Forgiveness: An Alternative to ICC Prosecution for Atrocities

Among the many criticisms of the ICC, is the idea that prosecution is not always the appropriate means through which to address atrocities and heal the societal wounds imposed by conflict. The Milosevic case, which Julian discussed earlier here, is but one example of how prosecution — mired in technicalities, delayed for years and removed from the site of the crimes — plays, at best, only a small role in the reconciliation needed for reconstruction after war, and at worst, actually interferes with reconciliation. This article in today’s NY Times discusses efforts in Uganda to use traditional methods of forgiveness and reconciliation to welcome back into the community people who committed crimes (in some cases, were coerced to commit crimes at a young age) in the rebel war against the Museveni government. As Julian notes, the ICC has been consulting with the leaders in the northern region of Uganda, but is also on the verge of issuing arrest warrants against some of the rebels — a move which many in Uganda oppose. (Read this earlier joint statement by the Acholi leaders and the ICC carefully; the ICC has not agreed to recognize locally conferred “amnesties” — that’s where the two processes clash.) This excerpt from the NYT describes the Acholi forgiveness ceremony:

The other day, an assembly of Acholi chiefs put the notion of forgiveness into action. As they looked on, 28 young men and women who had recently defected from the rebels lined up according to rank on a hilltop overlooking this war-scared regional capital, with a one-legged lieutenant colonel in the lead and some adolescent privates bringing up the rear. They had killed and maimed together. They had raped and pillaged. One after the other, they stuck their bare right feet in a freshly cracked egg, with the lieutenant colonel, who lost his right leg to a bomb, inserting his right crutch in the egg instead. The egg symbolizes innocent life, according to local custom, and by dabbing themselves in it the killers are restoring themselves to the way they used to be.
Next, the former fighters brushed against the branch of a pobo tree, which symbolically cleansed them. By stepping over a pole, they were welcomed back into the community by Mr. Acana and the other chiefs. “I ask for your forgiveness,” said Charles Otim, 34, the rebel lieutenant colonel, who had been abducted by the rebels himself, at the age of 16, early in the war. “We have wronged you.”

Similar to the Gacaca process in Rwanda, and the earlier truth and reconciliation commissions in South Africa and El Salvador, this traditional ceremony requires a confession before the perpetrator is welcomed back. (I recommend the documentary film “Gacaca” for an excellent overview of the Gacaca process and the challenges faced in reconstructing Rwandan society post-genocide.) The power of apology and forgiveness in the process of reconciliation and dispute resolution has been the subject of scholarship in both the domestic (see this study by my colleague Jennifer Robbennolt on the role of apology in litigation settlement) and international contexts. Martha Minnow’s 1999 book “Between Vengeance and Forgiveness” is a great place to start exploring the complexity of building a society in the wake of mass violence. Law and legal prosecution have their place, but it’s important that supporters of the ICC don’t let their enthusiasm for the institution get in the way of real reconciliation and reconstruction.