Chemmani Mass Grave and Tamil Genocide: Evidence Manipulation, CID’s Role, and the Quest for Justice
Chemmani Mass Grave and Tamil Genocide: Evidence Manipulation, CID’s Role, and the Quest for Justice
Historical Context: Alleged Genocide of Tamils (1981–2009)
The Chemmani grave is part of a longer tragic history in Sri Lanka, where Tamils have faced violence widely described as an alleged genocide from the early 1980s through the end of the civil war in 2009. In May 1981, Sri Lankan security forces and state-sponsored mobs burned down the Jaffna Public Library, a treasured repository of Tamil literature and heritage. This cultural destruction – obliterating nearly 95,000 rare books and manuscripts – is remembered by Tamils as an act of genocidal intent. Two years later, in July 1983, anti-Tamil pogroms known as "Black July" erupted. Armed with voter registration lists, Sinhala mobs (with tacit backing from elements of the government and security forces) went on a rampage, massacring over 3,000 Tamils and burning Tamil homes and businesses. Eyewitnesses reported that police and soldiers stood by or even participated as Tamils were hunted down; one foreign observer described the carnage, saying “women, children and old people were slaughtered… Police and soldiers did nothing to stop this genocide.”. Black July’s state-engineered violence decimated Tamil communities in the capital and sent shockwaves that fueled the armed conflict.
Throughout the 26-year civil war (1983–2009), the Tamil population endured systematic atrocities. These included indiscriminate bombardments, massacres of civilians, torture, sexual violence, and enforced disappearances on a massive scale. For instance, in 1996, after the Sri Lankan Army captured Jaffna, hundreds of Tamil civilians vanished in army custody. Human rights groups collected “reliable evidence” that up to 600 people disappeared in Jaffna in 1996, with their bodies rumored to be dumped in wells and shallow graves. The Chemmani gravesite itself first came to light because of these disappearances, as detailed later. Brutality escalated sharply in the war’s final chapter. In 2009, as government forces crushed the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), tens of thousands of Tamil civilians were killed in the fighting. The Tamil community alleges that nearly 170,000 people were killed in the final months of the war, while United Nations estimates put the toll at about 40,000. Many victims died in supposed no-fire zones that were shelled, or after surrendering. To this day, over 60,000 people remain missing from the conflict period, one of the highest numbers of enforced disappearances in the world. From the burning of the Jaffna Library to Black July to the Mullivaikkal massacre of 2009, Tamils see a deliberate pattern of targeted violence. The main Tamil political party has bluntly called these cumulative atrocities “a genocidal campaign against Tamils”. This historical context frames why uncovering mass graves like Chemmani is so significant: each grave is evidence of these past crimes and a test of Sri Lanka’s willingness to confront its darkest chapters.
The Chemmani Mass Grave Case: Background and Initial Investigation
Chemmani is a village on the outskirts of Jaffna that gained infamy in the late 1990s when allegations emerged of a secret mass burial ground for murdered Tamil civilians. The case is intertwined with the Krishanthi Kumaraswamy incident of 1996, a landmark crime that first cracked open the military’s impunity. Krishanthi, an 18-year-old Tamil schoolgirl, was gang-raped and murdered by Sri Lankan Army personnel at a Chemmani checkpoint on September 7, 1996. Her mother Rasamma, 16-year-old brother Pranavan, and a family friend who went searching for her were also abducted and killed by the soldiers; all four bodies were hastily buried in shallow graves at Chemmani. The outrage over this atrocity led to the rare prosecution of several low-ranking soldiers. In July 1998, five soldiers were convicted and sentenced to death for the rape and murders. At the sentencing, however, the case took a shocking turn. Lance Corporal Somaratne Rajapakse, one of the convicted soldiers, stood up in court and made an explosive confession: “We are being sent to the gallows for killing four people, but I can show you hundreds of bodies that have been killed and buried in Chemmani.”. He claimed that “300 to 400 bodies” of missing Tamils from the 1995–96 period were buried at multiple sites in the Chemmani area. Rajapakse insisted he personally “didn’t kill anyone, only buried bodies”, implicating numerous other Army officers by name in a campaign of abductions, torture, rape, and murder of Tamil civilians in Jaffna. His detailed testimony described how soldiers rounded up Tamil youths, tortured and executed them, and brought truckloads of corpses to Chemmani for secret burial, including entire families and even a husband and wife who were raped and killed by an officer. This whistleblower account corroborated long-suspected patterns of enforced disappearances in Jaffna, lending credence to what Tamil families had been alleging for years.
Rajapakse’s bombshell allegations sparked an outcry and forced the Sri Lankan authorities to respond. Under intense local and international pressure, a court-ordered investigation began in 1999 to locate the Chemmani mass graves. In June 1999, Rajapakse was flown under guard to Jaffna and taken to Chemmani to pinpoint the burial sites he knew. Several of his co-prisoners (other convicted soldiers) also provided information on grave locations. Excavations commenced in the presence of international observers, including forensic experts and Amnesty International representatives, to ensure some transparency. Even so, only a limited excavation was authorized initially – reportedly, officials on site claimed they had resources to exhume “only four skeletal remains” at first. Digging began at identified spots in mid-June 1999. Within days, the team uncovered unmistakable evidence of clandestine burials: human bones just two feet below the surface, some skeletons blindfolded and bound with cloth, indicating the victims had been executed. The smell of decay and shallow depth of the graves suggested hurried mass burials. Over the ensuing weeks, the remains of 15 bodies were exhumed from multiple pits in Chemmani. Forensic analysis confirmed that at least 10 of the skeletons showed clear signs of torture or murder, consistent with violent deaths. Two of the bodies were positively identified (via forensic examination and later DNA testing) as young Tamil men who had been arrested by the army in 1996 and never seen again. This gave heart to families of the disappeared that the graves might finally reveal the fate of their loved ones. Indeed, the unearthed skeletons vindicated Rajapakse’s testimony and proved that enforced disappearances in Jaffna had ended in extrajudicial killings.
