Excavations at Sittupatthu (Chemmani) – Timeline of Mass Grave Discoveries in Jaffna

Author Contribution Statement:

June 09, 2025, Brampton, Ontario, Canada

Wimal Navaratnam, as the Chief Administrative Officer of ABC Tamil Oli and a Human Rights Activist, contributed to the conceptualization, research, and writing of this article. Their extensive knowledge and experience in advocating for Tamil rights played a crucial role in shaping the content and arguments presented in this manuscript.

“Let today serve as a reminder of the power we hold as a community—the power to demand accountability, amplify voices, and ensure that the victims of the Tamil genocide are never erased from history. Together, we are stronger. Together, we can uphold justice. ” - Wimal Navaratnam

Introduction

The Chemmani area in Jaffna, Sri Lanka, has been the focus of multiple mass grave investigations spanning decades. In the late 1990s, allegations and discoveries of buried bodies in Chemmani shocked the world and provided early warnings of the atrocities being committed against Tamils. Renewed excavations at Sittupatthu (Sindubathi) in Chemmani in 2025 have once again brought these grim discoveries to light. This report presents a detailed timeline of the Chemmani excavations and related mass graves in Jaffna, key events and findings, and the broader context of how such discoveries have been managed. It also addresses concerns that the Sri Lankan government has, at times, portrayed newly found mass graves as ancient or unrelated to the Armed Conflict – a narrative that Tamils must vigilantly challenge, as seen previously in Mannar District. The Chemmani uncovering of 1999, in particular, should have served as a dire warning to the world about the coming genocide in 2009, yet those signs were ignored. We examine whether the international community and the Tamil people recognized the “Ten Stages of Genocide” in time, or if knowledge and early detection mechanisms failed due to negligence or political agendas. Finally, this report underscores the imperative of learning from past failures – ensuring “Never Again” – so that future generations of Tamils can live without fear of another genocide.

Background: Disappearances in Jaffna and Early Warnings (1995–1998)

In late 1995, Sri Lankan government troops reoccupied the Jaffna peninsula (the Tamil heartland) after battles with the LTTE. The aftermath saw hundreds of Tamils “disappeared” in military custody. By mid-1996, human rights groups estimated that more than 600 Tamil civilians who had been detained by the army during the Jaffna takeover were still missing and presumed dead. Families searching for loved ones found no answers amid a climate of fear and military control. This period was marked by individual atrocities that later proved to be the tip of a larger iceberg. One notorious case was the rape and murder of 18-year-old Krishanthi Kumaraswamy in September 1996 at an army checkpoint in Kaithadi, Jaffna. Four soldiers were convicted in that case, and during the 1998 court proceedings, an explosive revelation emerged: one of the condemned Sri Lankan Army soldiers testified about hidden mass graves in the Chemmani area.

July 1998 – Soldier Alleges Chemmani Mass Graves:

Lance Corporal Somaratne Rajapakse, facing the death penalty for the Krishanthi Kumaraswamy murder, testified that “300 to 400” bodies of disappeared Tamils were buried in Chemmani. He claimed that many who vanished after the 1995–96 military operation in Jaffna had been killed and secretly interred near a Sri Lankan Army checkpoint in the village of Chemmani. Rajapakse and fellow convicts even provided the names of two dozen security personnel allegedly involved. These allegations caused an outcry. Under international and domestic pressure, the Sri Lankan government agreed to investigate. The Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka sought UN assistance, and plans were made for a supervised exhumation at Chemmani.

This soldier’s testimony was a pivotal early warning. It directly implicated the armed forces in systematic extrajudicial killings and hinted at a much larger crime scene. In hindsight, the Chemmani allegation of 1998 signalled many stages of the genocidal process – from organization and preparation (secret detention and killing of a targeted group) to denial (the burials intended to erase evidence). International observers took note: as one expert from Physicians for Human Rights remarked at the time, no other government engaged in an active conflict had ever investigated its own army for such crimes, making the Chemmani inquiry historically significant. It was against this backdrop of mounting evidence and urgency that the excavations in Jaffna began in 1999.

Mass Grave Discoveries in Jaffna (1999)

1999 saw the first concrete steps to uncover the truth in Chemmani, and unexpectedly revealed other mass graves in Jaffna as well. Two major sites were unearthed that year:

Duraiappah Stadium Mass Grave (April 1999):

In early April, construction workers restoring the war-damaged Duraiappah Sports Stadium in Jaffna city made a gruesome discovery. Their digging uncovered human remains, prompting an official exhumation at the stadium grounds. Over a week (April 4–10, 1999), 25 skeletons were unearthed in a shallow grave, including the remains of two children. Villagers clutching ID cards of missing relatives gathered as layers of skulls and bones were lifted out from just three feet beneath the turf.

Eyewitness Paramanthan Selvarajah was present, hoping to find his son Pirapakaran, who had disappeared in 1996. “I saw his bike lying behind a bunker and heard him crying inside,” he recounted of the day his son was taken at an army checkpoint. “We never saw him again,” he said. Pirapakaran, a 24-year-old tailor, was just one among over 12,000 Tamil civilians who had disappeared since the war’s start. This stadium grave site, right next to Jaffna Fort, shocked the community and hinted at secret burial grounds beyond just Chemmani.

However, the handling of the Duraiappah Stadium grave soon became controversial. Jaffna Additional Magistrate S. A. E. Ekanathan, overseeing the case, had to seek assistance from forensic experts. Professor N. Chandrasiri from Ruhuna University observed that proper scientific methods were not followed initially, raising concerns that vital evidence may have been disturbed. Preliminary assessments of the remains suggested the burials might have been around “ten years old,” which conveniently shifted suspicion away from the Sri Lankan Army and onto earlier forces (the Indian Peacekeeping Force, which was present in 1987–1990, or even the LTTE). Local human rights group UTHR (University Teachers for Human Rights) strongly disputed this timeline, noting that the area was under Sri Lankan Army control from 1995 onward and that the victims’ ages and other forensic clues had not been properly analyzed to determine time of death. UTHR demanded a thorough, impartial investigation with public notices for families to come forward, criticizing the stadium exhumation as hasty and unprofessional. Despite these calls, after the initial flurry of activity in April 1999, the Duraiappah Stadium mass grave investigation stagnated. The skeletal remains were sent to Colombo for analysis, but no findings were ever officially released. The site yielded important evidence of war crimes, yet its full story remains unresolved – an ominous sign of how such cases would be managed.

