Critique of sources' perspectives on forgiveness through gacaca

The striking combination of religious and pragmatic, personal and com­munal elements renders forgiveness through gacaca a highly complicated theme. It is necessary now to support some of the views expressed by the three groups of sources examined, and to reject, modify or supplement others.

In sources' interpretations of the form that forgiveness should take at gacaca, there are significant tensions between its private and public dimensions. In particular, the question of who can forgive is crucial but often answered unsatisfactorily. First, the individual-group and offi­cial forms of forgiveness expressed by some detainees propose a morally unjustified interpretation of who can forgive. These forms assume that either the community as a whole or the state may forgive a perpetrator, even though the perpetrator committed crimes against individual vic­tims. The Gacaca Law encourages such a view by only requiring suspects to confess publicly in front of the general assembly but not privately to victims. It is not even clear whether the specific victims are required to be present when suspects make public confessions at gacaca.^[680] Furthermore, as stated earlier, for a confession to be considered legitimate according to the revised Gacaca Law, suspects need only request forgiveness from �a duly constituted bench, a judicial police officer or a public prosecutor investigating the case', rather than from their victims.

In turn, the view expressed by a minority of suspects that they should seek forgiveness from the government is also probably influenced by facets of Catholic doctrine that emphasise the Church's authority over forgiving sins.

The divine form of forgiveness that some detainees advocate is prob­lematic for similar reasons. According to this view, genocide perpetrators may ask for forgiveness from God. This form of forgiveness is import­ant for many Christians who believe that their genocide crimes dam­aged their relationship with God and that asking for divine forgiveness is necessary for rebuilding it. This interpretation is popular among Protestant detainees who tend to take a more privatised approach to for­giveness, viewing it as a matter solely between the individual believer and God, occurring within the believer’s conscience without mediation by a priest or another external party. Such a view becomes problematic when some detainees interpret this as a substitute for interpersonal for­giveness from their victims. While committing crimes may be seen as breaking God’s commandments, for example the biblical commandment not to murder, perpetrators have committed these crimes against other individuals. Therefore, if they seek forgiveness from God, then they are morally obligated to also request it from their victims. The problem with divine forgiveness in the context of gacaca is not with this form of for­giveness per se but with some suspects’ view that it substitutes for forgive­ness from survivors.

The final category of problems concerning the form of forgiveness refers to what various sources argue forgiveness should entail. Both supporters and critics of pursuing forgiveness through gacaca offer unconvincing interpretations of the requirements of forgiveness. Unsatisfactory inter­pretations here centre around two issues: amnesty and amnesia. First, some non-Rwandan critics such as de Jonge, Prendergast and Smock mistakenly argue that forgiveness entails forgoing any attempt to punish the guilty. As a result, de Jonge argues that the amnesty resulting from forgiveness will generate greater anger and resentment among survivors. Implicit in de Jonge’s criticisms is the view that forgiveness leads to con­doning crimes and therefore fosters impunity. Forgiveness, however, is not inherently incompatible with punishment but rather only with dir­ect, personal retribution. Forgiveness requires only that survivors forgo personal vengeance against perpetrators. The role of punishing those found guilty is instead handed over to the state. Forgiveness also does not entail condoning crimes but rather requires full acknowledgement of wrongdoing as perpetrators openly confess to, apologise and ask for forgiveness of, their crimes. Implicit in perpetrators’ request for, and sur­vivors’ granting of, forgiveness is a mutual remembrance of the crimes committed; a recognition that the crimes were morally wrong and that some form of response is now required.^[681]

Another flawed interpretation claims that forgiveness will inherently require survivors to forget the crimes committed against them. Some detainees documented above argue that forgiveness entails amnesia, while some survivors argue that they will first have to forget the crimes against them before they can forgive the perpetrators. Such a view manifests psychological and philosophical flaws. At the outset, it is psy­chologically impossible for survivors to forget what has happened to them and their loved ones.

