The chief prelate of the Atamasthana (the eight sacred Buddhist sites of the ancient Sri Lankan city of Anuradhapura), Venerable Pallegama Hemarathana Thero, was arrested recently in connection with allegations of sexual abuse of a 15-year-old girl.
The child’s mother was also arrested for aiding and abetting the abuse. The court imposed a ban on the monk traveling abroad. He was later released under strict bail conditions.
The case attracted intense public attention in Sri Lanka. Atamasthana is one of the most revered Buddhist institutions and its chief prelate holds a position at a sacred site linked to national memory and Buddhist authority. But public concern is not limited to the allegations or the position Hemarathana Thero occupies. The conduct of institutions around this matter has also come under scrutiny.
The Anuradhapura Magistrate’s Court ordered the arrests after the National Child Protection Authority informed the court that police had been slow to respond to complaints.
Sri Lankan law does not place Buddhist monks above other citizens. A monk accused of a criminal offense is subject to the same criminal law as any other person. But in practice, police are reluctant to take action against senior religious figures, and politicians fear being criticized for their alleged actions against Buddhism. This is not a formal immunity, but an immunity produced by deference.
This affair also placed President Anura Kumara Dissanayake in a difficult position. Speaking at the National Vesak Festival on May 27, he said the government would quickly enact laws to maintain discipline among Buddhist monks. He said the government would amend the Buddhist Temporaries Ordinance of 1931 and re-establish a Dharmadhikaranaya, a body empowered to deal with disciplinary matters relating to monks.
Dissanayake made the announcement on the eve of Vesak, the most important Buddhist holiday, and presented the decision as a response to demands from top Buddhist prelates. He did not present himself as a lay leader disciplining the Sangha from the outside, but claimed to act with the sanction of Buddhist authority.
Sri Lanka has no shortage of rules governing monks. The Buddhist monastic order has its own disciplinary tradition, rooted in the vinaya (fundamental code of conduct for Buddhist monks). THE nikayas or monastic fraternities have their own rules and hierarchies. Temple ownership and exercise of functions are regulated by law, including the framework of Buddhist temporalities. Reformers also debated the Katikavatas (monastic constitutions) as a means of codifying discipline within the Sangha.
It is also a problem of legal pluralism: several legal and moral orders operate simultaneously, and they do not always go in the same direction. And often, they don’t always go in the same direction. When a monk is accused of misconduct, one of the questions is whether he violated the vinaya and/or the expectations of his nikaya. Another question is whether he committed an offense under the common law.
A Dharmadhikaranaya may be able to address matters of monastic conduct, robes, titles, temple function, financial propriety, or violations of religious discipline. It cannot replace the police, the attorney general or the courts when serious criminal allegations are raised. If the government presents monastic discipline as the answer to criminal wrongdoing, reform could become a diversion. But the state can respect the internal traditions of the Sangha while insisting that criminal law applies equally to all citizens.
It’s easier said than done.
Sri Lankan Buddhist monks have never been solely ritual figures. Ancient Sinhalese kings frequently sought advice from monks. They also played an important role in resisting the colonial powers in Sri Lanka. This heritage explains why the Sangha commands respect. This also explains why the state has difficulty drawing boundaries.
In recent times, relations between monks and politicians have served both sides. Politicians seek the blessing of high-ranking monks because it helps them speak to Sinhalese-Buddhist voters. In return, governments gave the Sangha access, funds, land, official status, and protection. They also sometimes look the other way when politically connected monks cross legal or ethical lines.
This market transformed some high-ranking monks into moral authorities and political actors. Governments consult them on education, decentralization, constitutional reform, archeology and land. This partly reflects the real place of Buddhism in Sri Lankan society. But it also created a divide between religious respect and political privilege. Many ordinary Buddhists may revere the robe while worrying about politicization, commercialization and misconduct by certain sections of the clergy.
In an article published in Anthropology Today, Amitav Ghosh and HL Seneviratne pointed out that the modern public role of the monk changed dramatically in the 20th century. Educated monks began to believe that social service was an important part of their vocation, which came to include advice and intervention in secular affairs, including direct political activity and lobbying elected representatives.
This made the monk not only a religious guide but also a political actor. Some monks became teachers, activists, union leaders, intellectuals and nationalist activists. Once the monks entered the public square, politicians had to react. Most often, they choose accommodation. Ghosh and Seneviratne argued that one of the famous examples of the power of monks to influence politics was the derailment of the Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam pact of 1957. The message that future governments learned was that organized monks could veto major political settlements.
But this clerical authority cannot be understood solely as a cynical search for power. Recent research has shown that the claim that Sri Lanka has a particular Sinhalese-Buddhist vocation is attractive not only because it serves majority interests, but also offers a story of honor, dignity and collective purpose. It tells Sinhalese Buddhists that they are guardians of a sacred heritage.
This partly explains why challenges to powerful monks can become more than legal or administrative disputes. They are easily presented as attacks on Buddhism itself.
But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for reform. Many Buddhists themselves are concerned about commercialization, politicization, and inappropriate behavior among certain sections of the clergy. A credible system of internal discipline could help restore public confidence. This could also give the Mahanayake Theras (the chief monks of various monastic chapters) and nikayas have clearer authority to act against monks whose conduct undermines the institutions.
But reform should not confuse two issues: one is how the Sangha disciplines monks, and the other is how the state enforces criminal law. A monk can respond to the Vinaya as a monk. He must answer to the law as a citizen.
Dissanayake came to power promising a cleaner state. His government, National People’s Power, has often spoken of equality, accountability and the need to break old patterns of privilege. The Atamasthana affair now puts these assertions to the test in an area where Sri Lankan politicians are generally cautious.