About 30 police descended on Tue and his group of 37 monks as they had finished eating and were preparing to depart from Narammala, a town about 40 miles (65 kilometers) northeast of the capital Colombo.

“They waved a document sent from Vietnam, stating that this group was not a group of real monks, so walking like this was against the laws of the host country,” Vietnamese filmmaker Nguyen Minh Chi, who witnessed the incident, recounted to RFA.

This came two days after a local monk, claiming to be from the Sri Lankan Buddhist Sangha, brandishing the same document, had attempted to bar the group from stopping at a Hindu temple.

Thich Minh Tue became an unlikely internet sensation last year in Vietnam, where his simple lifestyle has struck a chord. He undertook barefoot walks that went viral and well-wishers came out in droves.

Last December, he left Vietnam on a journey by foot to India, the birthplace of Buddhism. After crossing Laos, he entered Thailand with a plan to hike across conflict-wracked Myanmar, but ran into logistical and visa problems. He has since traveled to Malaysia, and a week ago arrived in Sri Lanka, a predominantly Buddhist nation. He still hopes to make it to India.

But his international wanderings have become progressively more troubled - seemingly reflecting the suspicion with which he’s regarded by authorities back home in communist Vietnam where religion is closely regulated.

The document sent from Vietnam and presented by the Sri Lankan police, according to Nguyen Minh Chi, is the letter signed by Thich Nhat Tu, a senior representative of the state-backed Vietnamese sangha - or Buddhist religious association - which came to light earlier this week.

The letter, a copy of which has been seen by RFA, accuses Thich Minh Tue of impersonating a Buddhist monk, attempting to establish a dissident sect, and posing threat to public order and national reputation.

According to Chi, the Sri Lankan police were polite and respectful. They asked the monks to change their visas from those for tourists to those for pilgrims, to suit the purpose of the trip.

The Vietnamese were then put on two different buses, one for monks and one for volunteers and YouTubers, and taken to a pagoda in the nearby town of Alawwa, Chi said.

The monks were told they will not be allowed to travel on foot until their visas are changed, he said.

This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by RFA Vietnamese.

“Justice must be served in journalists’ killings,” said CPJ Asia Program Coordinator Beh Lih Yi. “It is alarming Sri Lanka’s attorney general seeks to drop charges against three key suspects in journalist Lasantha Wickrematunge’s murder without any public explanation. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake must deliver on his pledge to bring attacks on the press to justice.”

On January 27, Sri Lankan attorney general Parinda Ranasinghe issued a letter stating that his office will not pursue further legal action against three suspects, including a former army intelligence officer and two police officials, in Wickrematunge’s death. [this link isn’t working for me]

Ranasinghe, previously appointed by President Ranil Wickremesinghe’s administration, directed the Criminal Investigation Department to report progress within 14 days after presenting the update to the magistrate court, which will decide on the attorney general’s recommendation.

The former army intelligence officer is out on bail following his 2016 arrest on allegations of abducting and threatening Wickrematunge’s driver, a key witness in the case. The two former police officials are out on bail following their 2018 arrests for allegedly concealing evidence in the murder.

In response to the letter, Sri Lankan media minister Nalinda Jayatissa said on Wednesday that the government will “study this matter” and “do justice by the citizens of this country.”

No one has been convicted for dozens of murders, enforced disappearances, and abductions of journalists during and in the aftermath of Sri Lanka’s 26-year civil war that ended in 2009. In January, CPJ joined 24 civil society partners in urging the recently elected government to ensure accountability for violence against the press.

Jayatissa did not immediately respond to CPJ’s text message requesting comment. CPJ also emailed the Dissanayake and Ranasinghe’s offices for comment but did not immediately receive any reply.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by CPJ Staff.

CPJ has documented a persistent pattern of impunity for murders and attacks against journalists in Sri Lanka, including dozens that occurred during and in the aftermath of the country’s 26-year civil war that ended in 2009.

Read the full letter here.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by CPJ Staff.

“Sri Lankan authorities must take immediate steps to ensure the safety of journalist Murukaiya Thamilselvan and his family,” said CPJ Program Director Carlos Martinez de la Serna. “The recently elected Sri Lankan government must put an end to the longstanding impunity surrounding the harassment and assaults on Tamil journalists.”

Thamilselvan told CPJ that he was traveling home in northern Kilinochchi town when a black pickup truck, which had been following him for around 500 meters, intercepted his motorcycle.

Two men emerged from the car and asked, “Do you know who we are?” before hitting Thamilselvan, pushing him into their vehicle, and threatening to kill him, the journalist said. His leg caught in the vehicle door, preventing the attackers from closing it, and they fled as passersby stopped to watch.

He received treatment at a local hospital for chest, neck, and back pain.

Thamilselvan identified the assailants in a statement to police, following which authorities arrested two suspects on December 27. Although Thamilselvan identified the suspects in court on December 30, they were released on bail later that day, the journalist told CPJ.

Thamilselvan said that he believed the attack was in retaliation for his reporting, reviewed by CPJ, on alleged drug trafficking and sand smuggling for Tamil-language daily newspapers Uthayan and Thinakaran. The journalist said he feared for his safety and that of his family following the incident.

CPJ has documented persistent impunity for attacks on the Tamil press. Most of the journalists killed during Sri Lanka’s 1983 to 2009 civil war were Tamil. The conflict ended with the government’s defeat of the separatist Tamil Tigers.

Sarath Samaravikrama, officer-in-charge of the Kilinochchi police, told CPJ via messaging app that he was unable to immediately comment.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by CPJ Staff.

“With a new president, Sri Lanka has an opportunity to improve press freedom,” said CPJ Asia Program Coordinator Beh Lih Yi. “Police should drop their complaints against journalists Selvakumar Nilanthan and Tharindu Jayawardhana and allow them to work freely.”

On October 20, police in eastern Batticaloa district arrested Nilanthan after he did not attend a court hearing related to a 2019 investigation on multiple allegations, including obstruction of a public officer and defamation over his reporting on alleged government corruption.

Nilanthan told CPJ that neither he nor his lawyer received notice of the September hearing before he was detained in an overcrowded cell in Eravur town with an open defecation area. 

Nilathan was detained together with journalist Kuharasu Subajan, his surety in the case responsible for guaranteeing that the defendant appears for court hearings.

The two were released the next day, when Nilanthan was granted bail after a court denied the police’s request for a 14-day remand. His next hearing is on January 20. 

