Mockery of the law

Pastor Jerome Fernando was arrested last week by the CID following his return from abroad. The Colombo Fort Magistrate Courts remanded him until 13 December. The self-styled pastor is accused of laundering money to the tune of Rs. 12.25 billion. Yet his arrest had nothing to do with these allegations. He was charged under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) over a statement criticising Lord Buddha during one of his sermons. 

While the pastor should be investigated and prosecuted for his alleged money laundering crimes, arresting him over a sermon he delivered demonstrates the lopsided weaponisation of the ICCPR Act and the inefficiencies and the sheer breakdown of the criminal justice system. 

In July this year, the Attorney General disclosed yesterday to the Supreme Court, that investigations into the finances of Pastor Jerome Fernando have unveiled a staggering sum of around Rs. 12.25 billion circulating through his bank accounts. This revelation emerged during the hearing of two Fundamental Rights petitions pertaining to the controversial pastor. The ongoing investigation against Pastor Jerome spans various charges, including those under the Prevention of Money Laundering Act, the ICCPR Act, and the Penal Code.

After his arrest last week over his supposedly derogatory comments, a Police spokesperson said investigations are focused on the source of origin for funds that were channelled into the country to maintain a massive church complex known as ‘Miracle Dome’ in Katunayake. The church has not been registered with the Ministry of Buddhasasana, Religious and Cultural Affairs as a place of worship.

By definition, the ICCPR is an instrument that enhances the rights of citizens and protects them against excessive restraints by the State. In an ironic twist, in Sri Lanka, the ICCPR Act, a law meant to protect human rights and guarantee the peaceful expression of views, has been extensively, and very selectively used for the very opposite purpose, to curtail opinion and terrorise the citizenry, especially targeting minority communities.

The act provides for provisions to criminalise the advocacy of “national, racial or religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility or violence”. The use of this provision has been greatly disproportionate against perceived affronts against Buddhism.

Just as disturbing are the instances in which the ICCPR Act should have been used but was not. For example, in 2014, when there was clear incitement to violence in Kalutara by a group of racist monks attached to the Bodu Bala Sena, there were no arrests made under the ICCPR Act or any other law. The violence incited by the BBS killed two Muslims who were attacked by a mob. To this day none of the perpetrators of the crime nor their instigators have been held accountable.

It is a fundamental tenet in interpreting law that the intentions of the drafters be given due consideration. In the context of the ICCPR Act, the Attorney General and the Police have made a mockery of this basic principle. Neither the International Covenant nor the local legislation was intended to be used in a draconian and selective manner to curtail rights of individuals, minority groups or political opponents.

While Jerome Fernando or any other person should not be above the law, the selective use of hate speech laws against minority, ethnic and religious communities should be a deep concern. While he is roaming free over his multi-billion-rupee money laundering allegations, to arrest him over a sentiment expressed in a sermon is nothing but a mockery of the criminal justice system of the country.