Trump’s ‘Board of Peace’ is really a Board of War

DONALD Trump launched his ‘Board of Peace’ at Davos 2026, with much fanfare, promising to “end decades of suffering, stop generations of hatred and bloodshed”. Initially intended to rebuild Gaza, its mission now appears much broader, marking critical global shifts and raising serious questions about what peace means at the global level.

Through his ‘Board of Peace’, Trump aims to redefine peace by promoting a ‘peace through strength’ approach.

The idea of peace as positive social relationships built on equality and justice has been cast aside. Instead, it is viewed as a form of macro-security enforced by the most powerful through threats and coercion.

This version of peace resembles the international relations of decades past, where stability was thought to be maintained through balancing the power of nations. Security was guaranteed by fear rather than rules or ideas of mutually beneficial cooperation. Arguably, the concept of a balance of power has eroded over the past few decades through multilateral institutions such as the UN, the IMF and the World Bank, which have gained increasing global power.

Additionally, grassroots movements such as those advocating for LGBTQ+ rights and climate-change activism have often emerged from the margins, cutting across traditional forms of political power. These changes Trump and his cronies despise.

In Trump’s view, a return to power politics is necessary, with the US, as the biggest kid on the block, acting as the world’s self-interested policeman.

Inauguration of the Board of Peace at the World Economic Forum 2026 in Davos. Photo: WEF / Flickr / CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

Peace is transactional or even extractive, with secondary gains for the US, such as oil or rare-earth minerals, flowing from the guarantee of security.

The ‘Board of Peace’ no doubt has been established to further this warped understanding. 

No-one really knows what it will ultimately do. But the trajectory of US foreign policy suggests it will operate more as a ‘Board of War’, legitimising global interventions mainly dictated by Trump, its executive chair.

It would not be surprising if Greenland is the first item on the agenda, with the board endorsing annexation to “promote” global peace. Iran and Cuba might be next.

Only one African country, Morocco, has been invited to join. This reflects Trump’s racist dismissal of African states as ‘shithole’ nations.

But from a more sinister perspective, Africa, rich in resources and riddled with conflict, also seems ripe for the ‘peace through strength’ approach. It could be awkward to be singled out for a Trump ‘peace intervention’ while sitting on the board.

The ‘Board of Peace’ also embodies Trump’s belief that existing global institutions fail to serve US interests and alternative structures are needed. Following his withdrawal from various international organisations, the proposed board aims to replace global bodies such as the UN. It will define its own agenda and legitimacy, centred around Trump, who is the chairman for life with veto power.

In Trump’s words at the launch, the board will “do pretty much whatever we want to do”.

All this reinforces the claim by Mark Carney, the prime minister of Canada, at the World Economic Forum’s annual meeting in Davos, that “the rules-based order is fading”.

The only way out of this, according to Carney, is that “middle powers must act together” in various forms of cooperation, underpinned by values such as respect for human rights, sustainable development and sovereignty.

This speech has been seen as a game-changer, particularly in liberal circles. Carney’s approach, however, misses a fundamental point.

While global institutions have provided a framework for a rules-based world, they have primarily benefited Western nations.

The alarm among Western politicians over Trump’s comments about Greenland reflects a delayed recognition of the power plays that developing nations have faced from the US and Europe for decades.

Western countries have often used the rules-based order to justify toppling governments in the name of democratic peace. They did little to stop the genocide in Gaza.

The International Criminal Court has primarily indicted African leaders, while the likes of Netanyahu remain largely protected. The UN Security Council frequently blocks resolutions that run counter to its interests.

If Carney and his coalition of ‘middle powers’ are serious about ushering in a new era, the normative aspect of their call for collective action requires serious scrutiny.

A radical rethink of the international order is not only overdue but also offers new opportunities.

For example, if the US is no longer interested in cooperating globally, bodies such as the Security Council could be dismantled and replaced with more equitable structures and power in global governance distributed more evenly. Such actions would create a different set of global levers and international players.

The danger right now, however, is that countries such as Canada and the UK – and, of course, the European Union – may become overly focused on the drive to reforge Western alliances while missing the bigger picture.

Nations around the world, including Pakistan, Indonesia, Turkey, Mexico, South Africa, India, and Brazil, are expanding their regional influence alongside the ambitions of China and Russia.

Trump’s national-interest-first approach could encourage other nations to waver in their commitments to the international order and even resort to force to resolve disputes. It is no surprise that some countries often critiqued for their human rights records eagerly joined Trump’s ‘Board of Peace’, despite the $1 billion joining fee.

They will be happy to be lackeys in the absence of anything else, or out of fear that their country might otherwise be next on Trump’s dinner table.

In this context, Carney’s ideas of ‘middle power’, Western-only alliances will do little to promote global stability.

Unless this new approach to partnerships is accompanied by genuine soul-searching about the biases, imbalances and gaps in international institutions, and is founded on renewed north-south cooperation, the world will merely replicate past mistakes.

If discussions on power are now the new norm, real change will only occur when global power dynamics are truly disrupted.

So, the discussion of new alliances should embrace rapidly developing nations and the inclusion and empowerment of the weakest.

This approach recognises that sustainable peace is built on participation and embedded in equality and shared access to power – it is not based on threats. Such broader devolution of power is exactly what Trump, as global bully boy, fears most.

Then again, maybe the ‘Board of Peace’ is just a classic Trump billion-dollar grift, to create a new ‘Board of Peace’ Peace Prize –with only one potential winner.

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Originally published by Brandon Hamber in the The Irish News, 28 January 2026

Also published in The Geopolitical Economist, here

 

Bonfires for Peace? What Northern Ireland can learn from Sierra Leone

In the heart of Sierra Leone, community bonfires are transforming societies, while in Northern Ireland, similar traditions can deepen divisions.

In Sierra Leone, the organisation Fambul Tok (“Family Talk” in Krio) uses traditional bonfire ceremonies for community healing. Initially, meetings around the bonfire focused on addressing grievances from the brutal civil war (1991–2002), such as dealing with stolen property, exile of community members, or even more serious issues, such as integrating former child soldiers or even murder. These carefully planned and facilitated gatherings, sometimes taking months to prepare, provided spaces for confession, apology, and forgiveness.

But today, as I learned during a recent visit, these bonfire ceremonies have evolved. As the war recedes into history, these ceremonies now address contemporary local conflicts, from disputes over development priorities to family and community disagreements that threaten community cohesion. Fambul Tok sees such dispute resolution as essential to a healthy community and economic progress.

The irony isn’t lost on those of us living in Northern Ireland, where bonfires serve as annual flashpoints of tension. While we can’t directly compare the societies, Sierra Leone’s experience offers two crucial insights for Northern Ireland.

Bonfire Ceremony in Sierra Leone, photo by Libby Hoffman

 

First, it shows that bonfires need not be instruments of division. While we cannot simply transplant their model into our different historical context, it challenges us to reimagine how traditions might evolve. Perhaps we need to carefully reconsider Northern Ireland’s bonfires within the framework of a long-term peace plan not as symbols of division but as potential touchstones for peace and reconciliation.

