Life After Violence
Page 17
For me, if I met someone who did something bad to me, if we had a justice system, I could bring this person before the tribunal and the law would know how to punish this person. But there is no justice system here to study the question of punishment. (Seventy-year-old woman, returned 1972 refugee, Hutu, Nyanza-Lac)
But the effect of a historical absence of rule of law or of the sort of legal tradition that underlies the transitional justice agenda is felt in deeper, more socially anchored ways as well. In a context where rule of law and faith in any institution of justice are absent, people have developed many other time-tested strategies for survival that strongly caution against placing faith in formal justice mechanisms. Many of these strategies are predicated on silence, on letting go, on forgetting – by the widow who now finds a measure of stability in the house of a man who killed her family; by the young woman who, by never talking about her rape, can find a husband; by the men who, by not bringing up the past, manage to work side by side in a cooperative. Ordinary Burundians are by necessity highly pragmatic – it is only the well off, or those living abroad, who can afford principle. Many perceive that there is little chance of having meaningful justice. and little practical benefit to it anyway, and they must focus their efforts on getting by in other ways.
Second, Burundians do have a fine understanding of how the violence of the civil war spread among them. In our conversations, people frequently hinted at the fact that a lot of the violence they a were part of was committed out of fear. Both in the city and in the countryside, waves of insecurity rolled over the population, i wiping out all normality. Many people ended up being both victims and perpetrators in this climate of fear. They may have committed horrendous acts, which do not represent who they normally are or aspire to be. Many came to regret these acts later. People naturally have a hard time confronting or talking about this, and trials, with their exactness, public nature, limited scope, and single-minded focus on culpability, may simply not be the best tools for resolving what happened in people’s lives during these awful years of insecurity and fear.
Related to this, some of those who favored pardons conveyed their view that the war was a time that was wholly outside of cognizable human experience. The incomprehensibility of the acts committed went to prove that the people who committed them were not themselves and could thus not be held entirely to account for their actions. Others also used this idea as a reason why they would personally forgive those who had harmed them during the war.
As for people in armed groups, all the people in this time were animated by a satanic spirit. They have had time to change their behavior. (Thirty-five-year-old woman, Nyanza-Lac)
For these people who continue to want vengeance, they also do not have peace. We must not prosecute them, but we should engage these people to try to re-educate them. It is like they are not part of society anymore, they just dream of doing bad things. We must educate them to change their behavior. (Fifty-nine-year-old woman, returned 1972 refugee, Nyanza-Lac)
Third, Burundians everywhere consider ‘the politicians’ to be responsible for the war: they talk about being manipulated by politicians who come at night in black Mercedes, of gangs of criminals being paid by politicians to fan the flames of violence, of unreliable politicians in Bujumbura cynically using the masses in their fight for personal benefits. This sense that the politicians are to blame is one of the most widespread opinions about the war, shared by Hutu and Tutsi. Some people who favored prosecutions, consequently, told us that the politicians should be the first, or even the only ones, to be prosecuted. These responses correspond with the transitional justice principle of prosecuting those ‘most responsible’ for crimes, and may provide an indication that limited prosecutions in the proposed special chamber for Burundi might have some popular backing. Conversely, as described below, others responded that, despite their culpability, politicians should still not be prosecuted if a threat to the peace might result.
Most of these people who committed crimes were misled by politicians. They only executed what politicians said to do. We must forgive them and not prosecute them because it was not their fault but that of the politicians. (Forty-six-year-old male, returned IDP, Ruhororo)
The common people are the pillars of the politicians, they support the politicians in their bad works. If they don’t have bad politicians then the people won’t do it again. Most people have only executed the orders of the politicians, like innocents. If we prosecute and punish the leaders, then the others should be pardoned. […] The first thing to do is for the International Court of Justice to begin work in the country. They must start with the high politicians, from all groups. It will not be possible to do this if these politicians remain in power, because otherwise it would already have started. It is a problem for the common people because the politicians see far and know that if the court starts its work, they will be accused and punished. So they do not want i the court to start work. (Sixty-seven-year-old male, traditional mushingantahe, Tutsi, IDP camp, Ruhororo)
We must start first with the politicians; the crisis was born with the politicians. The politicians are more guilty than those who committed the acts. Those who committed the acts only followed orders. The politicians are very bad. Now, there are not bad words among the population; there is peace. But if the politicians were to come and teach bad things to the population, the population will always be there to carry out orders. (Forty-nine-year-old male, elected mushingantahe, Tutsi, IDP camp, Ruhororo)
This widespread insistence on politician responsibility, with the correlative characterization of the population as having only mistakenly, unwillingly, or unwittingly been tricked into following orders, has multiple effects. In the present, it favors daily coexistence, by downplaying the personal responsibility of all people. This is consistent with a strategy of forgetting, and of not talking about the past – in both cases it allows people to move on, to re-create the social relations that allow them to cope with their forced interdependence. The impact of this widespread analysis on future violence is harder to determine. On the one hand, recognition of the role of politicians in manipulating ethnicity to instigate conflict seems to be a welcome antidote to their ability to do so again. This is, indeed, how many people presented it themselves: now we know we have been tricked, and it will not happen again; or next time they come and tell us to kill, we will ask them to do it first! A side effect of this analysis is of course that it effectively allows individuals to avoid closely examining their own behaviors and motives during the years of violence.