Chemmani (Sittupatthu) Mass Grave Excavations (June–Septembre 1999):

Parallel to the stadium discovery, the main investigation in Chemmani moved forward in mid1999, targeting the sites revealed by the soldier Rajapakse. Excavations began in June 1999 at Chemmani, under tight security but with international observers from Amnesty International and Physicians for Human Rights allowed to witness. Rajapakse, brought from prison, personally pointed out spots where bodies were buried. In the first two days of digging, two skeletons were exhumed from a shallow grave in Chemmani marshland. These remains were soon identified as R. Satish Kumar and Mahendran Babu, two young motor mechanics who had disappeared in 1996 near Jaffna. One skeleton was found bound and blindfolded, with scraps of material still on the bodies – grim evidence of execution style killing. Relatives, who had been invited to observe, wept as they recognized clothing remnants; in one case a wife identified her missing husband by his distinctive tobacco-stained teeth.

As digging continued through the summer, additional burial pits were located based on information from Rajapakse’s co-defendants. By September 1999, a total of 15 bodies had been unearthed at Chemmani. The findings confirmed some of the worst fears: many of the skeletons showed signs of violent death. Later forensic analysis revealed that 10 of the 15 remains – including the blindfolded skeleton – bore unmistakable evidence of assault or murder. Some had their hands tied, and injuries on the bones indicated torture and execution. For the remaining bodies, advanced decomposition made the cause of death indeterminate, but no evidence suggested they died of natural causes. This was effectively a clandestine mass grave of war victims, located near an army checkpoint, exactly as the convicted soldier had alleged.

International experts kept a close watch on the Chemmani process. Dr. William Haglund of PHR praised the Government of Sri Lanka – cautiously – for allowing an investigation that could implicate its own military during an active conflict, calling it an unprecedented step. The dig was supervised by local judicial and medical officials and was slated to continue through the end of September 1999.

Observers speculated that many more bodies might lie in Chemmani:

initial estimates by witnesses ranged up to 100 bodies, and Rajapakse himself had spoken of hundreds. Indeed, Rajapakse told investigators he had helped bury around 300 bodies in 10 sites around Chemmani. Despite intensive searches, only a fraction of that number was found in the 1999 excavation. The Sri Lankan government later claimed that foreign and local experts reached a “unanimous decision” that no mass graves existed in Chemmani beyond those 15 bodies – effectively rejecting the soldier’s higher estimate. Skeptics noted, however, that many factors (limited digging area, potential tampering, or removals before the investigation, etc.) could explain why more remains were not immediately located.

Immediate Aftermath (Late 1999):

The discoveries at Chemmani received international attention and prompted calls for justice. In December 1999, the government’s team of investigators submitted a 75-page forensic report to the Jaffna Magistrate on the exhumations. According to this report (later acknowledged by the U.S. State Department), 2 of the 15 Chemmani bodies were positively identified as those of missing persons from 1996, and 8 of the bodies showed signs of torture or foul play. Notably, one skeleton was found with hands bound and eyes blindfolded – graphic evidence supporting allegations of extrajudicial execution. The State Department praised the Sri Lankan authorities for this “serious, transparent investigation” and for inviting foreign forensic experts and observers. It urged Colombo to continue by identifying all the victims and prosecuting those responsible. Human rights organizations likewise said the Chemmani exhumation was a “first important step toward full accountability,” emphasizing that the widespread “disappearances” in Jaffna needed truth and justice.

By the end of 1999, enough evidence had emerged from Chemmani to strongly indicate that Sri Lankan security forces had committed systematic killings of civilians in Jaffna. Each skeleton told a story of a life cut short: for example, researchers found one set of remains still wearing a pair of gold bangles and a recognizable sari – details that a grieving family used to identify their lost daughter. Still, the total of 15 bodies was far less than the hundreds feared. Whether this meant the soldier’s information was exaggerated or that many graves remained hidden was an open question. Tamils in the area believed Chemmani was just one burial site among many. In the spirit of uncovering the full truth, authorities moved into the next phase – victim identification and legal action – as 2000 began.

2000: Identification Efforts and Stalled Justice

With the Chemmani exhumations completed, the focus shifted to identifying the victims and prosecuting the perpetrators. Initially, there were some promising moves by Sri Lankan authorities:

Identifying the Victims:

In early 2000, the Criminal Investigation Department (CID) and the Attorney General’s Department collected DNA samples and other evidence from families who had reported loved ones missing in Jaffna around 1996. A massive outreach was conducted – about 500 relatives of the disappeared were invited to view clothing, jewelry, and personal items recovered with the 15 skeletons. This viewing, held in Jaffna, aimed to match these artifacts to known missing persons. Many families did recognize items; as noted, at least two victims (the mechanics) were identified by their clothes and other distinctive markers. The skeletal remains were then handed over to Professor Chandrasiri Niriella, a top forensic scientist, for detailed examination. Prof. Niriella reported that he could determine the cause of death in 13 out of the 15 cases – most had injuries consistent with homicide (such as gunshot wounds or bound limbs). Only two skeletons showed no visible trauma. These findings reinforced that the Chemmani victims had “met violent ends,” corroborating the earlier forensic report. The identification process was painstaking, but it offered a glimmer of closure to some families and bolstered calls to charge those responsible.

Legal Action – Arrests of Soldiers:

In March 2000, Sri Lanka announced a breakthrough. Based on evidence from Chemmani and witness testimony, warrants were issued for the arrest of seven military personnel suspected in connection with the Chemmani killings. These were members of the security forces named by Rajapakse or identified through the investigation. It seemed that justice might finally be catching up: for the first time, Sri Lankan soldiers were being directly implicated in court for the mass disappearances of Tamils. Four of these army officers were indeed taken into custody by mid-2000. Observers hailed this as progress and expected a trial.