Second, Sierra Leone illustrates a truth Northern Ireland has long ignored: no meaningful development can occur without first mending broken relationships. As Fambul Tok aptly stated, putting resources into a community with unresolved conflicts is like pouring water into a bucket full of holes. The view in Sierra Leone is that sustainable development can only take root after repairing these holes — through relationship-building and reconciliation work at all levels of society.

This insight exposes a critical blind spot in Northern Ireland’s approach to development. The recently released draft Programme for Government speaks optimistically of building “a globally competitive, sustainable, and inclusive economy which benefits everyone.” Yet, it largely ignores how deeply communal divisions undermine these aspirations.

Community and economic development in Northern Ireland is messy. Basic infrastructure projects become proxy battles over which community will “really” benefit, whether we are talking roads, bridges or stadiums. The inability to transcend these divisions leads to absurd inefficiencies: duplicate community centres built in close proximity to service Catholic and Protestant communities respectively, a catalogue of shelved projects due to political differences after spending millions on initial consultations, under-populated schools within walking distance of each other because educational integration is opposed, and segregated housing developments that force people to travel great distances to access services.

Northern Ireland faces a clear choice. We can continue pretending that economic development alone, peppered with nominal “sharing” initiatives, will heal divisions, while watching as resources drain through the holes in our communal fabric. Or we can learn from Sierra Leone’s example, acknowledging that genuine progress requires us to actively and continuously mend relationships.

The path forward isn’t easy. Unlike Sierra Leone’s bonfires, which serve as catalysts for healing, Northern Ireland’s traditions remain stubbornly divisive. There’s also a deep fear that linking ongoing political division and economic development will paralyse progress. Yet that’s precisely why we need to heed Sierra Leone’s lesson: transformative change begins not with grand economic plans and platitudes about peace through prosperity but with the patient, deliberate work of rebuilding trust within and between communities and at the political level.

Development isn’t just about building new roads, attracting investment, or constructing schools and hospitals — it’s dependent on building bridges within and between communities and moving forward together. Until we commit to that harder task, we will continue to pour our resources into a fundamentally leaky bucket.

Published by Brandon Hamber in the Derry Journal, 29 November 2024.

Amnesty a line in the sand? It’s not even close

If we know anything about the Johnson government in the UK, they are not great at sticking to agreements or taking the views of the devolved nations seriously. The recent statement by the Secretary of State, Brandon Lewis, proposing new legislation to enforce a statute of limitations for all conflict-related violations in Northern Ireland fits this mould.

In July 2019, following a 15-month consultation on the legacy proposal in the Stormont House Agreement (SHA) of 2014 agreed by all political parties, the British Government committed to its full implementation. Two years later, it is now proposing to pull the SHA apart.

The recent proposals remove a focus on justice and investigation, favouring information recovery and storytelling under an undefined banner of reconciliation. All of Northern Ireland’s five main political parties, the Irish government, civil society organisations and most victims’ groups are heavily critical of what amounts to an amnesty for conflict-era offences. Yet, the views of the people of Northern Ireland, and especially victims of both state and non-state violence, seem to matter little.

Ostensibly, Northern Ireland victims are less important than a Tory manifesto pledge to stop so-called “vexatious” legal cases against former British soldiers, even if the price is also a paramilitary amnesty.

Yet, the actual case for amnesty in Lewis’ statement is rather flimsy.

Firstly, Lewis points out that criminal investigations are increasingly unlikely to deliver in court. We know as time passes this is not incorrect. But because justice is unlikely, should prosecutions be abandoned? Could we imagine doing the same for other crimes such as rape because it has a low conviction rate? Choosing to abandon prosecution is not a logistical issue but a political one.

Secondly, it is stated that the current system is not working. But there is no current system. It is a mishmash of processes. No systematic and over-arching attempt has been made to deal with the past in Northern Ireland, despite a set of agreed proposals being put forward in the SHA.

Thirdly, it is implied that amnesty is the only viable route. Yet the British consultation on the SHA points out that the overwhelming view from the 17,000 responses was that amnesty was not appropriate. Two years ago, it was perfectly feasible for the other SHA mechanisms such as storytelling and information recovery to run alongside justice processes, yet suddenly this is off the table.

There are other options under discussion. For example, British soldiers remain eligible for the same deal as paramilitaries in terms of early release under the Belfast Agreement. If convicted, a maximum of two years can be served for conflict crimes. A discussion on reducing the length of this requirement to zero is an option. More radically, another option is to consider amnesty in exchange for truth as per the South African model.

Finally, Lewis argues that it is the criminal justice process that is hampering reconciliation. Is the implication that offering a blanket amnesty will lead to those who committed crimes miraculously coming forward, sharing the truth and seeking reconciliation with those they harmed? If so, this is devoid of reality.

Furthermore, contrary to Lewis’ assertion of amnesty fostering reconciliation, the British government’s own consultation on the SHA points out that curtailing the right to justice would “risk progress towards reconciliation”, not promote it.

What we also know internationally is that amnesties can create a short-term hiatus in a political process, but when justice is evaded, it simply festers and re-emerges rather than creating reconciliation.

The Spanish 1977 amnesty or “pact of forgetting”, following the Franco regime, has not stopped recent attempts to prosecute those responsible. Spain remains deeply divided. In Chile, the amnesty passed by Pinochet in 1978 was overturned in 1998. This led to dozens of prosecutions of those responsible for disappearance and torture over the following decades. Even in South Africa, there are new moves to prosecute those who did not avail of the amnesty offered by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

In this context, the current proposals are not the product of some difficult soul-searching and the only option left on the table. It is a cynical and calculated political move.

It fits a pattern of political evasion of truth that has been and continues to be fundamentally unjust to all victims. It demonstrates how little Northern Ireland victims mean to the UK government.

The major stumbling block to reconciliation and dealing with the past in Northern Ireland is not victims trying to exercise their rights to justice, but 50 years of avoidance, untruths and injustice.

What is needed now is courageous leadership that fulfils previous commitments and confronts the past head-on, not politicians trying to draw fanciful lines in the sand.

Far from dealing with the past, the proposed amnesty will simply redraw the battle lines for the future.

Published by Brandon Hamber in the Belfast Telegraph, 15 July 2021.

Photo credit: “The Troubles,Belfast, Northern Ireland 1970–2 Coldstream Guards” by Kaspar C Licensed CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

It’s time we stopped kidding ourselves: ‘new normal’ is abnormal

I have published a new piece in Belfast Telegraph. 

In my work dealing with the impact of political violence, a constant challenge is reminding people that when addressing survivors’ needs during times of conflict, it is the social context that is often the primary stressor.

For example, as much as therapy for victims of conflict is useful, its value is limited if the conflict’s legacy persists and the social environment is destroyed. You also cannot think about conflict without understanding that it has differential impacts. In Northern Ireland, for example, the neighbourhoods with the highest conflict death rate are those with the highest levels of poverty.

When it comes to addressing the mental health impact of Covid-19, it seems we have a similar situation. We are acting as if the pandemic is only a medical problem, a behavioural issue (wear your mask, wash your hands, socially distance) and finally, a psychological question of coping mentally.

“Coronavirus — baby and mom” by https://www.vperemen.com  CC BY 2.0

The socio-environmental parts of the pandemic are under-emphasised, not to mention the political.

Yet, for many, their mental health in times of Covid-19 is not an issue of merely individual psychological coping mechanisms.