However, after this initial phase, the Chemmani investigation stalled abruptly. By December 1999 – just a few months after the graves were opened – Sri Lankan authorities announced that no further graves existed beyond the ones already excavated, effectively declaring the case closed. This announcement was stunning and premature, given that Rajapakse had identified around 10 different grave sites and multiple witnesses had indicated many more bodies remained buried. Nonetheless, the government’s position was that experts found “no such graves as originally alleged,” downplaying Rajapakse’s claim of hundreds of victims. After exhuming just 15 bodies (a fraction of the alleged 300+), the investigation was halted. A handful of Army personnel were named in connection with the Chemmani evidence – arrest warrants were issued in early 2000 for seven soldiers – but these suspects were promptly released on bail, and no senior officers were ever charged. As Sri Lanka’s civil war flared up again in the early 2000s, Chemmani faded from headlines and the pursuit of truth was largely abandoned. For Tamil families, the site remained a painful question mark, emblematic of “unresolved injustices” and the state’s reluctance to admit the full extent of crimes committed in the north. The Chemmani mass grave thus became an open wound, its secrets largely left buried as the country turned its attention back to wartime exigencies.
More than two decades later, Chemmani was thrust back into focus when new skeletal remains were unearthed at the site in 2025. In February 2025, construction workers digging at a public cemetery in Chemmani (near the original graves) uncovered human bones purely by accident. This prompted a Jaffna Magistrate to order a fresh excavation under court supervision. By mid-2025, investigators – led by Professor Raj Somadeva, a forensic archaeologist – had exhumed dozens of additional skeletons from Chemmani, including infants and children with personal items like a little girl’s blue schoolbag and doll. In total, around 65 human remains were found by July 2025 once digging resumed fully. The disturbing presence of children’s bones underscored that even toddlers were not spared from the violence. The court-supervised dig formally confirmed the site as a mass grave and recovered evidence (clothing, ID tags, etc.) now held in custody for analysis. Importantly, less than half of the suspected burial area has been excavated so far, and at least one more probable gravesite nearby has been identified via drone and satellite imagery. The ongoing investigation in 2025 represents a second chance to uncover the full truth of Chemmani. Yet it also raises urgent questions about evidence preservation and whether this time justice will be served – or whether history will repeat itself with another partial, inconclusive probe. The sections below delve into the key concerns and risks, particularly the potential for evidence manipulation and the role of the CID, and what they imply for accountability.
Evidence Manipulation Concerns in the Chemmani Investigation
From the start, observers have worried that the Chemmani mass grave inquiry could be undermined by evidence tampering, mishandling, or deliberate cover-ups. These fears are grounded in Sri Lanka’s past track record with mass grave investigations – many of which have been marred by obfuscation and interference – as well as red flags specific to the Chemmani case.
One major concern is that authorities might destroy or alter evidence to minimize the number of victims or conceal perpetrators’ identities. Notably, when Rajapakse’s revelations became public in mid-1998, the government took ten months before beginning exhumations. Human rights advocates cautioned that this delay gave ample time for those involved to clean up the site or relocate remains, raising suspicion that the 1999 dig was “purely a publicity stunt” to placate critics. Indeed, the limited scope of the initial excavation – stopping after 15 bodies despite credible leads of many more – suggests an intent to contain the findings rather than fully expose them. By abruptly declaring no further graves existed, officials effectively froze the fact-finding, thereby preventing potentially hundreds of additional bodies from ever being recovered. This abrupt shutdown is viewed by Tamil families as a form of cover-up, given the weight of testimony about numerous other sites. As the years passed, no systematic effort was made to preserve Chemmani as a crime scene; it remained an open area, susceptible to weather erosion or tampering. Thus when digging finally resumed in 2025, evidence could have been lost or degraded.
During the 2025 excavations, Tamil human rights activists grew alarmed at certain procedural gaps that could enable evidence manipulation. All exhumed skeletons and artifacts were being held by the Government’s Judicial Medical Officer (JMO) in Jaffna – a representative of the Sri Lankan state. Advocates noted that without independent oversight, chain-of-custody weaknesses could allow quiet removal or alteration of remains. Justice C.V. Wigneswaran, a retired Supreme Court judge, pointed out that clear documentation of who handles the bones from the pit to the lab is essential; “if the chain of custody is broken, forensic results will be legally weakened,” he warned. Activists voiced concerns that keeping the evidence solely under local authorities’ control creates opportunities for tampering or even destruction of skeletons before proper analysis. Given Sri Lanka’s history, such fears are not fanciful. A recent joint report by several rights groups documented how in past exhumations, political interference was rampant: magistrates and forensic experts were abruptly transferred off cases, police delayed executing court orders, and officials often failed to collect witness testimony or ante-mortem data for identifications. The report even noted instances of authorities actively tampering with evidence with no accountability. With this pattern in mind, families worry Chemmani could follow the same playbook if left solely to domestic authorities.
Specific signs of potential evidence manipulation have already emerged. In the past, when other mass graves were excavated (such as the large 2018 Mannar mass grave where 346 skeletons were found), analysis was mysteriously delayed for years – undermining the investigation. In Mannar’s case, the lead archaeologist Prof. Somadeva disclosed that he received critical artefacts “three years after” his initial request, and was never given a budget or payment for his forensic work. “Nobody takes responsibility,” he said, describing the government’s Office on Missing Persons (OMP) as a useless “white elephant.” Such bureaucratic obstruction effectively stalls progress and can cause deterioration or loss of evidence (for example, bones left unanalyzed in storage). In Chemmani 1999, authorities similarly never followed up with comprehensive forensic analyses after the first 15 bodies; by 2006, police still claimed “no instructions” to proceed further. In other cases, officials have mischaracterized findings to dampen their impact. After Chemmani’s initial exhumation, the government announced that experts found no additional graves “as originally alleged”, an assertion many found dubious. This narrative minimization is another form of evidence manipulation – framing the evidence in a misleading way to avoid accountability.
