Sanctions by The Unpunished

The issue is very clear, as The Guardian(UK) reported on March 25: despite its scale, 85% of Britons today do not know the full extent of Britain’s involvement in the slave trade. Over three million people were forcibly shipped from Africa to the Caribbean by British enslavers. This historical amnesia is not an accident; it is the bedrock of a comfortable lie, a carefully curated narrative that allows a nation built on plunder to present itself as a moral authority in global affairs.

It is a form of selective blindness that refuses to acknowledge that the wealth and stability Britain enjoys today is the direct consequence of a history of systemic looting, enslavement, and brutal subjugation. This willful forgetting is not just an academic issue—it is a fundamental moral failing, one that allows those who benefited from these crimes to sanction others for far lesser infractions while escaping their own reckoning.

Colonial crimes have never been accounted for in any real sense. Those who continue to benefit from these historical injustices remain comfortable in their slumber. They will not talk about it, because the moment they do, the benefits they get will be threatened. They would rather place the burden of guilt on select others, as if justice were a scalpel, not a mirror. The hypocrisy of Western-led sanctions is not a simple contradiction; it is an intentional strategy of control.

When Britain sanctions individuals in Sri Lanka under the guise of human rights violations, it is not doing so out of a commitment to justice. It is performing a political ritual, one designed not to ensure accountability but to reinforce a hierarchy, a world order where former colonial powers remain the arbiters of morality, and smaller nations remain the accused.

Labour MP Catherine West proudly announced the latest round of UK sanctions, stating, “Today, we have delivered sanctions targeting individuals responsible for human rights violations during the civil war in Sri Lanka. The UK government is committed to working with the new Sri Lankan government on human rights and seeking accountability.” However, UK-based ex-journalist Frances Harrison was more candid about the real motivation behind these sanctions, acknowledging, “Yes – this was the result of a lot of hard work over many years by the Tamil community in the UK.”

What exactly is this justice that Britain seeks? It is certainly not universal, nor impartial. The UK has never sanctioned its own war criminals, nor has it held accountable the architects of its colonial-era massacres. Winston Churchill, whose economic policies during World War II starved three million Bengalis to death in the Bengal famine of 1943, has never been posthumously condemned. The vast wealth stolen from India, estimated at $45 trillion over two centuries, has never been returned.

The survivors of the Mau Mau Uprising in Kenya, who were tortured in British-run detention camps, were only offered meagre financial settlements decades later, long after most had died. Sri Lanka doesn’t even have proper records of the indigenous people who were virtually wiped out by the British. During British colonial rule in Burma, an estimated one million people died due to factors such as the Anglo-Burmese Wars, forced labour, military repression, and the devastating famine of 1942, which alone claimed between 300,000 to 500,000 lives.

Additionally, the forced relocation of indigenous peoples in Australia and the suppression of their cultures were part of Britain’s colonial atrocities. The exploitation of enslaved Africans and the brutal slave trade in the Caribbean also represents a dark chapter in British history, contributing to the immense wealth of the empire at the expense of human lives. None of these crimes have led to sanctions, nor have there been meaningful legal consequences.

Britain’s crimes extend beyond its colonial past into modern conflicts. During the Malayan Emergency, British forces executed civilians, burned villages, and detained thousands in camps. In Cyprus, they tortured anti-colonial detainees. The UK’s 2003 invasion of Iraq caused widespread destruction, while its 2011 intervention in Libya led to instability. In Afghanistan, British actions resulted in civilian casualties. This game is continuing. Despite ample evidence of war crimes, Britain has refused accountability, stalling efforts for reparations and justice. Meanwhile, with no substantive evidence—only fabricated claims—they continue to target Sri Lanka.

Sri Lanka’s war was not one of conquest; it was a battle against a ruthless terrorist organization that turned children into suicide bombers. The LTTE (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam) did not merely kill civilians—it enslaved its own community. Young Tamil girls were forcibly recruited, stripped of their childhoods, and sent to die in combat. Adele Balasingham, an Australian-born UK citizen, was one of the chief enablers of this human tragedy.

She lived in Sri Lanka, training these girls, tying cyanide capsules around their necks, preparing them for war. Today, she resides peacefully in the UK, a country which proscribed the LTTE, untouched by legal scrutiny. Why has she not been sanctioned? Why does the British legal system, so eager to hold select few Sri Lankans accountable, offer her protection instead of prosecution? The idea that the UK sanctions Sri Lankan individuals for human rights violations while allowing known terrorists and war criminals to live freely within its borders exposes the fraudulence of this entire exercise.

Why does Britain get to keep its plunder, while punishing others for their wars? How can the descendants of looters lecture the looted on ethics? This is not justice. Walter Rodney, the Guyanese historian, meticulously detailed the economic and political strangulation imposed by European powers on Africa in How Europe Underdeveloped Africa. Rodney exposed the deliberate impoverishment of African nations, explaining how European economic policies were designed not merely to exploit Africa but to prevent its development altogether.

He argued that the wealth extracted from Africa—labour, minerals, land—was transferred to Europe, ensuring that Africa’s economic structures remained weak and dependent. Rodney was assassinated in 1980, a fate that often befalls those who dare to speak against the global order of exploitation.

His research revealed that during colonial rule, Africa’s share of global trade dropped from 8% in 1900 to less than 2% by the 1970s, a direct result of Western economic manipulation. Even after formal independence, African economies were shackled by debt, with IMF and World Bank policies ensuring that they remained trapped in cycles of financial subjugation. These same tactics are now being rebranded as “sanctions”, weaponized not against colonial exploiters but against the former colonies themselves.

Sanctions are not about morality—they are a tool of economic and political coercion. The West does not need to send warships anymore; it simply chokes economies through financial warfare, weaponizing international banking systems to bring disobedient nations to their knees. Sri Lanka’s economy is fragile, and these sanctions are not just about punishing individuals—they are about sending a message: obey, or suffer the consequences.

If justice were truly the concern, why are there no sanctions for Britain’s past and ongoing economic violence? That is why former colonial subjects must stop seeking validation from former colonial masters. The UK’s hypocrisy will not end on its own—it will only be dismantled when its targets refuse to play along. If Britain truly cared about justice, it would begin by sanctioning itself as a nation built on stolen wealth and unpaid debts cannot be the arbiter of justice. Let’s rest our case there.

by Nilantha Ilangamuwa