Mental well-being is undermined, for example, by losing your job, physical and psychological violence in the home during lockdowns, having a disability and living in cramped or unhealthy accommodation, among others.

Even those of us living in privilege are dealing with caring responsibilities, home-schooling, health issues and family and friends dying of Covid-19. All this in a context of 24-hour televised suffering and the Government failing to manage the process effectively.

Even for those lucky enough to have a good job, stress has been mounting over time, not decreasing. For many, the work experience (run from their homes) is like plugging holes in a sinking ship while continually eyeing the lifeboats.

Not to mention the daily struggles of healthcare and key workers on the frontline. There is no new normal, it is all profoundly abnormal. Many are confusing enforced haphazard adaptation with normalisation.

Of course, there are many individual actions that can help us cope: maintaining a routine; taking exercise; working on relaxation exercises such as mindfulness; getting plenty of sleep; ensuring you still connect with other people and, importantly, managing news and social media intake. I have used some of these myself. Problematically though, such interventions assume a standardised environmental context. Advising on actions such as relaxation, exercise and routinisation assumes you live in a safe, predictable and comfortable environment.

But like so much individual mental health advice, although well-meaning and helpful to some, it is acontextual.

Telling people to take care of their mental health while not talking about real-world needs is hollow.

Let’s stop pretending that bolstering individual psychological coping mechanisms can replace the need for environmental changes for some.

It is time for mental health professionals, employers and the Government to ask what people really need to improve their mental health during this pandemic. The answers they will get are not what they would want to hear.

The stress of those working while home-schooling and caring will be reduced by less work, not an online stress management workshop.

Some need proper working conditions and equipment. Others need professional guidance on maximising space in cramped homes and then their employer, or the state, supporting these changes.

In truth, an extra room in some homes would change some children’s lives more profoundly than anything else. Fixing the damp in some homes and ensuring adequate heating, let alone guaranteeing some families have enough food, would significantly impact on mental health.

Serious interventions such as removing an abusive partner, addressing alcoholism, loneliness, or those living with a disability in lockdown may be needed in other cases.

This may sound like a tall order, but the truth is real-life change is needed for many if we claim to want to take mental health seriously.

If we fuse home and work (as well as school and tertiary educational) life, we cannot hive off one from the other.

The realities Covid-19 has forced upon us and the problems it has aggravated are not something we only have to come to terms within our heads.

Psychological and social well-being are indivisible. What we are dealing with is a cocktail of problems at the intersection of Covid-19 health-related issues, the impact of lockdowns and social distancing, societal and political fragmentation and disparities in social and psychological need and support.

As hard as it is to consider in these gloomy times, we are being confronted with a reality that is beyond a short-term health crisis.

Instead of living in the hope of the vaccine, the next phase of pandemic management should target the diversity of need recognising how inequalities profoundly shape such conditions.

The advantage of such an approach is that post-pandemic recovery will be more sustainable and healthier for all. Otherwise, just as the legacy of conflict persists when we only remove the symptom of direct violence and do not address the underlying dynamics, varying levels of suffering will linger for years.

Published by Brandon Hamber, Belfast Telegraph, 23 March 2021. Also available on Medium.

Moment of Truth…Victims of Northern Ireland’s Troubled Past Can’t Wait Forever

I started working in Northern Ireland in 1996, the first question I was always asked was: “Did Northern Ireland need a South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC)?” This was understandable, as I was at the time working in South Africa with victims testifying before the TRC that ran from 1995 until 2003. The troubling thing, however, is that I am still regularly asked that same question nearly 25 years later. During this time, how many victims have died without knowing the truth, or obtaining justice for atrocities?

The failure to deal effectively with the past remains a stain on the copybook of the Northern Ireland peace process. A potted history of the saga highlights how punishingly slow it has been.

The most significant Government-backed process was the Consultative Group of the Past that delivered its report in January 2009. But it ended up shelved, mainly due to its controversial recommendation around compensation for all those who lost relatives in the conflict.

"PM holds Northern Ireland talks" by UK Prime Minister Licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Creeping headway was made over the following years, building upon the report in the failed Haass O’Sullivan talks in 2013 and subsequently. In December 2014, the political parties devised the Stormont House Agreement (SHA). It made a comprehensive set of proposals. The recommendations included setting up structures to collect the stories of the conflict in and about Northern Ireland, investigating unresolved cases, seeking information for victims from responsible groups, ensuring statements of acknowledgment for past hurts and identifying steps to build reconciliation. The SHA was put in a draft Bill in 2016. A public consultation started some two years later in May 2018. Over 17,000 written responses were received in the 21-week consultation. In between, the UN Special Rapporteur responsible for transitional justice significantly made two visits to Northern Ireland, tabling recommendations in November 2016. The British Government responded, “the recommendations can be best achieved through the full implementation of the SHA”.

In July 2019, a detailed summary of the consultation on the SHA was published. The British Government noted there was “an obligation to seek to address the legacy of the past” and it remained fully committed to the SHA.

But in March 2020, apparently motivated by political pressures from British Army veterans, the Government rowed back. The Secretary of State essentially proposed to pull the SHA apart, largely removing a focus of justice and investigation, favouring information recovery and storytelling under a broad, and undefined, banner of reconciliation. The Northern Ireland Affairs Committee rightly took issue with the approach, but then they argued for yet another consultation. Reading this abridged history, it is hard not to conclude that the dealing with the past process is nothing more than a protracted and shameful tale of delay and avoidance. How painfully frustrating must this be for victims and survivors.

This does not mean that a South African-style truth commission is the right answer. The exact structure of the South African commission, including its ability to grant amnesty to perpetrators who confessed to gross violations of human rights, is unlikely to work in Northern Ireland. Amnesty meant that some victims had to forgo retributive justice for truth in the name of the wider peace process. Closing down the potential for victims to get their cases to court, or preventing public inquiries, in exchange for a truth-recovery process is an unlikely (and arguably unnecessary) option in Northern Ireland. The public nature of parts of the South African process, with perpetrators and victims testifying openly, might also be a tall order for the more closed culture in Northern Ireland.

Handing over of the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission Report

The South African process had other failings. The administrative treatment of victims and the lack of follow-up was a problem. Sometimes a simplistic language of reconciliation and healing was used that implied that truth and testimony alone could mend a deeply divided society, rather than coupling this with a long-term political process and socio-economic transformation, ensuring equality between black and white South Africans.

On the positive side, South Africans were confronted on television and radio directly with the past and could not ignore it. We had to face the harm we did to one another and listen to the stories of survivors. The five volumes of the South African TRC report, built on the testimony of approximately 22,000 victims (not just the 1,800 who testified publicly), tells a detailed and thematic story of human rights violations. The report and the extensive archive provide a historically authoritative record that cannot be erased.

One of the biggest successes of the process, however, was when the TRC challenged narrow assumptions about the past. I recall a survivor whom we worked with over many years. She believed, as did most of us who knew her, that the police were responsible for her 18-year-old son’s assassination as they had routinely threatened him. Through the TRC it transpired, however, that her son, an underground ANC operative, was shot dead by his own Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK) unit, the then military wing of the ANC. His killers, who the family knew well, accused him of being a spy. Whether these allegations were correct or not, as they have never been proved, the news was shattering for the family. The personal price of truth was enormous. However, as much as it pains me to write this, the TRC did its job in this case.