Unfortunately, the momentum did not last. All of the arrested suspects were soon released on bail, and the case ground to a halt in the labyrinth of Sri Lanka’s legal system. Years passed with no indictments. The government never published the investigation’s full report, and no charges stuck. By July 2000, the suspects were free – and, tellingly, reports emerged that all four army officers among them had even been promoted within the military. This was a bitter outcome for the families who had pinned hopes on the Chemmani probe.

Impunity and Delay:

Between 2000 and 2007, the Chemmani case languished in a state of suspension. Officially, the file remained “open,” but there was no progress. In 2004, the U.S. State Department noted that the case was “pending” with no one held accountable. In January 2006, fully six years after the exhumation, police investigators admitted they were “awaiting instructions” from the Attorney General on how to proceed, and a Colombo magistrate rebuked the unacceptable delays. The Chemmani investigation stalled, lost in bureaucracy and a lack of political will. A 2023 study on Sri Lankan mass graves later summarized this pattern: exhumations are often never completed or followed through – suspects get bailed, inquiries drag on until public attention wanes, and justice is deferred indefinitely.

In retrospect, the year 2000 marked a turning point that demonstrated both the possibility of truth-seeking and the reality of impunity. On one hand, enough evidence had been gathered to implicate specific individuals in heinous crimes, marking a step towards accountability. On the other hand, powerful institutional forces worked to ensure that accountability was never realized. Some activists involved in exposing these crimes even faced violent retaliation. Notably, S. T. Gananathan, a social worker who had helped bring the Krishanthi Kumaraswamy murder (and thus Chemmani) to light, was assassinated in 2007 by unknown shooters in Jaffna. Locals believe this was revenge by those who wanted Chemmani and similar atrocities buried in silence. Sri Lanka’s Armed Conflict, meanwhile, continued into the new decade, and without justice for past crimes, the cycle of violence against Tamil civilians persisted.

Continued Conflict and Massacres in Jaffna (2000–2006)

Even as the Chemmani evidence was emerging, Sri Lanka’s Armed Conflict showed no signs of abating. The failure to hold perpetrators accountable contributed to an atmosphere of impunity in which further atrocities occurred. The Jaffna peninsula remained militarized, and civilians were often at the mercy of security forces. A tragic example came not long after Chemmani:

Mirusuvil Massacre (December 2000):

On 20 December 2000, eight Tamil civilians, including three children, were murdered by Sri Lankan soldiers in the village of Mirusuvil, Jaffna. The victims were among a group of displaced families who had returned during a lull in fighting to check on their homes. They never returned. One young man, the sole survivor, escaped and reported the crime. It was found that the soldiers had brutally killed the civilians and dumped their bodies in a shallow mass grave, in an attempt to hide the massacre. The Mirusuvil case did eventually lead to a rare conviction – 15 years later, in 2015, an army sergeant (Sunil Ratnayake) was found guilty of the murders by a Sri Lankan court. However, even this token justice was short-lived: in 2020, President Gotabaya Rajapaksa pardoned the convicted sergeant, setting him free. No other soldier was ever convicted for Mirusuvil. This massacre, occurring just one year after Chemmani, underscored how easily “disappearances” and killings could continue when those responsible were not punished. It also eerily mirrored Chemmani – with victims blindfolded and tied, killed as “terrorist suspects” and secretly buried – showing that the modus operandi of violence against Tamil civilians remained unchanged.

Throughout the early 2000s, ceasefires came and went, but violence against Tamils (both in the North and East) recurred. Thousands more disappeared or were killed in the shadows. Importantly, no Sri Lankan military or police personnel faced consequences for the mass graves of the 1990s. The charges stemming from Chemmani were quietly dropped. Even the international community, after an initial burst of attention, moved on. By 2005–2006, Sri Lanka slid back into full-scale war after a failed peace process. Tamil civilians braced for the worst as the government launched a new offensive, buoyed by global antiterror sentiment post 9/11 that painted the conflict purely as a campaign against “Tamil terrorism”. In this climate, the lessons of Chemmani – that there had been systematic slaughter of detainees – were swept under the rug. For Tamil activists, it was a frustrating period where the truth was known but justice was denied.

Final Phase of the War and Mullivaikkal Genocide (2009)

In 2009, the long-Armed Conflict reached a cataclysmic climax in the Mullivaikkal area of Mullaitivu District, in the northeast of Sri Lanka. Here, the Sri Lankan armed forces cornered the remaining LTTE fighters along with hundreds of thousands of Tamil civilians in a narrow coastal strip. The result was what many now term the Mullivaikkal Massacre or Tamil Genocide – a brutal finale in which Sri Lankan state forces slaughtered tens of thousands of Tamil civilians within a few months.

Mass Atrocities in 2009:

In the final assaults of April-May 2009, government troops heavily shelled so-called “No Fire Zones” where Tamil civilians had been told to gather, bombarding hospitals, food distribution lines, and makeshift shelters. Defenceless families were hit by artillery, cluster munitions, and aerial attacks. By UN estimates, at least 40,000 Tamil civilians were killed, while local and independent counts place the number much higher (some activists say over 100,000 may have perished). When the guns fell silent on May 18, 2009 – now commemorated as Tamil Genocide Remembrance Day – the extent of the atrocities became painfully clear. Satellite images and survivor testimonies spoke of mass burial sites and bodies strewn across Mullivaikkal.

For those who had followed the conflict, the 2009 genocide did not emerge from nowhere. It was the culmination of longstanding patterns: decades of systemic oppression and episodic mass violence against Tamils. Many of the precursors to genocide – hate propaganda, dehumanization of the enemy, eliminationist rhetoric from nationalist leaders, the rounding up of civilians (as in 1995–96 in Jaffna), and the use of mass detention camps – had all been observed in Sri Lanka. Yet, when Mullivaikkal happened, the world was caught “off guard.” International actors failed to intervene or even adequately condemn the killings until it was too late.