Separately, on October 9, Induka Silva — head of the police Criminal Investigation Department’s homicide unit — sought an order from the capital’s Colombo Fort Magistrate Court against Jayawardhana, editor-in-chief of the news website MediaLK, over a video in which he commented on allegations of misconduct against Silva and the appointment of Ravi Seneviratne to the Ministry of Public Security.

At the time the video was published, Silva was investigating Seneviratne over the government’s failure to prevent the 2019 Easter Sunday bombings that killed 269 people. Seneviratne was the senior deputy inspector-general of the CID at the time.

On October 12, Silva was transferred to the police headquarters, according to Jayawardhana and a copy of the order reviewed by CPJ.

Silva’s report, reviewed by CPJ, accused Jayawardhana — who has reported extensively on the attacks — of publishing false informationand obstructing the investigation into Seneviratne. The next hearing is scheduled for January 15, Jayawardhana told CPJ, adding that he feared he would be arrested.

Seneviratne told CPJ that Silva’s report against Jayawardhana violated the journalist’s freedom of expression. 

CID Director Mangala Dehideniya and Eravur police officer-in-charge N. Harsha de Silva told CPJ that they were unable to immediately comment and did not respond to CPJ’s subsequent text messages.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by CPJ Staff.

AKD’s presidential victory tickles and excites the election watchers for various reasons.  He does not hail from any of the dynastic families that have treated rule and the presidential office as electoral real estate and aristocratic privilege. The fall of the Rajapaksa family, propelled by mass protests against President Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s misrule in 2022, showed that the public had, at least for the time, tired of that tradition.

Not only is the new president outside the traditional orbit of rule and favour; he heads a political grouping known as the National People’s Power (NPP), a colourfully motley combination of trade unions, civil society members, women’s groups and students.  But the throbbing core of the group is the Janatha Vimukhti Peramuna (JVP), which boasts a mere three members in the 225-member parliament.

The resume of the JVP is colourfully cluttered and, in keeping with Sri Lankan political history, spattered with its fair share of blood.  It was founded in 1965 in the mould of a Marxist-Leninist party and led by Rohana Wijeweera.  It mounted, without success, two insurrections – in 1971 and between 1987 and 1989.  On both occasions, thousands died in the violence that followed, including Wijeweera and many party leaders, adding to the enormous toll that would follow in the civil war between the Sinhalese majority and the secessionist Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam.

It is also worth noting that the seduction of Marxism, just to add a level of complexity to matters, was not confined to the JVP.  The Tamil resistance had itself found it appealing.  A assessment from the Central Intelligence Agency from March 1986 offers the casual remark that “all major insurgent organizations claim allegiance to Marxism” with the qualification that “most active groups are motivated principally by ethnic rivalry with the majority Sinhalese.”  None had a clear political program “other than gaining Columbo’s recognition for a traditional homeland and a Tamil right to self-determination.”

By the time Dissanayake was cutting his teeth in local politics, the JVP was another beast, having been reconstituted by Somawansa Amarasinghe as an organisation keen to move into the arena of ballots rather than the field of armed struggle.  Dissanayake is very much a product of that change.  “We need to establish a new clean political culture … We will do the utmost to win back the people’s respect and trust in the political system.”

In a statement, Dissanayake was a picture of modest, if necessary, acknowledgment.  He praised the collective effort behind his victory, one being a consequence of the multitude.  “This achievement is not the result of any single person’s work, but the collective effort of hundreds of thousands of you.  Your commitment has brought us this far, and for that, I am deeply grateful.  This victory belongs to all of us.”

The unavoidable issue of racial fractiousness in the country is also mentioned.  “The unity of Sinhalese, Tamils, Muslims and all Sri Lankans is the bedrock of this new beginning.”  How the new administration navigates such traditionally poisoned waters will be a matter of interest and challenge, not least given the Sinhala nationalist rhetoric embraced by the JVP, notably towards the Tamil Tigers.

Pundits are also wondering where the new leader might position himself on foreign relations.  There is the matter of India’s unavoidably dominant role, a point that riles Dassanayake.  His preference, and a point he has repeatedly made, is self-sufficiency and economic sovereignty.  But India has a market worth US$6.7 billion whereas China, a more favoured country by the new president, comes in at US$2 billion.

On economics, a traditional, if modest program of nationalisation is being put forth by the JVP within the NPP, notably on such areas as utilities.  A wealth redistribution policy is on the table, including progressive, efficient taxation while a production model to encourage self-sufficiency, notably on important food products, is envisaged.  Greater spending is proposed in education and health care.

The issue of dealing with international lenders is particularly pressing, notably in dealing with the International Monetary Fund, which approved a US$2.9 billion bailout to the previous government on extracting the standard promises of austerity.  “We expect to discuss debt restructuring with the relevant parties and complete the process quickly and obtain the funds,” promises Dissanayake. That said, the governor of the Central Bank and the secretary to the ministry of finance, both important figures in implementing the austerity measures, have remained.

In coming to power, AKD has eschewed demagogic self-confidence.  “I have said before that I am not a magician – I am an ordinary citizen.  There are things I know and don’t know.  My aim is to gather those with the knowledge and skills to help lift this country.”  In the febrile atmosphere that is Sri Lankan politics, that admission is a humble, if realistic one.

This content originally appeared on Dissident Voice and was authored by Binoy Kampmark.

Prageeth, a then 50-year-old cartoonist and columnist for the news website Lanka e News was last seen by his family and colleagues in the suburbs of Sri Lanka’s capital Colombo on January 24, 2010, two days before elections that gave incumbent President Mahinda Rajapaksa a sweeping victory.

Dozens of journalists were murdered, assaulted, and intimidated throughout Rajapaksa’s presidency from 2005 to 2015, with violence often linked to media coverage of Sri Lanka’s 26-year civil war between the government and separatist Tamil Tiger rebels, which ended in 2009.

Mahinda Rajapaksa’s brother, Gotabaya, was defense secretary at the time and has been accused of involvement in multiple attacks on journalists, including Prageeth’s disappearance and the 2009 murder of Lasantha Wickrematunge. Gotabaya Rajapaksa has denied any involvement in these cases.

After the Rajapaksas were voted out in 2015, an investigation by the police Criminal Investigation Department found that a military intelligence unit abducted and most likely killed Prageeth. Nine military officials were served indictments on kidnapping and murder charges in November 2019, when Gotabaya Rajapaksa was elected president.