A fourth reason given by people who opposed prosecutions and truth-telling is a fear of endangering the transition. Indeed, in all places where we did research, among ordinary people and intellectuals, people repeated that the prosecution of politicians should be subordinate to the objective of maintaining security and peace.
Peace is necessary for simple country people – to cultivate, to eat, to have security. If the politicians are not prosecuted but there is peace, then I don’t understand why people insist on punishing the politicians. (Forty-six-year-old male, returned IDP, Tutsi, Ruhororo)
Whether or not people who were leaders should be prosecuted is a question for the government. If they find that they should do it, they will do it. If they decide to pardon everyone, we all would be in agreement with that, so that the crisis will not restart. (Seventy-year-old male, traditional mushingantahe, returned 1993 refugee, Nyanza-Lac)
Burundians – both Hutu and Tutsi – are pleased with the transition: it brought them peace and a potential for development; for Hutu, it also created a more representative and stable system of government than anything they had known since independence. Full accountability of the key people involved in crimes could very conceivably undermine the transition. People high in the current elected government, the army and the parliament, as well as still-powerful outsiders, would have to face trial. It is unlikely they would do so voluntarily, and their resistance could very well destroy the transition
and reignite civil war. People clearly value security far higher than justice.
Many of our interviewees also seemed to display a normative preference in favor of silence, as opposed to the more practical or instrumental arguments presented so far. Indeed, quite a number of people treated the desire to talk about the past almost as a weakness. People talk about the past, the argument goes, because they cannot help it, because they cannot stop themselves, because they cannot forget. It would be better if they could avoid doing so.
We talk about the past when we get together, when we drink. We do not talk about why it started but of the sorrows we suffered. If possible, we must be silent, we should not speak on the subject of the crise. Why should we continue talking about it when talking about it is not important? (Fifty-five-year-old male, Nyanza-Lac)
For me, I don’t think it is good to talk about the past. But you cannot forget the periods of sorrow in your life. You can’t forget those years. I don’t know what to do if you have memories of bad things in your heart. But if you do talk, you need to only talk about what happened to you and that you don’t want it to happen again. (Twenty-one-year-old man, Nyanza-Lac) It is not good to talk about this because there were lots of losses and we must not remind people of all that happened. We must forget everything that happened to start another life. If people came and said we should get together and tell our stories, I don’t think it would be good. (Thirty-nine-year-old female, Nyanza-Lac)
We believe some of this is due to cultural preferences of Burundians in favor of letting go of the past, of focusing on moving on, of being ‘flexible,’ as they sometimes call it. After years of anarchy and a weak state, people developed instinctive protective mechanisms for not speaking up or revealing the truth when it may lead to personal danger or conflicts. Compounding this is the atmosphere of lack of social trust that has come out of a history of state-led communal violence. Before any genuine truth-telling can take place, a minimum level of trust – with agents of the justice system as well as among community members – must exist. Truth-telling does not create trust, but can only follow it.
Even if [different ethnic groups] came together to talk about the crisis, there would be no trust. If the people talked together they would not speak the truth because of the lack of trust. When they left, the people would say different things than they said when they were together. (Fifty-five-year-old male, IDP camp, Ruhororo)
A national truth process will not be helpful. We Burundians are afraid to tell the truth. We think, if I tell the truth, I may be killed. Any process must be based on personal-level trust. Lack of personal trust now is key. If a process comes from above, it will create fear. (Male employee of UN agency, Tutsi, IDP camp, Ruhororo)
It would not be possible to put different groups together to talk. Even if we did put them together, they would not pronounce these feelings of desire for vengeance. (Fifty-nine-year-old female, returned 1972 refugee, Nyanza-Lac)
The problem with the [truth commission] is to find those who will be members of the commission. It is always a problem of politics – everyone is biased in one direction or the other. You will never find someone who can be in the middle between the two groups. (Sixty-seven-year-old traditional mushingantahe, IDP camp, Ruhororo)
This research also revealed a widespread desire for some kind of conflict resolution dialogues among Burundians – something which seems at first sight to contrast with the disfavor of truth mechanisms and preference for silence. Individuals frequently positively described mechanisms that were local, face-to-face, but not designed for truth and justice. Instead, these mechanisms focused on diffusing tension, interpersonal healing, forgiveness, and cohabitation. In short, they seemed to have in mind the sort of things that conflict resolution agencies like Search for Common Ground and others (as well as some engaged communal administrators) do in Burundi – not what is being described in the transitional justice literature. As we suggested earlier, one feature that may distinguish these mechanisms is that Burundians prefer efforts that help them find ways to live together again, rather than seeking to establish root causes or apportioning blame. Sharing mutual fears and re-establishing points of commonality in non-confrontational settings were seen as ways of fostering greater empathy. Several people stated that, in reestablishing trust on the individual level, they would feel even less of a necessity for prosecutions or truth-telling. The asking and giving of forgiveness that would be a prerequisite for trust would also accomplish the end goals of transitional justice, without the dangers inherent in a formalized process. Nevertheless, even in these responses, the underlying assumption was still frequently that it would be the responsibility of members of the other side to initiate such exchanges.