There were many cases of this kind that challenged dominant narratives. For example, during apartheid it was common to hear about MK activists who had killed themselves in operations. It turned out through the TRC that some of these deaths were the result of state entrapment. The state also carried out what were called “false flag operations”. Sections of the security police undertook illegal acts, such as sabotage and arson, to give credibility to their agents; they also blamed MK activists for bomb blasts they had planted. It was these types of cases that brought home how “dirty” the war was in South Africa. But they also helped to create a “grey” picture of the past, challenging the blinkered view some had of the state and political groups they supported. Arguably, this loosened the narratives of the past, opening the door for new understandings.

Confronting the truth in this way is risky and unsettling. But is foot-dragging risk-free? In Northern Ireland, the past continues to dominate the present. Every day, we hear stories of tensions concerning unresolved cases, memorials and commemorations. Politicians and the public are in continuous narrative battles about who was the most responsible for the hurts of the past and why. Victims also cannot be asked to forget. A significant amount of work has been done by the community sector to fill the gap created by political indecisiveness. But still the unresolved past remains a threat to a stable future, particularly as new challenges, such as Brexit or border polls, loom.

International lessons unequivocally suggest the past will not go away over time. Many countries, where little has been done politically to address the past, such as those in the Balkans, remain polarised. Unresolved cases, as we have seen in Chile and Argentina, are also transferred generationally with new family members continuing the struggle for truth and justice. By any international standards, the undeniable pattern of evasion and political obfuscation of truth is fundamentally unjust to all victims seeking answers. Inaction on the past is not a neutral act, it is an active denial of rights to victims. It is also creating ongoing political tensions in itself. Something must be done.

The South African process is not a blueprint and had its problems, but South Africans developed it to meet their specific set of needs at a critical historical moment. South African politicians showed leadership and courage to undertake a concerted and holistic attempt to deal with the past. In Northern Ireland, a set of workable, locally developed and previously politically agreed proposals have been made in the Stormont House Agreement. These proposals are not perfect, but surely it is time for the governments and political parties to show some backbone and act in unison finally, supporting a way forward on dealing with the past? At the very least, no one can accuse them of rushing into anything.

Published by Brandon Hamber in the Belfast Telegraph, 12 December 2020.

A new dawn for South Africa, but a false start for Northern Ireland

South Africa has a new leader; the current negotiators in the North feel like a spent force               

In a strange way the South Africa and Northern Ireland peace processes have always been linked. In the 1990s both were heralded as examples of how deep divisions could be overcome, and co-operation fostered between former enemies. Other connections were more direct, such as the former ANC lead negotiator and now new South African president Cyril Ramaphosa’s role in the decommissioning processes as an inspector on behalf of the Independent International Commission on Decommissioning.

Two decades later, however, both peace processes have lost their shine.

In Northern Ireland a lot has been achieved. For example, a stable powersharing arrangement was running for a number of years, there has been substantial police reform and a dramatic decrease in political deaths.

However, the powersharing government has been collapsed for over a year. Social division also remains. Some 90 per cent of social housing is still single-identity, according to the Northern Ireland Federation of Housing Associations. Only 7 per cent of children go to integrated schools.

Although paramilitary activity has decreased, there were 30 bombing incidents last year. Assaults, mainly on young males, by paramilitary groups have continued at roughly consistent rates for the last 10 years.
Significant gains

For South Africa, redressing decades of racial inequality has been a priority. Significant gains have been made. For example, 93 per cent of South Africans now have access to potable water compared to 62 per cent in 1994. The ANC government has built three million homes, housing 16 million people.

However, a backlog of 2.5 million houses remains. The official unemployment rate stands at a staggering 26 per cent. On top of this, the former government led by Jacob Zuma was throughout beset with serious corruption allegations.

However, unlike Northern Ireland, which has now seen a breakdown in the negotiations to re-establish powersharing, South Africa saw Ramaphosa instated as president. A wave of new-found optimism has swept the country. In his state-of-the nation address on Friday, Ramaphosa spoke of a new dawn, turning the tide against corruption and tackling inequalities, while maintaining economic stability.

The campaign to remove Zuma has been sustained over a number of years, and has included media exposés of corruption, large public demonstrations by opposition parties and civil society organisations, a series of court cases that have opened the way for the prosecution of Zuma and his cronies, and latterly a determined bloc inside the ANC and its allies to remove Zuma from office.

South Africans have a new belief in democracy and people power, and have learned first-hand the value of a free media and an independent judiciary. There is new hope in the constitution, the rule of law and the institutions developed to protect democracy.
Frustration

In Northern Ireland things feel very different. Everywhere one turns you hear people complaining about the inability of politicians to make a deal. The frustration is palpable, yet the malaise continues despite the ongoing division, Brexit and economic difficulties looming large.

Like Zuma’s administration that suffered from illegitimacy and drift, the Stormont talks have lost their way, and have lost touch with the people.

While South Africans are optimistic on the promises of Ramaphosa’s “new dawn”, Northern Ireland wallows in the tatters of what was once called a “fresh start”. So why the difference, and what can be done?

First, in South Africa there has at last been a qualitative change in leadership. In contrast, the current negotiators in the North feel like a spent force. Although some top positions in Northern Ireland have changed, those who were there at the start of the current impasse remain largely the same. One way to change this dynamic is to rework the talks structure to include all political parties, bringing in new leadership.

Second, civil society participation has been key to the new South African impetus. It is time to reignite civil society interest in the Northern Ireland peace process. New ways of people interacting with the talks have to be found. Ideas such as a citizens’ assembly have been proposed. Politicians need to encourage new civic interactions rather than corralling around the stale and secret Stormont talks.
New energy

Of course, South Africa is not a perfect or a directly comparable model. The new energy will dwindle over time if expectations are not met. Time will tell if Ramaphosa can deliver. But the current situation in South Africa reminds us once again that change is possible and the re-set button can be pushed. Hope and vitality can be restored to the body politic.

We forget at our peril that a commitment to a new vision, farsighted leadership, civil society engagement and, ultimately, the willingness to compromise is what drove the remarkable changes in Northern Ireland and South Africa in the 1990s.

Unless this genuine spirit for transformation can be reignited in Northern Ireland, as it has been sparked in South Africa recently, the risk is that the Belfast Agreement will become a rather sullied footnote in history.

Published by Professor Brandon Hamber, John Hume and Thomas P O’Neill chair in peace based at the International Conflict Research Institute (INCORE), Ulster University, Irish Times, 20 February 2018

The original article is available here in the Irish Times, 20 February 2019

Can peace in Northern Ireland be model for Colombia?

As part of his recent state visit to the UK, President Juan Manuel Santos of Colombia made a stopover in Belfast. The visit, which was planned for several months, took on a new significance given the October "No" vote in a referendum to endorse the peace agreement between the Colombian government and Farc.

President Santos has routinely noted that Northern Ireland is a "reminder of what is possible" and various delegations of politicians, civil society, academia and business from Northern Ireland have interacted with the peace process in Colombia over the years. It is clear from the visit that President Santos is seeking an international mandate to continue to garner support for a perhaps revised agreement, as well as to get more funds from the UK government to support aspects of the peace process. Northern Ireland offers the president an opportunity to show that peace and compromise can work in terms of political co-operation even if aspects of the peace process remain unfinished. For example, proposals for dealing with the past have still not been agreed 18 years after formal agreement.

