It has been sixteen years since the guns fell silent in Sri Lanka’s north, marking the end of a devastating civil war between the Government of Sri Lanka and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). On 19 May 2025, the nation marked its sixteenth National War Heroes’ Day at the solemn National War Heroes’ Monument in Battaramulla. Unlike anniversaries marked by triumphalism, this year’s commemoration sought to offer a sober reflection on the costs of war, the fragility of peace, and the unfulfilled promise of reconciliation.
The President’s address departed from the usual rhetoric. In a poignant call to unity, he reminded the country that remembrance must be more than ceremony. The monument, he said, should not be a shrine to the past, but a living testament to peace. He acknowledged the shared grief of mothers in Jaffna and Matara alike, underscoring that pain transcends ethnicity. His speech appealed to the conscience of a fractured nation, calling for compassion, fraternity, and an unshakeable commitment to justice and human dignity.
Yet, even as official ceremonies called for unity, the Government of Sri Lanka found itself at diplomatic odds with Canada over a proposed “Tamil Genocide Monument” in Brampton, Ontario. In a strongly-worded statement, Sri Lanka objected to the project, urging Canada to reconsider a move it described as divisive and historically misleading.
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs stressed that such monuments risk undermining the delicate social fabric in Sri Lanka and fostering misunderstanding abroad. The government expressed concern that the project, backed by the Brampton City Council, could jeopardize the country’s efforts toward reconciliation and national integration. Instead of healing, it argued, the memorial could deepen ethnic divisions and distort the complex history of the conflict.
A Conflict Remembered
From 1983 to 2009, Sri Lanka was gripped by a conflict that claimed tens of thousands of lives. The final phase in May 2009 ended in a military victory for the state, but at a profound humanitarian cost. Allegations of war crimes during this period prompted calls for international accountability. In response, the United Nations engaged with the Sri Lankan government to chart a path forward. The joint statement issued in May 2009 and the subsequent release of the 2011 Panel of Experts report (known as the Darusman Report) formed a baseline for international scrutiny.
United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon’s visit to Sri Lanka in May 2009 was a pivotal moment. It represented a commitment to post-war engagement, and his tour of camps housing displaced Tamil civilians offered a stark visual of the toll of conflict. While the Sri Lankan state insisted on its sovereign right to defeat terrorism, the UN sought to place emphasis on justice, reconciliation, and inclusivity.
The joint statement released on 23 May 2009 included key commitments by the Sri Lankan government: a promise to uphold human rights, adhere to international law, and address community grievances. While the language was diplomatic, the implications were clear. There was an expectation of accountability, and the burden of post-war justice lay heavily on Sri Lanka.
Accountability and the Darusman Report
The Darusman Report, issued in March 2011, remains the most comprehensive international document examining the final stages of Sri Lanka’s war. Tasked not with investigating but advising, the panel nonetheless offered a scathing critique of both the LTTE and the Sri Lankan military. It suggested that government forces may have committed war crimes and crimes against humanity, and highlighted the scale of civilian deaths, forced disappearances, and denial of humanitarian aid.
Panel member Steven Ratner later clarified that the group did not conduct a legal investigation, but its findings had deep ramifications. They reignited global calls for independent inquiries and exposed the limitations of international diplomacy in the face of geopolitical resistance.
The report accused the Sri Lankan military of indiscriminately shelling civilian zones, hospitals, and UN sites, while also indicting the LTTE for using civilians as human shields and forcibly recruiting children. Its core message, however, was not just about violations, but about responsibility: that state sovereignty cannot excuse impunity, and that justice must be universally applied.
Global Implications
The lessons of Sri Lanka echo in today’s conflicts. In Gaza and Ukraine, where civilians bear the brunt of war, the failure to hold perpetrators accountable reinforces a dangerous precedent. The Darusman Report showed that selective enforcement of humanitarian law undermines its very essence. Inaction in Sri Lanka has emboldened aggressors elsewhere.
Indeed, the UN’s internal review led by Charles Petrie acknowledged its own institutional shortcomings. From Rwanda to Sri Lanka, the pattern is familiar: delayed responses, political paralysis, and the prioritization of diplomacy over justice. The gap between rhetoric and action continues to haunt the UN.
For institutions like the Human Rights Council and the International Criminal Court, Sri Lanka presents both a cautionary tale and a mandate for reform. If the international community fails to act consistently, the concept of international law risks becoming performative rather than protective.