A commission of inquiry set up by Gotabaya Rajapaksa in 2020 issued a report recommending the acquittal of all accused in Prageeth’s case. A retired military officer and key witness who previously testified that he interrogated Prageeth at an army camp following the journalist’s disappearance later changed his testimony when he was summoned before the commission.

Gotabaya Rajapaksa resigned in 2022 and Prageeth’s case is the only ongoing prosecution regarding grave crimes against journalists in Sri Lanka, which local analysts say have never resulted in a conviction.  

With a portrait of Prageeth hanging on the wall of their home, Sandya Ekneligoda spoke with CPJ about the obstacles in pursuing justice for her husband, her concern that the Rajapaksas are using their political connections to disrupt prosecution of her husband’s case, and her hopes for the future as Sri Lanka is set for a presidential election later this year.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Can you describe the months leading to your husband’s disappearance?

Prageeth was first abducted on August 27, 2009 and released on the 28th. [He told me] they threw him into a white van. They tied him to a pole and interrogated him while there was a bright light above his head so he could feel the unbearable heat. They refused to give him his diabetes and heart medication.

When they released him, they asked him to get down from the vehicle and sit down. He thought, “They are going to shoot me. This is going to be my last day.” They said, “Sit until you don’t hear the vehicle’s sound. Then, you can remove the blindfold and walk.”

Even though Prageeth filed a police complaint, no actions were taken. He received many anonymous calls. He took some security measures because he was being followed. He took different routes in the morning and evening. But Prageeth never stopped his work.

What happened on January 24, 2010?

My two sons and I saw Prageeth in the morning before he went to his office. In the evening, we were supposed to attend a “bodhi puja”[ceremony], so he wore the white shirt of our 15-year-old son. When he was wearing it, he was really happy and said, “Our son has grown up.” I can never forget what he said on that day.

Every day, I would call him around 9:15 p.m. I tried to call him three or four times but his mobile was switched off. I started to panic. My heart was pounding and I was shaking. I knew something was wrong because of what happened when he was abducted before.

When I went to the police station, they did not want to accept my complaint at first. The [officer-in-charge] said, “Your husband might still be at home. Why don’t you go look for him? These days, people are getting ‘abducted’ to get famous.”

What has your journey to locate Prageeth looked like?

I believe no woman should go through what I have gone through. The first thing was hate speech, including from politicians and ministers. They said that I don’t cry, so it’s an act. The former attorney general went to the U.N. and said that Prageeth was living in another country.

In 2015, when the CID started to investigate, all of a sudden [rumors circulated that] Prageeth was a “terrorist.” But multiple government agencies said he did not have ties to any terrorist organization.

They started to paste posters in public areas, saying I was able to go to Geneva [the U.N. office where Sandya has advocated for her husband] by selling rice packets. Sometimes I was not allowed to sit in tuk-tuks and buses. There were shops that didn’t allow me to buy goods.

[When Prageeth disappeared], my elder son was 15 and my younger son was 12. It was a continuous struggle for me to look after my children’s well-being and fight for justice for my husband. Whenever I ensured my children were coming out of trauma, again another problem started.

What would you like to see next in your fight for justice?

I will make sure I get justice through the judicial system. But the three-judge panel has repeatedly changed. One judge was transferred so one seat is vacant. Of the two remaining judges, one judge is a former brigadier and worked closely with the army. I have also requested the chief justice to change that judge.

Are you concerned that the Rajapakas could still try to interfere in the case?
Even though the Rajapaksas have lost power, that doesn’t mean they have lost their [government] connections. None of them want to get the Rajapaksa family indicted in this case, so [those connections] will make sure to drag out [the proceedings] to protect this family.

How would you like Prageeth to be remembered?
I want the world to remember Prageeth as someone who wrote about the important issues and understood the responsibility of being a journalist. When others are talking about my Prageeth, it means he is still living in people’s hearts.    

CPJ’s calls and WhatsApp messages to Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s aide Sugeeshwara Bandara and police spokesperson Nihal Thalduwa did not receive any replies. Ministry of Defense spokesperson Nalin Herath did not respond to CPJ’s emailed request for comment.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Sonali Dhawan.

Around 12:30 p.m. on August 22, approximately 50 Sinhalese men led by a Buddhist monk surrounded vehicles holding the three journalists after they reported on alleged state-backed encroachments on Tamil cattle farmers’ land in the Mylathamadu area of the eastern district of Batticaloa, according to news reports, the rights group Journalists for Democracy in Sri Lanka, and the three journalists, who spoke to CPJ.

The men—some armed with knives and swords—moved the three journalists and around 17 others, including farmers and members of an accompanying interfaith group, to an open area and held them in the presence of officers from a local government development authority. 

Although the interfaith group leaders immediately called the police, officers only arrived five hours later, after Tamil lawmakers raised the issue on the parliament floor.

As of August 30, police have not opened an investigation into the incident, the three journalists told CPJ. CPJ’s messages to the officer-in-charge of the Karadiyanaru Police Station, which oversees Mylathamadu, and Sri Lankan police spokesperson Nihal Thalduwa did not receive any replies. 

“Sri Lankan authorities must thoroughly and impartially investigate the recent harassment of Selvakumar Nilanthan, Valasingham Krishnakumar, and Antony Christopher Christiraj by a mob in Batticaloa, and work to end the pattern of impunity relating to attacks on Tamil reporters,” said Carlos Martinez de la Serna, CPJ’s program director. “Tamil journalists have a right to report on issues affecting their community without interference or fear of reprisal.”

Ethnic tensions persist between the Sinhalese people, the country’s majority ethnic group, and Tamils following the country’s 26-year civil war that ended in 2009.

Nilanthan, secretary of the Batticaloa District Tamil Journalists Association, was wearing a press jacket and reporting for the privately owned U.K.-based broadcaster IBC Tamil. While he was held, several of the men forced him to delete photos and videos of farmers’ testimonies and the mob setting fire to the land. 

He said they also forced him to sign two letters in Sinhala and Tamil stating that he would not report on the incident.

Christiraj, a freelance reporter, and Krishnakumar, a freelancer and the head of the Batticaloa District Tamil Journalists Association, were not wearing press jackets, hid their cameras, and did not inform the mob that they were reporters, they told CPJ.

When Christiraj and Krishnakumar later told police at the scene that they were members of the press, the Buddhist monk asked a police official to order all three journalists to delete their photos and videos, the reporters told CPJ, adding that the official did not comply with the request.

Members of the mob also pressured Krishnakumar to delete photos and videos after learning he was a journalist, which he refused to do, he said.

