Friday, March 30, 2012

Between amnesia and revenge: a look into the South African Truth & Reconciliation Commission

Photo taken during South African Apartheid http://goo.gl/roXcm



Give a brief account of one of the conceptual problems that arise in relation to attempts to deal with the past and show how you think these conceptual problems might be navigated. Your assignment should concentrate on the tension between politics and theology.

Introduction
Political reconciliation has been described as ‘one of the most important challenges for societies … following periods of repressive rule.’[1] This essay will address the confronting issues which face post-conflict societies and how they should be navigated. The South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) will be the primary case study used to draw out the tension between politics and theology. In the second section, the tension between religion and the state will be discussed, and in the third section the tension between legal-political justice and religious redemptive justice will be analysed.
Truth and Reconciliation Commission
The South African TRC represents one of the most interesting case studies surrounding the concept of political reconciliation. Rather than replicating the Nuremburg trials or accepting national amnesia, Chair of the TRC Desmond Tutu writes ‘our country’s negotiators rejected the two extremes and opted for a third way.’[2] There are two pragmatic questions that will be considered in regard to the TRC in order to draw out conceptual distinctions: (i) was the TRC helpful and (ii) whose ideas did it use and are those ideas universally accepted?
Too often in post-conflict situations the default response by authorities is to opt for national amnesia. As Brewer and Hayes points out, ‘forgetting is not a real option in post-conflict societies’, and it often leads to ‘repressed memories’ which ‘intensify the harm experienced by victims.’[3] For South Africa to avoid national amnesia they had to choose between either reconciliation or retribution. In a pragmatic sense, legal-political retribution would not have been financially viable due to the sheer scale of the apartheid and the ‘already strained’ judicial system.[4] However, in the aftermath of one of the greatest human rights atrocities of the twentieth century it is legitimate to question whether the TRC was helpful and whether it denied victims a sense of justice.
Shore and Kline point to this criticism arguing that while the TRC ‘authorised … legitimate truth telling discourses’, it has also ‘contributed to delays in social and economic justice for victims and survivors.’[5] In this analysis the authors seek to distinguish legal-political justice from a religious-redemptive conception of justice. Justice, in the legal-political sense cannot be achieved unless there is reparation and retribution.[6] In post-conflict South Africa, ‘Offenders who received amnesty were immediately set free while victims who testified about their suffering and loss received nothing.’[7] Understandably, from this perception of justice, transition seems unlikely. Pragmatically, it seems ambiguous as to whether the TRC was the most effective manner of dealing with the post-conflict situation. The conceptual analysis in the later part of this essay will shed more light on the benefits and shortcomings of restorative and retributive justice.
Church and State
The second question relates to the practical issue of whose ideas the TRC used and the conceptual question whether such a commission with its grounding in religious narratives is in contradiction with liberal, democratic, and secular ideals. Philpott points out that ‘the reconciliation paradigm is heavily influenced by the Abrahamic religious traditions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam.’[8] It is important, however, to note the role that religion played in South Africa. Shore and Kline suggest that ‘religion in South Africa was never a private institution solely concerned with the wellbeing of individuals.’[9] In the context of South Africa, it would have seemed ‘illiberal’ to ‘restrict religious rationales’ given that religion did not play a major role in the causation of the conflict and that in the post-conflict setting, it had something valuable to offer.[10]
It is quite clear that in the TRC there was an ‘overt use of Christian language’, and not just in a civil religion or ceremonial manner[11]. Tutu described the post-conflict situation in South Africa as a ‘miracle’, resembling ‘God’s mercy’, and he sincerely meant it.[12] It is interesting that Tutu noticed the lack of clear boundaries between the church and state, wondering why an Archbishop was appointed as the Chairperson for the Commission rather than a judge in consideration that the TRC was ‘to some extent a quasi-judicial body.’[13] While the TRC had limited power in relation to coercive matters, it acted as the main body in dealing with the post-conflict situation in South Africa. It is understandable that the particular model of reconciliation that South Africa used would not be appropriate in all post-conflict settings.
Justice and Forgiveness
The final part of the discussion focuses on the conceptual tension between politics and theology more broadly. In this section the ways in which restorative justice and retributive justice achieve transformation for the perpetrator and victim will be discussed.
Retributive justice ensures that oppressors receive their dues, while victims may receive compensation and a sense of restoration through the idea of ‘justice being served.’ Justice of this kind is much easier to administrate under a properly functioning government. This is partially because identifying the victims and the perpetrators is much less problematic. In situations where crimes were committed on a mass scale and the people who carried out the bulk of the criminal actions did so on the basis of lies or coercion, the distinction between the victim and perpetrator becomes blurry. Retributive justice in the transitional justice setting may also reinforce the adversarial nature of the conflict, recreating the very thing it set out to destroy.[14]
In addition, it seems very difficult to understand reparation of mass human rights violations when any amount of compensation would be arbitrary as the loss that the victims and survivors face in most cases would be incommensurable. Reparation in itself is not necessary or sufficient in facilitating of fulfilling reconciliation. Reparation is also not entirely retributive. Thomas Pogge, in his work on the moral responsibility for global poverty suggests that because of historical injustices such as colonialism and the unfavourable setup of global institutions such as the World Bank, citizens of wealthy states who have benefited from and been complicit in the current global institutional order owe a duty to the world’s poor.[15] This is in some ways non-retributive reparation, or perhaps, reconciliatory reparation.
In regard to restorative justice approaches, truth commissions ensure that perpetrators suffer the penalty of public humiliation. For some perpetrators, this could be worse than incarceration or other state-based retributive acts. Restorative justice paves the way for healing for both the perpetrator and the victim.
Conclusion
In conclusion, there is an inevitable tension between politics and theology in the realm of transitional justice.[16] As the discussion has shown, religious-redemptive understandings of reconciliation are important, especially in post-conflict states where the demos shares a particular narrative. Restorative justice can be more effective as a transitioning mechanism than retributive justice in post-conflict societies.






