On 19 December 2000, eight internally displaced persons were arrested in Mirusuvil, located about 16 miles east of Jaffna town. Within hours, all eight were murdered, allegedly by Sri Lankan Army soldiers, and buried in a mass grave. 

The case was taken up at the Chavakachcheri Magistrate’s Court in December 2000, and fourteen army personnel were taken into custody. It seemed, initially, that there would be accountability, but this was only the beginning of a legal battle that would stretch across two decades.

The legal battle

The case moved through Sri Lanka’s judicial system glacially. Fourteen army personnel were arrested, and the case bounced between courts for over a decade. The trial faced a significant setback when Judge Sarath Ambepitya, who was hearing the case, was murdered in 2004. The inquiry was suspended indefinitely.

When proceedings eventually resumed in 2005 with a new bench, years more would pass. It took until June 2015, fifteen years after the massacre, for Army Sergeant Sunil Rathnayake to be convicted and sentenced to death.

On March 6, 2020, news emerged that Rathnayake would be pardoned. Twenty days later, President Gotabaya signed his pardon, and he was unincarcerated.  This disheartened many, as the conviction, which took 15 years to secure, was nullified in less than 5 years. 

Current status 

The pardon sparked immediate legal challenges. The Centre for Policy Alternatives (CPA) immediately challenged the pardon in court, arguing it violated the constitutional rights of the victims’ families. But this legal battle has been ongoing for over four years now.

Judges who had previously been involved in Rathnayake’s case recused themselves. Court dates were repeatedly postponed. Finally, in October 2023, the Supreme Court agreed to hear the challenge.

As of March 2025, Rathnayake has been banned from leaving Sri Lanka while the court considers the case. All parties had been given eight weeks to submit statements; however, the final judgement is still pending.

The Mirusuvil massacre isn’t an isolated incident. Sri Lanka’s civil war left thousands dead and countless families without answers or justice. But this case is different; there was a trial and a conviction.  There was, briefly, accountability. It raises an uncomfortable question: if documented massacres with convictions can be pardoned, what hope exists for the countless atrocities that were never even investigated?