Sangeethsan's release is undoubtedly welcome, but this is not justice. A young Tamil man spent ten days in a cell for a song, the case against him has not been withdrawn, and the law under which he was seized remains on the books, waiting for the next artist.

The explosive revelation that one of the island’s most senior Sinhala Buddhist monks stands accused of repeatedly raping a child has laid bare a culture of impunity that has protected powerful members of the clergy for decades. It is shameful and symptomatic of a powerful political class that for too long has lived by its own rules. It cannot be allowed to continue.

What the last week has also demonstrated, however, is that there is a growing distance between the language of solidarity from those who claim to be allies in this pursuit, and the courage it actually requires. On the island and around the world, there is yet to be a reckoning.

The Eelam Tamil calendar is scarred with memorials of massacres and killings, each date carrying its own weight. May 18 is different.

Joseph Vijay's historic victory in Tamil Nadu is the most significant political development in the state in a generation. But Eelam Tamils should be cautious.

The interrogation of student leaders at the University of Jaffna marks a deeply troubling escalation in the Sri Lankan state’s long-standing efforts to suppress political expression in the Tamil homeland.

Sri Lanka’s political establishment has been walking a tightrope this week, after the island was thrust into global headlines following the sinking of an Iranian warship by a United States submarine. 

The Oxford Union is no stranger to controversy. Over the decades, the prestigious student debating society has hosted a range of deeply divisive figures, from far-right agitators such as Tommy Robinson and Nick Griffin, to Holocaust deniers such as David Irving. It has justified these invitations under the banner of free speech and intellectual challenge, insisting that debate must remain open, however uncomfortable the speaker may be. The decision to invite Namal Rajapaksa to address the Union next week, however, is particularly disappointing – platforming a defender of mass atrocities and putting the welfare of its own students at risk.

The killing of a 17-year-old in Jaffna, the attempted cover-up that followed, and the complete absence of accountability, are part of a grim and familiar cycle. For decades, such violence has made clear that the Sri Lankan state does not value Tamil lives, no matter which government sits in Colombo.

Last month's UN report adds yet more weight to a body of evidence that is now overwhelming. The time has come for the international community to call these crimes by their proper name: genocide.