The title comes from the testimony of one of the work’s central figures, Hamdo Kahrimanovic, a former history teacher in Bosnia.  Judge McDonald of the Yugoslav Tribunal asked him how an ethnic conflict such as what took place in the Balkans could have occurred, given the long history the people shared of living together in peace.  Kahrimanovic replied, “It is difficult to answer, this question.  I am also at a loss.  I had the key to my next-door neighbor’s [house] who was a Serb and he had my key.  That is how we looked after each other.  We visited each other for holidays.  My best man at my wedding was a Serb.  We were friends and he was the same one who threatened us.  It is inexplicable what happened to those people.  It was some kind of madness.”

Here are five nuggets I took from The Key to My Neighbor’s House:

1) While war crimes tribunals and international courts seem like an important, even critical, step in the pursuit of justice, the cynical view of the initial European commitment to a tribunal in Bosnia was that “It was a way [for the administration] to avoid doing other things… It was sort of a Band-Aid to hemorrhaging credibility” (65).  There seems to be clear merit to this interpretation – an international court has the potential to keep outside countries much cleaner than a military invention while still appearing that they are firmly committed to promoting the cause of justice.

2) Neuffer struggles in Rwanda with the apparent return to normality – restaurants and shops are open, Hutus and Tutsis walk the streets, and one might almost believe that nothing ever happened.  However, her translator explained that “We have all lost something.  We even have an expression for it: bapfuye buhagazi.  It means the walking dead.  This is the land of the walking dead” (251).  This reminded me of the Legacy Project’s visit to Chile, when we toured Villa Grimaldi with Pedro Matta.  Matta, a survivor of the detention and torture center, told us that, following his release, he didn’t have words to describe his experience and that he was, in fact, a “real zombie.”  He chose to go into exile because, if he had stayed, he “would have been a walking message of terror.”

3) The failure of the UN operations in the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda are well-documented.  But, Neuffer manages to expose just how egregious those failures were.  In the case of Joseph Kavaruganda, it turns out UN forces – who were committed to protecting him – knew two months before the genocide erupted that the Hutus planned to assassinate Kavaruganda and his colleague (349).  Ultimately, they would hand him over to his killers.  This is one example out of many.

4) While it is painfully easy to criticize international efforts in these countries, the work of William Haglund and others like him must be saluted.  His commitment to not only document evidence of genocide, but also pursue the individual identification of the bodies found is an act of great humanity.  But, even in celebrating his efforts, other reasons are found to be skeptical of international efforts.  The decision to temporarily suspend Haglund and review his work reflects the lunacy of the system, in which individuals and groups are tasked with a massive project but given no resources, commit great personal sacrifices in the pursuit of mission success, and then are closely monitored for any potential indiscretions.  There is overwhelming sensitivity to minor failures, but no commitment of any kind to identify or prevent massive failures.  It is mind-boggling.

5) One of the more amazing events in the life of the Rwanda Tribunal involved the case of The Prosecutor vs. Jean-Bosco Barayagwiza.  In this, the Chamber of Appeals dismissed charges against Barayagwiza, a critical figure in the Rwandan genocide, because his rights had been violated by the prosecutors.  The Rwandan government was outraged and moved to cut off relations with the international court.  While ultimately this would be reversed on further appeal, Neuffer points out how this event exemplified the differing views of justice.  “To the judges, the decision exemplified the purest justice… Yet to Rwandans, the decision was the highest injustice.  They knew only that the international court created to prosecute the genocide’s leaders had ordered one set free” (375).

Neuffer did a wonderful job throughout of blending reportage and history.  Sadly, there will not be a followup effort.  Neuffer died in an automobile accident in Iraq in 2003, traveling around the country to cover the aftermath of the war.

From an interview with Bertin Mogishu Baharane, representative of the DRC refugees in the Youngsfield Refugee Camp:

Question: What can you tell us about the life here in this refugee camp and what it’s like for the people here – both for people from the DRC and for people from other countries as well.

