In any democratic country, a constitution is more than a book of laws. It is the supreme social contract between the rulers and the ruled. Yet Sri Lanka’s political history presents a markedly different and troubling reality: the Constitution has repeatedly been used less as an instrument of public welfare than as a means of consolidating political power and advancing the narrow agendas of those in government.
The current controversy over efforts to amend the retirement age of judges therefore raises a question that reaches beyond the immediate proposal. Is it simply another chapter in a long history of constitutional change driven by political calculations? The final judgement, ultimately, belongs to the people, who hold sovereignty.
To understand the significance of the present moment, it is necessary to look back at the country’s history of constitutional amendments.
Sri Lanka’s constitutional history stretches from the Colebrooke-Cameron reforms through the Donoughmore and Soulbury constitutions. Following independence in 1948, the Westminster-style Soulbury Constitution remained in force until the first Republican Constitution was adopted in 1972. That Constitution severed Sri Lanka’s remaining constitutional relationship with the British Crown.
The Senate was abolished and supreme authority was vested in the National State Assembly, while the Prime Minister became the most powerful figure in the executive. Yet the failure to adequately address minority rights and the language question helped lay the foundations for a series of future crises.
The political transformation became far more dramatic after the 1977 general election, when J. R. Jayewardene won 140 of the 168 parliamentary seats, securing an overwhelming five-sixths (5/6) majority. In 1978, his second Republican Constitution fundamentally altered the structure of the state by establishing an executive presidency endowed with extensive powers. The President became Head of State, Head of Government and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces.
The Constitution contained 24 chapters and 172 articles. It introduced proportional representation, the referendum and fundamental rights enforceable through the courts. Yet over the following four and a half decades, governments would amend it 21 times, repeatedly altering its provisions according to changing political circumstances.
The pattern was established early. All of the first 16 amendments were introduced during the first decade of J. R. Jayewardene’s administration, illustrating how quickly constitutional provisions could become instruments of political strategy.
The First Amendment, introduced in 1978, sought to remove the legal relief obtained by former Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike from the Court of Appeal in relation to the process of depriving her of her civic rights. The Second Amendment, introduced in 1979, created a legal opportunity for opposition MPs to cross over to the governing party, further exposing the vulnerability of democratic representation to political manoeuvring.
The Third and Fourth Amendments became among the darkest turning points in Sri Lanka’s democratic history. The Third Amendment changed the law to allow a President to seek another mandate and call a presidential election after completing four years of the first term. The objective was to take advantage of the opposition’s difficulties and secure power again with relative ease.
The Fourth Amendment, introduced in 1982, was even more consequential. Through a referendum, the parliamentary term was extended by another six years, preventing the government from losing its five-sixths majority under the proportional representation system. The denial of voters’ democratic rights through this process became a major source of political tension and contributed to the youth uprisings in the South and subsequent political instability.
The Fifth Amendment continued the pattern. Instead of allowing the party secretary to nominate replacements for vacant parliamentary seats, it introduced provisions for by-elections. This too became part of the wider effort to preserve political advantage following the referendum.
Then came the violence of the early 1980s. Following the notorious Black July riots, the Sixth Amendment was introduced in 1983, requiring all MPs to swear that they did not recognise separatism. Its practical consequence was that MPs of the Tamil United Liberation Front (TULF), the sole democratic representatives of the Tamil people in the North and East, were forced to leave Parliament. This, in turn, pushed Tamil youth further towards armed struggle.
From the Seventh to the Eleventh Amendments, changes were largely administrative and judicial, including the creation of the Kilinochchi District and the appointment of President’s Counsel. The Thirteenth Amendment, introduced in 1987, was a decisive development. It emerged as a direct consequence of the Indo-Lanka Peace Accord and under Indian influence rather than from an internal national demand. It established the provincial council system and gave official-language status to Tamil. Yet it faced violence from the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna in the South and rejection by the LTTE in the North.
The Fourteenth Amendment subsequently fixed the number of MPs at 225 and formalised the preferential voting system. The Fifteenth and Sixteenth Amendments, introduced as R. Premadasa prepared to contest the presidential election, were likewise portrayed as political manoeuvres. The minimum percentage of votes required by a party under proportional representation was sharply reduced from 12.5% to 5%, enabling smaller parties such as the Muslim Congress and the Ceylon Workers’ Congress to become important sources of political support.
The period from the Seventeenth to the Twenty-First Amendments brought another cycle between institutional independence and executive power. In 2001, when Chandrika Kumaratunga’s government faced a crisis after losing its majority, the Seventeenth Amendment was introduced with the JVP’s support. It established a Constitutional Council and independent commissions. Yet the executive subsequently weakened the system by failing to make the necessary appointments.
In 2010, Mahinda Rajapaksa introduced the Eighteenth Amendment. It removed the constitutional limit of two presidential terms, creating the legal conditions for a President to remain in power indefinitely and bringing state institutions further under executive control.
The Nineteenth Amendment, introduced by the Yahapalana government, reversed these authoritarian features. But the two centres of power created under the new arrangement were followed by a failure of national security sufficient to prevent the 2019 Easter Sunday terrorist attacks.
In 2020, Gotabaya Rajapaksa introduced the Twentieth Amendment, again expanding executive power. The removal of the prohibition on dual citizens becoming MPs was directed entirely at Basil Rajapaksa, while expanded executive authority enabled decisions such as the chemical fertiliser ban and tax cuts that deprived the state of revenue and pushed the country into a severe economic abyss.
After the economic crisis of 2022, the Twenty-First Amendment was adopted amid conditions shaped by the International Monetary Fund (IMF), including its emphasis on governance. With IMF assistance, Sri Lanka subsequently achieved a degree of macroeconomic stability, while checks and balances were strengthened again. Yet the amendment too produced mixed results.
The proposed Twenty-Second Amendment now enters this long and contentious history. Whatever political changes have taken place over the decades, the historical record suggests that the struggle over constitutional power has never disappeared. The proposal has itself been criticised as a political strategy, making it another test of whether constitutional reform is being undertaken primarily for institutional necessity or political advantage.
For citizens seeking to understand the real purpose of any constitutional amendment, the question is not necessarily obscure. The political, economic and social priorities of the government at the time provide an essential context. Citizens must ask whether an amendment is connected to the government’s immediate political requirements, strategic calculations or desire to shape public opinion to its advantage.
There is another, larger question. Since the 1990s, Sri Lanka has repeatedly discussed abolishing the 1978 Constitution altogether and replacing it with a new constitution suited to the country. More than three decades later, that ambition remains largely confined to election platforms and political promises.
Since 1978, 21 amendments have been introduced. The central challenge is therefore no longer simply whether another amendment should be made, but whether a constitutional order repeatedly altered according to the interests of those in power can provide the durable framework a democracy requires.
Sri Lanka’s four-and-a-half-decade experience points towards the need for a new constitutional framework that limits the arbitrary power of the executive, protects independent institutions and safeguards the independence of the judiciary. The question now confronting the public is whether the latest proposed change represents another temporary adjustment to the existing structure—or another step in the unresolved struggle over who the Constitution ultimately serves.
