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Kishali Pinto-Jayawardena, Convenor,
Rule of Law Centre, Colombo
Footnote:
Kishali Pinto-Jayawardena is a public interest lawyer and writer based in Sri
Lanka. She is a columnist for the Sunday Times, Colombo, Head of the
Legal Unit of the Law and Society Trust, Convenor of the Rule of Law Centre, and
a member of the Editorial Board of article 2. This article was originally
prepared for the first edition of a new publication by the Asian Human Rights
Commission, Protection & Participation: South Asia Legal Reforms and
Human Rights.
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When Yosef Lamdan, the Israeli Permanent
Representative to the United Nations, complained that his country had received
the most flak from the UN Committee against Torture (the Committee) at sessions
in Geneva during the spring of 1998, he advanced a novel reason for his
petulance. He complained that his country was being critiqued because it was
being too honest. The Israeli government had, in fact, maintained before the
Committee that interrogation practices such as violent shaking, handcuffing in
uncomfortable positions, hooding for long periods and sleep deprivation amounted
to “moderate physical pressure” that could be applied to terrorist suspects in
order to obtain information that might foil future
attacks.
Not surprisingly, the ten members of the
Committee, appointed to monitor the implementation of the UN Convention against
Torture by state parties, disagreed. The members noted that “the state of
insecurity that Israel is presently coping with, cannot justify practices
amounting to torture”. The response from Lamdan was colourful and aggressive,
stating—among other things—that while his government continued to battle with
the “agonizing dilemma” of terrorism, its report was brought before the
Committee like “a lamb going to the slaughter”. Israel was being held to a
higher standard than other countries, he alleged, “because its government
operations were more open than those of other states”.
At that stage, as if to illustrate his
point in a none too subtle manner, the very next report considered was that of
Sri Lanka, coming before the Committee for the first time since it ratified the
Convention in November 1994.
In contrast to Israel, the Sri Lankan
report was a model of decorum, causing many to comment that such faultless
mechanisms to protect human rights must be the envy of less fortunate countries.
At first glance, the twenty-eight-page report was indeed impressive, starting
from the cataloguing of several formal legal provisions that guarantee the right
to freedom from torture. Not only did the Constitution explicitly forbid torture
with the Supreme Court “jealously protecting this right” but also specific
legislation referred to as the Convention against Torture Act of 1994 made
torture a criminal offence punishable by stringent penalties. Again, procedures
relating to investigation and the taking of a suspect into custody and detention
outlawed torture, and human rights education and information formed a
significant part of the training of police officers, members of the armed
forces, and prison officers.
A plethora of committees, commissions
and bodies supervised the actions of law enforcement officials while the
recommendations of a 1995 committee to “inquire into and report on the
reorganization of the police” were being considered. Complaints against police
officers, including complaints of alleged torture, could be made to a special
sub-unit set up under a senior Deputy Inspector General. Action was being taken
to refer complaints against police officers to an independent panel and to set
up a “cell” directly under the Inspector General of Police to monitor these
complaints. In a burst of exuberance, it was even announced that a separate
directorate had been established at army headquarters to deal exclusively with
international humanitarian law. Meanwhile, three commissions on disappearances
had completed their work and issued reports. The government was now considering
how to implement their conclusions, including possible prosecutions.
The report, in other words, could not
have been more different from that of Israel. Sri Lanka wished to reiterate its
commitment to the stringent standards of international human rights law. The
government, it appeared, neither did any wrong, nor wished to do any wrong.
Perish the thought of “moderate physical pressure”. On the contrary, it
gracefully apologised for any excesses that may have occurred, relegating them
to the status of “isolated acts of torture carried out by some individuals, and
not the outcome of a deliberate policy”. The strategy, it seemed, was one of
subterfuge with a few clever nuggets of truth thrown in. Did it work at that
time?
The government representatives left
Geneva as, at very least, relieved defenders of their briefs. However, each
country had to pay its price. While in the case of Israel, it had to justify its
undeniably arrogant admission that it applied “physical pressure” to those in
its custody, Sri Lanka was called upon to answer in a different way, perhaps
less severe but nonetheless very stern.
In May 2005 the Committee will consider
the combined second and third periodic reports submitted as a single document by
Sri Lanka recently. The state party report, this time around, does not hold
anything new. It consists of the same weary plethora of matters pending and
investigations continuing. There are more graceful apologies for any
‘aberrations’ that may have occurred. In the meantime, the pain of those
innocents without remedies for what they have suffered also continues unabated.
What, indeed, has changed between May 1998 and May 2005? What about the efficacy
of these much-touted mechanisms for dealing torture? Have they succeeded in
bringing perpetrators to justice?
These are not difficult questions to
answer. In the years in between, torture and attendant abuses of the poor and
unfortunate—as opposed to ‘terrorists’ and ‘subversives’—have increased
dramatically. Supreme Court judgements in fundamental rights cases against
torture perpetrators have now become commonplace, and the most brutal torture
generally evokes no reaction other then cynicism.
Despite many clear judicial decisions
regarding the culpability of individual police officers, these very same
officers continue in their posts and claim a formidable shield of impunity. The
frustration of the Court itself at this state of affairs has become legendary.