I have never heard displaced and colline residents talking about the crisis together. If the administrateur communal decided to have meetings to talk about these things, then that would be good. If someone else, for instance in the site, wanted to start talking about it, it would be good because it would be a means of reconciliation. To talk with sincerity about all we lived during the crisis could open the hearts of people, and make them accept to reconcile. (Twenty-two-year-old female, Hutu, Ruhororo)
If someone asked my forgiveness, I would be ready to forgive this person. The idea of being satisfied by this is my idea, though, not for everyone. If I forgave a person, I would prefer that he not be prosecuted by the justice system, or that the justice system also pardoned this person. But the forgiveness would depend on how he explained himself, and on the dialogue that we would have. After this forgiveness, trust and relations would be reborn between these people and me and I would not be afraid of these people anymore. (Twenty-seven-year-old male, Ruhororo IDP camp)
For those who were friends before, we talk about the crisis, not about the origins but the facts. For example, we talk about life in the refugee camp, in the site, in the bush, and those who stayed in the village. When we talk, it is like everyone tells their story, then they add that there are no ethnic killings or divisions. They say that their friends must warn them if it is going to happen again. (Forty-year-old woman, Nyanza-Lac)
It would be good if people got together to talk [in mixed groups], each could air his feelings. This fear of return can be erased by conversations. (Forty-six-year-old male, returned IDP, Ruhororo)
The last, and very important, reason why most Burundians do not prefer the available transitional justice menu is that they overwhelmingly think of themselves as having moved beyond ethnicity and division. In our broader research, we asked people how entente was in their lives. The word is hard to render in English: it refers to notions of getting along, living without friction – cohabitation or coexistence may be the best term (Chayes and Minow 2003).
In these conversations, the overwhelming majority of people everywhere in Burundi were very positive about the state of entente in their neighborhoods or collines. Whether in rural or in urban areas, poor or rich, almost everyone we spoke to made a similar argument when asked about entente, namely: ‘entente is good here, for we all live the same problems.’ As we all share the same structural conditions, they told us, we realize that ethnic divisions do not serve us. Of course, there are conflicts in households and between neighbors, we were informed, but nothing that can’t be solved à l’amiable (in a friendly manner).
table 7.1 Attitudes toward entente
Entente is good now Entente is still a problem
Busiga 18 0
Ruhororo camp 6 5
Ruhororo colline 1 0
Nyanza-Lac 8 0
Musaga 45 0
Kamenge 27 2*
Bwiza 16 0
Other urban 18 0
Note: * Both are FNL self-demobs who clearly felt ill at ease in their communities, for they could still face retaliation from either the FNL or the army for their past actions, if neighbors informed on them.
Once again, the only place where a different situation prevailed is the IDP camp in Ruhororo, where a significant number of
people in the larger study said entente was not good. This limited exceptionalism in the IDP camp was not a reflection of a broader Tutsi reflex. We interviewed many Tutsi throughout the country (the urban commune of Musaga, for example, is almost entirely Tutsi), and yet it is only in the Ruhororo IDP camp that a sizeable proportion of interviewees differed from the general position. This suggests, once again, that much of what we heard in the IDP camp in Ruhororo is a reflection of isolation and trauma. The people there live separated – a well-defined island of Tutsi in what many of them still perceive as a hostile sea of Hutu. The people living in the IDP camp in Ruhororo were generally among the most depressed people we met during our months of talking to Burundians. The weeks spent in the camp talking to its inhabitants had a palpable heaviness. Older people fear their former neighbors, bemoan their lost children, their loneliness, their displacement. The young people had no hopes for life: no work, no capacity to get married, no access to credit, no professional training. Separation, trauma from the pogroms of 1993, and ongoing social and economic constraints, then, seem to combine to explain the differential results of the people living in the IDP camp.
Even with some qualification, this result is an important one, for it informs us of some crucial dynamics in Burundi. One is that the current political situation of the country favors ethnic reconciliation, or maybe more precisely a letting go of ethnicity. Contrary to what happened in the past, all political parties go out of their way to not present themselves as representing ethnic groups, and officials speak about Burundians rather than of Hutu or Tutsi. The second is that this answer, even if factually incorrect, reflects an image people consider desirable. After all, Burundi is not a dictatorship like neighboring Rwanda, where every word can be overheard and reported back to intelligence services and where only one single state-imposed discourse is allowed. Hence, even if this overwhelming answer that entente is good is an image projected at outsiders, it is at least one that has widespread grounding in society, reflecting how Burundians like to think of themselves – or present themselves – after twelve years of brutal ethnic civil war.