Another form of tampering is simply neglecting proper forensic procedure, which can be just as damaging to truth-finding. In the current Chemmani excavation, families observed a troubling lack of advanced forensic expertise and resources on the ground. While local officers and archaeologists are working carefully, international standards for mass grave exhumation are extremely high: they require systematic recovery, anthropological analysis, DNA sampling, and meticulous cataloguing of remains. The Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) has noted “insufficient financial, human and technical resources to conduct exhumations in line with international standards” in Sri Lanka. Without these, critical evidence (like small bone fragments, personal effects, or signs of trauma on bones) could be missed or destroyed inadvertently. No DNA collection from families has been initiated yet in Chemmani – meaning even if remains are recovered, they may never be identified, a heartbreaking outcome that robs families of closure. Activists warn that without independent forensic specialists, subtle but important data (such as tool marks on bones indicating execution methods) might never be properly documented. This dearth of expertise essentially handicaps the investigation and could be viewed as state negligence, if not willful, given offers by foreign experts to assist.
Tamil civil society groups and victims’ families have responded to these risks by demanding robust safeguards against evidence manipulation. They have insisted on international forensic participation at every step, precisely to deter any tampering and to lend credibility. Their appeals echo a recommendation by the Adayaalam Centre for Policy Research (a Jaffna-based think tank), which stated that in Chemmani “the same defects that plagued previous exhumations persist” and that the process is happening “without international observation or expertise.” Adayaalam and others assert that to assure Tamils of a genuine effort, the government must immediately allow international experts, ensure transparent procedures, and involve victims’ families in the chain of custody. In practical terms, activists call for independent forensic teams (from abroad or the UN) to take charge of evidence collection and analysis, rather than solely local officials. They also emphasize the site should be treated as a protected crime scene – guarded not just by local police but monitored by neutral observers – to prevent any nocturnal removals of remains or other meddling. Community volunteers have even helped watch over the Chemmani site alongside police, to ensure its integrity.
In summary, evidence manipulation is a central fear surrounding the Chemmani mass grave case. The history of foot-dragging and cover-ups in 1999, combined with indications of ongoing shortcomings in 2025, suggest these fears are well-founded. Without strict oversight, there is a risk that the true scale of the Chemmani killings could yet again be downplayed – either by failing to excavate all graves, by “losing” critical evidence, or by procedural flaws that render the evidence legally inadmissible. Such outcomes would perpetuate impunity. The next section examines the related issue of the CID’s role, as the agency nominally responsible for investigating cases like Chemmani, but whose effectiveness is intertwined with the potential for interference.
Role of the Criminal Investigation Department (CID) in the Chemmani Case
The Criminal Investigation Department (CID) – Sri Lanka’s elite police investigative division – was tasked with handling the Chemmani mass grave inquiry. How the CID conducted (or failed to conduct) this investigation is a point of contention, reflecting the challenges of pursuing justice when state forces themselves are implicated. In theory, the CID’s role was to uncover the truth and build criminal cases; in practice, the CID’s efforts were constrained by political will, institutional limitations, and alleged bias, leading to a faltering pursuit of accountability.
During the initial Chemmani probe in 1998–1999, the CID did take some steps under judicial orders. CID officers accompanied state counsel Prashanthi Mahindaratne to Jaffna during the Krishanthi Kumaraswamy murder trial and helped gather evidence that convicted the perpetrators. After Rajapakse’s mass grave revelations, CID investigators were involved in the supervised exhumations of 1999. They worked alongside judicial medical officers and forensic experts to recover the 15 bodies, and their findings contributed to issuing arrest warrants for several soldiers in 2000. This indicates that at least at the outset, the CID did what it could to act on the evidence unearthed at Chemmani. International observers present in 1999 even commented that they were “pleased with the investigation” process up to that point. However, the CID’s momentum quickly hit a wall. According to official reports, by 2004 the Chemmani case was still “pending” with no one prosecuted, and by **January 2006 – fully six years after the exhumation – the CID told the Colombo Magistrate’s Court that they were “awaiting instructions from the Attorney General” to proceed further. The magistrate berated this delay as “unacceptable,” yet no indictments had been filed in all that time. Essentially, the CID claimed its hands were tied: without the Attorney General’s approval to charge suspects, the police had paused the investigation indefinitely.
This scenario highlights a systemic issue: the CID, as part of the law enforcement apparatus, ultimately answers to the state hierarchy. In cases like Chemmani, where the suspected perpetrators are fellow security forces members, the CID’s autonomy is limited. The Asian Human Rights Commission bluntly noted that Sri Lanka’s Attorney General’s department has a pattern of slow-walking or dropping cases “when senior military or police officers… may be implicated.”. In Chemmani’s case, the lack of follow-through after the initial discoveries strongly suggests that higher authorities discouraged further action. Although lower-level soldiers were initially arrested, no high-ranking officers were ever even named or questioned, despite Rajapakse’s testimony pointing to captains and majors who ordered the killings. A BBC analysis in late 1999 presciently observed that it “seems unlikely that any high-ranking military personnel will be prosecuted” in the Chemmani affair. That indeed came to pass. The CID did not dig deeper (literally or figuratively) into the chain of command responsibility for the murders. Families of victims perceive the CID as having been complicit in a cover-up, or at least ineffective due to political interference. Their mistrust is fueled by episodes like the suspects’ escape: at one point during the Krishanthi trial, the accused soldiers (trained military men) actually broke out of prison and fled, though most were recaptured. The ease of this escape raised eyebrows about collusion, although not proven. Furthermore, some of the convicted perpetrators in that case were later given presidential pardons or sentence commutations, a fate common in Sri Lanka that undermines the CID’s work and the court’s verdicts.
Crucially, the CID’s credibility among Tamil survivors is very low. Decades of biased or aborted inquiries have led families to see domestic investigative agencies as part of the problem. As one association of the disappeared put it, “If you ask the killers to give you justice, will they?” – a damning statement reflecting the view that Sri Lanka’s police and military apparatus cannot be expected to honestly investigate itself. There is a “long standing mistrust in domestic state institutions” like the CID and the OMP, rooted in their failure to deliver answers in past cases. For example, the OMP (established in 2017 to trace missing persons) has been largely toothless; even the CID’s information is not fully shared with families. In Chemmani 2025, the OMP has only shown up as an “observer” and did not proactively assist, prompting victims to dismiss it as ineffectual. Meanwhile, CID officers guard the excavation site, but their presence is double-edged: they provide security, yet families feel the need to also be present and “help the police” watch the site to ensure nothing is hidden. This speaks volumes about trust deficits.