We forget nothing. For me, I can go several weeks without seeing my late wife and children’s faces, though until then I had dreamed of them every night. But never a single day do I forget that they are here no longer, that they were chopped down, that they wanted to exterminate us, that neigh­bours of long-standing turned in a matter of hours into beasts. Every day I pronounce the word �genocide’.^[684]

Given the extreme violence of the genocide and the fact that most crimes were committed by individuals whom the victims knew intimately, most survivors will never forget the deep anguish of these events.

More importantly, nothing in the concept of forgiveness necessitates forgetting. It is commonplace in quotidian discourse to connect forgive­ness with forgetting; such a linkage, however, probably stems more from the alliteration of the two words than from any reasoned philosophical connection. Rather than requiring amnesia, forgiveness necessitates acknowledgement of the past. Expecting survivors to forget the events of the genocide constitutes an unjust imposition; an imposition, however, to which forgiveness through gacaca is also opposed. Sources who link forgiveness with forgetting misinterpret what forgiveness entails, both generally and in the context of gacaca. By advocating amnesia, these sources also risk increasing survivors’ feelings of anger and resentment at the lack of acknowledgement of past crimes, when forgiveness in fact entails encouraging survivors to overcome these negative sentiments.

Regarding the motivations behind parties’ desire for forgiveness through gacaca, some suspects’ reasons for requesting forgiveness and some survivors’ reasons for granting forgiveness are flawed. Four expressed motivations from the sources analysed in particular display crucial problems: forgiveness as motivated by the supposed benefits for suspects from gacaca’s plea-bargaining system; more broadly, forgiveness sought or granted in order to each achieve personal, pragmatic outcomes; forgiveness motivated by the belief that suspects deserve to be forgiven; and forgiveness motivated by suspects’ or survivors’ sense of moral or reli­gious duty.

First, the view expressed by several popular and critical sources that suspects may seek forgiveness in order to benefit from gacaca’s plea­bargaining system is misinformed. Uvin’s argument for example that �[t]o benefit from the community service provisions, the accused have to ask for forgiveness publicly’ is technically mistaken.^[685] At the time of Uvin’s writing in 2003, none of the legal documents governing gacaca made explicit reference to forgiveness. In the current context, the 2008 revi­sion of the Gacaca Law does not require suspects to ask for forgiveness publicly but rather from a range of state officials, possibly behind closed doors.

Second, following closely from the problem of linking forgiveness with plea-bargaining, there are both practical and moral problems with the wider motivation of seeking, or granting, forgiveness in order to achieve certain pragmatic ends. Especially when detainees seek forgiveness in order to reduce their sentences or to hasten their reintegration into the community, pragmatic motivations for forgiveness will often prove counter-productive. Many detainees openly emphasise these pragmatic motivations for their requests for forgiveness, rather than expressing genuine remorse for their crimes. In response, without sincere, complete confessions, apologies and requests for forgiveness from detainees, most survivors will refuse to forgive them.

In moral terms, detainees’ requests for forgiveness that are driven by pragmatic motivations, rather than by sincere remorse for their crimes, are illegitimate. Regardless of whether or not survivors find suspects’ con­fessions and requests for forgiveness convincing, suspects should seek for­giveness foremost because they wish to express remorse to their victims. The desire to achieve pragmatic benefits of forgiveness, such as reduced sentences or hastier reintegration into the community, should, if any­thing, be a secondary motivation. Not only suspects, however, express pragmatic motivations for seeking forgiveness; survivors also describe similar benefits of forgiving perpetrators, particularly their desire to over­come debilitating forms of anger and resentment, employing forgiveness as what Robert Enright describes as a �self-healing strategy’.^[686] Enright argues that a key reason why some victims of mass crimes forgive their transgressors is because, in doing so, they will experience healing from anger and a desire for revenge and thus a form of rehumanisation as a result of achieving greater social harmony with perpetrators.

