Sri Lanka’s Unfinished Reconciliation Keeps Reviving the Past

For the past 17 years since the end of Sri Lanka’s civil war in May 2009, 18 May has never become a day of collective peace across the country. While one section of society, mainly the Sinhalese, commemorates military victory and the defeat of terrorism, Tamils remember the deaths of civilians, missing loved ones and the devastation witnessed during the final stages of the war in Mullivaikkal in northern Sri Lanka. This enduring divide exposes Sri Lanka’s failure to establish a meaningful reconciliation process, credible accountability mechanisms, or a genuine framework for transitional justice. Instead of healing wartime wounds, political actors across ethnic lines continue to polarise society for political survival and electoral advantage.

The latest controversy surrounding independent MP Archuna Ramanathan and his visit to Tamil Nadu shows how unresolved grievances continue to shape politics in Sri Lanka and beyond. A physician by profession, Archuna is known for his outspoken criticism of state failures and injustice. He has repeatedly generated political controversy and faced several legal cases. During his visit to Chennai to attend the 18 May remembrance event for Tamil war victims, the event gained attention because it marked one of the first instances of a sitting Sri Lankan parliamentarian openly criticising his own government on a Tamil Nadu platform. In his speech, Archuna accused successive Sri Lankan governments of discriminating against the Tamil community. In a recent parliamentary address, he also claimed that some islands in the Northern Province still lack electricity and remain neglected. He further made controversial remarks calling on India and Tamil Nadu to “take over” the Northern Province, statements likely to trigger strong political and diplomatic reactions. He also suggested that he may face arrest upon returning to Sri Lanka.

While remembrance itself is legitimate, political platforms surrounding such events in Tamil Nadu have often used the Sri Lankan Tamil issue as a tool for mobilisation. Archuna appeared to amplify attention to Tamil grievances, while Tamil Nadu politicians also used his presence to reinforce emotionally charged narratives across the Palk Strait. This also comes at a time when Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi has repeatedly emphasised the importance of power-sharing and reconciliation in Sri Lanka. Indian policymakers remain cautious, as instability among Sri Lankan Tamils often has political implications in Tamil Nadu. Political actors on both sides of the Palk Strait are aware of this sensitive link. Tamil Nadu politics has historically invoked issues such as Katchatheevu, the fishermen’s dispute and the Sri Lankan Tamil question to mobilise public sentiment. Actor-turned-politician Vijay has also spoken on fishermen’s rights, though he has generally avoided aggressive rhetoric on Sri Lanka. But the uncertainty prevails!

Courtesy: Amnesty International

For many Tamils, Mullivaikkal represents immense civilian suffering during the final phase of the civil war. The day is commemorated with kanji (porridge), a symbolic food associated with survival during the heavy shelling when civilians were often left with little else to consume. Today the Tamil diaspora worldwide has begun drinking kanji from a coconut shell, receiving world attention.

Allegations of shelling in civilian areas, enforced disappearances, extrajudicial killings and other wartime abuses remain unresolved and continue to be widely discussed within the Tamil diaspora and human rights circles. These unresolved issues are often cited as key obstacles to meaningful reconciliation in Sri Lanka. Images and videos from the war continue to shape public memory, including footage of captured LTTE media personnel, photographs allegedly showing the body of slain LTTE leader Velupillai Prabhakaran’s son Balachandran, and images of surrendering individuals later found dead. Long-standing concerns also persist about mass graves such as Chemmani, Mannar and Kurukkalmadam. These incidents have led to repeated calls for independent investigations by the United Nations, the UK, Canada, the United States and global human rights organisations.

However, successive Sri Lankan governments have largely responded with denial, resistance to international involvement, or domestic mechanisms that failed to gain public confidence. While approximately 12,000 former LTTE combatants were rehabilitated after the war, broader allegations of wartime accountability were never conclusively addressed through a credible process.

