By Colombo, March 8, 2025 – Three years after the Rajapaksa family’s dramatic exit from power amid Sri Lanka’s economic meltdown, the nation’s courts are gearing up for a historic showdown. Under President Anura Kumara Dissanayake’s National People’s Power (NPP) government, indictments are piling up against the once-dominant dynasty— Mahinda, Gotabaya, Basil, Namal, Yoshitha, and even matriarch Shiranthi “Desi Achchi” Rajapaksa—for alleged crimes ranging from economic sabotage to war atrocities. It’s a bold move to deliver on campaign promises of accountability, but the road to convictions is a gauntlet of judicial fragility, political backlash, and a ticking economic clock. Can justice prevail, or will the Rajapaksas slip through the cracks again?
The Allegations: A Litany of Power and Peril
The Rajapaksas’ alleged wrongdoings span decades, rooted in their near-monopoly on Sri Lankan politics. Here’s what they face:
Economic Mismanagement Leading to Crisis
Gotabaya, Mahinda, and Basil Rajapaksa were found culpable by the Supreme Court in 2023 for the 2022 economic collapse. Tax cuts in 2019 slashed revenue, a 2021 fertilizer ban tanked agriculture, and high-interest loans funded projects like the Hambantota Port, dubbed a “white elephant.” Inflation hit 70%, and shortages sparked mass protests.
Corruption and Nepotism
Gotabaya faced pre-presidency charges for misappropriating 33.9 million rupees on a parental memorial. Basil is accused of money laundering, while Mahinda’s era saw billions funneled into questionable infrastructure. Yoshitha Rajapaksa’s naval perks and Shiranthi’s alleged financial schemes add to the tally.
Human Rights Abuses and War Crimes
As President and Defense Secretary during the 2009 civil war’s end, Mahinda and Gotabaya are accused of overseeing extrajudicial killings and torture, with UN estimates of 40,000 Tamil civilian deaths. Lawsuits in the U.S. once targeted Gotabaya, though he denies involvement.
Authoritarianism and Erosion of Rule of Law
Mahinda’s 18th Amendment (2010) axed term limits, while Gotabaya’s 20th Amendment (2020) gutted oversight of police and judiciary. Critics allege they silenced dissent, with journalists killed or disappeared under their watch.
Political Victimization and Impunity
A 2020 Presidential Commission under Gotabaya probed alleged “victimization” of allies, seen as a bid to shield the family from earlier probes into murders and abductions during Mahinda’s tenure.
Namal Rajapaksa, the political heir, now faces his own corruption charges, tying the next generation to the family’s legacy of alleged misrule.
Can They Be Prosecuted? A Critical Look
Legal experts say the allegations vary widely in their prosecutability, hinging on evidence, jurisdiction, and political will.
Economic Mismanagement: The 2023 Supreme Court ruling offers a strong foundation—public records of tax cuts, loan agreements, and policy decisions are damning. “It’s rare to see such a clear paper trail,” says attorney Ruwanthi Perera. Prosecution under fiscal mismanagement or abuse of power laws could stick, though penalties might be limited to fines or bans unless direct embezzlement is proven. Success probability: High, but symbolic unless linked to corruption.
- Corruption and Nepotism: Evidence like bank records, witness testimonies, and past investigations (e.g., Gotabaya’s 2019 case) exists, but convictions have historically faltered—Basil’s 2015 dismissal is a precedent. International cooperation could bolster cases, especially for offshore assets, but Sri Lanka’s slow courts and Rajapaksa allies in the system pose risks. Success probability: Moderate, if forensic audits deliver.
- War Crimes and Human Rights: This is the toughest nut to crack. Domestic prosecution faces evidentiary hurdles—mass graves and witness accounts exist, but chain-of-command proof is murky. International pressure for ICC referral is unlikely to sway a Sinhalese-majority electorate protective of “war heroes.” Gotabaya’s U.S. lawsuits fizzled post-citizenship renunciation. Success probability: Low domestically, unless global leverage shifts.
- Authoritarianism: Proving intent to undermine democracy is legally tricky, despite clear constitutional changes. Suppression of dissent—like the 2009 Lasantha Wickrematunge murder—lacks direct links to the Rajapaksas in court-ready form. Success probability: Low, absent smoking-gun evidence.
- Impunity Efforts: The 2020 Commission’s bias is documented, but prosecuting it as obstruction of justice requires tying it to specific dropped cases, a complex task. Success probability: Moderate, if paired with broader corruption charges.
“The evidence is there, but the system isn’t,” warns Jayadeva Uyangoda, a political scientist. “Decades of Rajapaksa influence mean the judiciary’s spine is still in question.”
The Government’s Tightrope: Challenges Mount
For Dissanayake, elected in 2024 on an anti-corruption wave, the prosecutions are a defining test. But the challenges are steep. The judiciary, battered by Rajapaksa-era meddling, struggles with capacity and credibility. “We’re asking a weakened institution to take on its former masters,” Uyangoda notes. Case backlogs and potential loyalist judges could stall progress, as seen in past dismissals.
Politically, the Rajapaksas’ Sinhalese-Buddhist base remains a powder keg. Namal’s 2024 campaign showed their resilience—X posts laud him as a “future leader,” while others decry a “witch hunt.” A backlash could destabilize Dissanayake’s fragile coalition, especially in rural strongholds like Hambantota. “The government risks losing the south if it pushes too hard,” says analyst Nishan de Mel.
Resources are another bind. With GDP still recovering from a 7.8% drop in 2023, every rupee spent on trials competes with urgent needs—fuel, food, debt talks with China, a Rajapaksa ally. International calls for war crimes justice add pressure but could alienate Beijing, complicating economic aid. “It’s justice versus survival,” de Mel adds.
Success or Stalemate? The Verdict’s Out
So, how successful might this be? A best-case scenario sees convictions on economic and corruption charges within two years, leveraging the 2023 ruling and public outrage from 2022’s “Aragalaya” protests. “If Basil or Gotabaya go down, the dynasty crumbles,” Perera predicts. It could cripple the SLPP and signal a new era, boosting Dissanayake’s reform agenda and Western support.
But the odds are long. War crimes and authoritarianism charges are likely dead ends without radical judicial overhaul or global intervention—neither imminent. Corruption cases could snag on technicalities or delays, letting the Rajapaksas regroup. X chatter reflects the divide: “AKD’s finally doing it,” one user cheers, while another scoffs, “Same old circus, different clowns.” Public patience, already thin, may not endure delay.
A Nation Watches
As Sri Lanka marks Rajapaksas’ fall, the prosecutions are a high-stakes gamble. The allegations—economic ruin, graft, bloodshed—are a damning indictment, but turning them into convictions demands a judicial miracle in a system they helped break. For Dissanayake, it’s a chance to bury a dynasty and rebuild trust. For the Rajapaksas, it’s a fight to reclaim their narrative. For a weary nation, it’s a question of whether justice can finally outrun its ghosts—or if survival will trump it once more.
This revised feature weaves in the detailed allegations, critically assesses their legal viability, and frames the government’s challenges within Sri Lanka’s volatile political and economic context as of March 8, 2025. It balances optimism with realism, reflecting the complexity of prosecuting a still-influential family.
