Contempt in the Temple of Justice: The Maithree Gunarathna Case and the Question of Accountability
By a Legal Correspondent
The corridors of the Hulftsdorp court complex have long borne witness to the fiery oratory of Sri Lanka’s criminal bar. Yet, the events that unfolded last week, culminating in the filing of contempt of court charges against President’s Counsel Maithree Gunarathna, have sent shockwaves through a legal fraternity already grappling with questions of propriety and professional conduct.
The charges stem from an incident during a bail application for Sugeeswara Bandara, a figure of considerable notoriety. It is alleged that Gunarathna, a senior member of the inner bar, employed threatening and intemperate language against the presiding magistrate in a calculated attempt to secure bail for his client. The legal community is now asking a fundamental question: Can the tactics of the street be employed in the temple of justice, and does the prestigious title of President’s Counsel confer a veneer of immunity that places its holder above the law?
The Law on Contempt: A Shield for the Judiciary, Not a Sword for the Bench
To understand the gravity of the allegations against Gunarathna, one must first appreciate the nuanced landscape of contempt of court jurisprudence in Sri Lanka. The power to punish for contempt is not a tool for the "glorification of the Bench," but a necessary shield to protect the public and the administration of justice.
As articulated by Lord Morris in the landmark case of Attorney-General v. Times Newspapers Limited, the rationale is clear: "In an ordered community, courts are established for the pacific settlement of disputes... it is imperative that the authority of the Courts should not be imperilled and that recourse to them should not be subject to unjustifiable interference". The offence is committed against the court itself, not against the individual judge who occupies the seat.
The legal framework governing this offence was significantly updated with the enactment of the Contempt of Court, Tribunal, or Institution Act, No. 8 of 2024. This legislation was designed to standardise procedures and clarify the powers of courts in dealing with contempt, whether committed in facie curiae (in the face of the court) or ex facie curiae (outside the court).
For an incident like the one alleged against Gunarathna—occurring during proceedings in a Magistrate’s Court—the legal mechanics are critical. Under Section 55 of the Judicature Act, Magistrate’s Courts have a special jurisdiction to punish contempt committed in facie curiae, with penalties including imprisonment up to eighteen months or a fine. However, the 2024 Act provides a parallel jurisdiction to the Court of Appeal to punish contempt of a Court of First Instance, whether committed in its presence or elsewhere.
If the statements were made in open court while the Magistrate was on the bench, it constitutes in facie curiae contempt, which the Magistrate can deal with summarily. The procedure, as outlined in Section 8 of the 2024 Act, requires the court to issue a rule against the person, giving particulars of the charge, and to afford them an opportunity to make a defence. Crucially, the accused has the right to request that the charge be tried by a different judge, a safeguard designed to ensure impartiality.
The President’s Counsel: A Title of Eminence and a Standard of Rectitude
The central irony of this case lies in the status of the accused. The title of President’s Counsel is not merely an honorific; it is a designation that carries with it the highest expectations of professional conduct. The guidelines governing the appointment of President’s Counsel explicitly state that a candidate must have "reached high eminence in the legal profession and maintained high standards of conduct and professional rectitude".
Furthermore, the criteria for appointment demand that an applicant has "demonstrated high standard of professional integrity and independence" and has not been found liable for professional misconduct. The suggestion that a President’s Counsel—a senior guardian of the law—could resort to threatening a judicial officer is not just a breach of etiquette; it is a profound violation of the very principles that the title is meant to uphold.
The question of whether a President’s Counsel believes themselves to be above the law is one that strikes at the heart of the growing cynicism surrounding the appointment process. In recent years, the conferring of the title has increasingly been viewed by critics as a political spoil rather than a meritocratic accolade. The 2026 guidelines reiterate that an applicant must not have "engaged in any act or deed that has undermined or compromised the rule of Law or the Independence of the Judiciary". If a President’s Counsel is found to have used threatening language against a Magistrate to obtain a legal advantage for a client, the act itself is a direct assault on the independence of that judicial officer.
The 22nd Amendment: A Disturbing Pattern of Attacks on the Judiciary?
The current contempt case cannot be viewed in isolation. It emerges against the volatile backdrop of the 22nd Amendment to the Constitution, a legislative proposal that has ignited a firestorm of controversy regarding judicial independence.
During the proceedings challenging the constitutionality of this amendment, concerns were raised not only about the substance of the law but about the conduct of the legal fraternity itself. Reports from the Commonwealth Lawyers Association (CLA) and local legal observers highlighted a deeply troubling atmosphere. The CLA President, Steven Thiru, noted that the refusal to allow petitioners an oral reply and the opacity surrounding the composition of the bench were matters warranting "careful scrutiny".
More damning, however, were the allegations of personal attacks against the Chief Justice and his family. While some lawyers defended the Chief Justice, condemning the "baseless and unacceptable criticisms" as an "insult to the judiciary", the very fact that such attacks occurred reveals a worrying erosion of respect for the institution.
If, as alleged, President’s Counsel were at the forefront of these attacks, it raises a serious question: Is the inner bar becoming a shield for political activism rather than a guardian of legal ethics? The CLA’s report highlighted concerns that the bench composition risked "fueling perceptions that other judges had been excluded for ulterior motives". When senior lawyers, who are expected to be the pillars of the justice system, participate in or amplify such perceptions without substantiation, they contribute to the very undermining of public confidence they claim to protect.
The Consequences of a Guilty Verdict
If Maithree Gunarathna is found guilty of contempt, the consequences could be severe and manifold. While the summary procedure for in facie curiae contempt may result in a sentence of imprisonment or a fine, the collateral damage to his professional standing would be immense.
The 2026 guidelines for the appointment of President’s Counsel are unequivocal: a person is disqualified if they have been "convicted of the offence of Contempt of Court". A conviction would not only potentially strip him of his title but would also serve as a formal declaration that he failed to maintain the "high standards of conduct and professional rectitude" required of his rank.
Beyond the personal consequences for Gunarathna, the case serves as a litmus test for the judiciary’s willingness to hold its own senior members accountable. Historically, the law of contempt has been applied to journalists, activists, and junior lawyers. The application of the same stringent standards to a President’s Counsel would send a powerful message that no one—regardless of title or political connection—is above the law.
A Moment of Reckoning for the Inner Bar
The case against Maithree Gunarathna is more than a disciplinary matter; it is a symptom of a broader malaise within the Sri Lankan legal profession. The title of President’s Counsel, meant to denote the pinnacle of integrity and skill, is at risk of becoming a mere badge of political patronage.
The legal community must now ask itself whether the institution of the inner bar has lost its moral compass. The investigations into the conduct of President’s Counsel during the 22nd Amendment hearings, and the current contempt proceedings, offer an opportunity for reflection. The law is clear: threatening a judicial officer to secure a legal outcome is not zealous advocacy; it is criminal contempt. If the guardians of the law cannot respect the law, the entire edifice of justice in Sri Lanka is at risk. It is time to restore the merit and dignity of the President’s Counsel title, or risk seeing it become a symbol of everything that is wrong with the system.