The limitations of the CID’s role become apparent in the legal bottlenecks. The department did gather extensive evidence – forensic reports, eyewitness statements, etc. – and by 2000 had enough to seek charges against at least seven personnel. But when the Attorney General’s office chose to sit on those files indefinitely, the CID did not have the mandate or clout to push further. An independent commission later criticized the Attorney General’s office for blocking progress, noting that in Chemmani “six years after exhumation… no indictments [have been] filed” and no reasons given for the inaction. This “raises radical concerns regarding accountability” within the justice system, the commission said. In other words, the CID’s effort was nullified by prosecutorial/political paralysis. Sri Lanka’s legal framework concentrates prosecutorial authority in the Attorney General (a political appointee), meaning the CID cannot by itself bring a case to trial. This dependency allowed the Chemmani case to be quietly buried in legal limbo.
All these factors contribute to the view that the CID, while formally responsible for investigating crimes like Chemmani, was either unable or unwilling to pursue the case vigorously. Some observers suggest individual CID investigators may have faced intimidation or orders from superiors to back off sensitive inquiries. Others point to a more systemic issue – that the “rule of law” fails when the suspects are state agents, creating an unwritten impunity. The Asian Human Rights Commission concluded that in Sri Lanka the law enforcement and prosecutorial authorities often “sanction impunity” for perpetrators by inaction, especially when high-level officials are involved. This has eroded public confidence in agencies like the CID. It is telling that Tamil families are now calling for a UN-supervised investigation of Chemmani precisely because they do not trust the CID or local system to see it through.
In the current renewed investigation, the CID’s role remains important but closely watched. They are participating under court orders to exhumate and secure evidence. However, activists insist on independent monitors and international experts alongside the CID to ensure impartiality. Essentially, the CID is being asked to cooperate and facilitate rather than control the process. Given past lapses, this shared approach might be the only way to overcome skepticism. If the CID fully embraces transparency and works with international actors, it could help rehabilitate its image. If, on the other hand, it reverts to the pattern of delay or secrecy, the Chemmani case is likely to “meet the same fate as in 1999 – a dead end”. For true justice, the CID must prove it can break the habit of protecting its own and instead serve the victims. The next section will discuss how Chemmani’s handling reflects on the broader questions of justice and accountability in post-war Sri Lanka.
Broader Implications for Justice and Accountability
The saga of the Chemmani mass grave encapsulates larger problems in Sri Lanka’s approach to post-war justice. How this case is handled sends a message about the country’s willingness to confront wartime atrocities, hold perpetrators accountable, and deliver truth to victims. So far, the message has been discouraging: Chemmani has become a symbol of impunity, illustrating how even well-documented war crimes can go unpunished. The broader implications touch on rule of law, reconciliation, and Sri Lanka’s international obligations.
One key implication is the entrenchment of impunity for security forces. Despite clear evidence that dozens (potentially hundreds) of civilians were extrajudicially killed and buried in Chemmani, not a single person has been convicted for those murders to date. The initial convictions in the Krishanthi rape/murder covered only that specific crime. For the wider Chemmani disappearances, the case remains unsolved nearly 25 years later. As of 2006, the Attorney General had yet to file indictments for the Chemmani killings, effectively stonewalling justice. This failure is part of a pattern. Sri Lanka has seen numerous commissions and inquiries into human rights abuses – from the disappearance of 48 schoolboys in Embilipitiya in 1989, to the Bindunuwewa massacre of Tamil detainees in 2000 – but senior officials responsible were seldom charged, often escaping on claims of insufficient evidence or being left out entirely. The outcome is a “climate of impunity”, as Rajapakse’s brief hope-giving testimony ultimately illuminated. When the state chooses to ignore or cover up evidence rather than pursue it, perpetrators learn that they will not be held accountable. This impunity is corrosive: it signals to the security sector that abuses can be committed without consequences, undermining any deterrence for future crimes. It also deepens the trauma for victims’ families, who see justice denied repeatedly.
Another implication is the erosion of trust in domestic institutions. The Tamil community’s faith in Sri Lanka’s justice system is at an abysmal low after years of unkept promises. For instance, during the brief reformist Yahapalanaya government (2015-2019), Colombo co-sponsored a UN Human Rights Council resolution (30/1) pledging truth and reconciliation measures, including a special court. The Office on Missing Persons (OMP) was established as part of this process. Yet the OMP has not resolved a single disappearance case in the North–East to the satisfaction of families. Even the former state counsel Mahindaratne (who prosecuted Krishanthi’s case) admits that the OMP “could certainly find out what happened,” since the military keeps extensive records – but it hasn’t done so. Subsequent governments pulled back from the UN resolution, and some went into denial mode about war crimes. The current handling of Chemmani by the new administration has been muted and non-committal. This perpetuates the sense that justice is not forthcoming internally. As a result, many Tamils now see international intervention as the only hope. The calls for UN involvement in the Chemmani excavation, for international forensic experts, and even for the International Criminal Court (ICC) to be engaged, all stem from the conviction that Sri Lanka’s institutions will otherwise maintain the status quo of impunity.
Chemmani also raises the issue of evidence preservation for future accountability. Given that domestic prosecutions have stalled, the evidence from Chemmani might be crucial for any future international or hybrid judicial process. Recognizing this, the UN Human Rights Council passed Resolution 46/1 in 2021, mandating the collection and preservation of evidence of Sri Lankan war crimes for use in possible future tribunals. The Chemmani grave – literally containing the bones of victims – is exactly the kind of evidence that must be preserved. If evidence is lost now through negligence or tampering, it could handicap justice efforts years down the road. This puts an onus on the Sri Lankan authorities (and the UN observers) to maintain the integrity of items like skeletal remains, personal effects, and forensic records. Failure to do so not only harms any immediate case, but also violates Sri Lanka’s obligations under international law (Sri Lanka is a signatory to the Convention on Enforced Disappearances, which obliges it to investigate and reveal the truth about the missing).