Although the mob assaulted a Hindu priest, the three journalists were not physically harmed, they told CPJ, adding that they felt traumatized and feared for their safety if they continued to report on the farmers’ plight.

In November 2020, police questioned Nilanthan at his home after reporting on Tamil farmers’ concerns following the growth of military-backed Sinhalese settlements in the district, including Mylathamadu.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Committee to Protect Journalists.

At around 3 p.m. on Friday, July 28, police arrested Uduwaragedara after he covered a trade union protest in Borella, a suburb of the capital Colombo, according to Journalists for Democracy in Sri Lanka, a rights group operating from exile, and Jayantha Dehiaththage, the journalist’s lawyer, who spoke with CPJ by phone.

Officers pulled Uduwaragedara out of a rickshaw while he was leaving the protest and forced him into a police vehicle while he repeatedly identified himself as a journalist, according to Dehiaththage and video of the incident posted to Twitter.

Two officers beat Uduwaragedara while en route to the Borella Police Station, where he remained detained without charge or access to medical treatment for a head injury as of Friday evening, Dehiaththage said.

“The arrest and police beating of Sri Lankan journalist Tharindu Uduwaragedara are appalling, and authorities must immediately release him and provide him with access to medical care,” said Beh Lih Yi, CPJ’s Asia program coordinator. “Authorities must hold the perpetrators of this attack accountable and ensure that journalists can cover protests without fear of reprisal.”

Uduwaragedara operates the political affairs YouTube channel Satahan Radio, which has over 170,000 subscribers.

He is due to appear before a Colombo magistrate on Saturday, Dehiaththage told CPJ, saying that authorities had not disclosed any specific allegations against the journalist.

Police used water cannons and tear gas to disperse the protest, where demonstrators had gathered to oppose the slashing of pension funds amid a severe economic crisis.

CPJ called police spokesperson Nihal Thalduwa and contacted him via messaging app for comment, but did not receive any replies.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Erik Crouch.

On the early morning of July 22, Sri Lankan security forces assaulted at least four members of the press, including three journalists with the privately owned digital news platform Xposure News, covering a military raid on a protest site and subsequent demonstration in Colombo, the capital, according to those journalists, who spoke with CPJ by phone.

Separately, police arrived at the Xposure News office on Wednesday, July 27, seeking three journalists who had covered protests for the outlet, those journalists said.

Protests have broken out throughout Sri Lanka amid an ongoing political and economic crisis; President Gotabaya Rajapaksa fled the country on July 13 and resigned the next day, and former Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe was sworn in as the new president on July 21.

“The repeated attacks on journalists covering political unrest in Sri Lanka must come to an immediate end. The government must order security forces to cease detaining and harassing journalists covering the country’s political and economic crisis,” said Carlos Martinez de la Serna, CPJ’s program director, in Madrid. “Authorities must thoroughly investigate these attacks, hold the perpetrators to account, and cease harassing the staff of Xposure News.”

At about 1:20 a.m. on July 22, Sri Lankan Army officers attacked Jareen Samuel, a camera operator and video editor with BBC News, while he was covering security forces’ raid on a protest camp in the Galle Face area of Colombo, according to multiple reports by the BBC and Samuel, who spoke to CPJ by phone.

Samuel told CPJ that he and members of his reporting team showed their press IDs and foreign accreditation cards to the officers, who then repeatedly slapped Samuel, pushed him to the ground, and kicked him several times in the abdomen. He said an officer also confiscated his phone, deleted videos from it, and then returned it.

Samuel was treated at a local hospital for an injury to his abdomen, he told CPJ.

Also early that morning, officers with the Sri Lankan Air Force attacked three journalists with Xposure News while they covered a protest in the Kollupitiya area of Colombo, according to a video of the incident published by Xposure News and the three journalists, who spoke to CPJ by phone.  

Shortly before 3 a.m., officers first attacked Chaturanga Pradeep Kumara, a videographer, video editor, and researcher with the outlet, according to the journalist and that video. Kumara said an officer beat him on the legs with a baton, knocking him to the ground; when he could not get up, officers dragged him to a dark area nearby as he repeatedly identified himself as a journalist.

At that location, air force and army officers confiscated his phone and his personal and press ID cards, Kumara said. Officers deleted several videos from Kumara’s phone and ordered him to contort his body into positions used as punishment among members of the Sri Lankan Army; when the journalist was unable to put himself in those positions, he said the officers beat him with batons and then lined him up with other detainees and repeatedly slapped them across their ears.

After about three hours, officers returned Kumara’s phone and identification cards and released him, the journalist told CPJ, saying he received painkillers for a muscle injury to his leg at a local hospital.

Shortly after officers detained Kumara, Xposure News digital head Rasika Gunawardana and Shabeer Mohammed, a freelance journalist reporting for the outlet, were filming security forces allegedly attacking civilians when a group of air force officers surrounded them, ordered them to stop filming, and threw Mohammed’s phone to the ground, according that video of the incident and the two journalists. Gunawardena said that an officer then struck him on the head from behind with a baton, and Mohammed said officers hit him from behind on his neck.

Gunawardena and Mohammed received treatment at a local hospital for their injuries and were prescribed painkillers, they said.

The three Xposure News journalists told CPJ that they were unable to identify the officers who attacked them because they were not wearing badges and their faces were covered.

On July 27, two police officers visited Xposure News’ office in Colombo, and showed the building’s security guard photos of Kumara,  Gunawardana, and Mohammed, according to the three journalists and a tweet by Journalists for Democracy in Sri Lanka, a local press freedom group. The officers asked whether the journalists worked there, and also asked the security guard to provide access to CCTV footage of the building, the three journalists told CPJ, adding that the guard refused their requests.

Sri Lanka police spokesperson Nihal Thalduwa did not respond to CPJ’s request for comment sent via messaging app. CPJ emailed Nalin Herat, a spokesperson for the Ministry of Defense, which oversees the army and air force, but did not receive any reply.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Erik Crouch.

The Prime Minister of Sri Lanka said he would resign on Saturday and the nation's president was called on to do the same after anti-government demonstrators—following months of growing protest and anger over a boiling economic crisis—overran the presidential palace and other buildings of top officials.

"Today we have fought for our freedom from the tyranny and the scoundrels and greedy politicians who have run our nation to ground zero."

According to the Associated Press:

Protesters on Saturday broke into the Sri Lankan prime minister's private residence and set it on fire hours after he said he would resign when a new government is formed, in the biggest day of angry demonstrations that also saw crowds storming the president's home and office.