But being in Northern Ireland will also present challenges for President Santos on the home front. Although the international community have been helpful in the peace process, some of those who supported the "No" campaign have criticised the president for being overly focused on the international community and his standing, rather than listening to how many Colombians feel. The peace process has become about presidential politics and not genuine social engagement, some would say. The transformation of some former combatants from guerrillas into formal politicians, a key part of the failed agreement, also remains a contentious point in Colombia and one the "No" campaign exploited.

For those who oppose President Santos's political perspective and approach to peace in Colombia, the Northern Ireland process might not be seen as a rosy example. There is a sizeable amount of the Colombian population who still see any involvement of former combatants in government as problematic. The president is walking a tightrope between maintaining international standing and support, winning over more people to his position which includes the need for compromise with the Farc, and keeping the Farc on board. The latter remains a growing challenge as proposal from those opposing the agreement seem to be focused on limiting Farc's rights (eg to participate freely in so-called normal politics). The road ahead will indeed be bumpy.

On the positive side, it seems that most agree that a political agreement is needed to end the 50-year-old war. Colombians however clearly differ in the ways they think this should be achieved. Northern Ireland has balanced this position for years, and in that sense is a comparative case study to be taken seriously. It also highlights that peace is never a done deal, and that building peace, as obvious as it sounds, is always a process that requires constant attention and nurturing. This is as true for Colombia as Northern Ireland where distrust, separation and a legacy of violence continue to impact on how the future might look.

Published by Professor Brandon Hamber,  John Hume and Thomas P O'Neill Chair in Peace based at the International Conflict Research Institute at Ulster University, Irish News, 7 November 2016. 

The original article is available here, Irish News, 7 November 2016. 

Why it's a negative peace while we remain divided

Northern Ireland has made massive strides towards peace since the Belfast/Good Friday Agreement was signed 15 years ago.

The agreement is viewed globally as a positive model – particularly in the groundbreaking way that it guarantees nationality and identities, regardless of the status of Northern Ireland.

Politicians should be commended that, in spite of their different political aspirations, they have established the power-sharing institutions.

But in spite of this, those of us who study and practise conflict transformation would view the peace here as a negative peace. That is a context where political violence has decreased but the underlying issues that fuel conflict have not been addressed.

One of these issues is societal segregation. The signatories to the 1998 agreement recognised that societal integration was key to reconciliation, noting that "an essential aspect of the reconciliation process is the promotion of a culture of tolerance at every level of society, including initiatives to facilitate and encourage integrated education and mixed housing." But only 7% of children attend integrated schools 15 years on and, in spite of some slight improvements in residential mixing, most people go home to largely single-identity communities.

On the whole, people lead separate social, educational, sporting, recreational and religious lives.

“Union” by Reciprocal of Phi Photography is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Clearly, the commitment in the agreement to integration has not been realised, suggesting that – drawing on the sentiment of the agreement – reconciliation here is incomplete.

However, as the agreement has unfolded, what has become apparent is that what reconciliation means to different parties is not clear.

The original commitment to promoting integration has also waned. Politicians' inability to agree an overarching policy to promote integration is evidence of this.

One of the reasons why this policy has not been agreed is because there is no commonality on the vision of what society we are working towards.

Is the goal one of 'thin' integration or deeper social transformation? Are we going to settle for a society where the dominant communities are going to remain separate and, hopefully, equal, co-existing in negative peace? Or are we seeking more profound change, where all aspects of life are integrated?

Co-existing and sharing society might be an acceptable goal in the short term, given the history of conflict. But is it enough?

The Community Relations Council's peace monitoring report, which was launched last week, observed that the continuing absence of any agreed strategy for flags, parades, or dealing with the past – among others – has left the political establishment vulnerable to the shocks from events. This was obvious in the flag protests.

Although there is an agreement in place, the actual root of the conflict – the constitutional question – has not been settled. This is yet another reason why we need to keep building social integration.

When a settlement comes, whatever it is, a robust social structure needs to be in place where communities are not polarised and living and being schooled in separate groups. Without this, peace will always remain fragile.

Integration and deep cultural and attitudinal change, of course, will not happen overnight. But, given that 15 years have now passed since the signing of the agreement, now is a good time to reaffirm the spirit of integration expressed in it.

This needs to be coupled with politicians robustly clarifying their commitment to working towards integration and showing decisive leadership on how to achieve this.

Settling for division, or limited social sharing, may feel comfortable in the short term, but in the long run it will continue to erode the achievements embodied in the agreement.

Originally published by Brandon Hamber in the Belfast Telegraph, 19 April 2013.

Obituary: Duma Kumalo

Duma Joshua Kumalo, who has died aged 48, in Johannesburg, was best-known as one of South Africa's "Sharpeville Six". Along with five others, he was accused, in 1984, of killing a councillor. Duma was at home at the time of the killing, but he spent eight years in jail, and for four of these he was on death row. He received a stay of execution in 1988, hours before he was to die. In fact, when he returned to his cell after receiving the news of his reprieve, his final meal was waiting for him. He ate the meal, but said that something inside him died that day.

Duma's experience, however, also lit a fire inside his heart. He left jail in June 1991 determined to clear his name. This was his only plea to the Truth and Reconciliation commission, where he appeared in 1996. His wish was not granted, but it never deterred him from his struggle for justice.

Duma spoke internationally about his experience. He was a strong advocate against the death penalty and publicly supported Amnesty International. He also told his story through film and theatre. His play The Story I am About to Tell ran for five years in South Africa and internationally. It was last performed in 2001 at the International Conference Against Racism in Durban.

He also made He Left Quietly, with Yael Farber, which was commissioned by the House of World Cultures in Berlin for the drama festival, In Transit.

When I met Duma over 10 years ago I was working at the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation in Johannesburg. He was unemployed and still reeling from his prison experience. I offered him a job in one of our workshops educating local communities about the truth commission. Duma went on to be one of the founding members of the Khulumani Victim Support Group, a self-help group for victims of apartheid violence. Duma exuded warmth, and his sense of humour was legendary: if you met him once, you remembered him. He loved life despite all the hardships it had thrown at him. Duma inspired people. He may have lost some fights in his life, but he won a much bigger war. Muhammad Ali's words are a fitting tribute: "The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses - behind the lines, in the gym, and out there on the road, long before [you] dance under those lights." Duma, you were a champion of a man.

In all his endeavours, and throughout his time in jail, he was supported by his wife Betty, who survives him, along with their two sons, Lucky and George.

Orginally published by Brandon Hamber in The Guardian, 20 March 2006.

Photo by zero take on Unsplash

Getting to the Truth Through Talking

Conflict-transformation expert Dr Brandon Hamber asks what messages programmes like Facing the Truth convey and what else might need to be done to deal with the past

The recent BBC series Facing the Truth, which brought victims of political violence face to face with perpetrators, has got people talking.The dialogues, facilitated by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, are a stark reminder of the suffering caused by the conflict in and about Northern Ireland. It is sobering to think that the cases featured are a fragment of the thousands of stories that need to be told.

