CHAPTER 9: HEALING AND RECONCILIATION
9.2. Healing through truth
Adami and Hunt, in the context of the ICTR, describe the cathartic effect speaking the truth may have: “For those who remain, for those who lived through the
ultimate evil, for those who despaired of seeing the world react, the ICTR becomes a tremendous place to speak. There people can give voice to their suffering, ritualise it, objectify it, reopen the wound to better let it out, let it heal, let it scar over” (2005, 112). Once the truth is spoken and recorded it becomes a testimony in the collective memory of a nation, and of the world, and it is ‘fixed in history’ (2005, 113). In the discussion on South Africa’s TRC, in section 9.6, it will become clear that speaking out the truth in and of itself is not necessarily healing.
Yet, saying what happened and bringing events of the past out into the open is a significant part of the healing process. Truth encompasses various elements, such as how we speak of history, how we remember the past collectively, and what is said about the past in a judicial context. These will be discussed in the following section, focusing on the work of NURC.
A significant role that NURC purports to play is that of developing a shared understanding of Rwanda’s past, the reasons for conflict and the way forward in
the future. A representative from NURC stressed the importance of a ‘same’
understanding and ‘same’ thinking, arguing that when everyone is thinking in the same way, there will be no more division, and thus unity and reconciliation (Personal interview, Kigali, January, 2007). On asking the NURC representative whether there was room for diverse views concerning history his answer was yes and no. On the one hand, they are working to create public spaces, through debate, dialogue, workshops and the like, for ideas to be challenged and formed by a diversity of people. On the other, NURC remains a government-sponsored organization, and the government maintains its controversial law against ethnic division, which limits what may and may not be said in terms of identity and history.
Alongside this, the NURC representative mentioned the complexity of Rwandan society, where ones public view might well contradict ones private views. Or, as one interviewee explained, one’s public identity often takes precedence over one’s private identity, and having the appearance of having the ‘right’ view publicly may well be more important in Rwandan society than standing up for a divergent private view (Personal interview, Kigali, January, 2007). As Reginald was quoted as saying in section 8.2.2, Rwandans seem to have an unspoken understanding of which topics can and can’t be discussed, and what the acceptable way of discussing these is.
Staub, Pearlman and Miller would agree with NURC in the necessity of providing information to communities with regards to the origins of genocide and developing a shared history (2003, 289). “Understanding genocide helps people move
beyond the belief held by many people in Rwanda that what they experienced was incomprehensible evil. It helps them to see genocide, however horrible, as a human process. It helps them to see their common humanity with others who have suffered mass violence” (2003, 290). However, they feel that this shared history needs to be acceptable to both sides in order for reconciliation to take place (2003, 290).
Staub, et al. argue that conflicting views about history lead to the persistence of blame, mistrust, and antagonism (2003, 290). Particularly when groups live together, creating a history that is acceptable to both sides may be central to
reconciliation. The challenge is in creating an understanding that is acceptable to both sides. This seems crucial in building a shared understanding, rather than a same understanding. A shared understanding suggests acknowledging and taking into account a diversity of views and perspectives and piecing this together into a version everyone can share. A shared understanding also allows for a dynamic interaction between different groups over time.
Both identity and our understanding of history are constantly in flux, constantly being rethought and renegotiated. It is this fluid interaction with history and identity that is needed to allow reconciliation the space to become a reality. Similarly, Adam and Adam argue that there needs to be room for various versions of the truth rather than a unified, official version. “Only a pluralist interpretation of history may at best achieve a shared truth, or at worst, reinforce divided memories.
History as an ongoing argument is still preferable to the myth-making of official collective memory” (2000, 37). A critique against the Rwandan government is that only an ‘official’ version of the past is considered.
Part of the process of developing a shared understanding of what happened and what needs to happen is through healing memories. In Rwanda, every April is a month of remembrance. Traumatic images of the horror of genocide are displayed publicly throughout the country. People are reminded of the death and mayhem that overwhelmed the country for 100 days. The purpose behind this is to say,
‘never again’. Yet, Cyprian Fisiy argues that in the Rwandan context social
memory has been manipulated for the purposes of holding onto power throughout Rwandan history and that it is difficult to separate the many layers of truth and memory, even when it comes to remembering what happened during the genocide (1998, 20).