The office of Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe said the protesters forced their way into his Colombo home in the evening. It wasn't immediately clear if he was inside at the time.

Wickremesinghe announced earlier that he would resign in response to calls by political leaders for him and President Gotabaya Rajapaksa to quit, after tens of thousands of people trooped to the capital to vent their fury over the nation's economic and political crisis.

On the ground in the capital city of Colombo, Al Jazeera correspondent Minelle Fernandez said the demonstrators were adamant the president must go. 

"Tens of thousands of Sri Lankans are still streaming into Colombo," Fernandez reported. "People stormed railway stations and literally forced employees to put them on trains and bring them to Colombo. They say they are taking their country back."

As the New York Times notes in its reporting on the crisis, "Sri Lanka has run out of foreign-exchange reserves for imports of essential items like fuel and medicine, and the United Nations has warned that more than a quarter of Sri Lanka's 21 million people are at risk of food shortages." The demonstrations have been growing for months, but even a series of government resignations have not stemmed the populist anger that culminated on Saturday.

"I came here today to send the president home," Wasantha Kiruwaththuduwa, who had walked 10 miles to join the protest, told the Times. "Now the president must resign. If he wants peace to prevail, he must step down."

Al-Jazeera reports:

Months of protests have nearly dismantled the Rajapaksa political dynasty that has ruled Sri Lanka for most of the past two decades.

One of Rajapaksa's brothers resigned as prime minister last month, and two other brothers and a nephew quit their cabinet posts earlier.

Wickremesinghe took over as prime minister in May and protests temporarily waned in the hope he could find cash for the country’s urgent needs.

But people now want him to resign as well, saying he has failed to fulfil his promises. One demonstrator held the Sri Lankan flag in one hand and a placard in the other that read: "Pissu Gota, Pissu Ranil" (Insane Gota, Insane Ranil) in Sinhalese.

Thyagi Ruwanpathirana, a researcher at Amnesty International told Al Jazeera Sri Lanka will "not come out of this crisis for some time."

Footage being shared on social media showed demonstrators, having taken over the presidential palace, swimming in the pool and cheering from the rooftops:

Reporting indicated security personnel was no longer present in the palace, nor in the president's nearby offices which had also been overrun by protesters.

"Today is independence day for me being born in this nation, not 1948, because today we have fought for our freedom from the tyranny and the scoundrels and greedy politicians who have run our nation to ground zero," one protester told Al Jazeera.

This content originally appeared on Common Dreams - Breaking News & Views for the Progressive Community and was authored by Common Dreams staff.

Those details and others are the pointillist dots of color that Silva, formerly a detective with Sri Lanka’s Criminal Investigation Department, has assembled into a vivid picture building what he says is the complicity of Sri Lanka’s current president, Gotabaya Rajapaksa, in the 2009 murder of journalist Lasantha Wickrematunge. Silva believes that Rajapaksa—then secretary of defense—had the means, the opportunity and as, he said in a written statement, “a clear motive for killing Lasantha Wickrematunge” – to prevent the journalist from testifying against him in court. 

Rajapaksa has denied any involvement in extrajudicial killings, abductions, and disappearances, according to The Guardian.

Silva ran an official probe into Wickrematunge’s killing from 2015 to 2019, but his work was cut short when he fled the country after Rajapaksa, whom he had questioned in a related case and who had been accused in a civil suit filed by Wickrematunge’s daughter, Ahimsa Wickrematunge, of having “instigated and authorized the extrajudicial killing” of the journalist, was elected president. The civil case, filed in a U.S. court, was dismissed because the court said Rajapaksa was entitled to legal immunity in his official role. 

Now, the detective has spoken publicly about his findings for the first time in explosive testimony at a May 13 hearing of The People’s Tribunal in The Hague. Co-sponsored by the Committee to Protect Journalists, the tribunal features staged trials with real witnesses, experts (including the author of this piece), prosecutors, and esteemed judges to draw attention to journalist killings that have eluded justice. 

Tribunal witnesses presented reams of evidence pointing to culpability by the Ministry of Defense when Rajapaksa was secretary. Successful prosecution of the case in an actual court of law would mark an enormous victory for press freedom in Sri Lanka. However, while some arrests were made while Silva was in charge of the investigation, suspects were released on bail and official proceedings have ground to a halt. 

The story of the murder is as follows: On January 8, 2009, while Wickrematunge, editor of The Sunday Leader, was driving to his office, motorcycle riders stopped his car and bludgeoned him to death in broad daylight on the streets of Colombo, the capital. Coinciding with a crescendo of violence in Sri Lanka’s long-running civil war, his murder came to epitomize the extensive attacks against the media, as well as the lack of justice for any of the journalists harmed or killed. This impunity, along with the election of a man widely seen as responsible for crimes against journalists, continues to haunt the media industry today. 

Most journalists attacked and murdered during this period came from Sri Lanka’s Tamil minority. Wickrematunge hailed from the Sinhalese majority, but he became an especially prominent critic of the government and a widely known and revered figure. In particular, he had exposed alleged corruption involving then Defense Secretary Rajapaksa. Rajapaksa subsequently lodged a defamation suit against Wickrematunge, who was murdered just weeks before he was due to give testimony in court.

From the day of the murder, it seemed obvious to observers, as Wickrematunge himself pointed out just before he was killed, that only government officials would have had a motive to go after him due to his reporting on government corruption. Wickrematunge predicted his own death in a column written just before his murder and published posthumously. But proving what that connection was, who was behind it, and seeing justice in a court of law, was a different matter. Silva’s testimony, sometimes excruciatingly detailed, has been key in piecing the evidence together. 

Silva’s testimony has three broad elements: 1) the stalling of the investigation; 2) the cover-up and generation of misleading clues; 3) links to the Ministry of Defense. Silva argues that the murder was committed by the Ministry of Defense, then headed by Rajapaksa, who had the institutional power to thwart any investigation. 

In 2015, Sri Lankans voted in a new government headed by President Maithripala Sirisena, who had campaigned in part on promises to seek justice for transgressions of the previous government, including attacks on journalists. At that time Silva, an experienced detective, was assigned to head Wickrematunge’s murder investigation at the Criminal Investigation Division. What Silva found, he told the tribunal, were that authorities took steps aimed at stalling the investigation. 