Bertin: What I can say about the conditions in the camp.  OK, firstly I can thank the government because we are here and I can walk at night without fear that somebody is going to kill me with a knife or going to shoot me.  Here it is different from the township where we are living.  At least that security is there.  But, life in general, as a human being have to live, really is very, very bad.  From the dormitory, I mean the tent, to the toilets, the bathroom, foods – it is a disaster.  I’m very sorry to say that.  I’m regretful.  Yet, there’s other services which I can’t say that.  I can say this is a disaster.

OK.  Let’s talk about food.  We eat rice.  Since when we are here, we eat the same food.  We never even change.  Even once.  Almost two months we eat the same food.  We eat on the ground.  There’s no table, there’s no chair.  Some beds, sometimes, we jump each other’s food.  OK, we’ve got ten showers.  Those ten showers, we are sharing them, we are more than 1000 people here.  We are sharing them with women, children, men, everybody, you see?  And as far as dignity is concerned, really, we know more from women than we should know, because women receive some privacy.  And now we know many things from them – you know, we’re African.  We’ve got our way.  We’re educated.  You can’t know what your mother do and what you know… things like that is our privacy.  But that we know, because of the way they are mixing us.  I can’t believe that until now that the government of South Africa can provide ten showers for 1000 people only because they are refugees.  I believe that, even myself, I’m ten years in the country and I pay tax.  I pay tax.  Where goes my tax money?  Why I have to share a shower with my mother, my granny, my grandpa?  They are in there.  That is very, very shameful.  And you know, we are here, Muslim and Christian.  Muslim women, especially those from the corner of Africa – Ethiopia, Somalia, and others – they respect men.  They can’t share bathroom with men, you know?  And they have to do that, because you have to wash.

OK, that is the bathroom.  Let’s talk about inactivity in the camp.  There is inactivity in the camp.  OK, I try to keep myself busy.  I write stories… I read.  But not everybody can do that.  Inactivity leads to many dangers.  Inactivity can lead to drug abuse, prostitution, rape, all those things.  You can see people there who are just sitting.  Young men, sitting.  They are waiting for what – for their fate, I don’t know.  If somebody really cared after us, would think about this inactivity… Some children, like Danny, who is next to you, go to school, but they can’t go to school anymore because he is here.  Some women are here – life after the camp – they will do something this free time.  Maybe sewing, maybe cutting, maybe you know?  Maybe something like that.  But we want to double that.  Who cares?

I mean, there is, even the way we are looked after – the security in the camp, also.  The security in the camp includes some kind of intimidation.  We are in the military base, but sometimes we see police come here.  Police are very frustrated, because police – I can tell you police, they’re very bad people here in South Africa.  If they catch you and they know that you are a foreigner, they will now treat you very, very differently.  And when we see police here, we are very frustrated.  I remember in Maitland in 2005, we’re driving to Cape Town, but one light was broken.  And they stopped us there.  They stopped us next to the Maitland police station.  They ask, where are you driving in this?  So we say, we are going to Cape Town for an emergency.  “Hey, get out of the car, you foreigners!”  We get out of the car.  I asked the one policemen, not because we are foreigners – is it because we are foreigners that you are taking us out of the car or because there is no light?  And you other people are shutting up – you are talking.  They tell other people to go.  I stayed there.  They put me in a very small room, they took off their belts, their gun they put down.  There was five of them.  One captain was a white guy, there was three coloureds, and the one black guy.  And they start to beat me.  And they beat me and they beat me, until one eye was closed.  And this side was like paralyzed.  And they ask me, where are you staying, where are you staying?  I said no – I lied to them that I was not staying in Maitland, where I didn’t want them to know where I was staying.  But I knew that I’ve got people next to Maitland, which is Woodstock.  I told them no, let go, I’m staying to Woodstock.  They dropped me, just on the road like this – hey, go out!  I went out and my eyes were swollen, just like that.  I opened a case against that captain.  After two weeks, they said the case was – they didn’t accept my case.  And what can I do?  I can’t fill out things that – I didn’t know anybody who can help me.  I say ok, let me leave; it ended just like that.  So, the security in the camps is very, very intimidating.  Soldiers who are patrolling with guns.  Women are traumatized.  We are – some people – to see a gun… It is very traumatizing for a refugee who saw those things in his country and ran away here.  And to see someone… especially to see a black man with this stuff, you know, is very, very traumatizing.  I mean, it is good, the security, but somewhere or someone is traumatized.  We need at least people, if they can thing about it, to be very, very good things.

