Reform or Resistance? How Will ACJU Respond to Muslim Marriage Law Amendments?
As Sri Lanka’s Parliament prepares to debate two landmark Private Member Bills aimed at reforming marriage and divorce laws, attention is now firmly focused on one influential institution: the All Ceylon Jamiyyathul Ulama (ACJU).
The bills, presented by President’s Counsel and MP Faiszer Musthapha, seek to modernise personal laws that govern some of the most intimate aspects of citizens’ lives—marriage, divorce, maintenance, and child custody. While legal experts and women’s rights activists have largely welcomed the proposals, the crucial question remains: will ACJU embrace reform, or mobilise resistance?
A Long-Awaited Legal Update
The proposed Dissolution of Marriages on the Ground of Irretrievable Breakdown Bill introduces a long-missing legal concept into Sri Lankan law: the recognition that some marriages simply cannot be saved. By allowing divorce through mutual consent and providing safeguards on property, maintenance, and child custody, the bill reflects contemporary family law standards already adopted in many democratic jurisdictions.
More contentious, however, is the Muslim Marriage and Divorce (Amendment) Bill, which proposes reforms to the Muslim Marriage and Divorce Act of 1951—legislation that critics argue has remained frozen in time.
Key provisions include setting 18 as the minimum age of marriage, requiring the bride’s signature on marriage registers, allowing women to serve as Quazis, mandating legal qualifications for Quazis, and shifting maintenance disputes to Magistrate’s Courts.
Each of these proposals addresses long-standing criticisms that the existing law facilitates child marriage, undermines women’s consent, and limits access to professional legal remedies.
ACJU’s Historical Role
For decades, ACJU has positioned itself as the principal religious authority on Islamic affairs in Sri Lanka. In matters relating to Muslim personal law, successive governments have often deferred to its views, treating the organisation as the community’s primary voice.
However, critics argue that this dominance has sometimes stifled reform. Previous attempts to amend the Muslim Marriage and Divorce Act—particularly following the recommendations of the MMDA Reform Committee—faced sustained opposition from conservative religious groups, with ACJU playing a prominent role.
Women’s rights organisations have repeatedly accused ACJU of prioritising rigid interpretations over social justice and constitutional equality.
The Core Dilemma: Faith vs Rights?
At the heart of the current debate lies a sensitive dilemma: how to balance religious tradition with constitutional rights.
Supporters of the amendments insist that none of the proposed changes undermine Islamic principles. They point out that many Muslim-majority countries already recognise minimum marriage ages, regulate religious courts through legal qualifications, and allow women judicial roles.
Opponents, however, are likely to argue that state-imposed reforms interfere with religious autonomy. They may contend that requiring legal training for Quazis or permitting women judges represents an unwarranted “secularisation” of religious institutions.
Yet legal scholars counter that personal laws, once recognised by the state, must operate within constitutional frameworks guaranteeing equality, dignity, and due process.
Silence, Dialogue, or Confrontation?
So far, ACJU has maintained relative silence on Musthapha’s proposals. But history suggests that this quiet may be temporary.
Three possible responses appear likely.
First, ACJU may choose constructive engagement—entering dialogue with lawmakers to refine the bills while accepting their core objectives. This would signal a willingness to adapt religious governance to modern realities.
Second, it may adopt a defensive posture, lobbying parliamentarians to dilute key provisions, particularly those concerning women Quazis and minimum marriage age.
Third, it may mobilise public opposition through mosques, community networks, and religious platforms, framing the bills as an attack on Muslim identity.
The path chosen will reveal much about ACJU’s evolving role in a pluralistic democracy.
Women and Children at the Centre
Lost amid institutional debates is the reality faced by thousands of Muslim women and children.
Under the current system, child marriages, unequal divorce procedures, limited maintenance enforcement, and male-dominated Quazi courts continue to affect vulnerable families. Legal remedies are often slow, inconsistent, and inaccessible.
For many victims, these reforms are not abstract legal theories but urgent necessities.
As one women’s rights advocate noted, “This is not about Westernisation. It is about protecting girls from being married off at 14 and giving divorced mothers a fair chance to survive.”
A Test of Moral Leadership
Musthapha has described the bills as an effort to align Sri Lanka’s personal laws with international standards while respecting cultural context. Parliament will ultimately decide their fate.
But ACJU now faces a defining moment.
Will it act as a guardian of justice within tradition, recognising that reform can coexist with faith? Or will it cling to outdated structures that no longer serve the community’s best interests?
In a society striving for inclusive democracy, the answer will shape not only legal policy, but the moral credibility of religious leadership itself.