Local police in Mount Lavinia, a southern suburb of Colombo where the murder took place, initially picked up the investigation. In response to a complaint from the victim’s family, Silva explained, the case was transferred later in the year to the Criminal Investigation Department, which had greater experience and resources to pursue the investigation. But the next year, the case was transferred again to the Terrorism Investigation Division (TID), which lacked the experience or resources for an investigation, according to Silva’s oral testimony. There, after a fashion, the investigation ground to a halt.

Before Silva took over the investigation, obvious clues or anomalies in the evidence were pursued half-heartedly, if at all, and mysterious events seemed to block avenues of inquiry, he said. For example, police named an eyewitness to the murder who claimed he could identify the attackers, but they never pursued that lead. Police took possession of Wickrematunge’s notebooks that were in the car, but they were confiscated by the deputy inspector general of the police, after which they disappeared. (A photo taken of a notebook cover shows motorcycle license plate numbers that Wickrematunge apparently scribbled down before his murder.)

Silva’s written testimony described cell phone SIM cards used by the motorcyclists who chased Wickrematunge that were traced back to a man linked to military intelligence, whose salary and allowances continued to be paid as he spent a year in jail. Silva called the payments “hush money.” Another individual linked to the SIM cards died in custody, which Silva termed “suspicious.” No investigation followed the death. 

A police inspector launched a search in a lake for one of the motorcycles used to chase the journalist and mysteriously knew exactly where to find it. Then police arrested a person who had sold the motorcycle months earlier. Silva concluded the episode was a ruse designed to throw the investigation off the trail.

There were other misleading arrests. The TID arrested and held security officials of a political rival to Rajapaksa who had no apparent connection to the murder.  

The case Silva makes is, broadly, as follows: By tracing cell phone data, including movements between different towers, Silva established that members of a military intelligence unit known as the Tripoli Platoon chased Wickrematunge on a circuitous route through Colombo before killing him. The same cell phones and individuals were linked to attacks on other journalists, including Keith Noyahr and Upali Tennakoon. 

Silva uncovered evidence of official pressure to falsify the initial autopsy in what he saw as an effort to confuse the investigation. The initial autopsy listed the cause of death as a gunshot wound; Silva obtained a court order to exhume the body, where the cause of death was determined to be heavy blows with a pointed weapon. 

These are just examples from the mass of evidence relating to the murder of Wickrematunge. As for the possible guilt of then Defense Secretary and now President Gotabaya Rajapaksa, the case is still circumstantial, but Silva’s mountain of details led him to a number of key findings.  First, that the military men Silva says carried out the killing “could not operate without the knowledge of senior officers.” Second, that the chain of command has only three intervening levels between these intelligence officers and the defense secretary, who was directly engaged in other cases involving the same Tripoli Platoon. Third, the defense secretary had a clear motive to get rid of Wickrematunge, as well as the means through the chain of command to either support or thwart an investigation. 

CPJ requests for comments emailed to the office of President Rajapaksa, the Ministry of Defense, and the Terrorism Investigation Division of the Criminal Investigation Department were not answered. 

Silva cites “credible suspicion” that the 2008 abduction of journalist Noyahr was a crime “committed with the knowledge and possibly orders of Gotabaya Rajapaksa.” And he notes that there is evidence that the same crew was complicit in “several atrocities, including the murder of Lasantha,” thus, he says, drawing a direct line to Rajapaksa. 

Would that hold up in a court of law? While Silva’s details point clearly up the chain of command at the Ministry of Defense, the direct link to Rajapaksa remains circumstantial. Perhaps that could be firmed up with further investigation. Let’s hope that’s put to the test and that The People’s Tribunal in The Hague has added momentum to the search for justice in Wickrematunge’s murder.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Steven Butler.

The post Dear Times and Costly Cricket: Australia’s Sri Lankan Tour appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Binoy Kampmark.

A good deal of this crisis was helped by the coming to power of former defence minister Gotabaya Rajapaksa who, in turn, named his older brother, Mahinda, also a former president, prime minister.  Their 2020 election victory was thumping, decisive, and corrupting.  Graft and nepotism set in.  Quixotic decisions to cut taxes eroded state revenue.  COVID-19 began its seemingly inexorable march of infection.

Showing a developed streak of obliviousness to the developing storm around them, the Rajapaksas even went so far as to ban chemical fertilizers as part of a drive to make farmers embrace organic agriculture.  To do so during this crisis battered and bruised the country’s agrarian sector.

And what of the cricket bureaucrats?  “These are tough times for our people,” a regretful Sri Lanka Cricket Secretary Mohan De Silva told reporters in Colombo.  “We are indeed grateful to Cricket Australia and the Australian government for supporting this series despite the hardships we as a nation are facing.”

Sri Lanka Cricket, in pushing the positive message, has intimated that all income from tickets for the three Twenty20s, five one-day internationals and two Test matches will be donated to initiatives for the public welfare.  De Silva is confident that $2.5 million (AU$3.5 million) will be generated by the tour, along with incidental earnings.  “From three-wheel drivers to suppliers of food, all these stakeholders down the line will have an opportunity to earn something for one and a half months.  So, economically this will have a significant effect on this country.”

This would seem to be getting things the wrong way around.  On some level, this confusion is forgivable, given the poor returns from a game that was played to generally empty stadiums during the ravages of the COVID-19 pandemic.  Last December, a 50 percent capacity crowd was permitted to see the touring West Indians.

Assessments from the SLC should, however, be taken at face value.  In 2018, the International Cricket Council identified Sri Lanka as having one of the most corrupt cricketing cultures in the sporting world.  Over recent years, the board has been at war with itself, and with players whom they have, at various times, censured, punished and suspended.  Money has been appropriated; matches and pitches fixed.

Sri Lanka’s own 1996 World Cup winning captain, Arjuna Ranatunga, gives us a sense about an organisation that has governed the game with indulgent haphazardness and raging incompetence.  Last month, he was unrestrained in claiming that the cricket board, habitually filled with “thieves”, was “the most corrupt institution in the country.”

Australian cricketers, never the sharpest students of culture and their surrounds, have preferred to avoid any detailed examination of cricket officialdom in Sri Lanka.  But they have voiced some concern about the visit.  “It’s fair to say,” states chief executive officer of Cricket Australia, Todd Greenberg, “there is a level of discomfort around touring in conditions that contrast with those faced by the people of Sri Lanka, such as rising food prices, power cuts and fuel rationing.”

He was confident, however, that the players would not pipe up too much.  “Ultimately our players want to continue to play cricket and will take direction, guidance and advice from CA about tour arrangements and planning.”