The programmes were a bold move and may have helped individual victims. They provide some hope for the future, along with the work of organisations that have fostered similar dialogues over the years, albeit behind closed doors. But we also have to ask what other messages such programmes convey and what else might need to be done to reckon with the past.

Although the programmes are not a truth commission but a dialogue, the central idea leans heavily on the South African experience. It draws on the idea of publicly airing grievances as a way of addressing the past, as championed by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. There are profound differences, however. The South African commission’s primary focus was on outlining the causes, nature and extent of the conflict through victim and perpetrator testimony. This testimony took place in separate victim and amnesty or perpetrator hearings. Although most amnesty hearings took place publicly, only approximately 2,000 of the 21,000 victims who gave statements to the commission gave testimony in public.

When perpetrators applied for amnesty in exchange for speaking the truth, victims or their lawyers could question perpetrators as to the veracity of their statements but this was not billed as a meeting or as necessarily reconciliatory. The South African commission was not primarily about victims meeting perpetrators and nowhere in its legal mandate does it say it was.

The BBC programmes, presented by veteran Irish reporter Fergal Keane, have now created this myth. Victim-offender meetings did happen on occasion as a result but largely outside the remit of the commission. In addition, such meetings and the commission itself were part of a more extensive political process. This leaves one wondering: Is Northern Ireland trying to walk before it can crawl or are high-profile encounters needed to move the process forward?

Photo by Chris Zhang on Unsplash

Given the stalled peace process, the programmes might get people to re-engage with resolving the conflict. The courage shown by participants can demonstrate what is possible despite the dense fog of political dilly-dallying. However, focusing on the victims can also inadvertently suggest that it is the responsibility of victims, rather than wider society, to reconcile as the first step to change, thus burdening victims with another liability. Some victims could feel pressured to forgive, or perpetrators compelled into expressing remorse they don’t really feel, especially on television.

The programmes’ focus is the stories of those directly affected by or acting in the conflict. There is no context provided or debate about the causes. There was no questioning of the statements given by offenders, thus allowing them to define the truth. Truth commissions traditionally question and try to reach forensic truth. Emotive television of this type also invariably draws one to the plight of the victims. This is important but conflict resolution is not only about sympathising with victims, important as that is. It demands that everyone across society recognises their own capacity for wrongdoing at the same time.

In the project Healing Through Remembering, a five-year-old initiative that brings together over 80 people from different political perspectives each month to wrestle with questions about the past, the issue of considering one’s own role in the past is discussed under the rubric of “reflection”. Reflecting on the past, not merely remembering it, necessitates that we consider not only victims’ suffering but also how we all supported or fuelled the conflict through direct action, our attitudes or our failure to act.

Resolving conflict requires reflection and public debate on levels of complicity and guilt, not only recognition of the hurt caused or confessions from direct actors. This process should be supported by public acknowledgment of hurts inflicted. This leaves no one untouched, and all institutions need to examine their role in the past — among others, paramilitaries, the governments, churches, the judiciary, political parties, the education system and the media.

The view of Healing Through Remembering is that there are no quick fixes and no one is neutral in protracted political conflict. A range of interrelated options for dealing with the past are required, such as a living memorial museum, a day of reflection, a network of commemoration projects, and collective storytelling. For truth recovery, an informed debate is necessary, evidenced by the misperceptions created by the recent programmes. To this end, Healing Through Remembering will shortly be launching five detailed options for truth recovery for public discussion. There is no doubt that the BBC programmes have stimulated debate on dealing with the past. Questions, however, remain as to whether the focus on victims and offenders, as in the first major media intervention on this issue, has not confounded the reconciliation discussion. It certainly has confused many as to what really happened in South Africa. A more complicated, nuanced and reflexive debate about the past is needed, with a healthy and functional political context and, of course, the media have a role in this. But in the long run, this will demand something more subtle than eerie music and darkly lit forums where victims and perpetrators meet in the glare of the camera, no matter how moving or personally transformative such meetings might be. 

Originally published by Brandon Hamber in the Daily Ireland, 14 March 2006

Dr Brandon Hamber is a conflict-transformation expert from South Africa living in Belfast and a consultant to the cross-community project Healing Through Remembering. His views do not necessarily reflect those of all the members of the project. Contact mail@brandonhamber.com. Visit the www.brandonhamber.com for more information

Let's forge alliances with US liberals and progressives

Rite and Reason: Serious analysis of conservative politics developing world and tiger economies is desperately needed, writes Dr Brandon Hamber.

Millions of Americans feel that the moral world is crumbling around them. When asked shortly before the election last year what issues mattered most in choosing a president, a New York Times survey revealed that "moral values" ranked top with the economy and jobs, followed by terrorism and the Iraq war.

Tax, education and healthcare were not ranked so highly. In the eyes of many Americans, a strong, principled leader that can oppose abortion, stem-cell research, and gay marriage is needed. Just over half of voting Americans feel that George Bush is such a person. To the remainder, Bush as a moral icon is laughable given his warmongering overseas.

But democracy has spoken and Bush is now embedding the conservative revolution he began in his first term. This is typified by the nomination and subsequent appointment of Paul Wolfowitz, a staunch advocate for military action, as head of the World Bank.

It is easy to treat the conservative turn in US politics as the result of misguided support for Bush by foolish Bible-bashers.

But the problem is more complex. It is time to face the fact that the right-wing in the US is organised. The Republicans moved door-to-door securing their position utilising 1.2 million volunteers to win votes. They sold "faith, family and flag" and most voters bought it. This suggests many fear a global moral vacuum that they think the Republicans can fill.

Such views litter internet chat rooms. As one Bush supporter put it, "I'm sorry but I don't lose sleep over Iraq. What I do lose sleep over is my children's future in the immoral cesspit that this country is becoming".

Photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash

We all want a safe and decent world that embodies good values. This is why Bush has the support of some moderates as well as his traditional neo-conservatives and Christian fundamentalists. Their votes have endorsed, whether knowingly or not, an approach whereby the language of moral values will continue to be used to hide a value-free political and economic agenda.

The politics of morality is the new global battleground. The results can be disastrous. Estimates put the death toll in Iraq at between 20,000 and 100,000 civilians. They were killed in the name of freedom, democracy and to allegedly make the world a safer place.

But who has really benefited from this "moral" campaign?

Mostly those who sell weapons, reconstruction contractors and private security firms, many close to the Bush regime. Defence contracts worth $76 billion have been connected to nine out of 30 members of the US defence policy group.

The developing world, too, cannot ignore this situation. The influence of the Bush administration is going to be increasingly felt in the coming years. Negotiating investment may soon not only be about crude economic negotiations. Is it possible that, for example, South African constitutional approaches to issues such as gay marriage could be on the table in future trade talks?

The language of morality may find resonance in conservative parts of Africa and Ireland alike. Think of the views of some churches on homosexuality. Will these confluences of interest be used to open more doors for Republican-aligned companies that give little back to local economies?

A serious analysis of the politics of morality and conservatism, and its implications for the developing world and tiger economies such as Ireland, is desperately needed.

It is time for new alliances with liberals and progressives in the US, many of whom feel besieged in their own country right now. After all, there are only about 1,000 days to the next US election.