The impact on reconciliation is another broad consequence. The continued existence of unexamined mass graves is a “haunting past” that weighs on society. Tamil families carry the grief of not knowing what happened to their loved ones; many mothers and fathers have died waiting for answers. Meanwhile, the Sri Lankan state’s reluctance to acknowledge these atrocities fosters bitterness and alienation among Tamils. As one commentator put it, “as long as you deny and say these crimes didn’t happen, how can you reconcile?”. The Chemmani grave, with its tiny skulls of infants and its blindfolded skeletons, stands as a stark testament to what Tamils endured. If the government fails to address it transparently, it effectively dismisses Tamil suffering and validates the narrative that Tamils cannot get justice under a Sinhala-majority state. This has serious political implications, hardening attitudes on both sides. Tamils may increasingly seek international avenues or even renew calls for political autonomy, citing the failure of domestic justice. On the other hand, Sinhalese nationalists often frame such investigations as attempts to persecute “war heroes,” stirring public opposition to accountability (Mahindaratne recalls getting harassing calls accusing her of targeting soldiers). Thus, the Chemmani case is also a barometer of Sri Lanka’s progress toward post-war healing. A sincere effort to prosecute those responsible would have signaled a break from the past; the lack of progress instead highlights the continuation of the wartime mindset, where protecting the military’s image trumps victims’ rights.
Internationally, Sri Lanka’s handling of Chemmani and similar cases has kept the country under scrutiny. Year after year, UN reports and resolutions have noted the “lack of political will” and “insufficient progress” on accountability. In 2022 and 2023, the UN High Commissioner’s reports urged Sri Lanka to show tangible results or face other measures. The Chemmani excavation in 2025 drew the personal attention of High Commissioner Volker Türk, who visited the site and acknowledged the emotional gravity of seeing a mass grave. Such high-profile focus means the government’s actions (or inaction) have diplomatic repercussions. Countries that supported Sri Lanka’s post-war recovery are increasingly impatient with the “cycle of denial”. If Chemmani too ends in impunity, it strengthens calls by activists for avenues like universal jurisdiction – i.e., foreign courts prosecuting Sri Lankan war criminals, as happened in one German case. It could also revive demands to refer Sri Lanka to the ICC, something families explicitly asked for during recent Chemmani-related protests. In essence, Sri Lanka risks ceding control of the justice narrative to international bodies if it cannot demonstrate credible domestic accountability.
In conclusion, the broader implications of the Chemmani case are profound: it is a litmus test of Sri Lanka’s justice system and its moral legitimacy after the war. So far, the test has largely been failed – highlighting impunity, undermining trust, and impairing reconciliation. However, the renewed investigations in 2025 offer a chance, however belated, to correct course. If handled right (with transparency, prosecutions, and perhaps international partnership), Chemmani could become a catalyst for broader accountability. If mishandled, it will reinforce the entrenched view that Sri Lanka’s institutions are incapable of delivering justice to Tamil victims, with all the attendant consequences for peace and unity. The next section will look specifically at why mass graves like Chemmani are so significant as evidence, and why preserving and investigating them properly is crucial for any meaningful justice process.
Significance of Mass Graves as Evidence of Genocide /Atrocities
Mass graves are grim but crucial pieces of evidence in documenting atrocities, whether war crimes, crimes against humanity, or genocide. The Chemmani mass grave – and others discovered in Sri Lanka – hold immense evidentiary value for truth and justice. Understanding their significance underscores why proper investigation is non-negotiable.
Firstly, mass graves provide direct physical evidence of unlawful killings. Each set of human remains can yield forensic information about the cause and manner of death. For example, forensic experts in Chemmani found many skeletons with blindfolds and hands bound, indicating the victims were executed while restrained. Injuries on bones (bullet holes, fractures, stab marks) can be analyzed to determine trauma. In Chemmani’s initial exhumation, at least 10 skeletons showed signs of violent assault – proof that those individuals did not die of natural causes but were murdered. Such forensic findings help corroborate witness testimonies or suspects’ confessions. In international jurisprudence, mass grave evidence has been pivotal in trials (for instance, exhumations in the former Yugoslavia provided key proof for genocide in Srebrenica). In Sri Lanka’s context, a mass grave confirming extrajudicial executions bolsters allegations of systematic violence against a civilian population – a potential crime against humanity. Indeed, the Chemmani site is seen as “clear evidence of war crimes” by Tamil representatives, and even as supporting the claim of genocide.
Secondly, mass graves are often tied to enforced disappearances, and thus are essential for giving answers to families of the missing. Sri Lanka has one of the world’s highest number of unresolved disappearances. For decades, Tamil mothers have been protesting with photos of children who vanished in the war. Mass graves present the possibility of finally uncovering what happened to some of those disappeared. When two Chemmani skeletons in 1999 were identified as specific missing youths, it validated the families’ right to know and confirmed the fate of at least those sons. Identifications also open the door to legal death certificates and proper burials, allowing families to perform final rites – an important aspect of closure in many cultures. For the thousands of families still in limbo, each exhumed body that can be identified is a step out of the torment of uncertainty. As noted by a human rights report, “mass graves present a possibility of providing answers to what happened to the disappeared.”. Conversely, if mass graves are ignored, the disappeared remain “buried” as anonymous victims, and the truth of their end remains hidden.
Mass graves also have a powerful demonstrative impact – they make the scale of atrocities visible. Seeing dozens of skeletons in one place speaks volumes: it proves that killings were not isolated incidents but part of a pattern. This can dispel denial. In Sri Lanka, officials long dismissed or downplayed Tamil claims of large-scale massacres. But the tangible evidence of, say, 346 skeletons in Mannar (unearthed in 2018) or dozens in Chemmani is hard to refute. Even if the government tries to contest the time period or identity of bodies, the sheer number of bodies in a hidden grave is incontrovertible evidence that something terrible happened. It forces the question: who were these people and why were they secretly buried? In Chemmani’s case, the presence of women’s jewelry, children’s toys, and personal items among the remains humanizes the victims, refuting any narrative that they were simply “terrorists” disposed of. A child’s skeleton clutching a schoolbag, as found in Chemmani, powerfully undercuts official propaganda and evokes public sympathy, potentially galvanizing demand for justice.
