Justice, Not Selective Outrage: Ali Sabry’s Uneasy Intervention on the Arrest of Suresh Sallay
When former Justice Minister Ali Sabry warns that the arrest of former State Intelligence Service chief Suresh Sallay “raises serious concerns about the direction in which national discourse is heading,” one is entitled to ask: concern for whom, and concern about what?
Mr. Sabry’s intervention, framed as a defence of “national security institutions,” arrives at a moment when Sri Lanka’s Criminal Investigation Department is pursuing one of the most painful and politically sensitive inquiries in the country’s recent history—the Easter Sunday attacks. The arrest of a former intelligence chief is not theatre; it is a procedural step within an ongoing investigation. To characterise it as an assault on the morale of the armed forces risks conflating institutional accountability with political vendetta.
The Memory of Arbitrary Detentions
During Mr. Sabry’s tenure as Justice Minister, Sri Lanka saw continued reliance on the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA), a statute long criticised by civil society and international observers for facilitating prolonged detention without charge. High-profile detentions, including that of former Minister Rishad Bathiudeen and former Western Province Governor Asath Salley, Preominant Lawyer Ijaz Hisbullah, became emblematic of a justice system willing to tolerate sweeping executive powers in the name of national security.
Hundreds were detained under the PTA framework over the years, many alleging arbitrary arrest and extended remand without due process. At the time, Mr. Sabry did not publicly argue that such actions weakened morale within law enforcement or undermined the “national discourse.” The doctrine appeared to be that security considerations justified procedural severity.
It is therefore difficult to reconcile that record with his present admonition that investigating a retired Major General constitutes an institutional hazard.
National Security vs. Rule of Law
The crux of Mr. Sabry’s argument is that “national security institutions cannot become collateral damage in political contests.” The premise assumes that the arrest of a former intelligence chief is inherently political. Yet criminal investigations—particularly those concerning mass-casualty events—are not optional exercises. They are constitutional obligations.
The Easter Sunday attacks of April 2019 claimed the lives of more than 260 people, including worshippers and foreign nationals. The victims were overwhelmingly Catholic civilians attending services in churches across the country. Justice, in such circumstances, cannot be selective. Nor can it be suspended on the basis of prior service in uniform.
In every mature legal system, institutional legitimacy depends not on immunity from scrutiny, but on the willingness to submit to it. The morale of the armed forces is not weakened when allegations are tested through lawful investigation; it is weakened when impunity is perceived.
A Question from Katukurunda - in Kalutara
Mr. Sabry hails from Katukurunda in Kalutara, a community with a significant Catholic population. Many in that region, like Catholics across Sri Lanka, have spent nearly seven years waiting for credible accountability. For them, the Easter Sunday file is not an abstract matter of “national discourse.” It is a wound.
Their expectation is simple: that the Criminal Investigation Department be permitted to pursue evidence wherever it leads. If that path includes questioning or arresting former officials, so be it. The Catholic community’s demand has never been vengeance; it has been truth and legal resolution.
Against that backdrop, Mr. Sabry’s public defence of an arrested intelligence chief may strike some as premature at best, partisan at worst. The optics are delicate. In matters of mass atrocity, lawyers—particularly President’s Counsel—carry a special responsibility to protect due process without appearing to prejudge the legitimacy of investigations.
The Role of a President’s Counsel
As a senior lawyer, Mr. Sabry is acutely aware that arrest does not equal conviction. Sri Lanka’s criminal procedure permits arrest where investigators have reasonable suspicion supported by evidence. The proper forum to challenge the legality of an arrest is a court of law, not a press statement.
If there are procedural defects—unlawful detention, insufficient grounds, abuse of authority—the defence bar is fully capable of testing them before a magistrate or appellate bench. That is the architecture of the rule of law.
Publicly framing an arrest as an existential threat to national security risks blurring that architecture. It invites the public to see investigative action as political persecution before the judiciary has spoken.
Consistency as Moral Currency
Moral authority in public life depends on consistency. When PTA detentions were executed against politicians or activists, the standard invoked was national security. Today, when an intelligence officer faces investigative scrutiny in relation to the gravest terror attack in Sri Lanka’s modern history, the standard shifts to institutional sanctity.
One cannot credibly defend broad executive arrest powers in one context and decry their application in another without articulating a principled distinction. None has yet been offered.
If the principle is that no institution should be immune from investigation, then that principle must apply universally. If the principle is that national security actors deserve special insulation, then that too must be defended openly—and its constitutional implications confronted honestly.
Justice Before Noise
The Criminal Investigation Department’s task is evidentiary, not rhetorical. The courts will determine whether the arrest of Suresh Sallay is supported by material facts. If the case is weak, it will collapse under judicial scrutiny. If it is strong, accountability will follow.
Sri Lanka has lived too long in a cycle where arrests are politicised and prosecutions stall. Breaking that cycle requires less commentary and more institutional patience.
For Mr. Sabry, the question is not whether he may speak—he is entitled to do so—but whether speaking in this manner serves the higher cause he invokes. The families of Easter Sunday victims do not need competing narratives about morale. They need answers.
In that light, it may be wiser for seasoned counsel to allow investigators to investigate, courts to adjudicate, and evidence—not emotion—to guide the national conversation.