How legitimate are survivors’, rather than suspects’, pragmatic motiv­ations for forgiveness? Certainly survivors’ personal motivations for granting forgiveness are more justified than guilty suspects’. Survivors are morally entitled to pursue personal healing after the genocide, and for­giving perpetrators for many survivors will aid this objective. However, forgiveness loses much of its meaning when survivors pursue it solely for their own gain. As the philosopher Aurel Kolnai argues, forgiveness is best viewed as an �exquisite act of charity or benevolence’, in which the forgiver is motivated primarily by a spirit of magnanimity.^[687] Forgiveness is a gift that the forgiver bestows upon the perpetrator out of feelings of compassion and generosity, rather than for personal gain, regardless of how legitimate the forgiver’s benefits from forgiving may be. Therefore, while it is perhaps inevitable that pragmatic calculations enter into for­giveness, such motivations devalue it in moral terms.

Third, the notion of forgiveness as a gift is important for counter­ing a view implied by some detainees that survivors should grant them forgiveness because they deserve it. Some detainees suggest they have earned forgiveness by offering complete confessions, sincere apolo­gies and requests for forgiveness or committing other favourable acts towards survivors. The problem with such a view is that, by definition, forgiveness can never be deserved. Jacques Derrida makes this point convincingly when he describes the �paradox' of forgiveness: forgive­ness is paradoxical, Derrida argues, because �forgiveness forgives only the unforgivable.'^[688] If forgiveness entailed forgiving only the forgivable, then forgiveness would be rendered meaningless; it would imply that, by its very nature, a certain wrongdoing could deserve or justify forgive­ness, thus rendering forgiveness superfluous. Forgiveness only retains its meaning and power as a supererogatory virtue. Derrida recognises, and is sympathetic to the notion, that pragmatic considerations often motivate forgiveness, especially for victims who seek release from anger and hatred. However, in its purest sense, Derrida argues, forgiveness is �hyperbolic, mad'; a �plunge... into the night of the unintelligible'.^[689] Therefore, detainees cannot justifiably argue that they warrant forgiveness.

Fourth, the notion of forgiveness as a gift illuminates problems with another commonly expressed motivation for forgiveness, namely the view that survivors have a Christian obligation to forgive perpetrators. Problems with the view of forgiveness as a duty echo problems with the notion of forgiveness as desert. Some survivors argue that they must forgive perpetrators, regardless of the latter's motivations for requesting forgiveness, because their Christian faith requires them to forgive out of gratitude for God's mercy. According to a common doctrine in many Christian denominations, an individual's forgiveness from God is con­tingent upon the fulfilment of two criteria: the repentance of sins and, in turn, his or her forgiveness of others for their sins. Some denominations, particularly within Protestantism, contest this doctrine and emphasise only the first of these criteria, arguing that believers will receive immedi­ate, divine forgiveness when they confess their sins to God and ask for his forgiveness. In this second view, forgiving fellow humans is an act separ­ate from receiving forgiveness from God. Nevertheless, the view that for­giveness from God is contingent upon granting forgiveness to others is a likely motivation for many Rwandans' view that survivors should forgive perpetrators out of a sense of Christian duty.

