Scholars examining the characteristics of suicide bombers tend to note that poverty-related variables cannot explain participation (that suicide bombers come from more educated and wealthy circumstances). On the other hand, scholars and practitioners often note that poverty reduction is essential to combatting terrorism (and support for suicide terrorism seems correlated with higher poverty). Much of the empirical work suffers from an over-reliance on the Palestinian case, possible sample-selection bias, and conflating populations with recruits and absolute poverty/low education vs. relative poverty and relative deprivation. Consequently, scholars have concluded that adverse socio-economic conditions and suicide terrorism are unrelated or even inversely related. The demographic qualities of suicide bombers challenge the link between poverty, poor education and violence. While the inverse relationship continues to find broad empirical support, many studies focused on a single case (the Palestinians). Using original data from field research in Sri Lanka this chapter raises critical issues and provides some preliminary empirical support for a link between lower levels of education and support for suicide terrorism. An operative might have different characteristics than the general population from which he/she is drawn. Future research should seek to identify more precise causal mechanisms between socio-economic conditions and suicide terrorism and all forms of political violence, while policies aimed to redress these conditions should continue as constructive elements of broader counter-terrorism strategies.

This chapter examines the engagement of women next of kin of forcibly disappeared individuals in Sri Lanka with the Consultation Task Force on Reconciliation Mechanisms (CTF). The CTF was tasked with consulting on the design of four transitional justice mechanisms in 2016, including an Office on Missing Persons. Even though the government refused to respect the findings of this process, the chapter shows that the CTF generated a significant archive that can be probed as an ‘archive of desire’. This archive can help us to understand not only the demands of victim-survivors in relation to what form of justice or what kind of mechanisms they believe can deliver justice, but also the depth of affective feelings and investments underlying these demands. In post-war Sri Lanka, this archive continues to challenge and resist dominant narratives of denial and efforts to entrench impunity for forced disappearances. However, such archives equally serve as a resource to build solidarity across differences, to cultivate practices of listening to the ‘Other’, and to refigure the state towards recognising and redressing its sovereign violence.

Although rarely acknowledged, Buddhist monastics are among the most active lawmakers and jurists in Asia, operating sophisticated networks of courts and constitutions while also navigating – and shaping – secular legal systems. This chapter surveys the entanglements of Buddhist monastic law and state law in Sri Lanka while also providing a general overview of Sri Lanka as a multi-religious, multi-legal site. It introduces readers to the key methods and arguments advanced in this book, including arguments about how and why one should analyse legal pluralism ‘as a practice.’

How is monastic law practised in modern-day Sri Lanka? How do contemporary monastic jurists reckon with multi-legality? This chapter draws on archival and ethnographic research with Sri Lanka’s third-largest monastic community, the Rāmañña Nikāya, to answer these questions and explore the operation of monastic law today. It introduces readers to the Rāmañña constitution, court system, judicial training materials, jurisprudential texts and other features of monastic legal practice. It argues that monastic judges practise legal pluralism in ways that both resist and embrace the parallels between monastic and state law, engaging in a form of ‘double speak’ that, on the one hand, places monastic law ‘on the scale’ of Sri Lankan law while, at the same time, highlighting its superior, more-than-human status.

How should scholars and policymakers think about legal pluralism? In this Conclusion, I reflect on that topic, insisting that analysts should move beyond the question of whether laws, themselves, are or are not compatible. Instead, they should look at the practices of legal pluralism that make such compatibility seem natural or permissible, exceptional or impossible. I argue that inter-legal harmony is not a technical feat, but a social, political, and emotional achievement – one that is often precarious. Legal pluralism, therefore, implicates more than just the ‘stuff’ of law, but involves the shifting and recursive processes that help us to assemble normative worlds, reckon with diverse obligations, and find meaningful pathways forward through a changing and complex life.

How did colonialism affect the content and practice of Buddhist monastic law? This chapter answers this question from the perspective of colonial legal sources, considering the ‘practices of legal pluralism’ employed by British officials starting in the early 1800s. Drawing on colonial correspondence, court decisions, draft laws, government transcripts, and newspaper reports, I explain how and why the British concretised legal concepts, such as ‘ecclesiastical succession’, ‘Buddhist temporalities’ and ‘temple lands’, while also generating new bodies of law: a body of civil-court case law governing monks called Buddhist Ecclesiastical Law; and an influential ordinance regulating the use and administration of ‘Buddhist properties’, called the Buddhist Temporalities Ordinance. I show how colonial jurists mapped Buddhism onto particular spaces, issues and communities, such that Buddhism acquired, in law, English-style qualities of jurisdiction across three dimensions: territorial jurisdiction, subject-matter jurisdiction, and personal jurisdiction.

