How Sri Lanka’s 1988–89 Uprising Created a Collective Trauma

 

 

 Dr Ruwan M Jayatunge, M.D. PhD 

The 1987–1989 (JVP) insurrection—widely remembered in Sri Lanka as the Era of Terror- was a brutal conflict between the JVP rebels and the Sri Lankan state. Historians and human rights organizations estimate that between 40,000 and 60,000 people were killed or forcibly disappeared across the southern, central, and western parts of the island, leaving a deep, lasting collective trauma.

The 1987–1989 uprising in Sri Lanka arose from authoritarian repression, youth unemployment, and Sinhalese nationalist opposition to the Indo-Lanka Accord. Although the 1987 agreement with India was the immediate catalyst, longstanding inequality and political exclusion had already created deep resentment.

After the anti-Tamil violence of Black July in 1983, the UNP government wrongly accused and banned the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) and other leftist parties. Driven underground, the JVP abandoned democratic politics and began preparing for armed struggle.

There were many push factors for the rebellion. The post-1977 shift to an open-market economy boosted urban business growth but widened economic disparities and weakened welfare protections rural families depended on. Meanwhile, free education produced many Sinhala-speaking rural graduates, but white-collar employment remained limited and disproportionately accessible to English-speaking urban elites.

Recruits often came from lower-middle-class rural families and marginalized castes in the southern provinces, where economic hardship, caste oppression, and exclusion from political power restricted prospects for social mobility.

Young people joined the 1987–1989 uprising in pursuit of social justice, patriotic purpose, and belonging in a system that excluded them. For many educated, rural, and lower-middle-class youths, the JVP offered an explanation for their hardships and a mission to transform the country. Its promise to challenge class and caste barriers resonated with rural and marginalized communities who felt dismissed by Colombo’s wealthy, English-speaking elite.

After Indian troops arrived in 1987, the JVP increasingly framed resistance as a patriotic struggle to defend Sri Lanka from foreign intervention and division. Anger over corruption and state repression also fueled support, while songs, pamphlets, and stories of figures such as Che Guevara and the 1971 insurgents celebrated discipline, sacrifice, and martyrdom as heroic acts.

The rebels acted with vengeance and assassinated thousands of people, many of them unnamed, including junior government officials, local Grama Niladharis (village grassroots government officers), teachers, school principals, clergy members, and people holding a range of political beliefs. They also targeted former members who had left the movement.

The killings were often exceptionally brutal, and victims were humiliated and tortured before being killed, sometimes in front of their families. The dead bodies were mutilated.

Through threats of death, the rebels imposed strict curfews and strikes that brought public transport, businesses, schools, and universities to a halt. Rebel leaders recruited schoolchildren as child soldiers, while members and supporters carried out murders, arson, and robberies. Some university students took part in violent operations, including shooting people, transporting explosives, and attacking army camps to seize weapons.

Government buildings, buses, and electrical transformers were destroyed. The rebels also established kangaroo courts, which sentenced and killed many people, including intellectuals such as Professor Chandratne Patuwathavithane and Professor Stanley Wijesundera. As violence and intimidation spread, ordinary life became increasingly paralyzed, and the public endured prolonged fear and terror.

In mid-1989, the JVP issued ultimatums threatening to execute security personnel’s family members unless the forces resigned, prompting a sharp escalation in state retaliation. The government granted security forces sweeping powers under Emergency Regulations and the Prevention of Terrorism Act, including detention without trial and the disposal of bodies without inquests.

Alongside the military and police, state-backed death squads—including the Black Cats, Yellow Cats, and Eagles of the Central Hills—operated with impunity. Security forces also used captured rebels, known as “Goni Billas,” to identify and arrest their former comrades. Detention and torture sites such as Eliyakanda, Yataro Cafeteria, and Batalanda became notorious, and many detainees died during interrogation.

The 1987–1989 JVP insurrection inflicted massive social and economic damage on Sri Lanka, bringing economic growth to a near standstill (dropping to 1.5% in 1987 and 2.3% in 1989).  During the 1987–1989 JVP insurrection, historians, human rights organizations, and international observers estimate that 40,000 to 60,000 people were killed or forcibly disappeared. Combined with the simultaneous civil war in the north and east, the southern uprising crippled public infrastructure, triggered widespread brain drain, and fractured rural communities for decades.

Sri Lanka’s 1987–1989 terror period inflicted profound collective trauma as extreme public violence invaded everyday life, turning neighbours against one another and denying families the right to mourn. Unlike a distant battlefield conflict, violence unfolded in homes, schools, and village streets, leaving psychological wounds that have endured across generations.

Both sides used brutality as psychological warfare: bodies burned on roadside tires, severed heads displayed near university campuses, and corpses carried down rivers became familiar sights. Social trust collapsed as neighbours informed on one another, sometimes to settle personal scores, while fear silenced communities, the media, and civic institutions. Commissions established in the 1990s documented more than 16,700 verified disappearances. Although some families later received compensation and death certificates, few perpetrators were prosecuted, leaving grief unresolved and deepening distrust in state institutions.

Rebels involved in the 1988–89 uprising committed grave atrocities, including killings, beheadings, mutilation of the dead, property destruction, looting, rape and, in some cases, betraying comrades during interrogation. Many survivors received no psychological support and now live in isolation, concealing their past. Some fled to Western countries and built comfortable lives under capitalist democracies. 

Former rebels who recount their past experiences often conceal or alter details, and some may even provide false accounts. As a result, only a small number share stories that appear to reflect what truly happened. Many former rebels continue to experience serious psychological challenges, including post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, substance dependence, and other mental health conditions. In some cases, these difficulties have not been identified or diagnosed, leaving individuals without access to appropriate treatment and support.

Members of the security forces who helped suppress the uprising experienced severe psychological trauma. Some participated in torturing or killing rebels, while others witnessed acts of brutality that exceeded the limits of ordinary human experience. Despite the psychological toll on those involved, the government had no system for providing mental health support to its own personnel. Many who took part in the crackdown suffered from moral injury, complex post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, addiction, and somatic symptoms. In some cases, the trauma became so overwhelming that individuals died by suicide.

The 1988–89 period was a collective trauma for Sri Lankans. The rebels, the security personnel who suppressed the uprising, and members of the general public who witnessed the violence were all psychologically affected by what they experienced. The suffering extended beyond those directly involved, profoundly affecting victims’ families and loved ones. Its impact has also endured across generations, while the psychological wounds left by this period remain largely untreated and unhealed.

Unfortunately, no meaningful reconciliation within the healing system followed the collective trauma of 1988–89. Those who took part in the uprising also failed to demonstrate a genuine commitment to ensuring that such events would not recur in our society. Instead, some have concealed or distorted the truth, while others have romanticized the uprising. These responses cannot heal the collective trauma that continues to affect Sri Lankan society. Honest acknowledgment of what happened, admission of mistakes, and concrete measures to prevent similar human-made disasters in the future are essential.