Experience from around the world has shown that reburial can heal or harm. At Chemmani in Sri Lanka’s Tamil-dominated Jaffna peninsula, the choices made now by the Anura Kumara Dissanayake government will determine whether this mass grave site will lead to reconciliation or yet another battlefield in Sri Lanka’s long history of communal strife.
The mass grave at Chemmani drew attention after construction workers uncovered bone fragments in February 2025. But this is not the first time that mass grave sites have been found in the area.
In 1998, during a trial for the rape and murder of schoolgirl Krishanthi Kumaraswamy, a convicted soldier claimed that 300-400 bodies were buried in Chemmani. Following the testimony, authorities recovered 15 bodies in 1999, then momentum faded as the priorities of the Chandrika Bandaranaike government changed.
The Chemmani grave site has received renewed attention since February, and officials reported finding around 90 skeletons in the area by late July.
The Dissanayake government has taken a slow but systematic approach to excavation. It placed Professor Raj Somadeva, a senior archaeologist and expert in mass grave excavations in charge, supported by University of Jaffna students, judicial medical officers, and the Office on Missing Persons (OMP). The government says it wants transparency and thoroughness.
As Dr. George I. H. Cooke, executive director of the Colombo-based Regional Center for Strategic Studies, told The Diplomat, “Proactive steps are absolutely vital in order to address the situation. Unlike in the past, this administration has an opportunity to prove its difference in dealing with such a sensitive matter by conducting a thorough investigation in Sri Lanka.”
He added that while continued excavations can lead to new discoveries that may lead to more allegations, it is important for the administration to show its commitment to investigating the truth behind these claims. “This commitment, conveyed through the appointment of a Presidential Commission, and/or key investigators, and also a timeline, would be received well. Such proactive measures convey genuineness and would be the correct steps towards the final healing of wounds that have been festering for decades,” Cooke said.
For Sri Lankans, mass graves are symbols of both loss and failed accountability.
In the early 1990s, President Chandrika Bandaranaike, who defeated the United National Party (UNP) after 17 years of autocratic rule, promised to investigate the mass grave sites in the South and punish the perpetrators. These graves were related to an orgy of violence that government hit squads unleashed in the late 1980s on suspected Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) sympathizers.
In the past few decades, Sri Lankan authorities have examined a number of mass grave sites in both the North and the South, only to see investigations stall, evidence disperse, and families left in limbo. That cycle has turned these sites into weapons in the hands of politicians and agitators.
The desire to claim ownership of grief is pervasive in divided societies. Memorials and mass graves can quickly become markers of ethnic territory, hardening rather than reducing differences. The Balkans are an apt example of this.
Diana B. Kontsevaia’s work on Srebrenica shows that reburial and memorials can only deliver closure when done inclusively. But when dominated by a language or symbols unique to a particular group, and exclusionary rituals, these sites cease to be places for private mourning or public education. They then serve to deepen divisions and perpetuate cycles of suspicion and resentment.
Chemmani is located in a region where Tamils are the dominant population. It is also an area that suffered terribly due to the civil war (1983-2009). Tamil political parties and diaspora activists often claim that these are their homelands, a claim made to trigger a reaction from Sinhalese nationalist groups. The result is a zero-sum conflict where these sites turn into weapons for ethnic or political gain and spaces for partisan performance.
There is a lot to learn from the experience of Bosnia. As sociologist Larry Ray and Kontsevaia have shown, what comes after exhumation matters as much as the act itself. Sri Lanka has already seen what happens when mass graves are mishandled. In Mannar and Suriyakanda, investigations began with promise but faltered amid bureaucratic inertia and legal delays. Families were left in limbo, the state’s credibility eroded, and space was created for extremist narratives to take root.
What Chemmani needs now is not just scientific rigor but moral clarity. The government must ensure that excavations are thorough, transparent, and free from political interference. The state must also avoid ceremonies that are tokenistic or exclusionary. Memorials, if created, should embrace abstraction, honoring the unknown and the not yet identified, in a way that invites all communities to grieve together, rather than carving out territory for one group alone. If the Dissanayake government handles the Chemmani mass grave issue with care and honesty, reburial can mark the beginning of a process that helps Sri Lanka heal.