The controversy surrounding the disrobing of a monk convicted by a court of law has exposed a deeper problem in Sri Lankan society: the tendency to place institutions, symbols, and religious privilege above justice, accountability, and public morality.
A straightforward question should be asked. If a person has been convicted through due judicial process of a serious criminal offence, particularly one involving disrupting judicial process, disrespecting judicial officers, threatening witnesses and party to the cases within the court premises itself, is that person fit to wear the robe of a Buddhist monk?
The answer should not depend on political convenience, religious sentiment, or institutional pressure. It should depend on whether the individual continues to embody the moral standards expected of a member of the Sangha.
Those who portray disrobing as an attack on Buddhism have completely misunderstood the issue. The yellow robe is not a shield protecting a criminal from the consequences of his actions. The robe derives its dignity from the conduct of the person wearing it. When that conduct fundamentally violates the ethical principles Buddhism claims to uphold, the real insult to Buddhism is not the removal of the robe. The real insult is allowing the robe to remain on the convicted offender.
Gautama Buddha abandoned royalty, power, wealth, and privilege in pursuit of truth and spiritual liberation. The monastic order was founded upon discipline, restraint, and moral conduct. The question Buddhists should ask themselves is not whether a convicted monk should be disrobed, but whether the modern Sangha has remained faithful to those ideals.
The greatest irony in this debate is that the institutions that should have acted first often failed to act at all. The responsibility of protecting Buddhism rests primarily with the Sangha itself. If monks convicted of serious crimes had been removed from the order by their own religious authorities, there would have been no public controversy. Instead, some religious leaders have chosen to criticize those who enforced accountability rather than confront the misconduct that made such action necessary.
That response exposes a familiar institutional instinct: protect the organization before protecting the principles upon which the organization was built.
This problem is not unique to Buddhism. The Catholic Church, the Anglican Church, and many other religious institutions around the world have faced criticism for their reluctance to deal decisively with clergy accused or convicted of sexual abuse and financial misconduct. The pattern is depressingly familiar. Institutions become more concerned with preserving authority, reputation, and influence than with protecting victims or defending moral standards.
Sri Lanka, however, presents an additional complication. Religion has been intertwined with political power to an extent that many institutions appear to expect special treatment under the law. Some individuals with political powers such as the leader of the opposition, senior members of SJB, seem to believe that a saffron robe should command privileges to the extent of making the judiciary a mockery, unavailable to ordinary citizens.
That belief is fundamentally incompatible with the rule of law.
A democratic society cannot operate on the principle that one penalty applies to ordinary citizens and another to members of religious institutions. Equality before the law loses all meaning when exceptions are demanded for the powerful, the influential, or the politically connected.
For that reason, it was encouraging to see the President refuse calls to waive existing procedures for a single convicted criminal. A pardon or special dispensation based solely on religious status would have sent a devastating message: that some citizens are more equal than others.
Equally disturbing was the willingness of some political actors and certain sections of the clergy to advocate precisely such an outcome. The issue before the country was not Buddhism. It was not religious freedom. It was whether a convicted criminal should receive privileges unavailable to every other convicted criminal in the country.
Yet consistency matters. A government that speaks of equality before the law must apply that principle universally. It cannot invoke equality when dealing with a convicted monk while remaining silent on other injustices. The President promised to act in two weeks on this issue of amending regulations violating equality principles. Whether he will, is a different question.
But he has kept silent for more than two years. Questions remain regarding lands still occupied long after the end of the war, individuals whose livelihoods have been disrupted for years, and detainees held under security laws without timely resolution of their cases. The commitment to justice must be measured not by speeches but by actions.
Many citizens may legitimately ask why demands from powerful religious figures receive immediate attention while the grievances of marginalized communities often wait years for meaningful engagement. Equality before the law cannot be selective. If it is selective, it is no longer equality.
Ultimately, the issue is larger than one monk, one court case, or one political controversy.
The issue is whether Sri Lanka wishes to be governed by principles or by privilege.
If Buddhism is worthy of protection, it should be protected by upholding the values it teaches: truth, ethical conduct, accountability, and compassion. Protecting individuals who betray those values does not defend Buddhism. It diminishes it.
A robe does not sanctify a criminal. A conviction does not become less serious because the convicted person wears religious attire. And a society committed to justice cannot allow religious status to become a substitute for accountability.
The real question is not whether a convicted monk should be disrobed. The real question is why anyone believes that a convicted criminal should be entitled to keep a privilege that the crime itself has rendered undeserved.
An excellent unbiased logical and ethical article written by Mr Kugathas Ramathas on the question of producing an accused in Court in the prison garb which in this case has been analyzed and justified clearly that the insult is on the Noble Eightfold Path and not the individual who has violated the very precepts and exposed the revered robe to public scrutiny and uncalled for public debate. Disrespect to the Eobe and what it stands for is the greater crime and question to be dealt with since the Dharma should be the primary concern