The Mount Lavinia scandal has become a defining moment in Sri Lanka’s legal history, exposing not just one lawyer’s arrogance but the dangerous culture of impunity that threatens to erode justice, undermine democracy, and destroy public trust in the very system meant to protect society.
The disturbing events at the Mount Lavinia Magistrate’s Court have once again raised serious doubts about the integrity of Sri Lanka’s justice system. What unfolded inside the courtroom was not merely an unfortunate altercation but a symbol of the deep rot corroding the foundations of law and order. Senior lawyer Gunaratne Wanninayake’s behavior, captured on video and confirmed by eyewitness accounts, was nothing short of a disgrace. Shouting obscenities at a police officer, issuing threats, and attempting to use influence over high-ranking officials, he displayed a shocking arrogance that suggested the law itself was his to bend and break. This was not simply misconduct. It was a glaring reminder that sections of the legal profession in Sri Lanka operate as if the rules do not apply to them, that they are beyond accountability, and that their privilege, power, and social connections are enough to shield them from the consequences of their actions.
The police officer who became the target of this abuse was simply performing his duty, ensuring the safe passage of a prison bus into the court premises. This was standard procedure, particularly given the history of violence in Sri Lankan courts, where past shootings have taken place inside the very walls meant to uphold justice. Yet instead of being respected for carrying out his responsibilities, the officer was humiliated, targeted, and, most disturbingly, remanded for three days. Reports indicate that no assault had taken place, and yet the legal machinery was manipulated in such a way that the constable became the one punished, not the lawyer whose behavior had sparked the confrontation. The idea that a Deputy Inspector General of Police could be summoned by a simple phone call at the behest of a lawyer is not only absurd but terrifying. It speaks to an imbalance of power where the law bends not to principles of justice but to intimidation, privilege, and arrogance.
The larger question that now arises is one that Sri Lanka can no longer afford to ignore: who holds lawyers accountable when they abuse their power? The Bar Association of Sri Lanka, the body tasked with upholding ethics and discipline in the legal profession, chose to defend Wanninayake’s conduct. This move exposed an uncomfortable truth: professional solidarity has taken precedence over public justice. Instead of protecting the credibility of the legal profession, the Bar Association has effectively shielded one of its own, reinforcing the perception that lawyers are untouchable. Meanwhile, the police response was muted at first, constrained by fear of reprisal and the entrenched weight of systemic corruption. Only when the story spread like wildfire across social media did officials feel compelled to act. But such delayed action is not merely negligence. It is complicity. It signals to the public that there are two systems of justice in Sri Lanka: one for the ordinary citizen, who faces the full force of the law, and another for the powerful elite, who can escape scrutiny by virtue of their social standing and professional influence.
This is not the first time lawyers have faced accusations of arrogance and abuse of privilege. Across the country, stories circulate about practitioners who manipulate the system for personal gain, exploit vulnerable clients, or use their social connections to evade accountability. Unlike politicians or bureaucrats, whose finances are occasionally scrutinized, lawyers operate in a grey zone where little transparency exists regarding the sources and uses of their income. The result is a culture of dual immunity, both social and financial, that reinforces their power and emboldens their sense of untouchability. This culture, if left unchecked, risks undermining the very concept of justice.
History offers clear lessons on the dangers of this path. The earliest legal traditions, from the Code of Hammurabi to Indian texts such as the Yājñavalkya Smṛti and Nāradasmṛti, explicitly stressed accountability, fairness, and transparency for those entrusted with the law. These ancient systems understood that the greatest threat to justice comes not from the powerless but from those who wield authority without checks. The law was never intended to shield the powerful; it was designed to safeguard the community from their excesses. Yet modern lawyers who behave as if their position grants them immunity from the law betray this fundamental truth. They are not just unethical; they are dangerously delusional.
The Mount Lavinia episode is particularly revealing because it lays bare the dangerous intersection of arrogance, systemic inertia, and societal complicity. Here was a uniformed officer, performing a simple duty to protect public safety, reduced to a victim of intimidation and humiliation, while the lawyer responsible walked free. The fact that institutional bodies initially remained silent highlights a structural failure, not just an individual one. If the guardians of justice can violate the law with impunity, then what hope remains for ordinary citizens seeking fairness?
The implications for society are profound. Citizens must believe that the law applies equally to all, irrespective of wealth, status, or connections. When they witness lawyers intimidating officers, manipulating judges, and bending systems to serve their egos, faith in justice erodes. It becomes clear that justice is not a universal principle but a selective privilege, reserved for those with power. This is a slow but corrosive poison, undermining not just trust in courts and policing, but faith in governance itself. The legal profession is not simply a career choice; it is a public trust. When lawyers forget this truth, they betray not only their profession but the very society they are meant to serve.
To restore faith, accountability must be uncompromising. Every lawyer implicated in misconduct must face transparent investigation, and where appropriate, prosecution. Professional bodies must act swiftly and impartially, refusing to shield their members from the consequences of their actions. Financial transparency must also be enforced to ensure that lawyers cannot enrich themselves or manipulate the system without oversight. Accountability must not remain a distant aspiration but an immediate, enforceable reality. Anything less will doom the justice system to irrelevance.
The Roman philosopher Cicero once wrote, “The safety of the people shall be the highest law.” The Mount Lavinia incident is a direct test of that principle. If lawyers can intimidate officers and manipulate justice unchecked, then the safety and fairness promised by the law are reduced to illusions. Sri Lanka now faces a legal reckoning. Either the system restores accountability, integrity, and public trust, or it continues down a path that transforms the legal profession into a privileged enclave divorced from its most basic mission.
The risks of failing to act are severe. If this culture of legal impunity is allowed to flourish, Sri Lanka will face an erosion of the rule of law so severe that public trust in democracy itself will collapse. Corruption will deepen, with lawyers aligning themselves with political elites and serving as tools of repression rather than defenders of justice. Internationally, Sri Lanka’s credibility will suffer as it becomes clear that the country cannot uphold the rule of law within its own borders. And domestically, ordinary citizens, disillusioned and abandoned, may resort to extra-legal means to seek justice, destabilizing civil society.
This is not just a question of professional ethics. It is a question of national survival. The Mount Lavinia scandal is more than a courtroom drama. It is a mirror reflecting a profession that has, in too many places, lost its moral compass. Sri Lanka’s legal community must now make a choice: restore accountability and prove that no one is above the law, or allow the system to descend into chaos where law becomes a tool for the powerful and justice an illusion for the rest.
The entire nation is watching. The world is watching. And the future of Sri Lanka’s democracy and justice system depends on whether its lawyers choose privilege and impunity, or accountability and integrity. The Mount Lavinia episode is not just a scandal. It is a warning. It shows how close Sri Lanka is to losing the rule of law altogether. It asks a question the country must answer now, not later: if the guardians of justice themselves violate the law, who will protect the people?