A Question of Sovereignty
Sri Lanka has always resisted external pressure on accountability, framing it as an infringement on its sovereignty. The government rejected the Darusman Report outright, calling it biased and legally inconsequential. With support from allies like China, Russia, and India, Sri Lanka managed to stave off Security Council action.
Nevertheless, the report catalyzed global civil society, diaspora groups, and rights organizations. Subsequent UN resolutions mandated evidence preservation, monitoring mechanisms, and renewed calls for independent investigations. Domestic initiatives like the Lessons Learnt and Reconciliation Commission (LLRC), while symbolically important, were criticized for lacking teeth.
A Fragile Peace
Sixteen years on, Sri Lanka remains at a crossroads. The silence of peace masks unresolved tensions. Calls for reconciliation, though repeated, often ring hollow against the backdrop of stalled justice. The risk is not merely that the past is forgotten, but that it is misremembered.
To move forward, Sri Lanka must embrace a vision of justice that includes truth-telling, institutional reform, and community healing. Teachers, artists, and civic leaders must be empowered to tell stories that bridge divides. And international actors must move beyond symbolic gestures to meaningful engagement.
Conclusion: The Burden of Memory
The Darusman Report should not be viewed as a verdict, but as a mirror. It reflects what was lost—lives, trust, and moral clarity. Sixteen years later, Sri Lanka stands not condemned, but challenged: to write a new chapter rooted in truth, not silence.
As conflicts rage elsewhere, the world must remember that impunity anywhere endangers justice everywhere. If Sri Lanka is to offer a lesson, let it be that peace is not the absence of war, but the presence of justice. Only then can remembrance lead to reconciliation, and history to healing.
The Darusman Report Revisited
The most comprehensive articulation of global unease over the final months of Sri Lanka’s civil war is encapsulated in the United Nations Secretary-General’s Panel of Experts report on accountability, released on 31 March 2011. This seminal document commonly referred to as the Darusman Report after its lead author Marzuki Darusman (Indonesia), and co-authored by Steven Ratner (United States) and Yasmin Sooka (South Africa) was not a judicial inquiry but a strategic advisory panel. Its purpose was to explore pathways for accountability, and in doing so, it presented a sobering critique of the actions of both the LTTE and the Sri Lankan state. The gravity of its conclusions, especially those implicating government forces in conduct potentially amounting to war crimes and crimes against humanity, was unprecedented in post-war Sri Lanka.
The panel’s mandate was advisory by design. It lacked the authority to make binding legal findings. As Steven Ratner later explained in the American Journal of International Law (October 2012, Vol. 106, No. 4), the panel was created to circumvent political resistance to a full commission of inquiry. The UN Secretary-General had instead opted for a mechanism that would assess how Sri Lanka might fulfil its commitments, outlined in the joint communiqué of May 2009, to uphold international human rights norms and pursue post-war accountability.
The implications of this report extend beyond Sri Lanka. In Gaza, where infrastructure is decimated and civilian suffering is immense, the same patterns of diplomatic equivocation and selective outrage prevail. The lesson from Sri Lanka is clear: accountability cannot be contingent on global alliances. Moral clarity must replace geopolitical convenience. If the Darusman Report established that no sovereign state is immune from the rule of humanitarian law, then that principle must be applied equally to all, including current crises like Gaza.
Ukraine offers a contrasting yet equally compelling parallel. There, too, scorched earth strategies, mass displacements, and attacks on vital civilian infrastructure mirror some of the grave violations detailed in the Darusman Report. Despite faster international responses including ICC involvement and sanctions—there remains the peril of double standards. Justice must not only be timely but also consistent. The Darusman legacy warns against selective enforcement based on strategic relevance.
It is within this broader context that the UN must confront its own institutional limitations. The internal review led by Charles Petrie following the Sri Lanka war exposed fundamental failures in early warning systems, political resolve, and operational engagement. If the UN is to avoid similar missteps in current theaters of war, from Gaza to Ukraine, it must ensure that its field operations prioritize truth, protection, and credible diplomacy over mere presence.
This need for systemic introspection aligns with a broader principle that spans not only armed conflict but also international law more broadly. As I have often reflected in my work on air law, technical neutrality does not absolve institutions from ethical responsibility. Whether governing aviation or warfare, the same axiom applies: power must be accountable, and law must be enforceable.
The Darusman Report’s teleological thrust lies in this credo justice must not only exist, it must be visible. It must take shape through independent mechanisms, meaningful access to affected populations, and the deployment of robust international legal instruments. The absence of such structures in the Sri Lankan case did not merely delay justice; it demoralized victims and emboldened future violators. When states and institutions fail to act decisively, they send a dangerous message: that the world is willing to forget.