The notion, though, that individuals �must forgive because God for­gives', with its implication of an unconditional obligation to forgive per­petrators, is problematic on both theological and practical grounds. On a theological level, absent from some suspects' and survivors' descriptions of a supposed duty to grant forgiveness in response to God's gift of grace is the fact that, even in biblical accounts of forgiveness, God only for­gives sinners after they have confessed their sins. Furthermore, within the scope of God's mercy, forgiveness is still conditional upon the spirit of sincerity in which individuals confess and express remorse. In the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus tells a parable of a Pharisee and a tax collector who come to the temple to pray. The Pharisee stands in the centre of the temple where the crowds can hear him and prays pompously: �God, I thank you that I am not like other men - robbers, evildoers, adulterers - or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.'^[690] The tax collector in contrast expresses profound humility and remorse for his sins, laying on his chest and praying, �God, have mercy on me, a sinner.'^[691] Jesus concludes, �I tell you that this [tax collector], rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.'^[692] God rejected the Pharisee's prayer because it lacked humility and sin­cerity. The tax collector's prayer, on the other hand, found divine favour because it expressed genuine remorse and a sincere desire for forgiveness. In the context of gacaca, therefore, even survivors who feel that their Christian faith requires them to forgive genocide perpetrators are free to refuse to forgive perpetrators if they doubt the honesty and sincer­ity of their confessions. On theological grounds, survivors retain a cru­cial degree of personal judgment; on occasions, they may discern that it would be unjustified to forgive perpetrators whose confessions seem con­trived. In essence, the Christian obligation is not to forgive always but to demonstrate a readiness to forgive when perpetrators display genuine remorse. While forgiveness does not incorporate any element of desert, it retains a crucial element of conditionality.

On practical grounds, the interpretation of a biblical commandment to forgive unconditionally amounts to a damaging level of coercion. This view entails forcing survivors to forgive perpetrators even when they doubt the sincerity of perpetrators’ confessions or simply when they do not feel ready to forgive because of continuing feelings of anger and pain. If survivors feel that they are being coerced to forgive, their feel­ings of anger and resentment towards those whom they forgive and those who force them to forgive will increase. Therefore, regardless of the key influence of Christian ideals on popular interpretations of forgiveness through gacaca, we must reject the argument that survivors should for­give unconditionally out of a sense of Christian obligation.

Regarding processes of forgiveness through gacaca, one component of the sources’ interpretations requires further consideration: the time frame in which some sources claim that forgiveness occurs. In particular, the view expressed, often implicitly, by some popular and critical sources of forgiveness as a one-off transaction between individuals is highly prob­lematic. For forgiveness to be truly meaningful, it may constitute more than a single act during gacaca hearings. The view of forgiveness as a one-off transaction between perpetrators and survivors implies a form of cheap absolution of the guilty. Implicit in some religious interpretations, forgiveness constitutes a relatively straightforward sequence of confes­sion, penance and absolution in Catholic doctrine or private confession and atonement in Protestant theology. Most interpretations of forgive­ness through gacaca involve a two-way dialogue between the guilty party and the individual from whom he or she is requesting forgiveness, similar to the dialogue that occurs between a confessor and a priest in a religious setting. Most sources analysed here assume that the priest in the religious context - or the survivor at gacaca - may then decide to grant or deny forgiveness to the confessor directly after the transgressor has confessed.

Forgiveness through gacaca, however, will often take much longer than the immediate forgiveness represented in the religious setting. Many survivors will find it difficult or even impossible to forgive per­petrators because of the degree of their personal suffering. They may wish to reflect further on the confessions and apologies that they hear at gacaca before forgiving perpetrators much later. The precise timing and the amount of time necessary for survivors to forgive are important considerations. Viewing forgiveness as a one-off act undermines the pos­sibility that some survivors may only in time, after experiencing personal healing through other components of gacaca or through other positive interactions with perpetrators in daily life, feel that they are ready to for­give. Gacaca may simply begin this longer-term process, recognising that forgiveness is arduous, involving different stages of emotional transition, and requires great courage from those who confess and ask for forgive­ness, but particularly from those who grant it. As Brian Frost argues, for­giveness is a process, �rather than something to be applied temporarily, like a poultice'.^[693]

Finally, how convincing are the official, popular and critical interpret­ations of the likely outcomes of forgiveness through gacaca? The key to answering this question is to recall the distinction at the beginning of this section between basic and profound forgiveness. Basic forgiveness stems largely from single acts at gacaca and requires survivors' forgoing direct, personal revenge and feelings of resentment towards perpetra­tors. In this outcome, forgiveness requires that survivors vow to forgo attempts to mete out direct retribution against those found guilty of genocide crimes and to allow the state instead to punish perpetrators. Many Rwandans will undoubtedly consider basic forgiveness a remark­able achievement if gacaca is able to facilitate such an outcome, given the degree of hatred and desire for revenge that characterises many sur­vivors after the genocide.