In hindsight, the Chemmani mass grave of 1999 was a dire warning that went unheeded. It signalled that Sri Lanka’s security forces were willing and able to exterminate civilians extrajudicially and cover up their crimes. If the global community and Tamil leaders had fully recognized the ten-stage progression of genocide (a framework proposed by genocide scholars) in Sri Lanka, they might have predicted that the “final stage” – outright extermination – was looming. All the signs were present: classification (Tamils vs. Sinhalese), dehumanization (Tamil civilians often branded as “terrorists” or less than loyal citizens), organization (military task forces conducting disappearances), polarization (hardline political rhetoric and anti Tamil riots), preparation (mass internment camps, no fire zones corralling Tamils), and so on. By 2008–2009, Sri Lanka had entered the last stages: persecution and extermination, followed by official denial.

Why, then, was the genocide not prevented? Analysts and Tamil activists offer sombre answers:

Ignored or Downplayed Warnings:

Some suggest that there was sufficient knowledge of the atrocities accumulating in Sri Lanka, but key international players chose to discount it. The cries of Tamil victims in 2009 were dismissed by some world leaders as “exaggerated” or blamed solely on the Tamil Tigers, echoing how earlier reports of mass graves were met with Sri Lankan government denials. During the final war, the government relentlessly denied targeting civilians at all – a stance that many outside governments were slow to challenge. The portrayal of the war as a fight against terrorism allowed the regime to operate with impunity under the cover of sovereignty.

Geopolitical and Political Interests:

There is convincing evidence that geopolitics trumped humanitarian concern. International powers were well aware of the slaughter taking place in Mullivaikkal. Yet, countries like India, China, the US, and others had strategic or political reasons for tacitly supporting (or not stopping) Colombo’s offensive. For instance, one Tamil leader, Visuvanathan Rudrakumaran of the Transnational Government of Tamil Eelam, noted that global powers “turned a blind eye” to the massacre of Tamils to prevent the emergence of a new state in the Indian Ocean – i.e., they did not want Tamil Eelam to secede, and thus let the Sri Lankan government finish off the LTTE at any cost. The doctrine of “Responsibility to Protect” (R2P) was not applied, despite advocates like Gareth Evans calling for it as early as 2005 in Sri Lanka. In sum, political calculations (defeating an insurgent group, maintaining Sri Lanka’s unity, currying favour with the Sri Lankan state for influence in the region) led many governments to ignore the signs and later, to minimize the genocide itself.

Insufficient Early Detection Frameworks:

It could also be argued that the international community did not adequately utilize frameworks like Stanton’s “10 Stages of Genocide” in real time to identify Sri Lanka’s trajectory. Whether due to a lack of awareness or reluctance to apply the “genocide” label, the slow buildup – from the 1983 pogroms to Chemmani 1996–99 to the mass civilian displacement and bombing of Tamil areas by 2008 – did not trigger a preventive diplomatic intervention. The UN painfully admitted in its internal review in 2012 that it failed the Tamil people in 2009, not acting or speaking out enough. Thus, even though knowledge existed (especially among Tamil diaspora and activists) that a genocidal endgame was approaching, it was either not translated into effective action or dismissed as partisan alarmism. Indeed, during the war, Sri Lankan officials frequently accused those sounding alarms (journalists, NGOs, even UN officials) of being LTTE sympathizers, thereby silencing or discrediting them.

In the end, the Mullivaikkal genocide occurred in plain view, and the world’s response came mostly after the fact, through UN reports, war crimes investigations, and commemorations by the Tamil diaspora. But by then, it was too late for tens of thousands of victims. The Chemmani graves of 1999 stand as ghostly testaments that the world was warned a full decade earlier about what the Sri Lankan state was capable of doing to the Tamil people. That warning was not adequately heeded, one of the reasons why “Never Again” rang hollow in 2009.

Post-war Mass Grave Discoveries and Narratives (2010s)

After the war ended in 2009, Sri Lanka’s north and east remained heavily under military occupation. As displaced people began to resettle and development projects got underway, more mass graves began to surface – some by accident, others through delayed investigations of wartime rumours. These postwar discoveries further revealed the scope of past atrocities, but they also highlighted how contentious the process of truth finding can be when the state is intent on controlling the narrative.

One of the most significant finds was in Mannar District (northwest Sri Lanka, a Tamil area):

Mannar Mass Grave (2013–2019): In late 2013, construction workers digging the foundations of a building (a Sathosa retail store) in Mannar town uncovered human bones. This led to an extensive excavation, which eventually became Sri Lanka’s largest mass grave on record. By the time court supervised digging concluded in 2019, approximately 346 skeletons had been exhumed from the Mannar site, including the remains of around 20 children. The sheer scale raised immediate questions: were these victims of the Armed Conflict (which saw heavy fighting and many disappearances in Mannar), or could they be older burials?

To determine the age of the grave, samples from six skeletons were sent to the Beta Analytics lab in Florida, USA for radiocarbon dating. The results, released in early 2019, were surprising – the tested bones dated to somewhere between 1499 and 1719 AD. This suggested the grave was centuries old, predating not just the Armed Conflict but even British colonial rule. Sri Lankan government officials quickly seized on this result; some local historians speculated the grave might be linked to an ancient event (like the 1544 massacre of Catholics by a Jaffna Tamil king). The official narrative leaned toward “this was not a modern war crime site.”

However, many, including the families of the disappeared in Mannar, were not convinced. Lawyers representing these families pointed out serious limitations in the carbon dating study. Only six samples were evaluated out of hundreds of skeletons – and crucially, those samples might have come from the deepest layers of the grave. If the grave site had been used in multiple periods (older bones at the bottom, more recent on top), testing only the oldest strata would skew the results. The lawyers noted that some artifacts found with the bodies (like pieces of clothing or personal items) appeared to be of recent origin, inconsistent with a 16thcentury burial. They urged that more comprehensive analysis – including testing remains from upper layers and examining soil and artifact layers – was needed before concluding the grave’s date. The Tamil side suspected that at least part of the Mannar mass grave could contain victims of contemporary violence (1970s–1990s) despite the initial carbon dating of some bones to older centuries.

