The correct title for the proposed bill mentioned in the first part of this article should be “Protection of the State from Terrorism Act – PSTA,” not “Prevention of State Terrorism Bill” (PSTA). I regret the oversight.
Why Sri Lanka Must Repeal the PTA
Let us start with an uncomfortable truth. The Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA) has failed at its primary mission. Decades after its introduction, terrorism has not been prevented by this legislation; it has merely been responded to, often heavy-handedly. Meanwhile, the Act has become something far more insidious, a tool to silence dissent and control the narrative around government policies.
When legislation designed to protect citizens instead becomes a weapon against them, we have crossed a dangerous line. The PTA, and now its proposed successor, the draft Protection of the State from Terrorism Act (PSTA) Bill, operate by definition and in practice as partisan instruments. They do not serve “the people”, but continue to serve only those, whoever holds power at any given moment.
First, let us pose a simple but critical question. Why should a law that does not work, that does not protect everyone equally, and that actively undermines the rule of law it claims to uphold, exist? The answer is an equally simple one. It should not exist.
The PTA’s Track Record of Abuse
The PTA originated in 1979 as temporary legislation while decades of escalating ethnic tensions and violence were culminating towards the civil war and was made permanent in 1982. While justified as necessary to preserve national security, it quickly became a tool for arbitrary arrests, torture, and suppressing dissent, especially targeting minorities and critics. UN experts and human rights groups have continually condemned its severe violations of human rights and demanded its repeal or genuine reform.
The fact that the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA) was debated and passed in a single day should alarm anyone who cares about the democratic process. During the civil war from 1983 to 2009, it was used extensively against the Tamil minority and suspected LTTE militants. After the 2019 Easter Sunday bombings, its use expanded to target the Muslim community. Despite the end of the war in 2009, the PTA continues to be used against political opponents, journalists, human rights defenders, and protesters, not just suspected terrorists.
The Act, with definitions of terrorism, authorises prolonged detention, extraction of confessions via torture, and punishment for failing to report terrorists. The 2022 amendments reduced maximum pre-trial period of detention from 18 to 12 months but failed to address fundamental issues like the admissibility of confessions obtained under torture. Despite repeated promises of repeal, including by the NPP government that came to power in late 2024, the PTA remains in force to date.
The safeguards against misuse of the legislation by authorities are feeble or totally disregarded. The broad and unclear definitions of terrorism allow for targeting dissent. It provides powers for long periods of detention without charge or trial. International actors, including the EU and UN, continue to call for its repeal or fundamental overhaul.
Starting from First Principles
Some argue that anti-terrorism legislation is necessary in principle, even if the current version is flawed. I understand this perspective, but I cannot share it; at least not without fundamental reforms that the current proposals do not address.
If the government genuinely believes such legislation is essential, then the PSTA must be redesigned from the ground up with three non-negotiable characteristics; those are, effectiveness, non-discrimination, and a clear pro-people orientation. The current bill fails on all those three counts.
Defining Terrorism with Precision
The word “terrorism” has become dangerously elastic in political discourse. It stretches to cover everything from genuine threats to public safety, to peaceful protests that simply make those in power uncomfortable. This ambiguity is not accidental. It is useful to governments that want maximum flexibility in applying the law.
However, this is precisely where democracy dies; in the vague spaces where those who enforce the laws can mean whatever they want. Any anti-terrorism legislation must begin with a definition that is clear, succinct, and comprehensive. More importantly, the scope of its definition must be made deliberately narrow, preventing authorities from applying it selectively against political opponents or marginalised communities.
That narrow definition could be something like this. Terrorism is not words, not ideas, not expression, but an action that deliberately attempts to frighten, threaten, or endanger efforts meant to safeguard the interests of all people in the country, not just a privileged few or a particular section of society.
Notice what this definition excludes: speech, writing, peaceful protest, and political advocacy. These actions do not represent terrorism. They represent the lifeblood of democracy.
Accountability – The Missing Piece
Even the best-written law can be misused. That is why any anti-terrorism legislation must include robust accountability mechanisms. Those are the things that are conspicuously absent from both the PTA and the PSTA.
If the law is applied inappropriately, whether intentionally or through negligence, victims must be compensated for the harm done to their reputation and for their material losses. This is not something done at will; it is fundamentally about serving justice. Moreover, those responsible for misapplying the law, whether police, prosecutors, or government officials, must face appropriate penalties. Without personal accountability, there is no incentive to exercise restraint or respect civil liberties.