Originally published by Brandon Hamber in The Irish Times, 28 September 2005

Dr Brandon Hamber, a South African living in Belfast, is a consultant on conflict resolution and political transition-related issues.

Project to help North come to terms with past

RITE AND REASON:  Time is running out for submissions to the Healing Through Remembering Project in Belfast, writes Brandon Hamber.

Although the conflict in and about Northern Ireland has its own particular manifestations, the challenge facing the society about how it deals with its past is not wholly distinct.

Most countries in conflict have had to, at some point in time, face up to and deal with the hurts that have taken place. Questions about truth, justice, compensation and reconciliation are inevitable.

After the second World War, the Nuremberg Trials were a mainstay of attempts to address what had happened. Truth-commission processes have been attempted in over 20 countries including Chile, Guatemala and South Africa.

These have attempted to paint as complete a picture as possible of the causes and extent of the conflict, and in so doing learn from the past so that mistakes will not be repeated. International tribunals, like the current Hague tribunal, have also become more commonplace in an attempt to entrench the rule of law globally.

Other societies, however, feel the burden of the past is too difficult to remember and choose to leave it alone in the interests of reconstruction. Mozambique, for instance. Some have chosen to write past atrocities completely out of their histories. For example, the Matabeleland massacres in 1985 in which over 10,000 people were killed by the Mugabe government is largely forgotten by the world.

On a different tack, some argue that the lack of reliable public information on the deaths caused by Western bombing in the Gulf War impede an honest reckoning with what took place there. And many African countries still feel that the legacy of colonisation has never been properly acknowledged.

The problem for societies coming out of conflict, especially where a negotiation has taken place, is that the solution to dealing with these issues is not as clear-cut as it was at Nuremberg and no perfect model exists. Remembering the past can be painful and contentious, especially in deeply divided societies. Each situation is unique.

The Healing Through Remembering Project launched in Belfast last year was set up with the intention of exploring various models for dealing with the past in Northern Ireland. The project seeks to identify and document possible mechanisms and options for how remembering should occur so that healing can be fostered.

The mission of the project is simple: it is to go out there and ask people for their opinions on whether remembering the events of the past - on an individual, community or collective level - can contribute to healing. Options identified will be published in a public report by mid-2002 and presented to the various governments.

In Northern Ireland so far there have been few willing to call for an all-encompassing truth-recovery process in which all parties to the conflict would have to come forward and acknowledge their role in violence. At the same time, endeavours aimed at uncovering the truth of some events are happening, with the most notable of these being the Bloody Sunday inquiry.

But there is growing controversy about how many more inquiries are needed in Northern Ireland, what they should look like and what cases should be selected. There is also a range of local story-telling, documentation and commemorative initiatives underway.

However, most commemorative projects focus on one community and an all-encompassing, cross-community reconciliation and remembering initiative has yet to be proposed.

Accordingly, the Healing Through Remembering Project is taking submissions and practical suggestions on the type of initiatives that people think may be useful. Such initiatives could include, among others, the need for more localised storytelling initiatives; more (or less) need for public commissions of inquiry; or a process like a truth commission that could try and develop an official history of the causes and magnitude of the conflict.

Of course, simply attempting to forget the past and move on because any more delving into it might destabilise the peace process is also an option. But this needs to be compared to the view, albeit optimistic, that a common truth about the past is a prerequisite to a solid future.

From this perspective, there needs be an acknowledgement of wrongdoing from a range of players, including paramilitaries, the state and those who turned a blind eye allowing atrocities to continue, before genuine societal progress can be made.

There are no straightforward answers, or one single option that easily stands out at this point. But there does seem to be a growing recognition - coupled with a high level of anxiety about what the revisiting of what the past might mean - that something in addition to the peace process may be needed if there is to be a sincere reckoning with the past.

To this end, the Healing Through Remembering Project feels it is useful to begin to ask the difficult question and seek answers through eliciting all opinions. Asking questions about the past is, in itself, a way of beginning to address the past, just as finding the public space to debate in a way that no longer involves violence is a prerequisite to lasting peace.

Originally published by Brandon Hamber in the The Irish Times, 26 March 2002

The closing date for submissions to the project is Tuesday 2nd April 2002. For more information on the project and for a submission form:

Got to www.healingthroughremembering.org, or e-mail: info@healingthroughremembering.org.

Brandon Hamber is an Associate of Democratic Dialogue and a fellow in the school of psychology at Queen's University Belfast. He works as an independent consultant to the Healing Through Remembering Project. Contact email: mail@brandonhamber.com

No justice in amnesty without reparations

The last few weeks have seen a flurry of media reports on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission's reparations policy.  Victims who testified before the TRC accuse government of moving too slowly on the TRC's recommendations.  The government blames the TRC for not spending all the money allocated to the reparations budget.  In turn, the TRC is accusing the government of failure to act promptly on its recommendations.  

Whichever way you look at it, the victims are getting a raw deal.  They have been victimised by what happened to them in the past and have had to watch perpetrators getting amnesty.  They waited for two and half years for so-called urgent interim payments, which, on average, amount to little more than R3500 for violations such as murder and rape.  To make matters worse, the TRC's long-term reparations recommendations, tabled in October 1998, still await substantial discussion that moves beyond political posturing towards exploring feasible options.

Recently victims groups have made some strong statements in the press.  The Khulumani Victim Support Group have taken to the streets to protest the slowness of government’s response to the TRC's proposals.  The Justice Ministry’s spokesperson, Paul Setsetse, admitted in the City Press recently that the long-term process has “moved slowly” and that “there are no intentions to scale down final reparations or to sweep the issue under the carpet”.  This remains to be seen. 

Concrete proposals need to be put on the table.   These must move beyond the focus on the minimal urgent payments, which have obscured the real issue.   A long-term reparations policy needs to be fleshed out and debated publicly.  If this does not happen, victims may have cause to consider different legal options.  One is to investigate the constitutionality of limiting reparations in light of the generous amnesty provisions.  The other option may be to appeal to the international human rights community, many of whom are itching to test more legislation following the relative successes of the Pinochet case. 

The right to reparation for wrongful acts has long been recognised as a fundamental principle of law essential to the functioning of legal systems.  In this sense the right to reparation is not new.  However, internationally the will to enforce it seems to have increased.  

The hiatus in the reparations process in South Africa is in sharp contrast to the importance that reparations is currently being given internationally.  The UN Commission on Human Rights will adopt in the near future a set of Basic Principles and Guidelines on the right to reparation known as the ‘Van Boven Principles’.  Furthermore, the International Criminal Court, to which South Africa is a signatory, will be the first international criminal tribunal to have the power to award reparation to the victims of crimes which come before it.

Photo by Tingey Injury Law Firm on Unsplash

Reparation is recognised under international treaties and customary law in decisions by the United Nations Human Rights Committee, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, the European Court of Human Rights and national law and practice, as well as in a number of other international treaties. Recent developments suggest that soon reparation will become an international standard not just a principle.  Therefore, if reparations are not granted to victims in the long run, and lets hope this is not the case, it may be possible for them to test whether this would contravene South Africa's international obligations. 