Cricket Australia, in turn, had satisfied itself that touring the country would be safe.  “There is no change in the status of the tour,” CA stated in early May.  “Our head of security confirms that there are no concerns about the tour proceeding as scheduled from either side.”

That is all good for De Silva, who sees the Australians as standard bearers for peaceful reassurance and cash.  Having them tour Sri Lanka will send “a strong message to the world that Sri Lanka is safe.  Millions of people will be watching the telecast during the matches.”

The optimism is pure veneer.  While Sri Lanka Cricket markets itself as donor and provider, so far donating $2 million to the health sector to purchase vital medicines, initiatives such as the tour are glaringly sapping. The T20 matches, for instance, are billed as thrilling under-the-light affairs.  But to supply them with electricity during a time when Sri Lankans face rolling power cuts lasting for periods up to 15 hours a day, speaks of authoritative condescension.

A former manager of the Sri Lanka national team, Charith Senanayake, is not one to be too bothered by such problems.  “We have our own generators and we don’t depend on the government’s power,” he boasted last month.  “The political situation has no bearing on the game and the SLC is always apolitical.”

The cricket schedule of the Australians has, given the fuel shortages, already presented a problem.  SLC hoped that the longer matches, which will take place during the day and not require night lighting, will be played in the first part of the tour.  “Because of the fuel problem,” De Silva stated, “we had a discussion with Cricket Australia and were trying to persuade them to start with the two Tests because the two Test matches don’t need any [lights].”  Unfortunately, Australia, in fielding three touring teams, would have been unduly disrupted.  “We didn’t want to push too much because of the fact that the Australians have been very generous in their thinking.”

The thinking here is less generous than loose.  While the Australians will delight the crowds and offer succour for distraction, they will do little to shake the impression that both the government of the day and Sri Lanka Cricket share an awful lot in common, little of which is good.

This content originally appeared on Dissident Voice and was authored by Binoy Kampmark.

Sri Lanka’s prime minister stepped down Monday following weeks of street protests over the country’s worst economic crisis in its history, which has seen skyrocketing food and fuel prices in the island nation. Prime Minister Mahinda Rajapaksa’s resignation came after supporters of the ruling party stormed a major protest site in the capital Colombo, attacking protesters and prompting clashes with police. President Gotabaya Rajapaksa, the outgoing prime minister’s brother, has declared a state of emergency and remains in power, despite protesters’ demands for the resignations of all members of the political dynasty that has dominated Sri Lanka’s politics for decades. “The gross mismanagement of our economy by this regime combined with a history of neoliberal policies is what has brought Sri Lanka to its knees,” says Ahilan Kadirgamar, a political economist and senior lecturer at the University of Jaffna in northern Sri Lanka.

This content originally appeared on Democracy Now! and was authored by Democracy Now!.

The two case hearings will feature testimony from experts and journalists speaking to the threats facing the press in both countries. The cases will also consider evidence and testimony in both the murder of Sri Lankan journalist Lasantha Wickrematunge, and the Syrian journalist Nabil Al-Sharbaji. Wickrematunge was a leading independent journalist known for reporting on the Sri Lankan civil war and the Rajapaksa regime, and foresaw his own death at the hands of government assassins in a posthumously published editorial. Al-Sharbaji documented protests in the Syrian city of Darayya and suffered multiple arbitrary arrests, and as a result of torture and prison conditions, died in government custody. The People’s Tribunal has officially notified the Sri Lankan and Syrian governments of the indictment and invited them to represent themselves during the hearing in order to present a defense.

The People’s Tribunals on the Murder of Journalists are a form of alternative justice organized by A Safer World for the Truth, a collaborative project between the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), Reporters Without Borders (RSF) and Free Press Unlimited (FPU). The Syria case is also being supported by the Syrian Center for Media and Freedom of Expression. People’s Tribunals are designed to hold states accountable for violations of international law by building public awareness and generating a legitimate evidence record, and play an important role in empowering victims and recording their stories.

In addition to the Syria and Sri Lanka cases, the Tribunal previously heard testimony in a case in Mexico on April 25 and 26. Verdicts in all three cases are expected on June 20, 2022, in The Hague. 

WHAT: People’s Tribunal on the Murder of Journalists – Case of Lasantha Wickrematunge (Sri Lanka) and Nabil Al-Sharbaji (Syria)

WHEN: 

Sri Lanka hearing
May 12 and 13 
09:00-17:00 CET/ 07:00-15:00 GMT

Syria hearing
May 16 and 17
09:00-17:00 CET/ 07:00-15:00 GMT

WHERE:  The Hague, the Netherlands 

RSVP: To attend in person or request the link to join via livestream (in English, Tamil/Sinhala, Arabic), email press@cpj.org 

WHO: Read about the judges
Read about the prosecutors

Witnesses will include:

• Deputy Chair of the High Level Panel of Legal Experts on Media Freedom, Catherine Amirfar
• Syrian journalist, Paul Conroy
• Journalist, lawyer and director of the Syrian Center for Media and Freedom of Expression, Mazen Darwish
• Sri Lankan activist, Sandhya Eknaligoda 
• Syrian journalist, Hala Kodmani
• Former UN Special Rapporteur on torture and other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment, Juan Mendez

Media Contact:
press@cpj.org

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Committee to Protect Journalists.

On Friday, April 1, the Sri Lankan government declared the emergency, which allows authorities to conduct warrantless arrests, and imposed a curfew to contain protests after violent demonstrations over the country’s economic crisis erupted last week, according to news reports.

On the evening of March 31, Sri Lankan police and security forces arrested at least six journalists covering a protest outside President Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s private residence in the Mirihana district of the capital Colombo, according to a report by Journalists for Democracy in Sri Lanka (JDS), a local press freedom group; a statement by the Federation of Media Employees Trade Union (FMETU), a local network of trade unions for journalists and media workers; news reports; and a JDS representative, who spoke to CPJ on the condition of anonymity due to fear of government reprisal.

Police arrested over 50 people at the protest, used tear gas and water cannons to disperse the demonstrators, and filed a complaint against over 50 individuals, including the six journalists. According to the JDS representative, the six have been accused of violating Section 120 of the penal code, which makes it an offense to “excite feelings of disaffection” against the president or government. If convicted, the journalists could face up to two years in prison.

“Sri Lanka must not use the state of emergency as a pretext to muzzle press freedom during this critical moment in the country’s history, when access to information is vital for all citizens,” said Steven Butler, CPJ’s Asia program coordinator, in Washington, D.C. “Authorities must cease detaining and harassing journalists, allow the media to report safely and independently, and ensure unrestricted access to social media and communication platforms.”

