Truth & Reconciliation, Part 1

Mujahideen in a parade after they forced the US to retreat out of Fallujah in May 2004
Mujahideen in a parade after they forced the US to retreat out of Fallujah in May 2004.
Photo by Dahr Jamail, used with permission.

This is the first of three posts on Truth and Reconciliation by guest author Ross Caputi.

Truth and reconciliation projects have proven to be a powerful ways of bringing closure to communities affected by violence, healing the psychological wounds inflicted by war, and taking the first steps towards bringing communities that have been torn apart by violence back together.

The most successful application of this idea of post-conflict restorative justice is the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa after the abolition of Apartheid. Many have attempted to apply this model to other conflicts involving protracted inter- and intra-group violence. Some have even tried to use it as a way of ending ongoing violence, as in the case of the Israeli occupation of Palestine.

However, much of the success of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa can be attributed to the fact that Apartheid had been abolished. The unjust system that had been fueling oppression had ended, creating an opportunity to build a new society based on equality, human rights, and dignity.

We at Islah believe firmly that reconciliation is not possible while violence and violent systems are ongoing and sustained. Furthermore, it is insufficient for reconciliation projects to try to affect cognitive, emotional, and behavioral changes in groups and individuals alone in order to achieve reconciliation. Dialogue, exercises in forgiveness, and the fostering of attitudinal and perceptual shifts about the conflict do not address the structural injustices that drive conflicts.

Reconciliation cannot lead to resolution; it can only be a result of resolution. Furthermore, the form of resolution called “peace,” is not desirable if the structural injustices that caused the conflict remain in place.

Ross is currently on the Board of Directors of ISLAH. He is also a graduate student and a writer. In 2004, he was a US Marine in the US-led occupation of Iraq. His experience there, in particular his experience during the 2nd siege of Fallujah, compelled him to leave the US military and join the anti-war movement. His activism has focused on our society’s moral obligation to our victims in Iraq, and to the responsibility of veterans to renounce their hero status in America.

A living tapestry of peace and reconciliation (Part 1)

by guest author  Alan O’Hare, A Seanchie (Celtic storyteller)

In this post, I invite you to “see the voices” of renowned peace activists,  less well known proponents of peace and reconciliation, and all the human beings who have suffered from the wars and conflicts pervading our world.

El Salvador mural with Archbishop Romero
El Salvador mural with Archbishop Romero. Photo by Alison McKellar, used under CC Attribution Generic 2.0 license.

Think of their stories as part of a tapestry of peace, a tapestry that could be displayed in a meditative gathering in which we can envision Gandhi, Aung San Suu Kyi,  Thich Nhat Hanh, and Nelson Mandela, our brothers and sisters in our own journey towards peace.

As we create this tapestry, allow these images to be your guides:

  • Leonard Bernstein conducting Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in Berlin at the 1989 Fall of the Wall
  •  Aung San Suu Kyi being released to the loving embrace of the people of Myanmar after many years of unjust house arrest
  • The life and courage of Archbishop Romero being celebrated in El Salvador Cathedral where he was assassinated in 1980
  • A circle of victims and perpetrators from the 1994 Rwanda genocide sitting on the grass (gacaca) listening to confessions and seeking reconciliation

Recall Gandhi as he sat spinning threads of harmony, independence, and resistance that rippled across the nation of India. Even now we can see the echoes of his voice of peace, a voice that became a rolling thunder continuing to resonate throughout the world today.

Recalling Gandhi should be more than just imagining him; it should be truly seeing him through all those millions of people whose lives have been affected in the search for peace and reconciliation. See him and appreciate more fully the voices that carry on his mission, and the art, music, movement, and fragrance hidden in the beauty and power in each of their words.

Alan O’Hare, LifeStoryTheatre.org

Eyewitness account of Rwandan reconciliation

[Note from Kathie Malley-Morrison: Today we again feature a post from Andrew Potter‘s experiences in Rwanda.]

Bodies of Rwandan refugees, 1994
Bodies of Rwandan refugees, 1994. Photo in public domain.

In a way that only being physically present in this country could convey, I’ve realized that the genocide is a very difficult thing for Rwandans to talk about. If people do speak about the horrors they have encountered, it is only under very hushed circumstances or around people they trust.

Because of the delicate social issues, it is difficult to capture the real psyche of this nation on camera. Yet it is incredibly important to be in Rwanda  and to ponder the nature of what took place here: the largest genocide in modern history.

We must remind ourselves that friends, family members, and neighbors perpetrated this genocide against one another.

Because of this, reconciliation is everywhere, as the people have needed to move forward. The very fact that people are living side by side in peace is an incredibly powerful achievement to witness.

In an earlier post I spoke of how the New York Times has portrayed Rwanda as a “suppressed” nation.  I feel as though this was an unfair portrayal of the country. In the U.S. we are often hyper-critical of another country when democracy is lacking. We criticize as if we know better, as if we stand on a higher moral ground.

In actuality we have a lot to learn from the way Rwanda is conducting itself. Criticism is good when it is done in balance, yet it is dangerous when it causes us to ignore realities. We need to observe. We can certainly ask questions, but it is too soon to judge.

Andrew Potter

“Never again”: A report from Rwanda

[Note from Kathie Malley-Morrison:  Today’s post is part of an ongoing series by Andrew Potter, reporting from Rwanda where he is working on a documentary film about his experience.]

Writing on Rwandan brick wall: "Never Again"
Photo by Andrew Potter

I am experiencing this country with fresh eyes and an informed perspective.  I am encouraged by the balance that seems to have been achieved here.

Nathan and I have visited a number of local schools and are awed by the students’ intelligence and excellent grasp of the English language.

Two days ago we toured a genocide memorial at the site where over 10,000 Tutsis were massacred. This was a very visceral experience, one that was extremely difficult to digest. A description will have to suffice because photography was not permitted.

We entered a church, the same church where thousands of Tutsis had attempted to seek refuge. Walking into the church is like stepping onto a crime scene. Everything is freshly preserved. The pews of the church are piled with mounds of cloths from the dead.

In the underbelly of the church is a coffin holding the body of a Tutsi lady who was raped 15 times before she was brutally murdered. The ceiling is covered in bloodstains and bullet holes. It was an absolutely chilling scene.

I feel that this was incredibly important to witness first hand. It made me realize the severity of what Rwanda is currently attempting to overcome.

In being here I get the sense that people are doing the absolute best they can in the wake of an unspeakable past. In light of this I have shifted the focus of my documentary away from the genocide and reconciliation issues to simply documenting the school we are staying at and the everyday life of the people in this country.

There is a power, simplicity, and beauty in the way people have recovered and how they have achieved so much growth in the past 16 years.

Andrew Potter