Eleven years after the Treasury bond auction of 27 February 2015, Sri Lanka still cannot answer a basic question: was there a crime — or merely a controversy?

The Presidential Commission of Inquiry found that privileged information was used. It quantified gains. It recommended recovery. It named individuals. Politically, the scandal was seismic. Legally, it remains unresolved.

Now, as debate resurfaces, a familiar defence argument re-emerges: that no loss was caused to the State. In fact, it is said, the Employees’ Provident Fund and other public institutions earned higher interest because the bonds were issued at elevated yields. Therefore, where is the damage?

On the surface, it sounds persuasive. Higher interest means higher returns. If state-controlled funds earned more, how can there be loss?

But that framing oversimplifies what is at stake.

The Treasury is the borrower. The EPF is the investor. If a bond is issued at a higher interest rate than market fundamentals justified, the Government pays more over time. That additional cost is borne by taxpayers. While EPF may record higher returns on paper, the consolidated State balance sheet does not magically neutralise the distortion.

More importantly, the legal question is not solely about arithmetic.

The core allegation was not simply that yields rose. It was that privileged information — allegedly unavailable to other market participants — influenced bidding behaviour in a sovereign debt auction. If such information was used improperly to secure advantage, the issue is not just financial impact but abuse of entrusted power.

Here lies the difficulty.

In 2015, Sri Lanka did not have a neatly packaged insider trading offence tailored to primary government bond auctions. The Securities framework primarily addressed listed equities. Prosecutors therefore had to rely on other provisions — criminal breach of trust, corruption statutes, conspiracy, abuse of public office. Those require precise proof of intent and causation.

Improper conduct is not automatically criminal conduct.

To secure conviction, the Attorney General must show beyond reasonable doubt that privileged information was knowingly misused, that such misuse caused distortion, and that unlawful gain flowed from that distortion. That is a demanding standard — particularly in complex financial markets where auction mechanisms, yield curves and regulatory discretion intersect.

The defence would argue: the Central Bank accepted the bids. The rules permitted discretion. Market participants act competitively. There was no explicit statutory prohibition governing the precise conduct at the time. Higher yields benefited state funds. Where, then, is criminality?

The prosecution must answer differently: that market integrity was compromised; that trust in sovereign debt issuance was undermined; that the use of confidential information for private gain — if proven — constitutes breach of fiduciary duty and criminal abuse of office.

This is not a courtroom yet. It is a nation asking why the case has not concluded.

Successive governments promised resolution. The current President, elected on an anti-corruption platform, assured the public that those responsible would be pursued. Eleven years on, the legal machinery appears stalled.

Financial crimes are difficult. They are document-heavy, expert-driven, and procedurally slow. But delay cannot be infinite. When a Commission quantifies gains running into billions and recommends recovery, the public expects movement.

If the conduct was merely regulatory weakness, say so clearly. If the evidentiary threshold for criminal conviction cannot be met, explain why. If recovery is legally constrained, disclose the constraints.

What cannot continue is ambiguity.

The Bond issue was never just about interest rates. It was about whether power entrusted to manage the nation’s borrowing was exercised with integrity. If that integrity was breached, the law must say so. If it was not, the law must also say so.

Profit versus loss is an accounting debate. Power versus accountability is a constitutional one. Eleven years is long enough for the arithmetic to be settled.

What remains unsettled is the principle.