A recent feature in the New York Times focuses on the village of Kwangamri, where events bear a striking resemblance to El Salvador’s El Mozote.  In this village in February 1951, rural civilians were pulled unwillingly into the conflict.  The government identified them as communist sympathizers, since some – including a number of them at gunpoint – had provided assistance to the guerrillas.  What followed next was the stuff of rumor until the TRC.

Originally, the “military’s combat report for that day recorded ’1,005 enemy personnel’ killed versus 3 soldiers.”  However, as one of two survivors from that day, Moon Man-seop, explains, the Korean forces gatered together the residents indiscriminately, ordered them into a freshly-dug trench, and then opened fire.  While one might question stories that can only be passed down from two elderly sources, forensic evidence has emerged with exhumations of that mass grave, where 108 people have been exhumed so far “a quarter of them women and children. Many were found with their hands tied behind their backs or necks, as Mr. Moon described in testimony before the truth commission. One was a child clutching marbles.”

South Korea’s truth commission has faced severe limitations, including a lack of living witnesses, the fog of memory, a tradition of silence surrounding these issues, and an inability to compel testimony.  The biggest challenge at present is a looming deadline, as its term expires in April.  Realistically, it can only scratch the surface of what took place during the war.  But, that doesn’t mean it will have been a failure – by beginning the lengthy process of uncovering and exhuming mass graves and bringing these matters into the open, it should enable the documentation and discovery of the truth in the years ahead.

The Liberian truth commission, as has been frequently discussed here and elsewhere, recommended prosecution for a number of notorious figures from its civil war, along with political bans for others.  At a recent forum for members of the Liberia Diaspora in Atlanta, commissioner Massa Washington reiterated that the Liberian executive branch alone has responsibility for implementing those recommendations.  This is problematized, of course, by the fact that the executive, President Sirleaf, is among those facing a political ban because of the TRC’s report.

Meanwhile, in Kenya, the discussion over the TJRC’s prosecutorial powers continues to move in circles.  Hopefully, the definitive statement came down from commissioner Ron Slye today, when he asserted that “We do have very clearly the power to recommend prosecution if we discover that there’s evidence of individuals who have committed both violation of international criminal law and Kenyan law.”

Clearly, the key word here is “recommend,” as is also the case in Liberia.  Truth commissions rarely come equipped with prosecutorial powers, which by and large is a good thing.  However, that also has the potential to limit their efficacy in promoting the cause of justice.  Without a government supporting the Truth Commission (or, at least sufficient government support to outsource responsibility where applicable to the ICC), recommendations for difficult prosecutions may never come to fruition.  While Liberia and Kenya are at very different places in their process of putting the pieces back together again, they are still both grappling with the same core dilemma.

While refugee hearings take place in private in Canada, Huntley’s case was reportedly based upon him being attacked on seven different occasions by black South Africans, targeted specifically as a “settler” and “white dog,” and, perhaps more importantly, the failure of the South African government to protect him.  However, one has to question the merits of the latter claim, given Huntley’s own admission to The Star that he “never reported the crimes to police, nor had he approached the government about the attacks.”

One has to wonder what kind of precedent has been set here.  If Huntley deserves refugee status in Canada, wouldn’t that logically extend to other white South Africans, even if they have not been the subject of attacks?  The basis of Huntley’s case seems to be that a) white South Africans are the targets of violence in South Africa, and b) the government will not provide necessary protection to their civil and human rights.  All of that is predicated, of course, on what we think Huntley presented to the immigration board.  Nonetheless, it seems like a questionable and potentially inflammatory decision.