From a legal perspective, properly documented mass grave evidence can be used to establish crimes in court even years or decades later. Forensic anthropology and archaeology techniques can determine the approximate date of burials (through stratigraphy or carbon dating) and sometimes link them to known military operations. In Chemmani, an expert can testify that the bodies were buried around 1996–1997 (from clothing styles or associated artifacts like dated wrappers), aligning with the period of Army occupation. If rope bindings or bullets are recovered, forensic analysis might even tie them to specific military units or weapons. All this can build a chain of evidence. Should an international tribunal or a future domestic special court take up Sri Lanka’s wartime atrocities, exhumation reports and forensic records from sites like Chemmani, Mannar, or others would be core exhibits. This is why activists emphasize preserving evidence: “Every skeletal remain uncovered… could potentially match one of those names” of the disappeared, and thus become a piece of a prosecutable case.
Mass graves also carry symbolic weight in truth-seeking and memorialization. They are crime scenes but also memorial sites for communities. Documenting them is an act of honoring the dead by acknowledging their murder. In many post-conflict societies (e.g., Rwanda, Bosnia), excavating mass graves and reburying victims with dignity was fundamental to national reckoning. Sri Lanka’s reluctance to do the same has stymied progress. A groundviews essay described mass graves as “sites of human loss, suffering and unimaginable acts of cruelty” that, if left unaddressed, remain “public secrets” fostering rumor and mistrust. By contrast, fully excavating and publicly accounting for mass graves can help societies face the truth. It takes the burden off families (who for years have borne the weight of seeking answers) and places responsibility where it belongs – on the perpetrators and the state. There is also a moral imperative: leaving mass graves untouched is, in a sense, a continued disrespect to the dead, effectively treating them as non-persons. Acknowledging and investigating these graves is a way of restoring dignity to victims and validating the survivors’ pain.
In Sri Lanka, there are dozens of known or suspected mass graves (one source cites over thirty) from various periods – not only the Tamil conflict, but also the JVP insurgencies in the south. Yet proper exhumations have happened in only a few, often by happenstance when construction uncovers them. Most sites remain uninvestigated, reinforcing the narrative of “deliberate erasure” of truth. Every unexamined grave is a missed opportunity for justice. Conversely, each excavation that is done thoroughly adds to the historical and legal record. For example, the discovery of a mass grave of political prisoners in 1990 (Sooriyakanda) eventually contributed to prosecutions in the 1990s, although those too ended ambiguously. If Sri Lanka is to ever achieve a comprehensive accounting of the war, unearthing all mass graves is essential. These graves are the silent witnesses to atrocities, and when we let them “speak” through forensic science, they tell the truth that perpetrators might deny.
In the specific context of genocide allegations, mass graves are often one of the strongest indicators of intent to destroy a population. The presence of multiple mass graves across the Northern and Eastern provinces, containing primarily Tamil victims (including women, children, elderly), bolsters the argument that a campaign of extermination or collective punishment was waged. Tamil leaders have pointed to these graves as evidence of genocidal intent, noting that victims were not combatants but civilians targeted for their ethnicity. While legal genocide is a high bar to prove, the cumulative evidence of sites like Chemmani could contribute toward establishing that widespread, systematic killings occurred. At the very least, it undeniably proves large-scale crimes against humanity. Thus, mass graves are a cornerstone of any historical or legal reckoning with the question of genocide in Sri Lanka.
In summary, mass graves like Chemmani are profoundly significant. They are key to revealing the truth of past atrocities, providing answers (and remains) to grieving families, holding perpetrators accountable with hard evidence, and acknowledging the human dignity of victims. They serve as a bridge between the past and future – if handled properly, they can help a society break the cycle of denial and impunity; if ignored, they fester and allow injustice to continue. This is why Tamil activists and international human rights experts stress the importance of excavating and investigating these sites under scrupulous conditions. The final section will focus on what Tamil human rights defenders, professionals, journalists, and the community are doing – and can do – to ensure justice for victims of Chemmani and other atrocities, given all the challenges discussed.
Ensuring Justice: Actions for Tamil Human Rights Defenders, Professionals, Journalists, and the Community
Confronted with state obfuscation and slow justice, Tamil human rights defenders, lawyers, journalists, and the broader Tamil community have taken on a proactive role to fight for truth and accountability. Their efforts are crucial to keep cases like Chemmani alive and push for justice through all available avenues. Below are key measures these stakeholders are undertaking or can undertake to ensure that victims are not forgotten and perpetrators are eventually held accountable:
Documentation and Evidence Preservation: Tamil activists and professionals are rigorously documenting every finding related to Chemmani and other mass graves. Legal advocates like K.S. Ratnavel and Ranitha Gnanarajah (who represent victims’ families) have been on the ground during excavations, ensuring that a record is kept of proceedings. They file motions in court – for instance, to permit UN officials to access sites – thereby creating a legal paper trail that can be used later. Tamil civil society organizations have also been gathering testimonies from survivors and cataloguing names of the disappeared. By compiling lists of missing persons, suspected execution sites, and any available proof, they create an evidentiary basis that can support future prosecutions. For example, families maintain detailed files on their missing kin, including last seen locations (like checkpoints), which correlate with sites like Chemmani. These grass-roots documentation efforts complement forensic evidence. Tamil rights groups are effectively performing the role of a truth commission from the bottom up – collecting and preserving memories and data that the state has ignored.