Thus, for stakeholders in ongoing crises, the Darusman Report serves as more than historical documentation. It is a living reminder of what inaction permits. To military actors in Gaza and Ukraine, the message is this: force without moral constraint is a transient victory. History judges not just the vanquished, but the indifferent.
To the broader international community, the appeal must be for unwavering consistency. Justice cannot be conditional. And to the United Nations, there is a moral imperative to return to its founding vision where peace means more than the cessation of war; it means the active presence of justice.
In a conflict-ridden world, the lessons of Sri Lanka remain as pertinent as ever. The Darusman Report should not fade into bureaucratic archives. It must endure as a reference point for institutional accountability, a benchmark against impunity, and a catalyst for reform.
Steven Ratner’s own reflection within the Darusman framework reinforces this ethos: serious allegations were included only when there existed a “reasonable basis to believe” they occurred. This cautious yet credible approach gives the report its enduring weight.
The report’s findings are grim. Between January and May 2009, it alleges that tens of thousands of Tamil civilians were killed due to indiscriminate shelling by the Sri Lankan Armed Forces on designated No Fire Zones, hospitals, and even UN facilities. It accuses the government of deliberately obstructing humanitarian aid, thereby exacerbating civilian suffering. The LTTE is also indicted for conscripting children, using civilians as shields, and executing escapees. But the core indictment remains focused on the disproportionate and deliberate use of force by government forces—actions warranting independent international investigation.
Beyond its catalogue of abuses, the report articulates a philosophical stance on sovereignty. It asserts that statehood does not exempt a nation from international scrutiny when systemic violence is perpetrated against its own people. This embodies the doctrine of the “Responsibility to Protect” (R2P), a commitment by UN member states in 2005 affirming that sovereignty entails responsibility.
However, the report also highlights how UN structures often fall short in enforcing these principles. It recounts the institutional paralysis that allowed mass atrocities in Sri Lanka to occur under international watch—a tragic echo of earlier failures in Rwanda and Srebrenica. Bureaucratic inertia, political caution, and structural inefficiencies were again revealed as fatal weaknesses.
Among its recommendations, the report calls for an independent international body to investigate alleged violations, track domestic justice mechanisms, and compile a comprehensive mapping of conflict-related abuses. It urges a review of UN performance during the war’s final phase, a human rights screening mechanism for all future UN engagement in Sri Lanka, and robust witness protection systems. It also recommends a re-evaluation of the Human Rights Council’s May 2009 resolution that commended Sri Lanka a gesture now viewed as tragically premature.
The Sri Lankan government flatly rejected the report, denouncing it as an internal UN memo without legal standing and portraying it as an affront to national sovereignty. It rallied international allies including China, Russia, and India to forestall formal adoption by UN bodies. This diplomatic counteroffensive revealed how realpolitik often outweighs moral obligation within multilateral institutions.
Nonetheless, the report galvanized international civil society, advocacy networks, and Tamil diaspora groups. It served as a foundation for future Human Rights Council resolutions, culminating in the 2021 mandate for the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights to collect and preserve evidence of serious violations.
Despite these developments, justice remains elusive. Sri Lanka’s domestic mechanisms, such as the Lessons Learnt and Reconciliation Commission (LLRC), have faced severe criticism for lacking independence and victim-oriented approaches. The UN’s own review panel, led by Petrie, ultimately conceded in 2012 that the Organization had failed in its humanitarian duty.
This chasm—between established norms and actionable outcomes exposes the limits of the UN’s authority. While it can set moral and legal standards, its enforcement capacity remains constrained by the political will of member states.
Still, bearing witness matters. Even when formal justice is stalled, recording atrocities helps preserve historical truth. The Darusman Report, with its meticulous documentation and unwavering tone, remains a testament to the necessity of memory. It is a bulwark against denialism and revisionism.
If the UN and its member states are serious about building a more humane international order, they must treat the Sri Lankan experience not as a concluded chapter but as an ongoing case study. Justice cannot be deferred indefinitely. Accountability must be proactive, not reactive. And sovereignty must be redefined not as a license to impunity, but as a mandate to protect.
In the balance between power and principle, it is the latter that must ultimately endure.