Update: A quote attributed to Canada’s immigration tribunal’s chair, William Davis, boggles the mind: “I find that the claimant would stand out like a ‘sore thumb’ due to his colour in any part of the country.”  Refugee status in Canada – yep, it’s that easy.

And, while the German actions during the war remain a source of tension, the decades of Soviet occupation inspire more vocal, angry reactions.  At a ceremony in Westerplatte, Poland, near Gdansk, much of the focus dealt with those difficult years.  As CNN’s Paula Newton reports, “Many here will tell you they still have not come to terms with their fate after the war. Seven decades after the start of World War II, the conflict still defines Polish identity and history.”

Poland’s president, Lech Kaczynski, was more blunt.  He called the Soviet Union’s actions during the war a “stab in the back.”  A conciliatory Prime Minister Putin of Russia acknowledged that “All attempts to appease the Nazis between 1934 and 1939 through various agreements and pacts were morally unacceptable and politically senseless, harmful and dangerous.”  However, few concessions were made regarding Soviet occupation following the war.

However, the march to justice was not halted entirely.  Trials of those affiliated with the Pinochet government move forward, though not to the extent implied by the BBC in its coverage of the most recent wave of arrest warrants, covering 129 former DINA agents.  In this most recent case, most of the Pinochet supporters targeted were involved in Operation Condor or Operation Colombo.  A lawyer for the Ministry of the Interior noted that the cases remain complicated and thus investigators are using “discretion” in their operations.

Also today, however, the Santiago Times reported that the military continues to employ Pinochet-era officials, troops, and agents who are known perpetrators of human rights abuses.  Justice remains a work in progress.

Its modern application developed primarily in Eastern Europe after the fall of communism, where states sought to ban former communist politicians and secret police from public office.  Transitions Online recently ran an assessment of this process, examining what has transpired in the 20 years since the Berlin Wall came down, which is all the more timely given the events in Liberia.

While acknowledging the logical premise underpinning lustration, Risto Karajkov is largely critical of lustration.  He points first to the dubious constitutionality of such a tactic, noting that some lustration bill features, “such as retroactive effect, broad and ill-defined categories of offenders, and problems in differentiating between the public and the private sphere, have often led to repeals by constitutional courts.”  In addition, the process takes on a witch-hunt quality, causing non-tarnished public officials to throw unquestioning support behind lustration legislation, lest they appear as though they have something to hide.  And, this ties into a larger problem – while some people have very clear connections to the previous regime, others are less obvious and, in many cases, are built upon dubious sources.  To that end, Karajkov quotes journalist Adam Michnik: “‘It is absurd that the absolute and ultimate criterion for a person’s suitability for performing certain functions in a democratic state should come from the internal files of the secret police.’”

Finally, the power granted to the new government to purge or ban other politicians is a power easily abused.  When the Kaczynski administration in Poland tried to push through a massive new lustration law in 2007, it would have required the screening of millions of Poles and ban communist collaborators from jobs in both the public and private sectors.

Some of the problems identified in Eastern Europe might not be applicable in Liberia, or at least they might not take on the same prominence.  Instead of depending upon highly problematic sources, the information upon which the commission’s recommendations are based has come from an extensive process of public hearings.  The people facing 30-year bans from public office cannot, for the most part, deny their actions, though they certainly will defend them.

As a whole, it seems like the mechanics of lustration would be easier in Liberia, while the actual process of carrying it out would be significantly more complicated, given the popularity of so many figures facing public bans.

From Reuters: Is Sudan’s Darfur no longer at war? – Indeed, the war has concluded, if the departing commander of the UN/AU peacekeeping force, Martin Luther Agwai, is to be believed.  As Andrew Heavens reports, though, killings continue, with an average of 130/month from the beginning of 2008 through March of this year.  And, those statistics may not tell the story, as the international operation – as is so often the case – has seen its effectiveness limited by insufficient resources.  And, analysts note that fewer killings do not necessarily reflect an outbreak of peace.  Instead, the explanation follows, “many SLA factions are simply too small and divided to mount serious campaigns and have concentrated on securing existing positions.”  Agwai’s comments have many concerned that the international community will devote less attention and resources to Darfur as a result of misplaced optimism.