Demanding International Involvement: Recognizing the limitations of domestic mechanisms, Tamil human rights defenders consistently call for international oversight and assistance. They have appealed to the United Nations and foreign governments to get involved in investigations. A notable recent action was the “Anaiya Vilakku” (Imperishable Lamp) protest in June 2025, where families of the disappeared and youth volunteers lit lamps near the Chemmani site to draw UN High Commissioner Volker Türk’s attention. Their petition urged that the UN’s Sri Lanka Accountability Project be allowed to monitor and assist with the Chemmani excavation, and that all known mass graves be investigated under international supervision. Activists have also lobbied countries like the UK, US, and EU to press Sri Lanka on these issues. In the Colombo Telegraph, Justice Wigneswaran explicitly called on the United Kingdom (as a UNHRC resolution sponsor and a country with historical ties) to take the lead in ensuring evidence from Chemmani is preserved and an international investigation is opened. Tamil diaspora organizations (e.g. British Tamils Forum, US Tamil groups) amplify these calls in international forums. The strategy is to internationalize the justice process – pushing for mechanisms like a UN-sanctioned inquiry, invoking universal jurisdiction laws abroad, or referral to the International Criminal Court. During the latest Chemmani findings, Tamil protestors even directly demanded Sri Lanka be referred to the ICC for war crimes. While such outcomes are uncertain, these demands keep up global pressure and signal that Tamils will not settle for domestic whitewashing.
Legal Activism and Advocacy: Tamil lawyers and human rights experts are leveraging every legal tool available. They actively engage with the UN human rights system – submitting reports to the UN Human Rights Council, the Working Group on Enforced Disappearances, and other bodies detailing cases like Chemmani. By doing so, they help shape authoritative UN reports that critique Sri Lanka’s failures. Tamil advocates also use foreign courts where possible: e.g., assisting war crimes cases against Sri Lankan officials who travel abroad (using universal jurisdiction). There have been attempts to file cases in places like Switzerland and Germany for Tamil torture survivors, and one such case in Germany resulted in a conviction of an ex-LTTE member – a precedent Tamil activists highlight to argue the same can be done for Sri Lankan military suspects. Additionally, Tamil legal activists in Sri Lanka push for domestic legal remedies despite challenges – filing habeas corpus petitions, appearing in magistrate courts to press for continued Chemmani excavations, and challenging delays. Although the judiciary’s record is mixed, these efforts force the issues into the legal record. A coalition of Tamil lawyers have also been vocal in proposing reforms – for instance, urging that foreign judges or observers be included in any special tribunal, to ensure impartiality. On the community level, Tamil professionals (like doctors and teachers) have supported these legal fights by providing expert testimony or helping victims travel to court, demonstrating a communal support network for justice initiatives.
Media and Awareness Campaigns: Tamil journalists and media outlets play an outsized role in keeping the spotlight on Chemmani and related atrocities. Despite operating in one of the world’s most dangerous environments for journalists, Tamil reporters persist in investigative reporting. Outlets like Tamil Guardian, Uthayan, Virakesari (Tamil press), and TamilNet have continuously covered developments – from the first Chemmani revelations in 1998 to the latest exhumations in 2025 – ensuring these stories are not buried. They provide detailed coverage in multiple languages, reaching both local audiences and the global Tamil diaspora. Tamil journalists often collaborate with international media (like Al Jazeera, BBC) by sharing information and sources, helping to internationalize the narrative. In recent times, social media has also become a tool: Tamil activists share photos and videos from protest sites (e.g. the poignant image of a child’s skeleton with a toy) which can garner worldwide attention and sympathy. By shaping public discourse, these media efforts apply moral pressure on the government. Memorialization events are another aspect – every year Tamils commemorate events like Black July and the Mullivaikkal genocide remembrance; now Chemmani is invoked in speeches and memorials as part of the collective memory of Tamil suffering. This sustained awareness prevents the government from quietly sweeping matters under the rug.
Community Vigilance and Participation: The local Tamil community in the North–East has shown remarkable vigilance. Families of victims do not passively await results – they actively monitor investigations. In Chemmani, relatives of the missing have been physically present at the excavation site, observing the process to ensure transparency. They have even assisted with security by cooperating with police to guard the site day and night. Such participation deters mischief and builds a sense of collective ownership of the process. Community members have also been providing ante-mortem information (photos, descriptions of clothing or jewelry their loved ones wore) to aid identifications – effectively crowdsourcing the forensic investigation. The Tamil community, led by groups like the Association of Relatives of the Disappeared, organizes continuous protests – famously, Tamil mothers have been protesting daily for over 2000 days in some towns, keeping the issue alive in the public eye. These protests often adapt creative forms: candlelight vigils at grave sites, traveling exhibitions of missing persons’ portraits, or the “Imperishable Lamp” protest that coincided with a UN visit. By maintaining an unwavering presence, the community sends the message that they will not let the issue die down. The Tamil diaspora complements these efforts by campaigning in their host countries – for instance, arranging demonstrations in front of UN offices or engaging their MPs to raise Sri Lanka’s human rights record in parliaments. The multi-pronged activism – local and diasporic – aims to ensure a sustained drumbeat for justice.
Pursuing All Avenues of Justice: Tamil leaders encourage a mindset of exhausting every possible avenue – domestic or international – to seek justice. As C.V. Wigneswaran urged, “Tamils should not rest until every avenue for justice has been fulfilled.”. This means if one path is blocked, pursue another: if the Sri Lankan courts won’t deliver justice today, gather evidence for a future tribunal; if the government won’t tell the truth, take the truth to the United Nations; if no one will prosecute the killers now, at least expose their names to shame them and restrict their travel. Tamil activists widely share documentation like the International Truth and Justice Project (ITJP) report on mass graves, which names officials who sabotaged exhumations. By shining light on these individuals, they hope to impose a reputational cost and perhaps visa bans via Magnitsky-style sanctions. The idea is that justice is a long game, and Tamil advocates are in it for the long haul. They invest in educating the next generation about these atrocities through memorial lectures and school events so that the quest continues beyond the current survivors. They also build solidarity with other communities of victims (for instance, the families of Sinhalese youth disappeared in the 1987-89 JVP repression) to strengthen calls for accountability across ethnic lines.