The Mannar mass grave thus became a battleground for narrative. By labeling it an “ancient grave,” the Sri Lankan authorities could absolve the military of any culpability. Tamils feared a repeat of what happened with the Duraiappah Stadium grave in 1999 – initial hints that blamed others (in that case, the Indian army or LTTE) led to the investigation fizzling out without answers. As of 2025, the Mannar grave’s true story remains unresolved; the Mannar Magistrate’s Court has yet to formally close the case, and further forensic tests have been occasionally discussed. But the episode has sowed distrust. To many Tamils, it exemplified how the government might misrepresent a war era mass grave as something “historical” to avoid accountability.

Numerous other suspected mass grave sites across the North & East have become known since the war:

In Kilinochchi and Mullaitivu (areas of heavy fighting in 2008–09), skeletons have been found in shallow graves when clearing battlefields or former camps. In some cases, investigations were started but suddenly halted, with little explanation.

In the Eastern province (e.g., Kalavanchikudy in Batticaloa District), mass graves of civilians killed in late 1980s violence were reported. Here, too, exhumations have been incomplete, or results kept opaque.

The Sooriyakanda mass grave in the South (discovered in the 1990s, containing schoolchildren killed in 1989 during a different insurgency) set an earlier precedent of how Sri Lanka struggles with the truth about mass graves. That case also saw delays and political interference.

A pattern is evident:

Over the last three decades, at least 20 mass graves have been uncovered in Sri Lanka, but hardly any have led to firm conclusions or prosecutions. A 2023 report by the Sri Lanka Commission for the Investigation of Missing Persons and others bluntly stated that efforts to uncover the truth have been systematically stymied – forensic experts transferred, police ignoring court orders, families’ lawyers barred from sites, no witness protection, and even the rare convictions undone by pardons. This pattern represents a “failed exhumation” dynamic: evidence is unearthed, but accountability is reburied.

To summarize some key mass grave cases in Sri Lanka’s north and their fates, consider the following:

Mass Grave Site	Year Discovered	Remains Found	Investigative Outcome / Status
SittupatthuChemmani (Jaffna)	1999	15 skeletal remains (war victims from ~1996)	Internationally observed exhumation; 7 soldiers arrested but released on bail; case stalled with no convictions (open but “pending” by 2004)
Duraiappah Stadium (Jaffna)	1999	25 skeletons (incl. 2 children	Excavated under magistrate’s watch; officials hinted at older origin (IPKF/LTTE era); no further forensic results publicized; investigation inconclusive.
Mirusuvil (Jaffna)mass grave of massacre victims	2000	8 bodies (Tamil civilians, Dec 2000)	Crime discovered via survivor; one soldier convicted in 2015 but pardoned in 2020; no systemic inquiry into chain of command.
Mannar (Mannar District)	2013–2018	276+ skeletons (largest grave; mixed ages)	Carbon dating on select samples indicates 15th–18th century origin; families contest the results as incomplete; the case remains open, with calls for further analysis.
Others (Kilinochchi, Batticaloa, etc.	2010s	Dozens of remains in various sites	Initial exhumations often halted or limited; no comprehensive reports; many sites not officially acknowledged as war-era graves.

This overview shows a consistent theme: the truth of these graves is fiercely contested, and justice remains elusive. Each site holds stories of unimaginable loss, yet the Sri Lankan state’s narrative often diverges from Tamil families’ accounts. It is within this climate of contested history that a new chapter at Chemmani is now unfolding.

Renewed Excavation at Chemmani (Sittupatthu) – 2025

More than two decades after the 1999 Chemmani exhumations, the issue sprang back into the headlines in early 2025. In the same Chemmani locale, at a subsection known as Sittupatthu (Sindubathi) near a Hindu cremation ground, fresh human remains have been discovered, indicating a mass grave dating to the mid-1990s wartime, which may be part of the broader Chemmani burial sites.

February 2025 – New Remains Uncovered:

On 13 February 2025, workers digging at the Ariyalai Sindubathi burial ground (Chemmani area) for a new crematorium made a grim find: human skeletal fragments. They immediately halted work and informed local authorities. The Nallur Pradeshiya Sabha (local council) and the Cemetery Development Board were alerted, and the Sri Lankan police in Jaffna were notified soon after. Recognizing the potential significance – this was Chemmani, after all – officials quickly treated the site as sensitive. On 20 February 2025, Jaffna Magistrate A. Anandarajah conducted a preliminary judicial inspection of the findspot. He ordered geophysical surveys and a supervised excavation to assess how many bodies might be buried there. The magistrate’s initiative-taking involvement ensured that the area was secured under court authority to prevent any tampering.

Excavation Begins (May 2025): After some weeks of preparation, the official excavation commenced on 15 May 2025. The dig was led by Professor Raj Somadeva, a senior archaeologist appointed by the government who had experience in investigating suspected graves (Prof. Somadeva was also involved in the Mannar mass grave analysis). Police and a Judicial Medical Officer (forensic doctor) from Jaffna Hospital were on hand to assist. Significantly, a team of Tamil lawyers, including Attorney V.S. Niranjana, monitored the process on behalf of the families of the disappeared. The presence of independent observers was a response to past experiences, to ensure transparency.

In the first two days of digging, the team made major finds. On 16 May 2025 (Day 2), they uncovered a complete human skeleton, as well as a separate human skull and a hand bone, at about a one-meter depth. Intriguingly, these remains were not all in one pit – they were scattered in various locations within the site, suggesting multiple burial spots. This immediately raised concerns that the area indeed harbours multiple bodies, consistent with a mass grave of executed individuals rather than a single grave. Rain interrupted the work on 17 May, causing waterlogging, so the team paused and then shifted to a new section of the site once digging resumed. In that resumed phase, they unearthed five more human skulls and numerous skeletal fragments belonging to additional individuals. By the end of May, at least 7 distinct skeletons had been identified in total, and bones continued to turn up as excavation progressed in grids.

