Double Standards and Selective Outrage: A Response to Criticism of President Anura Kumara
The recent criticism by former BBC journalist Saroj Pathirana against President Anura Kumara Dissanayake raises an important question: are we applying consistent standards when judging political accountability?
Pathirana argues that Energy Minister Kumara Jayakody should be suspended due to corruption-related charges. However, this argument overlooks a fundamental legal principle—a person is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. In this case, while a charge sheet has been filed and the matter is before court, there has been no conviction. Importantly, the current government has allowed the judicial process to proceed without interference, which is itself a departure from past political practice.
A Reminder from the Past
Consider the case of Prasanna Ranatunga.
When a Sri Lankan court found him guilty of extortion, he was not merely a backbencher—he was a serving minister and Chief Government Whip under President Ranil Wickremesinghe.
The sentence itself raised eyebrows. For an ordinary citizen, such an offence would almost certainly result in immediate imprisonment. Yet, the punishment handed down was widely viewed as unusually lenient. More strikingly, the Attorney General—who has not hesitated to appeal controversial acquittals in other cases—did not appeal this particular judgment.
This is how justice often appears in Sri Lanka: one standard for the powerful, another for the ordinary citizen.
Even more extraordinary was the political response. Despite the conviction, Ranil Wickremesinghe publicly argued that because an appeal had been filed, Prasanna Ranatunga should still be treated as not guilty. On that basis, he was allowed to continue not only as a minister but also as a key figure within the government.
At the time, many—including critics like Saroj Pathirana—condemned this as a deeply unethical and unacceptable practice.
So What Has Changed Now?
Today, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake is being criticised for allegedly doing the same thing. But is that comparison valid?
The key difference is clear:
- Prasanna Ranatunga had already been convicted by a court
- Kumara Jayakody has not been convicted—his case is still pending
President Anura’s position is that the alleged offence does not relate to actions taken under his administration and that due process must be allowed to run its course. Whether one agrees or disagrees politically, this stance is legally defensible.
Critics have argued that Saroj Pathirana has been selective in his calls for political accountability, particularly in relation to Ranil Wickremesinghe and his continued leadership of the United National Party during periods of legal and ethical controversy. While questions were raised publicly about the use of state resources for overseas engagements—some described as official and others disputed—there was comparatively less sustained pressure for resignation at the time. Similar debates emerged around publicly funded foreign visits by senior officials, including appearances at international forums. The broader issue, analysts suggest, is not any single incident but the apparent inconsistency in how standards of accountability are applied across different political actors, raising concerns about whether principles are being upheld uniformly or selectively.
Selective Accountability?
This brings us back to Saroj Pathirana’s criticism.
If the principle is that any minister facing charges must resign immediately, then that standard should have been applied consistently in the past. Yet, when a convicted minister remained in power, the outrage—at least in some quarters—was far less sustained.
This raises concerns about selective accountability, where principles are invoked depending on political convenience rather than consistency.
A Broader Question of Responsibility
There is also a wider issue about public commentary itself.
When journalists or commentators take strong positions on accountability, they carry a responsibility to apply those standards universally. Otherwise, criticism risks appearing partial rather than principled.
For instance, debates around Sri Lankans participating in foreign conflicts—whether in Russia or Ukraine—have often been framed selectively. If one expects institutional accountability from state bodies, then that expectation must be applied evenly across comparable situations.
Consistency Is the Real Test
The real issue here is not simply whether one minister should resign. It is whether Sri Lanka is prepared to adopt consistent standards of political ethics.
If conviction is the threshold, then it must apply to all.
If mere accusation is enough, then that too must apply to all.
What cannot continue is a system where rules shift depending on who is in power.
As the debate continues, one uncomfortable question lingers:
Were past criticisms misplaced—or are present criticisms selectively applied?