In one particularly heinous case from 1995 where a 14-year-old girl had been
tortured by police officers resulting in the impairment of her sight in one eye,
the Supreme Court expressed its dismay in the following
manner:
In
many cases in the past, this Court has observed that there was a need for the
Inspector General of Police to take action to prevent infringements of
fundamental rights by police officers, and where such infringements nevertheless
occur, this Court has sometimes directed that disciplinary proceedings be taken.
The response has not inspired confidence in the efficacy of such observations
and directions…
Apart from disciplinary inquiries within
the police structure, other methods of control, including prosecutions based on
information disclosed in a fundamental rights application before the Supreme
Court, have also not been exercised. And what of the much-vaunted procedures
under the Convention against Torture Act, whereby the High Court can be moved by
the Attorney General to look into cases of alleged torture? We have strange
contrasts between then and now. In May 1998 not a single case had been brought
before the High Court in this manner. The Sri Lanka country report grandly and
somewhat speciously attributed this to the fact that the victims prefer to go
before the Supreme Court, rather than press a criminal trial in the High Court,
where proof is stricter and procedures more complicated.
In a caustic commentary on the report at
that time, Sri Lanka’s Civil Rights Movement (CRM) remarked that this is a
rather strange explanation, stating that if this argument is correct, one
wonders what the need is for the Convention against Torture Act at all. CRM went
on to articulate its concerns thus:
Even
despite the Supreme Court’s requests for further action in a number of cases,
the absence of even a single case being filed for a period of three years, let
alone a conviction, raises questions of the government’s seriousness with regard
to the effective implementation of its obligations under the Convention Against
Torture… It is not our contention that every finding of torture by the Supreme
Court means that there is sufficient evidence for a prosecution… Our concern is
that the absence of a single prosecution (let alone a conviction) under the Act,
and indeed the sparseness at all times of prosecutions, even under the normal
law, suggests that the necessary will to engage in follow up investigations and
institution of legal proceedings is lacking.
In 2004, these concerns remain stronger
than ever. Up to the time of the presentation of Sri Lanka’s fourth and fifth
periodic reports under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights
(ICCPR) before the UN Human Rights Committee in November 2003, no convictions
had taken place since the Convention against Torture Act passed into law in
1994. Both in 1998 and now, the state sought to explain itself on the basis that
allegations of torture by state officers are only isolated instances. This
explanation is belied by the number of cases that are being documented, which
constitute a fraction of the total, being only those of persons brave enough to
challenge their tormentors, at considerable personal risk.
Meanwhile, it is fair to conclude that
none of the rights-monitoring bodies set up by the state, including the National
Police Commission recently appointed under the 17th Amendment to the
Constitution, have done much to displace the continuing immunity of state
officers who commit crimes of torture.
Sri Lanka’s problem is that its
custodial officers persist with the same mindset they developed due to massive
powers granted by old emergency regulations and prevention of terrorism laws,
even though these laws have now lapsed with the cessation of active conflict in
the North and East. These extraordinary national security laws encouraged
aberrant behaviour on the part of law enforcement officers because they set no
minimum safeguards relating to conditions of detention, admitted confessions to
senior police officers (though conviction on a mere confession was rare), and
did away with normal procedure for inquests, postmortem examinations, disposal
of bodies and judicial inquiry after deaths in custody.
In 1998, the Committee asked the
government to ensure a review of the emergency regulations and prevention of
terrorism laws. It also recommended that the National Human Rights Commission be
strengthened to ensure its impartiality and effectiveness, and urged that the
government allow individual communications on alleged torture cases to be
submitted to it directly. While the first question is now largely academic,
given that these regulations are no longer in force, it is still necessary to
examine thoroughly the parent statutes so that a future government cannot
promulgate these very same regulations at its own whim and fancy.
The Committee’s second and third
concerns are still extremely relevant. Overall, there needs to be a serious and
concerted effort by all state and non-governmental monitoring bodies to address
the impunity of state officers who commit grievous human rights violations, and
bring them to justice. To do this, it will be necessary to displace the worrying
culture of denial prevalent among Sri Lankans, particularly as to the gravity of
the abuses concerned. We need to see this issue occupying news spaces in much
the same manner that America is now being forced to confront abuse by military
personnel in its prisons and other facilities in Iraq and Afghanistan. To bring
a measure of sanity back into our legal system, it will be necessary first to
reawaken our collective conscience.
The key question posed to the Sri Lankan
government in the May 1998 UN sessions was as to what measures are being taken
to eradicate torture, as opposed to measures to compensate
victims? At that time, it was clear that despite the numerous conferences held
and research papers written on the prevalence of torture, and despite the
conceptually perfect judgements and directions by our courts, law enforcement
officers continued to commit acts of torture with impunity.
We have much the same situation now. The
only difference perhaps is that the line of questioning by the international
human rights community is getting increasingly sharp. Witness the peremptory
direction issued by the Human Rights Committee in November 2003, that Sri Lanka
report back within one year on particular issues, including the question of
accountability regarding torture perpetrators.
This is one indication that graceful
apologies by state representatives are getting increasingly short shrift. In
turn, those vested with the unenviable task of defending Sri Lanka’s record on
human rights in a manner compatible with its international obligations are
having a noticeably more difficult task. Linking up the international monitoring
systems with the victims in far-flung villages in Sri Lanka, appears accordingly
(if not sadly), to be the most effective manner in which recourse to justice may
be obtained in the face of immediate domestic indifference to their plight.
Posted on 2004-07-05
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