Bibliography
Amstutz, Mark R. The Healing of Nations : the Promise and Limits of Political Forgiveness. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2005.
Brewer, John, and Bernadette   C. Hayes. “Post-conflict Societies and the Social Sciences: a Review.” Contemporary Social Science 6, no. 1 (2011): 5–18.
Department of Justice and Constitutional Development South Africa. Truth and Reconciliation Commission Final Report Volume 1. South Africa, 1998. http://www.justice.gov.za/trc/report/index.htm.
Edelstein, Jillian. Truth & Lies : Stories from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa. New York: New Press, 2002.
Hazan, Pierre. Judging War, Judging History : Behind Truth and Reconciliation. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2010.
Murphy, Colleen. A Moral Theory of Political Reconciliation. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010. http://site.ebrary.com/id/10421513.
Philpott, Daniel. “What Religion Brings to the Politics of Transitional Justice.” Journal of International Affairs. 61, no. 1 (2007): 93.
Pogge, Thomas. “Real World Justice.” The Journal of Ethics 9, no. 2 (2005): 29–53.
Shore, Megan, and Scott Kilne. “The Ambiguous Role of Religion in the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission.” Peace & Change 31, no. 3 (2006).
Tolstoy, Leo; Garnett, Constance Black. The Kingdom of God Is Within You. October 13, 2011, 1894.
Tutu, Desmond. No Future Without Forgiveness. New York, N.Y.: Doubleday, 2000.



[1] Murphy, A Moral Theory of Political Reconciliation, 1.
[2] Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness, 30.
[3] Brewer and Hayes, “Post-conflict Societies and the Social Sciences,” 12.
[4] Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness, 22.
[5] Shore and Kilne, “The Ambiguous Role of Religion in the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission,” 309, 313.
[6] See: Tolstoy, Leo; Garnett, The Kingdom of God Is Within You. Tolstoy explains how states require coercion to exist.
[7] Amstutz, The Healing of Nations, 196.
[8] Philpott, “What Religion Brings to the Politics of Transitional Justice,” 95.
[9] Shore and Kilne, “The Ambiguous Role of Religion in the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission,” 310.
[10] Philpott, “What Religion Brings to the Politics of Transitional Justice,” 100.
[11] Shore and Kilne, “The Ambiguous Role of Religion in the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission,” 315.
[12] Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness, 21.
[13] Shore and Kilne, “The Ambiguous Role of Religion in the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission,” 312.
[14] Ibid., 20.
[15] Pogge, “Real World Justice.”
[16] See Desmond Tutu’s responses to the critics of TRC: Truth and Reconciliation Commission Final Report Volume 1, 17.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Real World Justice: a brief analysis of Pogge's thought


Summarize and critically analysis the central argument of Pogge, T. (2005). "Real World Justice." The Journal of Ethics 9(2): 29-53.

