In a move that has reignited one of Sri Lanka’s most contentious political debates, the JVP-led National People’s Power (NPP) government last week tabled the Batalanda Commission report in Parliament, thrusting a dark chapter of the nation’s history back into the spotlight. The report, originally compiled in 1998, details allegations of torture, illegal detention, and extra-judicial killings at the Batalanda Housing Scheme during the late 1980s, a period marked by the violent suppression of the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) insurrection.
Its presentation on 14 March 2025 by Leader of the House Bimal Rathnayake has sparked a mix of hope, scepticism, and outrage, as observers question whether this is a genuine attempt to deliver justice or merely a political manoeuvre ahead of by-elections.
The report was tabled following an interview with former President Ranil Wickremesinghe on the Doha-based television channel Al Jazeera, where he was questioned about torture allegations during that period, Wickremesinghe—who served as Minister of Industries in President Ranasinghe Premadasa’s government and was accused of enabling the so-called “torture camp”—denied any wrongdoing.
Wickremesinghe argued that the report lacked legal standing as it had not been tabled in Parliament. In response, the government presented the report—which was already in the public domain—while pledging to submit all 28 unpublished volumes, comprising nearly 7,000 pages, to the House.
The Batalanda Commission was established under the Commissions of Inquiry Act No. 17 of 1948 by then-President Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga to investigate claims of state-sponsored brutality between 1988 and 1990. The housing complex in Gampaha, near Colombo, allegedly served as a detention centre where suspected JVP members were tortured and killed by government forces. The report implicates several figures, including former President Ranil Wickremesinghe, who was a minister at the time and has long faced accusations of enabling the operation—claims he vehemently denies.
Speaking after tabling the report, Rathnayake announced that it would be forwarded to the Attorney General for review and that a two-day parliamentary debate would follow in April and May. Yet, for many Sri Lankans, this development raises more questions than answers. The report’s re-emergence—prompted in part by Wickremesinghe’s recent Al Jazeera interview, where he dismissed its significance—has fuelled a broader conversation about accountability, justice, and the rule of law in a country still grappling with its violent past.
A Legal Quagmire
Legal experts point out that tabling the report in Parliament achieves little in terms of concrete action against those implicated. The Batalanda Commission, appointed under the 1948 Act, lacks the authority to recommend the revocation of civic rights—a power reserved for commissions established under the Special Presidential Commissions of Inquiry Act No. 07 of 1978. Under Article 81 of Sri Lanka’s Constitution, citizenship can only be stripped following a commission’s recommendation, gazetted by the government, approved by Cabinet, and passed by a two-thirds parliamentary majority—a process that concludes with the Speaker’s signature.
For Wickremesinghe, whose name looms large in the Batalanda narrative, this means his civic rights remain intact unless President Anura Kumara Dissanayake initiates a new commission under the 1978 Act. Without such a step, the government’s move is toothless.
“Presenting this report now is a symbolic gesture at best. It wastes parliamentary time and serves as little more than election-season propaganda unless there’s a clear legal follow-through.”
Wickremesinghe, for his part, has dismissed the report as politically motivated. In a statement on 16 March, he asserted, “I wholly reject the report. It was published as a sessional paper in 2000, yet no one, including the JVP, called for a debate.” He argued that there is no precedent, in Sri Lanka or elsewhere, for debating a 25-year-old commission report, accusing the government of dredging up the past for political gain.
A Cry for Justice
For victims and their families, however, the tabling of the report is a long-overdue acknowledgement of their suffering. The Batalanda period saw widespread human rights abuses, with the commission documenting torture chambers and mass graves. Survivors like Earl Sugi Perera, who testified to being tortured in House B8 of the complex, have called for justice that goes beyond symbolism. “The criminals should be punished,” says Priyani Wijesinghe, whose brother disappeared in 1989. “Debating this in Parliament isn’t enough—there must be investigations, prosecutions, and compensation.”
The Frontline Socialist Party (FSP) echoed this sentiment at a rally in Anuradhapura, demanding the immediate arrest of those responsible. FSP Education Secretary Pubudu Jagoda argued that murder has no statute of limitations, pressing the government to act decisively. Yet, the JVP—now a key player in the ruling National People’s Power (NPP) coalition—faces its own scrutiny. The report also details the group’s reign of terror during the insurgency, accusing it of targeting civilians and sabotaging the state. This duality has led some to label the debate a “battle of sinners,” with neither side emerging unscathed.
Political Theatre or Reform?
To deliver meaningful justice the government must go further: send the report to the Criminal Investigation Department for fresh probes, file charges in the High Court, and compensate victims. Beyond that, legal and social reforms are needed to prevent such abuses from recurring—a tall order for a nation where impunity has long been the norm. Human rights advocates, including Kishali Pinto-Jayawardena, see potential in the Attorney General’s review but caution that meeting the criminal law’s evidentiary standards will be challenging.
“Will that [parliamentary] debate be used for political capital by the government? That will only continue an entrenched pattern of politicised use of Commissions of Inquiry reports. On the other hand, if we talk of ‘JVP terrorism’ and ‘state terrorism’, this debate should include other Commissions of Inquiry reports that comprehensively dealt with state and counter-state terror from the north to the south during the 1980s”, she has told the Indian newspaper The Hindu.
The tabling of the Batalanda report comes as Sri Lanka navigates economic recovery and political transition under Dissanayake’s presidency. For some, it’s a chance to confront the ghosts of the past; for others, a distraction from pressing issues like governance reform and economic stability. As Parliament prepares for its debate, the question remains: will this be a turning point for accountability, or just another chapter in the country’s cycle of unresolved trauma?