In carrying out these measures, Tamil human rights defenders and journalists face significant risks – intimidation, surveillance, even violent attacks. Sri Lanka’s history is replete with murdered Tamil journalists and activists. Despite this, their courage has led to breakthroughs: for example, it was investigative journalists at the Yukthiya newspaper who first exposed Chemmani back in 1997, before the soldier’s confession, by publishing allegations of mass graves. This kind of tenacity, continuing today, is vital. International human rights organizations like Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch often echo Tamil activists’ calls, essentially amplifying their voice — e.g., Amnesty’s South Asia researcher endorsed the call for international oversight of exhumations as “entirely legitimate”, noting not a single mass grave in Sri Lanka has yielded identified remains returned to families yet. Such validation helps protect local activists and adds pressure on the Sri Lankan state.
In conclusion, the Tamil community – from lawyers and journalists to mothers and student volunteers – is not passively awaiting justice; they are actively engineering the pursuit of justice through advocacy, vigilance, and internationalization. Their demands are clear: truth, accountability, and an end to impunity. They seek to ensure that mass graves like Chemmani are not forgotten crime scenes but rather turning points that eventually lead to legal reckoning. By keeping the spotlight on these issues and engaging globally, they increase the likelihood that one day, whether through a Sri Lankan mechanism or an international court, the perpetrators will face judgment and the victims’ stories will be officially affirmed. The table below summarizes the key concerns and risks identified in the Chemmani case and the corresponding actions being taken or recommended to address them, driven largely by Tamil advocates’ efforts.
Summary of Key Concerns, Risks, and Recommended Actions
|
Key Concern / Risk |
Recommended Action to Ensure Justice |
|
Evidence tampering
or destruction – e.g. potential for authorities to remove or alter remains,
break chain-of-custody |
Insist on strict
chain-of-custody protocols and involve independent international forensic
experts to oversee evidence handling. Secure the site with third-party
monitors (e.g. UN observers) and allow victim families’ representatives to be
present, deterring any behind-the-scenes tampering. |
|
Limited forensic expertise and resources – risk of poor exhumation
techniques or missed evidence due to lack of skills or funding |
Seek
international assistance and training – invite experienced mass-grave
archaeologists and DNA labs to help. Allocate adequate government funds for
forensic analysis (as urged by OHCHR). If the state lacks capacity, formally
request UN technical support to ensure exhumations meet international
standards. |
|
Domestic
investigative bias and mistrust – families fear CID/OMP and local officials
may cover up or not pursue truth |
Increase
transparency and international participation in investigations – e.g. make
Chemmani a UN-supervised investigation as demanded by victim groups. Allow
independent observers (journalists, civil society) at the site. Include
Tamil-speaking officers and trusted human rights lawyers in the process to build
confidence. |
|
Political interference and delays – Attorney General or government
stalling prosecutions, transferring officials, or withholding findings (a
pattern seen in past cases) |
Apply sustained
pressure through courts and international forums – e.g. file motions to
compel action (as done by lawyers in Jaffna Court). Leverage UNHRC
resolutions to hold the government accountable for progress. If domestic
prosecution stalls, push for international avenues: for instance, urging UN
member states to exercise universal jurisdiction or sanction officials
who obstruct justice. |
|
Impunity for
perpetrators – risk that those responsible (especially higher-ups) are never
punished, reinforcing a cycle of violence |
Identify and expose
suspects
through evidence gathered (names from testimony, documents) and pursue all
legal means to hold them accountable. Tamil activists and global NGOs can
publicize names of alleged war criminals and urge travel bans or asset
freezes. Advocate for a Special Court or ICC referral if domestic
courts continue to fail. Keep cases “alive” in public discourse so
perpetrators know the spotlight remains on them. |
|
Lack of victim identification and family closure – remains could end up
unidentified, denying families the truth about relatives’ fates |
Implement a comprehensive
DNA identification program: collect genetic samples from families of the
disappeared and compare with exhumed remains. Seek international forensic
labs’ help if needed. Also, maintain open communication with families –
update them on findings and involve them in memorializing identified victims.
The government should support reburial ceremonies with full respect, which
helps healing. |
|
Continued denial
and historical erasure – state refusing to acknowledge crimes, hampering
reconciliation |
Preserve
documentation and raise awareness – Tamil human rights defenders and journalists
should continue to document every finding and keep local and international
audiences informed. Use anniversaries and memorial events to educate the
public on what happened at Chemmani and elsewhere. Push for official
acknowledgment – for instance, invite government representatives to witness
exhumations or meet survivors. International diplomats can also emphasize
acknowledgment as a step toward reconciliation. |
|
Threats to activists and witnesses – those seeking justice (witnesses,
journalists, lawyers) face intimidation or harm |
Ensure
protection and international scrutiny – advocacy groups should flag any
harassment of Chemmani witnesses or activists to foreign embassies and UN
rapporteurs immediately. The presence of UN officials (like the High
Commissioner’s visit) and media can provide some safety. If needed, seek relocation
or asylum for at-risk witnesses through human rights networks. Continue
emphasizing that achieving justice for these cases is vital for
non-recurrence, which ultimately benefits all communities. |
Each of these actions is part of a broader strategy by Tamil defenders and their allies to combat impunity. While challenges remain steep, these persistent efforts aim to transform mass graves from hidden secrets into foundational evidence for truth, and to ensure that Sri Lanka’s bloody past is confronted with justice rather than buried in silence.
In solidarity,
Wimal Navaratnam
Human Rights Advocate | ABC Tamil Oli (ECOSOC)
Email: tamilolicanada@gmail.com
References
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Remembering Black July 42 years on | Tamil Guardian
4groundviews.org
Chemmani Mass Grave: Renewed Excavation Raises Old Questions
5www.tamilguardian.com
Explainer - What are the Chemmani mass graves? | Tamil Guardian
6www.aljazeera.com
New Sri Lanka mass grave discovery reopens old wounds for Tamils
7srilankabrief.org
Krishanthi Kumaraswamy case and Chemmani mass grave : A landmark case ...
8www.colombotelegraph.com
The Chemmani Mass Grave: Tamils Should Not Rest Until Every Avenue For ...
9theaidem.com
Haunting Past becoming Visible: Chemmani Mass graves in Sri Lanka
10en.wikipedia.org
Chemmani mass graves - Wikipedia
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