One Country, One Law – What Does It Mean for Justice and Democracy?

By Natasha Palansuriya

‘One Country, One Law’ – sounds ideal on paper, but dig deeper and there are many problematic areas that this article will unravel. The concept of ‘One County One Law’ was introduced during the presidential campaign in 2019 by President Gotabaya Rajapakshe (Wickramaratne, 2021), proposing the formulation of a new constitution and changes to the electoral system (Times of India, 2021; Ranawana, 2020). Just this week this infamous proposal has garnered controversial attention with the announcement of the Presidential Task Force, codified by way of an Extraordinary Gazette Notification (No. 2251/30 – October 26, 2021), that would implement the concept and prepare a draft Act which is to be submitted in February 2022.

The rule of law is pivotal to the functioning of a democracy. In fact, ideally there should be one law that is equally applicable to all. However, in practice the law has not always been applied fairly. Whether it is because of ethnicity, religion, social class, and even depending on political connections, the law of this country has been discriminatory. Therefore, while the premise of ‘One Country, One Law’ sounds appealing to anyone, the way it is been approached, communicated, and implemented is highly problematic. What is most dangerous is the implications for minority communities that it foreshadows.

One of the problematic areas is that the ‘One Country, One Law’ concept seeks to abolish all personal/customary law. There are three different personal laws governing the country, i.e. Muslim personal laws underpinned by the Sharia Law, Kandyan Law and Thesawalamai Law (Srinivsan, 2021; Wickramaratne, 2021). However, the ‘One Country, One Law’ concept mainly problematizes the Muslim Personal Law. Preceding the proposal of the ‘One Country, One Law’ concept, after the Easter Sunday Attacks in 2019 the Muslim community as a whole and the Sharia Law gained undue attention because of the linkages with Islam radicalism and the Easter Sunday bombings. Consequently, during the final days of the Yahapalanaya government, a Buddhist Monk who was also an unelected member of parliament moved a Private Bill proposing the abolition of the Muslim Marriage and Divorce Act of 1951 (MMDA) (Ali, 2020). President Gotabaya Rajapakse’s campaign used these opportunities to appeal the majority Sinhala voter base by bringing in the ‘One Country, One Law’ argument. Subsequently he used the same argument when the emergency COVID regulations were implemented (Ali, 2020) against the burial of those who died of COVID, which mainly affected the Muslim community. What is problematic here is that the ‘One Law’ proposed is blatantly majoritarian and can be interpreted as only seeking to justify the Sinhala Buddhist chauvinistic rule.

The next issue is that what this concept proposes is a blanket law that governs the country. However, with the nature of the social fabric of Sri Lanka we need to tread these waters extremely carefully. There is a reason personal/customary law exists, so that the law is inclusive of and sensitive to the nuances of diverse cultural practices, and thus non-discriminatory based on ethnicity or religion. Whilst some may argue that if personal laws infringe upon fundamental rights of individuals then it should be abolished in favour of ‘one law’, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) for example states that
‘in states in which ethnic, religious or linguistic minorities exist, persons belonging to such minorities shall not be denied the right in community with other members of their group to enjoy their own culture, to profess and practice their own religion or to use their own language’ (Article 26)

Therefore, whilst the issues within personal laws, in particular the Muslim personal law, is quite sensitive, it is for that particular community to decide how these laws should be reformed within the given constitutional architecture. What is more problematic is when others outside the community dictate what is right and wrong. This will only exacerbate the damaged social relations already existent amongst ethnoreligious groups in the country. Moreover, CEPA’s recent research for the ‘Sri Lanka Barometer’ (Strengthening Reconciliation Programme, GIZ) indicates that minorities perceive “One Country, One Law” tantamount to erasure of their identities.

Finally, to address the elephant in the room – the representativeness of the Presidential Task Force is most problematic. Notwithstanding that it has no female representation, thus alienating more than half the country’s population, which also happens to be the population that is often negatively affected by personal laws. Similarly, the originally gazetted Task Force has no representatives of the Tamil community (although the President has indicated that changes will be made to the composition of the Task Force) who also needs to have a say when it comes to Thesawalamai Law, amongst other issue areas unique to the Tamil community. And worse so is the leadership of the Task Force, which is led by a Buddhist monk known for racism, bigotry and his actions in the past have gone against all sense of ‘lawfulness’.

How then do we as a democratic nation put our trust in such a Task Force to protect the rights of all communities and groups in designing a ‘new constitution’ in the guise of ‘One Country, One Law’? If Sri Lanka is to legitimise its commitment to homegrown mechanisms of reconciliation and transitional justice, then the state must ensure the solutions are inclusive and just.

Photo by Tingey Injury Law Firm on Unsplash