Sri Lanka is the only Buddhist-majority country in the world without an official state-recognised monastic legal system. This is in spite of the fact that an entire section of the county’s constitution is dedicated to such a venture. How can one explain this? And why does Sri Lanka remain in this impasse? This chapter answers these questions by tracking a significant (and ongoing) series of attempts made by Sri Lanka’s leading intellectuals, educators, politicians, monks and legislators to ‘legalise’ monastic law (S: nītīgata kirīma) by creating some form of statute, tribunal or legal body that could blend monastic and state legal authority. Drawing on an un- and under-studied body of political and legal documents, it explains how a particular approach to legal pluralism – one motivated by a ‘purist’ approach to law – both motivated and sabotaged successive efforts to formally recognise monastic courts and constitutions in state law.

What is Buddhist monastic law? How should one think about its key texts, institutions and principles? This chapter answers these questions in the context of Sri Lanka and other parts of South and Southeast Asia, focusing especially on ideas of unity and diversity in law. The first part of this chapter summarises key ideas and principles found in the ancient code of monastic law, the Vinaya Piṭaka, which is thought to be the cornerstone of monastic legal texts and practices. The second (longer) part of this chapter introduces readers to a range of monastic legal sources outside the Vinaya Piṭaka, which also play key roles in the practice of monastic law in contemporary Sri Lanka. These sources include commentaries, constitutions, handbooks, judicial manuals, statutes, case law, social expectations and other normative sources produced by monks, state officials and Buddhist laypersons.

Why do similar conditions of legal pluralism lead to conflict in one setting and compromise in another? This chapter addresses this question by approaching legal pluralism not as an empirical condition – a multiplicity of legal orders that individuals navigate – but as a set of practices that bring order, structure and meaning to the obligations, codes and norms that one confronts. Drawing on three relatively recent case studies, this chapter demonstrates how the same set of normative artefacts – the same texts, norms, institutions, and authorities – can be assembled, interpreted, and mobilised in profoundly divergent and even agonistic ways. The first case study involves a monk’s attempt to gain a driving license. The second involves the issuing of identity cards for Buddhist nuns (bhikkhunīs). The third relates to a parliamentary bill designed to recognise monastic constitutions (katikāvatas) in law.

How does the encounter between monastic law and colonial law look from the perspective of Buddhist monastics? The chapter offers an alternative legal history of the nineteenth century, drawing on a largely unstudied archive of Sinhala- and Pali-language legal sources written by Buddhist monks. Using these sources, I highlight the creativity and productivity of Buddhist monastic lawmaking during the nineteenth century. A close analysis of monastic legal texts from this period also reveals key differences in the ways that monastic jurists understood and enacted legal pluralism when compared with colonial officials. Rather than treating the laws of the Buddha and the laws of the Crown as conflicting, as the British tended to do, monastic jurists purposefully aligned them. Rather than hardening legal boundaries between monastic and colonial regulation, monastic jurists pushed in the direction of integration, borrowing and exchange between local and imported laws.

This chapter approaches the concept of transparency by examining the work of secrecy and occlusion in trade. Exploring the role of secrets in the Indian Ocean sapphire trade, where exchange is based on arbitrage, it seeks to understand Sri Lankan and South Indian gem traders’ emic notions of what it means to conceal and reveal knowledge and to tease out their conceptions of ethical conduct in relation to secrecy. It asks: How do we conceptualize transparency in relation to a trade where practices of concealment and disclosure are folded into the gestural, embodied, and affective landscapes that make up everyday modalities of negotiation, brokerage, and arbitrage? How do such forms of withholding contribute to making gems move? What are the ethical landscapes within which certain forms of secrecy are permissible and expected? Reading trading secrets as a part of the craft of trade, the chapter seeks to reframe the assumption that a lack of transparency amounts to deception and examines instead how practices of occlusion facilitate trade.