June 2025 – Declaring a Mass Grave:

Under Sri Lankan law and forensic standards, finding the remains of three or more persons in one site meets the criteria to classify it as a “mass grave.” With the count already above that threshold, the involved attorneys moved to ensure this label was officially applied. On 3 June 2025, Tamil legal representatives filed submissions in the Jaffna Magistrate’s Court to have the Chemmani–Sindubathi site formally recognized as a mass grave. This is not just semantic; declaring it a mass grave would mandate certain procedures, including more resources for excavation and preventing any quick reburial or dismissal of the findings. The lawyers visiting the site explicitly stated that given “remains of more than three individuals have already been recovered,” the criteria for a mass grave are satisfied. The Magistrate has since granted an extension of the excavation permit (news reports in early June indicated the court authorized 45 more days of digging to thoroughly uncover the area). As of the first week of June 2025, seven full or partial skeletons had been recovered, and further work was ongoing with intermittent weather delays.

The significance of this renewed Chemmani excavation cannot be overstated for the Tamil community:

It confirms long-held suspicions that Chemmani held more bodies than the 15 found in 1999. The location of this site (a Hindu cremation ground near where the 1999 exhumations took place) suggests it could be part of the same killing field used by the military in 1996. Survivors from Jaffna have often pointed out areas like wells, government land, or cemeteries in Chemmani where foul odours and rumours of bodies persisted in the late 90s – now those stories gain credence.

The fact that the remains were only discovered during routine construction in 2025 parallels other accidental findings (like Mannar). It raises the question: What if development projects disturb other sites? Many such mass graves could still lie hidden across the North and East. Indeed, Tamil civil society groups have identified numerous sites yet to be excavated.

The immediate call for international oversight and forensic rigour reflects lessons learned from the past. Tamil families of the disappeared and activists swiftly demanded that the Chemmani site be managed with utmost transparency. There are renewed calls for an internationally monitored investigation into this and other mass graves, as local Tamils have lost faith in domestic mechanisms. Organizations of the families of the missing, who have been protesting continuously for over 3,000 days for answers, insist on independent forensic experts and observers, fearing that solely relying on Sri Lankan officials could lead to evidence being hidden or misinterpreted.

Early signs from the 2025 Chemmani excavation indicate that the authorities are proceeding according to the book (court orders, archaeological digs, involvement of JMO and magistrate oversight). However, the community remains vigilant. Legal proceedings to formally declare it a mass grave are part of locking in that oversight. Already, the discoveries have sparked painful memories – families who lost loved ones in 1996 are coming forward, wondering if these newly unearthed bones might be their relatives. It is Chemmani 1999 all over again, but perhaps this time with greater public awareness.

The 2025 Chemmani exhumation also arrives in a changed political context: internationally, there is more recognition of Sri Lanka’s past crimes (the UN Human Rights Council has ongoing resolutions for collecting evidence of war crimes), and locally, there is a Tamil youth generation determined to document history. Thus, the hope is that this time, Chemmani’s secret will not be brushed aside. Each skeleton recovered is a witness, potentially allowing families to identify their kin and restart demands for justice.

Government Narratives vs. Tamil Vigilance

Every time a mass grave is discovered in Sri Lanka, a secondary battle unfolds over the narrative: Whose story will define these bones? The Sri Lankan government, military, and Sinhala nationalist establishment have consistently sought to control the interpretation of mass grave findings, often minimizing or reassigning blame. Tamil communities and human rights defenders, on the other hand, push to expose a pattern of state violence. The Chemmani/Sittupatthu excavations are a case in point, coming as they do after years of such narrative struggles.

Official Spin and Denial:

The Sri Lankan state’s responses to mass grave discoveries have frequently been characterized by denial or deflection:

In 1999, after the Duraiappah Stadium grave was found, officials quickly floated the theory that the remains might be from the 1980s IPKF period or even due to LTTE killings, rather than acknowledging they could be unfortunate victims of the Sri Lankan Army’s own operations. Similarly, when the Chemmani investigation did not unearth the hundreds of bodies alleged, the Defence Ministry hurried to claim that no further graves exist and that the convict’s claims were unfounded. This, despite unmistakable evidence of at least 15 murders at Chemmani.

The government’s tendency to label uncomfortable findings as “old graves” was seen again with Mannar’s carbon dating results in 2019. The quick embrace of the “colonial era” narrative for the Mannar mass grave, even mentioning a 1544 event, came before any comprehensive investigation was completed. Tamils saw this as a pre-emptive attempt to wash the military’s hands of any involvement, creating a public perception that these graves have nothing to do with the Armed Conflict.

Genocide Denial:

At a broader level, top Sri Lankan leaders continue to deny that any genocide or systematic targeting of Tamils ever took place. For instance, even moderate new leaders have echoed the line that “there was no genocide, only a war against terrorists.” This parallels other infamous cases of denial in history (for example, some officials justify their actions like the Ottoman Empire did with Armenians, claiming security needs – a comparison pointed out by Tamil representatives). The government consistently disputes international reports of mass atrocities and has resisted using the G word (genocide) in any reconciliation or truth mechanism, which Tamils rightfully interpret as an effort to erase their suffering from national memory. Because of this, Tamil vigilance and skepticism are high whenever human remains are found:

Demand for Independent Experts:

Tamil civil society urges that independent forensic experts (preferably international or at least outside the Sri Lankan security establishment) be involved in analyzing remains. In 2025 Chemmani, the involvement of Prof. Somadeva (a reputable archaeologist but a government appointee) is watched warily. Tamils recall that in the first Chemmani probe; it was the presence of foreign observers (like Amnesty and PHR) that lent credibility. They want similar external oversight now, to counteract any state interference.