One response to this might be giving victims and perpetrators, or victims from both sides of the conflict, the space and context in which to speak out their memories. Hay makes mention of the importance of giving victims the space to mourn and grieve their suffering. He highlights how trauma leads to the loss of a sense of self, a loss of human dignity, a loss of meaning, and a loss of trust
(1999, 122). In this context, victims need to be provided with a context of safety to experience healing from their trauma. A part of this, for Hay, includes what he
calls a ‘conversion’ from victim to survivor. He sees this as a fundamental shift from brokenness and dehumanization to a restored human dignity. Similarly, perpetrators have been dehumanized by their own actions and need their
humanity restored. This process happens as shared rituals, such as remembering April, 1994, take place. But they need to be shared rituals where everyone’s stories are heard and truths are shared. Victims of the genocide as well as of the civil war would need the space to mourn and experience healing of memories.
In terms of the process of healing through truth, Villa-Vicencio writes that
storytelling assists us in the process of accepting and celebrating our differences, enables us to understand each other well enough to co-exist, and build a common nation “in diversity and difference” (1995, 105). How the past and the nature of the conflict is perceived and remembered has a significant effect on the likelihood of conflicting parties reconciling. It is necessary for everyone’s stories to be heard and told, and not only for one set of stories to be heard, as is often the case in Rwanda. As Reginald said in section 8.2.5, the stories of Rwandans in the north who have lost family members to the RPF during the war have not been told. “Do you think their pain has healed?” he asks.
The process of gacaca is helping to allow the story of what happened to be heard.
Bronkhorst writes, “The dead must be counted and buried, the victims’ stories must be recorded, told and retold until the whole truth is out. Reconciliation between opposing classes and groups can only be realized once the facts, the background, motives and emotions have been recognized and admitted by both sides” (in Hay, 1999, 117). Gacaca has helped to bring the facts of the genocide out into the open, at least with regards to the actions of the genocidaires against Tutsi and moderate Hutu in the attempt to eradicate an ethnic group. In terms of embodying truth and justice in a way that all Rwandans can accept, though, it has probably fallen well short. Someone like Francois, one of the young men
interviewed, might argue that only a part of the truth has been told.
Graybill argues that “whereas the South African TRC required all perpetrators of human rights abuses on both sides—the government and the resistance
movements—to apply for amnesty, the gacaca system will only judge the perpetrators of the genocide” (2004, 1224). The Rwandan government has said
that cases that involve RPF soldiers who committed crimes need to be taken to the military jurisdiction, a legal process separate from genocide crimes. When asked about this, the representative from ASF said that most Rwandans find the military judiciary intimidating or inaccessible and that they had recommended to the government that an accessible system needed to be put in place so that Rwandans can feel sufficiently safe to report these crimes (Personal interview, Kigali, January, 2007).
Villa-Vicencio has argued in the South African context, that for a culture of human rights to exist human rights violations on all sides of the conflict need to be
investigated and acknowledged. Even were the crimes committed for the purpose of liberation, they need to come into the light for a culture of human rights to be established (2000, 29). Similarly, Graybill argues that considering that crimes by the RPF resulted in possibly 100 000 civilian casualties, it will affect the
reconciliation process if it seems that only one side is receiving justice.
“Exclusively judging Hutu acts, while ignoring RPF violations, may be one reason for the drop in willingness to participate [in gacaca], as Hutus view this as patently unjust,” writes Graybill (2004, 1224).
In a report for the Institute for Social Security, Stephanie Wolters argues that
“anyone who might choose to speak openly about the problems associated with the gacaca process would be accused of ‘divisionism’” and that this leaves little room for the kind of national dialogue such a process needs (2005, 15). Added to this is the fact that participation in gacaca is mandatory by law and anyone who does not testify may be imprisoned for up to six months (Wolters, 2005, 7). As a result of these kinds of strictures some of the Hutu diaspora view gacaca as a government tool to exact revenge against the population, and view it as victor’s justice (Wolters, 2005, 15).
This section has discussed the role of truth and memory in healing, saying that although the truth in itself is not always cathartic and healing, it is nevertheless an important part of the healing process. It has suggested that although NURC is creating important public spaces for debate, these spaces are limited due to government policy and the tendency towards ‘double-speak’ in Rwandan society.
It has mentioned the significance of rituals to remember what happened, such as
the April memorials but suggested that these memorials need to incorporate the story of victims across the political divide, as well as the stories of perpetrators. It has considered the role of gacaca in allowing the story of what happened to be told, critiquing it for only allowing one side of the story to be heard. The issue of truth remains complex and will be explored further in relation to the TRC in section 9.6.1.