From several of the sources examined above, however, it is evident that many perpetrators and survivors expect that something more than basic forgiveness is necessary after the genocide and that profound for­giveness may be possible through gacaca. Several sources argue that for­giveness will result in improved relations between individuals. In this view, gacaca facilitates a deeper sense of trust between parties previously in conflict as survivors come to view perpetrators' remorse as genuine and deeper engagement becomes possible. There is no reason to believe that participants in gacaca should automatically resign themselves to pursuing only basic forgiveness. Certainly in some communities, local conditions will dictate that only basic forgiveness is possible. In contrast to the negative views of critics such as de Jonge, however, my interviews indicate that in some communities the population desires the sort of pro­found forgiveness that paves the way for healing as positive liberation, deeper forms of engagement and ultimately reconciliation. Missing from de Jonge's argument is a recognition that some survivors, usually those inspired by a religious perspective, are willing to forgive voluntarily and to try to rebuild relationships with perpetrators. In such circumstances it is unjustified to encourage only basic forgiveness.

There are unquestionably major obstacles to achieving forgiveness after the genocide, not least the immense pain and anger that survivors must manage in order to forgive the guilty. Gacaca judges must create an open environment that is conducive to survivors’ dealing with these sentiments. No one can force survivors to forgive. Many detainees also offer incomplete confessions and insincere apologies, increasing survi­vors’ suspicions and feelings of resentment, and scuppering any hopes of facilitating forgiveness. The most crucial issue in considering forgive­ness through gacaca is the long-term dialogue between survivors and perpetrators that forgiveness entails. For many individuals, forgiveness will take months or years, ensuring that the process extends far beyond gacaca. While gacaca displays an unquestionable capacity for encour­aging suspects to confess to, and to ask forgiveness for, their crimes and survivors to grant forgiveness, often drawing on Christian principles shared by much of the population, in most cases gacaca at best provides a starting point for forgiveness.

This section has argued that forgiveness through gacaca may legitim­ately be pursued in two forms - interpersonal (between an individual per­petrator and victim) and divine (between a perpetrator and God) - but that the latter is only legitimate when combined with the former. Some detainees in particular argue that they wish to pursue individual-group forgiveness, in which they seek forgiveness from their entire community, or official forgiveness, in which they request forgiveness from the govern­ment. Such views erroneously assume that external bodies may forgive on behalf of the individual victims of crimes.

Forgiveness, as the only objective of gacaca that garners no men­tion in the Gacaca Law until very recently, best embodies the popular spirit of gacaca and highlights the crucial ways in which the popula­tion shapes gacaca to its own ends and according to its own beliefs. This theme underscores popular ownership of gacaca and the dynamism of the process. Rather than representing centralised state control, as some human-rights critics have argued, gacaca often embodies major social and cultural influences drawn from the population that find little expression in official discourse. People’s religious convictions in particular are largely responsible for the widespread view that gacaca should help facilitate for­giveness. Some advocates of forgiveness, informed by Christian doctrine, mischaracterise forgiveness as a moral or religious duty. We should view forgiveness only as an undeserved gift, which in its truest form is given in a spirit of charity and generosity, but which victims may choose or refuse to give. In opposing the notion of forgiveness as an obligation, we should recognise that forgiveness often entails arduous, long-term processes, par­ticularly as many survivors must negotiate feelings of anger, hatred and resentment in order to forgive perpetrators. Forgiveness is an immensely costly pursuit, particularly after an event as divisive and violently destruc­tive as genocide, and many survivors may justifiably decide that they are unwilling to forgive. As with healing, forgiveness is likely to entail deep and continued interactions between suspects and survivors long after gacaca is complete.