Legal Action and Media Attention:

Tamil lawyers and activists have become initiative-taking in legally intervening – as seen by the swift move to declare Chemmani a mass grave in court. This not only helps ensure proper procedure but also creates public records that are harder to ignore or alter. Tamil media (e.g., Tamil Guardian, TamilNet, Tamil newspapers) closely cover these developments, providing an alternative narrative in English and Tamil to the wider world. They often highlight inconsistencies or past coverups. For example, Tamil outlets reported how the Office on Missing Persons (OMP), a state body set up for disappearances, was participating in Mannar but was viewed with suspicion. Families accused the OMP of being a tool to “divert the issue and safeguard the government” rather than honestly pursue truth. This persistent critique has led families to refuse engagement with domestic bodies like the OMP, instead calling for international mechanisms.

“Multiple Mass Graves” Awareness:

There is a strong awareness in the Tamil community that Chemmani is not isolated. Activists often mention that “there are several more mass graves in the North and East that should be investigated impartially as well.” The memory of places like Sathurukondan (Eastern Province, 1990 massacre site), Chemmani, Akkaraipattu, Kalmunai, and many unnamed sites is kept alive in local discourse. This counters any narrative that a new find is an anomaly – instead, showing it fits a broader pattern of past state violence.

Preventing Erasure:

A key motto of Tamil efforts is to prevent these graves from being forgotten or explained away. They remember how quickly the stadium grave story disappeared from national news in 1999 after initial exhumation. To avoid repeats, Tamil campaigners document everything: dates, number of remains, any identifying evidence, and even conduct religious or memorial observances at sites to honor the dead (thereby drawing attention). The unveiling of memorials – such as the recent Tamil Genocide Memorial in Brampton, Canada – also serves to counter the state's narrative by insisting on remembrance of events like Chemmani and Mullivaikkal.

In the case of the 2025 Chemmani site, Tamil representatives have openly voiced their suspicions. They note that this site lies in an area that was under tight Sri Lankan Army control in 1995–1996, during which numerous people were detained and vanished. Therefore, they contend it is highly likely a war-era grave of Tamil civilians killed by state forces, not some random old cemetery. Already, there is talk in the community that the government might try to attribute the new Chemmani remains to, say, the 1987–89 period (when the Indian Army or southern insurgents were active) or some unrelated historical burial ground. Tamils urge forensic caution against such assumptions: each skeleton’s context (depth, position, any associated items) must be carefully recorded to establish the time of death. The fact that remains were found scattered in separate locations on the site might indicate bodies hastily buried in a field, consistent with the chaotic disposal of war victims, rather than an orderly graveyard.

Crucially, Tamil groups argue that proper investigations are not an affront to the Sri Lankan state but are necessary for true reconciliation. The persistent denial or distortion of these mass grave findings, they say, only deepens Tamil mistrust. To rebuild any confidence, the government would need to allow a robust, truth-seeking process. Unfortunately, past behavior (like the abrupt transfer of magistrates or archaeologists who get too close to the truth in some cases, or the lack of prosecutions) has shown the opposite. Hence, Tamil vigilance remains the only guarantee that these sites will not simply be covered up again.

The atmosphere surrounding the 2025 Chemmani excavation is therefore one of wary hope: hope that finally some truth will be acknowledged, and war-torn families will get answers, but wariness that without constant public scrutiny, the old patterns of obfuscation will repeat. In the words of one Tamil activist, “If our children are alive, then whose remains were found in the mass graves? Give us justice: do not delay justice by postponing and covering up.” It encapsulates the plea of the victims’ families: Confront the reality, do not bury it again.

Lessons and Reflections: Early Warnings, Genocide Prevention, and “Never Again”

Looking back at the timeline of Chemmani and related events, a haunting question emerges: Could the Tamil genocide of 2009 have been predicted and prevented if the world had paid closer attention to Chemmani in 1999? The discoveries in Jaffna’s soil were more than isolated war crimes; they were signals of a broader genocidal process underway. The failure to internalize those signals carries important lessons for Sri Lanka and the international community.

Chemmani as an Alert:

The Chemmani mass grave, when uncovered in 1999, provided tangible evidence of what had until then been reported mostly anecdotally – the Sri Lankan state’s systematic elimination of Tamil civilians. It showcased several stages of what genocide scholars identify in escalating atrocities:

Organization:

The disappearances were not random; soldiers had lists, checkpoints were used to filter out young Tamil men, and secret burial grounds were organized near army camps.

Preparation:

Victims were often blindfolded, bound, and executed after interrogation – indicating a methodical approach rather than rogue, spontaneous acts.

Denial:

Even as the killings happened, the state denied any wrongdoing, as exemplified by the initial refusal to acknowledge mass graves until forced by testimony.

In genocide prevention theory, recognizing these signs early is crucial. If in 1999 the international community had treated Chemmani not just as a localized human rights issue but as a red flag of genocide, pressure could have been applied on Sri Lanka to rein in its military and pursue peace more earnestly. Instead, the years following saw a lack of sustained international follow-up. The world was preoccupied with other issues (the Kosovo war in 1999, then the global War on Terror after 2001). Sri Lanka managed to avoid international scrutiny by aligning its narrative with “fighting terrorism,” an alignment that gained traction after the 9/11 attacks.

Understanding the “Ten Stages” (or Warning Signs): Dr. Gregory Stanton’s theory of the Ten Stages of Genocide is often cited in genocide studies and includes: Classification, Symbolization, Discrimination, Dehumanization, Organization, Polarization, Preparation, Persecution, Extermination, and Denial. By the late 1990s, in Sri Lanka:

o Classification was long established (two ethnic groups with an “us vs them” mentality).

o Dehumanization was rife (state media and some officials frequently conflated all Tamils with terrorists, a form of dehumanizing a whole group).

o Organization and Preparation were evident in things like the mass internment of returning Jaffna civilians in 1996 (where men were separated and many disappeared).

o Persecution was ongoing (emergency laws targeting Tamils, checkpoints, cordons, and search operations in Tamil areas).