Govt Reaction and Diplomatic Stance
The Government of Sri Lanka unequivocally rejected the Darusman Report in its entirety, branding it an internal advisory document lacking legal standing and denouncing it as an affront to national sovereignty. With strategic diplomatic effort, Sri Lanka successfully lobbied against the report’s adoption by the United Nations Security Council and the Human Rights Council. This outcome underscores how global human rights agendas are frequently overshadowed by geopolitical interests. Nations like India, China, and Russia, all skeptical of external interventions in domestic affairs, offered implicit or explicit backing to Sri Lanka, thereby curtailing international institutional responses.
Nevertheless, the report catalyzed a surge in advocacy across international civil society, diaspora organizations, and human rights groups. These entities used it as a foundational reference point to intensify demands for justice and accountability. Over time, successive Human Rights Council resolutions reinforced these concerns, most notably the 2021 resolution (A/HRC/46/1), which empowered the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights to gather, consolidate, and preserve evidence of serious human rights and humanitarian law violations committed in Sri Lanka.
Despite such international moves, tangible accountability within Sri Lanka has remained elusive. Domestic accountability frameworks such as the Lessons Learnt and Reconciliation Commission (LLRC) and its follow-up mechanisms have consistently faced criticism for lacking independence, legal authority, and meaningful engagement with victims. Even the UN’s own assessment, via an Internal Review Panel chaired by Charles Petrie in 2012, conceded that the organization had failed in its mandate during the war’s closing chapter, calling it a significant institutional lapse.
The Role of the International Community
It is within this gap between moral pronouncement and enforceable justice—that the limitations of the UN’s presence in Sri Lanka are laid bare. The Organization can generate normative frameworks and spotlight abuses, but it lacks the coercive instruments to enforce them when geopolitical dynamics interfere. This reality highlights an uncomfortable truth: in the international order, justice often yields to power politics.
Yet, in a world increasingly marked by state and non-state impunity, bearing witness becomes a moral imperative. The imperfect yet enduring contributions of the UN have ensured that the suffering endured in Sri Lanka remains etched in the global memory. The Darusman Report, for all its limitations, has asserted a counter-narrative to official state versions and has functioned as a bulwark against historical erasure.
For this reason, the international community especially the UN must rethink accountability not just as retrospective action following atrocities, but as part of a forward-looking structure that deters future violations. This includes embedding justice at the core of post-conflict reconstruction and elevating victim-centered approaches. The Sri Lankan experience underscores the moral test of our age: whether justice can triumph over state-centric pragmatism and whether the world’s conscience can endure the weight of sovereignty’s shadow.
Reflections from a Citizen’s Standpoint
From the viewpoint of a concerned citizen, Sri Lanka’s post-war trajectory and the international discourse surrounding the Darusman Report serve as a critical benchmark in understanding the challenges of modern global governance. In a world currently embroiled in multiple conflicts from Gaza to Ukraine Sri Lanka’s experience stands as a stark reminder of the consequences when power eclipses principle.
The Darusman Report, controversial as it may be, exposed a deeper truth: justice without enforcement is meaningless. When military triumph is achieved through the disregard of civilian protection, and when the shield of sovereignty is used to justify systemic abuse, the credibility of the international legal order begins to unravel.
The parallels with Gaza are unmistakable. Disproportionate force, the targeting of civilian infrastructure, and obstruction of humanitarian relief all mirror the patterns documented in Sri Lanka. The invocation of counterterrorism narratives to rationalize indiscriminate violence, while downplaying the suffering of civilians, reflects a dangerous global trend.
In Ukraine as well, selective enforcement of international law is evident. The delayed and inconsistent response to flagrant violations illustrates the perils of allowing realpolitik to define the boundaries of justice. The Darusman Report underscores the necessity for accountability mechanisms that operate on consistent, principled foundations rather than strategic convenience.
The most profound contribution of the report lies not only in its list of allegations but in its insistence on ethical clarity: truth must be told even when justice is deferred. Sovereignty, while foundational, must not be treated as a license for impunity. International norms must remain enforceable, or they risk becoming symbolic rather than substantive.
The report continues to stand as a bulwark against denialism. Its content serves as a powerful counter-narrative to state-sponsored histories and as a guide for civil society, institutions, and global observers who seek to prevent future atrocities.
In a global environment where impunity is on the rise and multilateralism often falters, Sri Lanka’s unresolved past presents a living lesson. The Darusman Report should not be consigned to bureaucratic obscurity. It must remain a critical reference point for decision-makers, diplomats, and human rights advocates a document that demands memory, justice, and transformation.
Let there be no forgetting. Let there be no repetition. Let there, finally, be accountability.
SOURCE :- SRI LANKA GUARDIAN