Sri Lanka’s history of violence is not limited to the North and East. The South also experienced large-scale killings, disappearances and political violence during the 1970s and 1980s, leaving thousands of families still searching for answers.

If the deaths and disappearances of members of the majority community are not properly investigated and acknowledged, it raises a broader question of how credible justice can be achieved for minority communities. This has led to growing calls for comprehensive, island-wide investigations and accountability mechanisms that treat all victims equally, regardless of ethnicity or region.

International concern often focuses on how state or institutional power is exercised, because actors controlling state structures have a greater ability to systematically affect rights and safety. This is why minority protection is often highlighted not as a hierarchy of suffering but as a response to structural vulnerability. This unresolved vacuum continues to fuel mistrust.

At the same time, many Sinhalese view allegations against the military as unfair, arguing that the armed forces defeated the LTTE after nearly three decades of violence against civilians and state institutions. They emphasise that soldiers fought a brutal conventional war against a heavily armed militant group responsible for suicide bombings, assassinations and child recruitment.

Both narratives exist in parallel, rarely intersecting in a meaningful national dialogue.

Every year in Jaffna on 18 May, families of victims continue to mourn publicly, often without closure or adequate psychological support. For many survivors, the war remains emotionally present despite its formal end. This continues to obstruct reconciliation.

Sri Lanka’s failure to institutionalise reconciliation remains deeply consequential

The 2022 economic crisis briefly demonstrated another possibility. Citizens across ethnic and religious lines united in protest demanding accountability, economic justice and political reform. For a moment, ethnic divisions appeared secondary to shared suffering. However, this unity was not transformed into lasting institutional change. The government missed that opportunity.

Sri Lanka has had earlier opportunities as well. Memorialisation events were eventually permitted following international pressure and UN advocacy, emphasising the right to remember the dead. But remembrance alone cannot sustain reconciliation. It must be supported by the four pillars of transitional justice: truth-seeking, justice, reparations and guarantees of non-recurrence. The government failed to establish it.
Without these, remembrance becomes politicised. Families of the disappeared continue to seek answers. Meanwhile, many southern communities increasingly view northern memorialisation with suspicion, interpreting it as political rather than humanitarian. This remains Sri Lanka’s central tragedy.
Former President Gotabaya Rajapaksa once acknowledged to this writer during an interview that the LTTE fought a conventional war and the military ‘did not play marbles’. He said Prabha was a conventional fighter and that he respects him for whatever ideology he stood for!

War ultimately brings destruction regardless of victory claims

Sri Lanka’s transitional justice framework remains weak. Institutions such as the Office on Missing Persons and the Office for Reparations exist but lack sufficient authority and public trust. Many Tamils reject domestic-only mechanisms, while nationalist groups oppose international involvement. This deadlock has frozen reconciliation.

As long as these issues remain unresolved, political actors like Archuna will continue to gain space by channelling anger, trauma and identity politics. Younger generations, who did not experience the war, risk inheriting polarised narratives rather than reconciliation. Sri Lanka has seen the consequences of division before, particularly under the “one language" policies of the 1950s, which deepened ethnic tensions and contributed to decades of conflict.

The country must now decide whether it will repeat those mistakes

Reconciliation does not mean forgetting terrorism or undermining the military. It means building a system where truth can be acknowledged, victims heard, institutions trusted and future conflict prevented. Sri Lanka cannot permanently suppress memory. Without justice and truth, the past will continue to return through politics, protests and polarisation.

Moreover, concerns raised by Tamil civil society and rights groups include alleged targeted attacks on Tamil journalists, continued use of the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA) for detention without charge and the role of state institutions in contested archaeological interpretations affecting historical narratives in Tamil-majority areas. Issues such as land acquisition and encroachment in parts of the North and East are also frequently cited in these discussions.

The war ended in 2009, but the reconciliation required to truly end it has yet to begin.
_____________________________________________________________________
The writer is an award-winning journalist and the Deputy Editor of Ceylon Today