Democracy’s Foundation: Freedom of Expression
The fundamental basis of my objection is that democracies are founded on the principle of freedom of expression. This is not a luxury or a nice-to-have option; it is the foundation on which everything else rests.
When citizens are unable to freely express their opinions on government policies, when journalists fear arrest for reporting inconvenient truths, and when activists hesitate to organise because they may be labelled terrorists, democracy has failed long ago.
The PTA and PSTA curtail this fundamental right. In doing so, they strike at something essential to our humanity. Freedom of expression is not just about politics. It is about personal growth, about our development as complete human beings, whom Aristotle called “political animals.”[i] Only when we experience that freedom we transcend the chaotic, but beautiful reality of plurality in diversity.
True unity does not come from silencing dissent; it emerges through consultation, inclusion, and participation. It is forged when people with different perspectives come together, express their views freely, and work toward shared goals despite their differences.
Authoritarian Turning Points
The 20th century’s socialist experiments aimed to enhance mass welfare but often those ended up by creating systems of tyranny. In many developing countries, socialism failed to deliver equality; instead, those with the strongest political connections were most empowered.
Regimes claiming to champion the marginalised, brutally repressed dissidents and established authoritarian states worldwide. Though socialism’s appeal still persists globally, capitalist forces have historically pushed progressive governments toward authoritarianism by creating economic vulnerabilities. The most recent exemplification being in Venezuela, which relied on repression under external pressures.
Progressive governments struggle to balance investment attraction and independent policies; failed reforms often trigger capital flight and government repression. International financial institutions pressure governments into unpopular fiscal reforms. This often results in reducing democratic debate and limiting citizen participation.
As economic conditions deteriorate, both socialist and capitalist systems may resort to increased authoritarianism, utilising militarised policing and surveillance to maintain order under the guise of stability. This trade-off frequently involves sacrificing democratic spaces for liberalised capital and favourable investment climates, with regimes employing authoritarian capitalism to enforce market-oriented policies while consolidating power.
A Pro-People Vision
The ideas I am defending here are not anti-government; they are pro-people. Here, there is a crucial distinction. Being pro-people means prioritising the rights and welfare of citizens above the convenience of those in power. It means creating systems that protect everyone’s ability to seek, receive, and distribute information without fear.
This should be acceptable common ground for any government that truly serves its people, regardless of political affiliation. The NPP came to power promising change and reform. Here is an opportunity to demonstrate that those promises would not be empty.
The Path Forward
To those who approached me hoping I would soften my stance: I appreciate your concern, and I want the NPP government to succeed in its mandate to serve the people. However, that success cannot be built on enacting legislation that undermines the very freedoms democracy requires.
The NPP government prior to its election to power, pledged to transform Sri Lanka into “A Thriving Nation, A Beautiful Life” through a “system change” focused on ending corruption, ensuring national unity, and achieving economic stability. A government will be successful to the extent that it carries the masses with it, not due to the strength of its armed forces or the armoury. Many progressive governments failed due to their actions that lacked this understanding.[ii]
Repeal the PTA. Withdraw the PSTA. If anti-terrorism legislation is genuinely needed, start over with genuine consultation, clear definitions, narrow scope, and built-in accountability. Create something that protects people from actual threats without threatening the people themselves.
This is not opposition, but a kind of critical friendship any government should embrace. Because ultimately, we all want the same thing, that is a Sri Lanka where every citizen feels safe, heard, and free: “A Thriving Nation, A Beautiful Life”. That land would be a land where the law protects people rather than threatens, where diversity strengthens unity among people rather than divides them, and where democracy means more than just elections every few years.
The foundation of such a society is freedom: freedom to speak, to question, to dissent, to imagine better possibilities. If built on that foundation, everything else will follow. Build on fear and repression, and no amount of legislative engineering can create lasting security or genuine peace.
The choice before Sri Lanka’s leaders is clear. The only question is whether they have the wisdom and courage to make it.
11 January 2026
[i] Aristotle used the phrase “political animal” to describe humanity’s place in the natural world. He wanted to remind us that while we may dream of rising to divine heights, we remain fundamentally mortal beings. We exist within nature’s intricate network of dependencies, requiring specific conditions and communities to survive and flourish.
[ii] Historically “socialist” states failed because they concentrated power in government hands rather than empowering workers, relied on force instead of building popular support to maintain control, and created systems where people felt disconnected and unmotivated.