-By LeN Intelligence Correspondent
(Lanka-e-News -09.July.2025, 9.10 PM)
The summons was unexpected but unmistakably cordial. It came on crisp government stationery, bearing the emblem of the Ministry of Public Security. Sarath Weerasekera, newly sworn in as the Minister in charge of police, wanted a private meeting. The subject line merely read: Confidential: Strategic Discussion.
The meeting took place inside the belly of the beast—his office, a cold, sterile room tucked deep within the Ministry. The windows were sealed, the phones disabled for the hour. We sat opposite each other, with nothing but a glass of water between us and a conversation that would stretch the limits of official discretion.
The Minister was not in uniform, but the weight of it hung invisibly over his shoulders. His gaze was sharp, his tone deceptively casual. "Tell me," he asked, as if we were discussing a mutual acquaintance, "what really happened to Sara after the Easter attacks?"
It was a name few in the public would recognise, but within intelligence circles, "Sara" had long been a ghost in the system—a quiet operator, present in whispers around the periphery of the 2019 Easter Sunday attacks in Sri Lanka.
I answered the Minister carefully. "She’s in India now."
It wasn’t hearsay. I had seen the proof myself—documents, images, fragments of communication logs. But I couldn’t offer these in public. Not in a report. Not in a court of law. And certainly not in this meeting, which bore the hallmarks of an unofficial fishing expedition.
Weerasekera leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together. He didn’t ask for the evidence. He simply nodded, as though the pieces of a larger puzzle had shifted into place.
Roughly a year passed after that cryptic conversation. By then, the political winds had shifted again, but Sarath Weerasekera’s name appeared in the headlines—this time, tied to a controversial third DNA investigation related to the Easter bombers. It was unexpected, abrupt, and—as many suspected—unnecessary.
What followed was a media circus. But behind closed doors, whispers circulated. The decision hadn’t come from Weerasekera himself. In fact, the real command, sources said, came from above. Far above.
This article revisits that moment—not to question the validity of the DNA tests themselves—but to ask a deeper, more troubling question: who ordered them, and why?
The trail leads to India’s Research and Analysis Wing (RAW)—the country’s external intelligence agency. For decades, RAW has played the great game in South Asia, manipulating events in Sri Lanka with silent precision, cultivating assets, spreading disinformation, and controlling narratives.
According to one senior defence official, the push for the third DNA test was not an act of procedural diligence. It was strategic. An order passed down through discreet channels, with the Indian agency's fingerprints all over it. And at the other end of that pipeline stood a man who once held absolute sway over Sri Lanka’s military-intelligence complex: Gotabaya Rajapaksa.
Gotabaya, then operating in the shadows as the de facto architect of national security policy, had longstanding ties with Indian operatives—some adversarial, some transactional. But this wasn’t a diplomatic agreement. It was a trade-off.
As one former MI officer put it, “Gotabaya was their double-edged sword. Too dangerous to be discarded. Too useful to be ignored.”
The third DNA test wasn't merely about identifying body parts or confirming suspects’ remains. It was about rewriting the story of Easter Sunday. It was about suppressing inconvenient truths and manufacturing consent—both at home and abroad.
The objective was simple: close the book on the Easter attacks, silence the outliers, and protect a web of operatives who had, knowingly or unknowingly, aided in the orchestration of the worst terrorist atrocity on Sri Lankan soil since the end of the civil war.
One intelligence document, never released to the public, hinted at an internal RAW directive that listed four goals:
Eliminate rogue links within Colombo’s intelligence community.
Ensure Indian involvement was not exposed in international forums.
Shield political allies in Sri Lanka from judicial scrutiny.
Reset the geopolitical narrative in South Asia post-attacks.
So where did Sarath Weerasekera fit into this operation? Was he a willing agent of the state, or merely a uniformed pawn in a regional chess game?
Those close to him describe a man deeply loyal to the flag, but increasingly disillusioned by the moral decay within Sri Lanka’s defence establishment. One source who was present during the initial cabinet briefings said, “He didn’t want the third DNA test. He protested it, quietly. But the command was sealed. His hands were tied.”
His visit to the forensic labs wasn’t about finding truth. It was about performing obedience.
And yet, Weerasekera never publicly challenged the directive. Not even after leaving office. Perhaps he feared the consequences. Or perhaps he believed that silence was the price of survival in Sri Lanka’s shadow government.
This isn’t a story about one DNA test. It’s a story about power, secrets, and betrayal.
At the centre of it lies a quiet understanding between India’s spy chiefs and Sri Lanka’s post-war power brokers. RAW’s interest in Sri Lanka isn’t new. It dates back to the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi, the Indo-Lanka Accord, and the creation of Tamil rebel factions. But what changed after 2019 was the level of access—and the level of manipulation.
According to one diplomatic cable leaked in 2021, an Indian officer based in Chennai had frequent encrypted exchanges with Sri Lankan intelligence assets in the months leading to Easter. The conversations were not about preventing an attack. They were about what would happen after.
The attacks, in hindsight, appear less like an intelligence failure—and more like a controlled detonation.
This article does not claim omniscience. It merely raises the question: was Sarath Weerasekera complicit, or coerced?
If any of the above is inaccurate, the former Minister is welcome to respond. This platform remains open to his comment, his clarification, or his rebuttal.
But what is clear, even without his confirmation, is this: Sri Lanka was not merely the victim of terror on Easter Sunday. It was the victim of a deeper, more insidious form of warfare—one waged not by men with bombs, but by men in suits, phones, and secure lines.
They rewrote the forensic record. They re-engineered the political response. And in the process, they turned a nation’s tragedy into an intelligence asset.
-By LeN Intelligence Correspondent
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by (2025-07-09 15:37:28)
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