Another way in international law which may have relevance for the situation in South Africa is the developing concept of ‘legitimate expectations’. A 'legitimate expectation' is a tool of administrative law intended to provide procedural fairness. According to this concept, if a government publishes a policy or makes a representation about how it will proceed in making decisions, those affected by the decision must be given the opportunity of a hearing if the decision-makers act in a manner which is contrary to the policy.  Given the fact that reparations is enshrined in the act which gave birth to the TRC this may be a further route to consider if reparations are not granted. 

Australia has recently seen a successful case drawing on the principles of ‘legitimate expectations’.  This may set a precedent in which the ratification of international treaties will bind administrative decision-makers to take account of these treaties where they affect individual rights of their citizens.  For example, if the right to reparations is built into an international treaty, as it is in the Convention Against Torture of which South Africa is a signatory, the signatory will be obliged to make reparations.

Notwithstanding the reparations debate, there are also other international precedents that have developed recently which have implications for the TRC process.  Victims could, for example, challenge South African amnesties in the courts of other countries.  The reverberations from the Pinochet case in the UK has meant that the concept of ‘universal jurisdiction’ has become more widely recognised.  Certain crimes such as war crimes, crimes against humanity, genocide and torture are so universally abhorred that they constitute crimes against international law. A number of international treaties place signatory states under a duty to ensure that suspects who come within their borders are brought to justice, either by prosecuting them in their own courts, or by extraditing them for trial elsewhere.

Craig Williamson, for example, by admitting his responsibility for blowing up the ANC offices in London, is liable for prosecution should he ever come within British jurisdiction.   Other perpetrators given amnesty may also find that should they travel abroad from South Africa that the status of their amnesty will be challenged. There is also the possibility that amnesties granted in South Africa could be considered null and void internationally.

The survivors who came before the TRC have made an enormous sacrifice on top of the suffering they have endured. Our experience with survivors indicates what most of them want justice, not just truth.  The amnesty process has removed their right to criminal or civil action in the name of national reconciliation. Amnesty without reparations is tantamount to impunity.  Is the South African government now seriously asking them to forego their right to reparation?

At this stage, government would probably answer, no.  President Mbeki has stated they are committed to victims.  At the same time, however there is little evidence of a clear long-term reparations strategy waiting to be unveiled. 

The more victims feel frustrated by the delay in meaningful reparations, the more likely they will be to seek alternative forms of redress; a situation the government should closely attend to if it wishes to avoid international embarrassment. 

Originally published by Brandon Hamber &  Bill Dishington, Sunday Independent, 25 June 2000

Brandon Hamber was a former Programme Manager at the Centre for the Study of Violence & Reconciliation in Johannesburg.

Bill Dishington is Information Director from Redress in London.

Official silence on reparations cheats victims of past conflicts of their rights

A basic value recognised through the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was that it is better to deal with difficulties than to keep them hidden.  Yet, when it comes to the issue of reparations for those wronged in the political conflicts of the past, it appears that the government, which is responsible for implementing the TRC recommendations, is choosing to ignore the issue completely.  They appear to hope that if they do not say anything their responsibility will be forgotten. 

The TRC handed over its reparations proposals, which include both financial and symbolic strategies to assist victims, to government in October 1998.  Sixteen months later there has been no substantial debate in parliament.  The lack of government involvement has so stifled discussion that the issue is in danger of falling off the agenda.   Thabo Mbeki even failed to mention follow up to the TRC in his opening address to parliament

The result of the general lack of government engagement with follow up to the TRC has created a political vacuum.  Government is filling this gap with claims that they do not have enough money to make reparations – an odd statement considering they have not investigated possible options for funding.   Other people are fond of labeling victims by saying that the struggle was not about money.  This conveniently denies victims their legal rights and implies that those who went before the TRC, despite being encouraged to do so, went only for opportunistic reasons.  

Still others point out that the 18 000 odd TRC victims eligible for reparations do not represent the majority of those victimised by apartheid. They argue, perhaps correctly, that reparations should benefit entire communities.  But this view fails to acknowledge that those who came forward to the TRC did so in good faith and speaking before the TRC was an opportunity available to all South Africans.  

The Constitutional Court ruled that amnesty could be granted because reparations, be they broad or specific, will be made available.   The UN Economic and Social Council clearly states that survivors and the families of victims of human rights violations have a right to truth, a right to justice, a right to non-recurrence and the right to reparation.    There are at least five other international instruments, which talk of the need and right to reparation. 

Given this it is sad that the South African government, which is supposedly in sync with international human rights trends, has not even started to review such instruments.  This is even more distressing in the context that we have already circumvented the right to justice for many victims through the granting of amnesty. 

 It is startling that the government has only made one public announcement about reparations since October 1998.  The Ministry of Justice released a reactive statement in late 1999 following the victim’s protests to highlight the government’s slow progress on the issue of reparations.  Predictably, costs were highlighted in the Ministry of Justice’s statement as a “major constraint” to implementing the TRC recommendations.  Perhaps this is a factor, but at this stage, it is pure speculation considering no substantial research has been undertaken into the issue.

Photo by Old Mate on Unsplash

The lack of public debate so far runs the risk of reducing the critical question of reparations to the pragmatics of cost before any principles have been set.  Step one in the process should be to establish whether survivors of violence have a right to reparation in the first place.  To date, most South Africans and government have failed to even attempt to answer this question.  The principle must be established, and a thorough investigation undertaken before government starts to say the costs of a reparation programme are too great.

Furthermore, developing countries have borne these sorts of costs before.  In Chile - a country with a GDP per capita not very much higher than ours - children of those killed during the military dictatorship of Pinochet have a right to a monthly pension until they reach 25 years of age. For the rest of the beneficiaries the pension is for life. The monthly pension is between R1,400 and R2,000 for the family of the deceased depending on the number of dependants.  About 800 scholarships a year are also granted to the families of victims.  Victims also get free medical and psychological care. The fiscal burden of this programme is about R120 million per year.   The South African TRC proposes R480 million a year - for the next six years -  for a country over three times the size of Chile.

Over the next few years, government will find 30 billion rand to buy weapons, and even during the life of the TRC they found about R100 million a year to keep the process afloat, but they seem unwilling to consider finding funds to finish the process.

The political will to assist victims seems to be gone. However, letting sleeping dogs lie is rarely the cry of the victims.  Granted reparations cannot bring back the dead, but they are a moral right in any healthy society.  In the context of the loss of a breadwinner they can help restore a family to their previous level of subsistence.  Importantly, they reaffirm the victim’s dignity – something accusations of opportunism and government lethargy severely undermine.  Reparations tell the survivor that they are important and a valued member of society. 

A letter from the Truth Commission informing you that you are now officially ‘a victim’, is surely not enough to heal wounds and acknowledge pain. To date, well over 500 people have been granted amnesty in South Africa for murder and torture.  Granted, reparations alone cannot fully cancel the injustice of amnesty, but it is a start. 

The bare minimum is that we should debate the issue of reparations publicly and honestly.   If we then get to the point that we think reparations should not be granted, then we need to have the courage to stand face to face with victims and tell them that, despite their sacrifices, they have been deprioritised in favour of another budget item.  

Originally published  by Brandon Hamber in the Sunday Independent, 20 February 2000

Brandon Hamber was, at the time, co-ordinator of the Transition and Reconciliation Unit at the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation (CSVR).