The Gangodawila Magistrates’ Court in the Nugegoda municipality, a suburb of Colombo, granted bail for the six journalists on April 1, according to the JDS representative.

On Sunday, April 3, authorities restricted access to a number of social media and communication platforms, including Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp, Viber, and YouTube, which was largely restored after 16 hours, according to NetBlocks, a watchdog organization that monitors internet censorship.

CPJ was unable to immediately identify contact details for the six journalists and confirm their exact job titles due to country-wide power shortages caused by the ongoing economic turmoil. CPJ is continuing to investigate the circumstances surrounding the arrests and detention of the six journalists.

The following six journalists were detained while covering the protest, according to the FMETU and JDS:

1. Chatura Deshan, who was reporting for the privately owned Sinhala-language television network Sirasa TV.
2. Sumedha Sanjeewa Gallage, who was reporting for the privately owned Sinhala-language television network Derana TV, was seen being escorted into a police vehicle in a Facebook Live video taken by a bystander circulated on social media on April 1. Gallage told Sri Lanka’s  Sunday Times that he was assaulted by officers with the Special Task Force, an elite paramilitary unit of the Sri Lankan police, at the protest after repeatedly identifying himself as a journalist and showing his media identification card. He appeared to have sustained significant bruising to his face and his shirt appeared to be covered in blood in a photo circulated on social media. Gallage said he was assaulted by another unidentified individual before he was taken to the Mirihana police station and received medical treatment at a hospital after he was released on bail, according to The Sunday Times. Gallage says he lost partial vision in his right eye due to the assault and will require further medical treatment.
3. Awanka Kumara, who was reporting for Sirasa TV. Kumara’s video camera was smashed during a police baton charge, according to JDS. “I never thought that journalists would be assaulted in such a manner because they know us. We have been reporting on these events for a long time,” Kumara told LankaFiles.
4. Waruna Wanniarachchi, who was reporting for the privately owned Sinhala-language daily newspaper Lankādeepa.
5. Nishshanka Werapitiya, who was reporting for Derana TV, appeared to have sustained bruising to his face in a photo shared by JDS on Twitter.
6. Pradeep Wickramasinghe, who was reporting for Derana TV, appeared to have sustained several bruises to his right arm in a photo shared by JDS on Twitter.

CPJ is investigating reports that Nisal Baduge, who was reporting for the privately owned English-language daily newspaper Daily Mirror, and Lahiru Chamara, who was reporting for Derana TV, were also assaulted while covering the March 31 protest.

On Sunday, April 3, 2022, the Tamil National People’s Front, a political alliance representing the ethnic Tamil minority, reported that police stopped journalists from entering its office in the Kokkuvil suburb of the northern city of Jaffna, where they arrived to cover its media conference, harassed them, and turned them away after registering their names. CPJ was unable to immediately confirm the identities of those journalists.

CPJ is also investigating reports that a group of individuals who presented themselves as members of the president’s media division threatened and intimidated Tharindu Jayawardena, editor-in-chief of the privately owned news website medialk.com. Jayawardena lodged a complaint at the Mirihana police station in response to the incident, according to the FMETU.

In July 2021, a collective of media organizations wrote a letter to Chandana Wickramaratne, inspector-general of the Sri Lankan Police, after Deshabandu Tennakoon, senior deputy inspector-general of the western province of Sri Lanka, threatened Jayawardena for “publishing fabricated news items” after the journalist shared a medialk.com article on Facebook, which reported that Tennakoon had received a salary increase following the 2019 Easter bombings.

Sri Lanka police spokesperson Nihal Thalduwa did not respond to CPJ’s request for comment sent via messaging app. The office of President Rajapaksa did not respond to CPJ’s emailed request for comment.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Committee to Protect Journalists.

Two CID officers had visited Nilanthan’s home on February 7 and February 8 and demanded that he appear at the Eravur police station for questioning, according to those sources. Nilanthan told CPJ that he believes authorities have subjected him to repeated harassment in retaliation for his journalism and his association with the Batticaloa District Tamil Journalists Association.

During the questioning, three officers asked Nilanthan about his biographical history; connections to the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, a banned group in Sri Lanka; his relationship with diaspora news organizations; and his work with the Batticaloa District Tamil Journalists Association, according to those sources.

Nilanthan was questioned about similar topics on July 12, 2021, when officers with the Batticaloa District’s Terrorism Investigation Division, another branch of the Sri Lanka police, demanded the login details of his Facebook, WhatsApp, email, and bank accounts, as CPJ documented at the time.

Separately, at around 6 a.m. on February 4, 2022, police visited the home of freelance Tamil journalist Punniyamoorthy Sasikaran in Batticaloa city and presented a court order banning an non-existent protest march, according to a report by Journalists for Democracy in Sri Lanka, a copy of the order, and the journalist, who spoke to CPJ by phone.

Police told his parents, who had opened the door, that the journalist could be arrested without providing further details, in what Sasikaran told CPJ he believed to be an intimidation tactic. Sasikaran also serves as treasurer of the Batticaloa District Tamil Journalists Association.

According to the copy of the order, which was issued by the Batticaloa magistrate court, police received “credible intelligence” that Tamil political parties and local organizations would hold a protest march opposing the celebration of the national Independence Day.

Sasikaran said that he told the police that no such protest would occur and asked why he was receiving the order, as he is a journalist. The officers said that the information was based on “credible intelligence,” and that the head of the Batticaloa police had requested the order, according to Sasikaran.

Previously, police visited Sasikaran’s home on February 1 and 2, 2021, and served him a court order restraining organizers from moving forward with a Tamil-led protest march, which he said he planned to cover as a reporter, as CPJ documented.

On August 23, 2021, officers from the Batticaloa police’s Special Crime Branch questioned Sasikaran and accused him of organizing a January 2021 ceremony that paid tribute to Indian fishermen who died in Sri Lanka waters, which he said he merely covered as a journalist, as CPJ documented at the time.

In January 2020, unidentified people circulated leaflets in Batticaloa that said Nilanthan, Sasikaran, and five other journalists would be “given death punishment” for writing critically about the Sri Lankan government, according to Journalists for Democracy in Sri Lanka. Nilanthan and Sasikaran told CPJ that police did not take steps to protect their safety, and failed to identify who was behind the threats.

Sri Lanka police spokesperson Nihal Thalduwa did not respond to CPJ’s request for comment sent via messaging app.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Committee to Protect Journalists.