From the Jewish Herald-Voice: Texas Holocaust and Genocide Commission established – The title of this article certainly piqued our curiosity.  As it turns out, the Texas state government passed a bill creating this commission, comprised of 18 commissioners, to “help ensure that educators in Texas have the guidance and resources necessary to teach children the lessons of the Holocaust and other contemporary genocides.”  As Governor Perry stated at the bill’s signing, “As a state and nation, we are compelled to prevent future episodes of genocide and oppression by casting the light of truth on their history and educating our citizens on the circumstances that allow their occurrence.”  Texas became the 13th state in the US to create a commission or council devoted to this subject.

From Bloomberg: Liberian Parliament Delay Action on Truth Commission Findings – The headline misses one key detail.  Not only is the Liberian parliament ducking the TRC’s report, it has chosen to do so for a full year.  In the words of parliamentary-member Wesseh Blamo, “We decided as a body that we cannot take any decision on this report’s recommendation until we consult our constituents for about a year where we will solicit their views on whether or not to implement the TRC recommendations.”  Only time will tell if this is a savvy move to allow the tension generated by the report to defuse, or if it is a cowardly evasion of justice at a time when such steps are critical to reaffirm the rule of law in Liberia.

One of the finest primers on transitional justice, published in 1998, is Between Vengeance and Forgiveness: Facing History after Genocide and Mass Violence by Martha Minow.  Minow, a Harvard law professor, puts her extensive understanding of existing research on display here, as the notes comprise one-quarter of the book and provide a representative sampling of the best work in the field at publication time.  Organized around different potential components of the transitional justice process – Vengeance and Forgiveness, Trials, Truth Commissions, and Reparations – Minow’s work is measured in tone and works diligently to explore these controversial issues from multiple angles.

Here are five nuggets I took from Between Vengeance and Forgiveness:

1) “What responses do or could lie between vengeance and forgiveness if legal and cultural institutions offered other avenues for individuals and nations?” (21) – There is a temptation to fall into simple dichotomies when considering these issues.  Minow calls for more creativity in developing strategies that address critical components of both vengeance and forgiveness.

2) “Privately, then-Chief Justice Stone of the United States Supreme Court labeled the [Nuremberg Trials] a ‘high class lynching party’” (30) – In introducing her chapter on trials, Minow traces the historical development of international courts, going back to their origins at Nuremberg.  While generally taken for granted as a clear act of justice today, the trials were clearly highly controversial at the time.

3) On Rwanda: “A genuine possibility, then, is that leaders tried by the International Tribunal will receive term sentences while those influenced by or ordered by them will receive death sentences” (41) – As highlighted here, one of the challenges in applying international law to domestic conflicts is the potential gap that develops between those tried by the different judicial arenas.

4) “Tina Rosenberg…finds parallels between truth commissions and the therapeutic process that helps individual victims deal with post-traumatic stress disorder… She adds, ‘If the whole nation is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, this process would be appropriate for the whole nation’” (62) – In South Africa, the Legacy Project spent a great deal of time examining the issues of trauma, secondary trauma, and national trauma.  Rosenberg’s claim, echoed here by Minow, is an interesting one – but hardly conclusive.

5) “The self-image of the Swiss as neutral actors, free of blame for the Nazi horror, contributed to their current leaders’ failures of response.  Those very failures in turn triggered a spreading disbelief in the possibility of neutrality toward mass atrocity… too often being neutral provided a pretext for avoiding moral considerations” (111) – Using the classic example of Swiss bankers during the Holocaust, Minow raises the question here of whether neutrality is possible in the case of mass human rights violations, along with the tension between neutrality and morality in certain circumstances.