Genocide Warnings & Lessons Learned

Chemmani 1999 – A Warning Ignored Content:

The 1999 Chemmani discovery should have alerted the world to Sri Lanka’s genocidal trajectory.
Tamil activists in the 1990s argued that mass killings were not isolated crimes but part of a systematic effort to eliminate Tamil civilians.
The UN and international community failed to intervene, leading to the Tamil Genocide at Mullivaikkal in 2009.

The “Ten Stages of Genocide” model applied to Sri Lanka:

Classification – Tamils vs. Sinhalese.
Symbolization – Tamils branded as terrorists.
Discrimination – Denial of rights, militarized repression.
Dehumanization – State propaganda justified killings.
Organization – Military checkpoints, enforced disappearances.
Polarization – Anti-Tamil violence escalated.
Preparation – Internment camps, aerial bombings.
Persecution – Mass civilian killings in “No Fire Zones.”
Extermination – Mullivaikkal genocide (May 2009).
Denial – Sri Lanka continues to reject responsibility.

(Presenter’s Note) "The 1999 Chemmani exhumations provided clear warning signs that systematic violence against Tamils was escalating—but nothing was done to stop it. By the time the genocide reached its final stage in 2009, tens of thousands were dead. Understanding these warning signs is crucial to preventing future atrocities."

Chemmani’s extrajudicial killings were part of the Extermination phase on a small scale.

The final, massive extermination in 2009 did not erupt in a vacuum – it was preceded by these clear stages. It is fair to ask: Did Tamils themselves and their political leadership recognize these signs in time?

Some did raise alarms:

Tamil diaspora groups and some local voices claimed “a genocide is happening” during the war years, but those warnings were often dismissed as hyperbole. The lack of an effective international response could imply that either these stakeholders did not know the genocide framework or chose not to act on it. In truth, it might be more of the latter. The UN and experts did see grave human rights violations, but labelling it “genocide” has political implications that many states were (and still are) hesitant to embrace in Sri Lanka’s context. Admitting that a genocide was unfolding would have compelled action under international law (like invoking Responsibility to Protect), which powerful countries were not willing to commit to.

Failures and Accountability:

Whether one calls it a failure of knowledge or a failure of courage, the result was the same: the genocide was not detected in a way that led to prevention. It was not “undetected” – numerous reports, from NGOs to independent media, documented what was happening – but it was willfully ignored. Politics undoubtedly played a role. For instance, the Sri Lankan government cleverly timed expulsions of NGOs and kept a tight lid on warzone media, so that by the time the world saw the full extent (through survivors and footage after May 2009), the deed was done. Political calculations (e.g., appeasing a Sri Lankan government that was allied in the war on terror, or India’s geopolitical interests in crushing the LTTE) meant that early warnings were not acted upon.

This brings us to the present and future. The Tamil people, having endured genocide, are determined that such mistakes will never be repeated. The phrase “Never Again” is not taken lightly – it is a solemn vow underscoring activism and education.

To make “Never Again” a reality, several measures are being pursued:

Documentation and Memory:

Tamils are aggressively documenting every massacre, every mass grave, every instance of persecution. They are building archives and memorials worldwide so that history cannot be rewritten or forgotten. For example, diaspora communities commemorate Mullivaikkal Remembrance Day annually, keeping global attention on the genocide. This constant remembrance is a shield against denial. As TGTE’s Rudrakumaran emphasized in May 2025, preserving the painful history of Mullivaikkal through lectures and monuments is “essential to prevent future genocide”.

Pursuit of Justice:

Even if Sri Lanka’s courts have failed, Tamils are taking the battle to international forums. Universal jurisdiction cases, UN committees, and international advocacy aim to hold perpetrators accountable. The recent UN Human Rights Council resolution to collect evidence (in place of a referred ICC case) is one example. The push to include genocide as a crime in Sri Lanka’s penal code is another suggestion to domestically acknowledge it. Though the political will for that is absent right now, raising the demand keeps the conversation alive.

Community Vigilance:

Within Sri Lanka, the Tamil community is staying alert to any signs of renewed repression. The concern is not hypothetical – even postwar, abuses continue (land grabs in Tamil areas, militarization, anti-Tamil rhetoric). The idea is to identify early any slide towards violence and to raise an international alarm sooner. Tamils also educate their youth about the 10 stages of genocide so that future generations can recognize and respond to emerging threats quickly, whether in Sri Lanka or elsewhere.

Political Solutions:

Some argue (like Rudrakumaran in his 2025 statement) that only a structural change – e.g. self-determination or an independent Tamil state – can truly guarantee no repeat of genocide. While that is a political argument, its core is the belief that without power sharing or autonomy, Tamils remain vulnerable to a Sinhala-majoritarian state that could again turn genocidal under certain conditions. Hence, the memory of genocide fuels Tamil political aspirations and unity.

Finally, introspection is happening: Tamil leaders and the diaspora also ask if they failed in any way to convey the seriousness of the situation to the world pre-2009. Understanding that truth-telling alone was not enough, they are now mastering the art of international advocacy – engaging foreign governments, media, and civil society more effectively. The global outcry in recent years (like calls for sanctions on Sri Lankan war criminals, travel bans such as the U.S. banning the wartime army chief) shows increased awareness.

In conclusion, the journey from Chemmani 1999 to Mullivaikkal 2009 to Chemmani 2025 is laden with tragedy but also lessons. The mass graves in Jaffna, once warnings unheeded, have become rallying points for truth and vigilance. The Tamil people and the international human rights community must scrutinize every past failure – from the stalled investigation in Chemmani to the silence during Mullivaikkal – to ensure that genocidal violence is recognized at inception and stopped.

“Never Again” is the guiding principle: never should a people have to dig up the bones of their loved one’s decades later and wonder why the world did not save them. To honour those lost at Chemmani, Duraiappah Stadium, Mirusuvil, Mullivaikkal and countless other sites, the commitment is to remember, to document, and to act early so that future generations of Tamils can live in peace, without the shadow of another genocide looming over them.

Wimal Navaratnam
Human Rights Activist
Email:Tamilolicxanada@gmail.com

Excavations at Sittupatthu (Chemmani) 2025 –Mass Grave Discoveries in Jaffna