Image from http://goo.gl/znLsw

In the article Real World Justice, Thomas Pogge outlines his arguments in regard to moral responsibility for global poverty. Pogge uses pragmatic and ecumenical arguments in order to gain broad support for his conclusions and practical outcomes for the global poor. His main arguments will be addressed in the first part of this paper and critically analysed in the second section.
Pogge attempts to establish potential from a fact, then an ought from potential, rather than going directly from an is to an ought. The potential is connected to a broad sentiment which can loosely be described as Pogge’s ‘could factor’. The first reason why Pogge is interested in the issue is because of the fact that 280 million people have died from poverty in the 15 years leading up to 2004. The second reason he chooses to write about global poverty is because of the potential for this fact to be altered through human agency. Pogge writes that ‘the better-off can improve the circumstances of the worse-off without becoming badly-off themselves.’[1] These motivations for addressing the issue of global poverty provide grounding for the following arguments.
Negative duties to ‘do no harm’ are considered by Pogge to be a ‘very weak assumption.’[2] From this broadly appealing assertion Pogge defines three areas where most citizens of affluent states are complicit in, or beneficiaries of the ‘largest … crime against humanity ever committed’. First, historical injustices such as colonialism have adversely affected development in some countries.[3] Second, the world’s poor are missing out on their share of the world’s natural resources ‘without compensation.’[4] Third, in a broadly consequentialist sense, our shared ‘institutional design’ is not geared to achieve the best human rights outcomes. These three points lead Pogge to believe that citizens of affluent countries owe a debt to the world’s poor. Such a debt could be repaid through a Global Resources Dividend.[5]
Pogge’s arguments based upon negative duties are effective at fulfilling his motivations in addressing the issue. A broad argument which is largely based upon negative duties is vital to the gathering of public support to reform institutions which adversely harm the poor. However, with the clauses that Pogge invokes it would be stretching intellectual honesty to state that his theory is entirely based upon negative duties. Pogge accepts that there is greater duty where there is greater need, and not where necessarily where greater harm has been done.
He has also been criticised for being ‘strangely demanding’ as it appears to be odd that a theory based upon negative duties could be so burdensome.[6] Ci argues that Pogge does not appeal to libertarians from a consequentialist perspective as his theory asks them to do ‘more to combat severe global poverty’, effectively altering the institutional definition of negative and positive duties.[7] To convince others to do more about global poverty is undoubtedly Pogge’s aim in writing this article. In consideration that it will inevitably be very difficult to convert the views of some people that Pogge is attempting to appeal to (such as libertarians), I think Pogge’s work plays a crucial role in the debate surrounding moral obligations to the world’s poor. I find the criticisms of his work valid but limited in scope. Therefore, it is my opinion that Pogge’s argument is reasonable and well supported.

Bibliography





[1] {Pogge, 2005 #339} p. 37.
[2] {Pogge, 2005 #339} p. 34.
[3] {Pogge, 2005 #339} p. 38.
[4] {Pogge, 2005 #339} p. 40.
[5] {Pogge, 2005 #339} p. 50.
[6] {Ci, 2010 #340} p. 86.
[7] {Ci, 2010 #340} pp. 86-87.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Subtle Conscription


What is the moral difference between abducting children and forcing them to become soldiers, and luring them into the military with opportunities they missed out on because of systematic injustices? In the last week there has been much deserved media hype  surrounding the use of child soldiers by Joseph Kony in Uganda. Invisible Children have created a highly effective Alinsky-like media campaign complete with key targets and actions. While I believe the cause they are advocating is worthwhile, I feel that it has brought to light some deeper contradictions in my nation's heavily militarised culture.

It strikes me as peculiar that society has deemed it appropriate for a child who is 17 years of age to join the Australian Defence Force (ADF) yet this same child is not allowed to purchase alcohol or drive a car. Children have various restrictions on what they can and cannot do because they are not complete in the moral development and capacity to hold responsibility. While some children develop at different rates, I believe that these restrictions are in the interest of the children affected, as well as the wider society.

What I cannot come to terms with is the perception that it is permissible to teach children to kill other human beings when they are still impressionable in their moral development. This may seem paternalistic, however that Is a mistaken assumption. Killing is not and should never be a normal facet of life. This is the distinction between paternalism and abuse. Children who are taught to kill at a young age become desensitised to violence. And when they have finished their service society expects them to fit back in.

 When I completed my VCE in 2009 I was tempted by the ADF Gap Year offer of an ‘attractive adult salary’ while being able to ‘enjoy a terrific lifestyle’[1]. I thought I could get by without earning $50,000 in a year so I turned down the offer. However, if I came from a socioeconomically disadvantaged background it would not be a matter of choice, but rather a matter of necessity. Martin Luther King, Jr. found it problematic that during the Vietnam war, America was ‘taking the black young men who had been crippled by our society and sending them eight thousand miles away to guarantee liberties’ which they had not experienced locally[2].  I fear that he would feel the same way about the current situation in Australia.

Professor Frater of the University of NSW at the ADF Academy claims that ‘46 per cent of students (attending the ADF Academy) come from families where no other family member has gone to university’ [3] . It may seem benevolent of the military to take in so many new recruits from such backgrounds. But in fact, it is quite the opposite. Our defence force needs socioeconomically disadvantaged youth to survive. Those who control vast amounts of wealth are in no hurry to defend their country yet they rely on the poor to defend their fortunes. This creates little inspiration for our government to alter the status-quo. It seems as though we must keep the poor in poverty in order to secure ourselves.

In the midst of worldwide outrage at the use of child soldiers by foreign militia, it seems easy to focus on how immoral our opponents are. However at the same time, our nation’s children are going to war to defend a country and a people who have let them down.

There are three steps we must courageously take to overcome this contradiction. First, military advertising must be kept honest. Second, the ADF must stop targeting low socioeconomic areas for recruitment. With less spending on defence our nation will easily be able to invest in the education of disadvantaged youth. Third, we must stop using child soldiers, and raise the military age to twenty-one.