Custodial deaths and extra-judicial executions

Asked by a journalist about a death in a government hospital many decades ago, the then Permanent Secretary to the Ministry of Health laconically replied: “People die, it can’t be helped.” We were reminded of this last week when General Kamal Gunaratne, the Defence Secretary visited the Dalada Maligawa on being promoted to his new rank a few days ago. As is common on these occasions, several microphones were thrust at his face when he emerged after the religious observances and he answered a few media questions. One of these related to the death in police custody of a man named Nishantha Kumarasiri, 37, some days previously who was shot dead by his guards while he was allegedly attempting to strangle one of them.

The general was as laconic as the Ceylon Civil Service bureaucrat of long ago. “There is nothing that can be done. The law is common to all. Such things happen in enforcing the law. This is only one such instance.” This was his reply to the question which began with an assertion that such incidents occur because insufficiently protected suspects are taken about by the authorities in the course of investigations. Gunaratne said that some kind of security is provided to such suspects. He added that the victim was a dangerous criminal who had attacked an informant who had tipped-off the police about five-kilo cache of ganja. The attack was extremely brutal and intended to terrify society (and prevent similar tip-offs) so much so that the victim’s legs were chopped off and one limb taken away.

What was obviously implied was that the suspect deserved what he got. The whole world well knows that a legal principle almost universally accepted is that an accused is presumed innocent until he is proven guilty. It is equally well known that law enforcers, not only in Sri Lanka but also in many parts of the world, often deal out summary justice. They are guilty of extra-judicial executions that are not uncommon. But this cannot be a justification for such acts perpetrated on suspects in custody. Foreign Minister and Leader of the House Dinesh Gunawardene, recently answering a parliamentary question on custodial deaths here in the absence of his colleague from whom the question was asked, said there were 32 such deaths in the past eight months. These figures, no doubt, are most alarming. We do not know whether the deaths that occurred at the recent Mahara prison riot were included in Gunawardene’s numbers.

The authorities at first claimed that the riot and resultant death of prisoners was due to a brawl among them. In fact, State Minister Lohan Ratwatte, responsible for prisons and prisoner rehabilitation, is on public record saying that none of those killed had suffered gunshot injuries. He declared that there was no basis for the accusation that they had been shot dead. Subsequent developments have established that Ratwatte had been economical with the truth. Post-mortem examinations have revealed that several of the 11 dead had succumbed to gunshot wounds. A video of the rioting released by the authorities that was widely telecast did not include any scenes of shooting. Obviously embarrassing details had been edited out. The Latin dictum, suppresso veri, suggestio falsi, says it all. The courts prevented the cremation of the dead bodies attempted without autopsy on the grounds that they were covid positive patients. This would have prevented the truth being established.

Readers will remember that many recent custodial deaths were of suspects believed guilty of heinous crimes. “They deserve it” would be a natural reaction. It is common knowledge that torture is widely used by law enforcers and the security apparatus to elicit information from persons in custody. Even the JVP’s founder-leader, Rohana Wijeweera, guilty of unleashing two bloody insurrections upon the people of this country, died in custody under most suspicious circumstances. Then Deputy Defence Minister (in the Premadasa regime) Ranjan Wijeratne announced Wijeweera’s death in custody saying that he and another JVPer, Herat, were taken to a location to retrieve some documents. Herat opened a drawer to get some papers, pulled out a gun and attempted to shoot Wijeweera. Both suspects were shot dead by guards. Few bought the story, but it prevailed. The killing and the subsequent ending of the JVP’s second adventure (the first was the 1971 insurrection after which the party entered the political mainstream with Wijeweera even running for president) was widely welcomed countrywide. The people were sick and tired of JVP terror that had brought the country to the brink of anarchy. Crackers were lit when news of Wijeweera’s death broke. The whole country, long in the grip of JVP terror, heaved a collective sigh of relief and normalcy was quickly restored.

The reality that extra-judicial executions are a fact of life in this country (as probably in many others) is something we cannot escape. The percentage of successful prosecutions in Sri Lanka is as woefully low as four to six percent according to data in the political domain. One of the country’s most successful criminal lawyers, the late Dr. Colvin. R. de Silva who later in his career shone in the Appeal Court, once famously said that many criminals are walking free because witnesses chose to improve on the facts. Exaggerations and falsification of evidence enable good lawyers to destroy the credibility of witnesses and the facts of which they have spoken are rejected by the courts. In this context public opinion is divided on whether extra-judicial killing is warranted. As in Wijeweera’s case and several others, custodial death has been widely welcomed. But this does not make it right.

Whether the concerned authorities can or will ever even make an effort to correct the situation is an open question. Decent law-abiding citizen will not normally endorse police third degree on suspects. But if it is a matter of recovering goods stolen from them, their attitude would be different. However that be, custodial deaths whether in the prisons or in the hands of the police have now reached alarming proportions. The Defence Secretary’s blasé reaction to the Veyangoda killing is a clear indication of the way that papadam crumbles on this score in Sri Lanka.