Thursday Aug 21, 2025
Thursday Aug 21, 2025
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To now propose a National Policy on Reconciliation under these circumstances is not just a farce. It is offensive
Reconciliation cannot be the default language of post-conflict engagement when conflict has not ended, only rebranded. When territory remains militarised, when justice remains denied, and when truth remains buried, the promotion of reconciliation becomes not just ineffective – it becomes coercive. From the very beginning of Tamil political movements, the demand of the Tamil people has never been reconciliation (although often deeply desired).
By J. Navaratnam
On 4 August 2025, the Cabinet of Ministers approved the development of a new National Policy and Action Plan on Reconciliation and Co-Existence, to be led by the Office for National Unity and Reconciliation (ONUR) under the Ministry of Justice.
If such a policy is eventually adopted, it will follow the 2017 National Policy on Reconciliation and Co-existence. That policy was framed around inclusivity and healing, while avoiding the foundational causes of conflict – impunity for mass atrocities, centralised authoritarianism, Sinhala-Buddhist nationalism, and the denial of Tamil autonomy. It offered no acknowledgement of State culpability, no structural reform, and no response to long-standing Tamil political claims.
And still, or perhaps – thus, it failed miserably. One would be hard pressed to argue that Sri Lanka is any closer to genuine inter-communal unity.
No one answered for the failures of that policy – in formulation, and in the implementation of the weak measures proposed.
Yet here we are again – facing another unilateral initiative, crafted in the same vein, wasting yet more time, and destined to repeat the same erasures.
Such a policy has never been requested by Tamil political parties, and it is certainly not a demand today. Nor – and more importantly – has an ask for such a policy ever been articulated by Tamil communities. (For that matter, one struggles to recall such a demand from any community in Sri Lanka.)
No recognition of mass killings of Tamil civilians
At the time of writing, the new Sri Lankan Government has issued no official statement on the Chemmani mass graves which, at the time of writing, have revealed the remains of at least 147 people, including children and infants. No recognition of the mass killings, rape, disappearance, and displacement of Tamil civilians during the armed conflict has been made – let alone action toward accountability.
Reforms such as the repeal of the Prevention of Terrorism Act – an explicit commitment of this Government and one that could be readily passed in Parliament – have been openly dismissed by several of its own members. Instead, the OHCHR’s 2025 report records 49 arrests under the PTA in 2025 alone. Meanwhile, active surveillance and harassment of Tamil protest movements and media have persisted, including repeated summonses issued by the Terrorism Investigation Department. There has been no confirmed timeline on Provincial Council elections which have been overdue since 2019, and are a fundamental marker of the devolution of power to minority communities.
To now propose a National Policy on Reconciliation under these circumstances is not just a farce. It is offensive.
Its only apparent purpose would be to manage optics, to reaffirm the State’s narrative of benevolent unity, and to stall a renewed strong Resolution on Sri Lanka at the upcoming meeting of the UN Human Rights Council.
That, perhaps, is the greatest offence.
In the post-conflict years, Sri Lanka’s reconciliation and peace policy frameworks have been weak. Judged on substance alone, the proposed policy would merit little attention. What is truly reprehensible is the political theatre surrounding it.
Its development will take months at best (and, if history is a guide, years) under the pretext of “consultation” and careful drafting. In the interim, the Government will insist it is “waiting on the policy” to ensure streamlined, sequenced action in line with so-called best practices and official approval. Funding or endorsement will likely come from an international agency or partner, lending it a veneer of legitimacy.
Communities and activists will be invited to consultations, but their recommendations will scarcely appear in the final text. Most sessions will be held in Colombo, dominated by voices of the ethno-religious majority and the elite. Meanwhile, at every international forum where Sri Lanka is challenged on human rights or post-conflict accountability, the Government will point to the policy’s drafting as proof of its commitment to ‘reconciliation’ while violations and repression of minorities continue unchecked.
This is not reconciliation. It is containment.
The demand has been liberation. Equality. The freedom to define how the Tamil polity will engage with other communities and the State
Against the imposed narrative of reconciliation
When reconciliation is positioned as the goal, it is always worth asking – who defined that goal?
The forced use of “reconciliation” is an imposed closure, stemming from – or acceptable to – majoritarian power. It is not a healing of wounds, but a forced attempt at stitching shut before the injury has even been acknowledged. It is a declaration that the future has already been decided, and that any attempt to articulate an alternative is unacceptable.
Reconciliation, as framed by the State, has never been about justice or mutual respect or freedom. It is about assimilation into a Sinhala-Buddhist militarised state that has never accepted Tamil political identity, autonomy, or equality. It is the performance of peace without its substance.
Reconciliation cannot be the default language of post-conflict engagement when conflict has not ended, only rebranded. When territory remains militarised, when justice remains denied, and when truth remains buried, the promotion of reconciliation becomes not just ineffective – it becomes coercive.
From the very beginning of Tamil political movements, the demand of the Tamil people has never been reconciliation (although often deeply desired).
The demand has been liberation. Equality. The freedom to define how the Tamil polity will engage with other communities and the State.
If there is truly energy to be channelled towards reconciliation, let it be redirected towards:
These actions require no new policy framework.
They only require basic morality, and political will.
Anyone serious about peace and human rights in Sri Lanka must stop prescribing reconciliation as an end.
If reconciliation is to mean anything beyond performance, it cannot be imposed or predetermined. It cannot be dictated or curated by governments or global institutions. It must be asked for – with humility, and with a demonstrated commitment to reform, justice, freedom, and reparation. And it must be given, freely and individually, by those who have experienced violence and violations, if and when they are ready.
In the meantime, this so-called reconciliation policy will be exactly what it appears to be: Unethical. Unwelcome. Utterly ineffective.
(In the interest of transparency, this name is a pseudonym.)
