The Complexity of Justice in Northern Uganda
Many international observers have applauded the opening of the Ugandan War Crimes Tribunal’s first case, the prosecution of Mr. Thomas Kwoyelo, as an opportunity to serve justice to the victims of Uganda’s civil war. Mr. Kwoyelo, a former commander of the rebel Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), stands accused of twelve counts of war crimes. Unfortunately, in this sudden bid for justice, the complexity of the situation on the ground has been lost.
Northern Uganda suffered a devastating 19 year war between the government and the LRA rebel group. As is common in many contemporary conflicts, civilians found themselves the targets of both sides. The rebels murdered and abducted thousands and the government forcibly moved the population into concentration camps, in order to offer better protection, but also to prevent collaboration between locals and rebels.
War was destroying the lives and the spirits of Northern Ugandans. After three decades of continuous violence dating to the days of dictator Idi Amin, local cultural and religious leaders supported a different solution to the conflict. They fell in line behind a government initiative that offered comprehensive amnesty to all those who had rebelled against the then (and current) ruling party of Yoweri Museveni. Signed in 2000, the Amnesty Act was designed to bring the rebels out of the bush and enable successful reintegration.
Whether by choice or necessity, this amnesty received nearly unanimous approval from the community, especially in the most affected regions of the country. Not only was Amnesty accepted as the price for peace, but it was also seen by many as the only method to deal with perpetrators who themselves were often victims of the same heinous crimes.
It is this Amnesty Act, and the complexity of justice in a war with so many victims, that stands at the centre of controversy in Kwoyelo’s trial.
First of all, there is the issue of Kwoyelo’s background. Before Kwoyelo became a top commander, he was abducted against his own will at the age of 15. Like so many others involved in this conflict, Kwoyelo falls into the purgatory between perpetrator and victim.
Yet even if we presume that Kwoyelo is a perpetrator deserving of punishment, the Amnesty Act applies to anyone who committed crimes as a member of any rebel group. Kwoyelo’s application for Amnesty has, however, been denied without explanation. As Kwoyelo’s counsel argued, this appears to be a case of unequal treatment before the law: ex-LRA who had attained a higher rank in the rebel forces have been granted Amnesty and now live freely in their communities.
We have spent the last three months traveling around Northern Uganda doing research on issues of peace, justice, and reconciliation. Nearly 100% of the 600 locals who have participated in our research support the Amnesty Act. However, 40% of our respondents - many of them natives of the very villages named in the prosecution’s charges - support the punishment of Kwoyelo. The result is that the communities feel a sense of injustice at the same time that they express a desire to forgive those who caused them immeasurable suffering.
The meaning of Amnesty was not explained properly before the law was enacted, and an enormous gap now exists between the way locals perceive the trial and how the international community understands this event. While locals understand Amnesty as a way to forgive, forget, and move on (and this is how the government framed Amnesty in local dialogues), international observers often refer to Amnesty as a spineless attempt to achieve peace at the total expense of justice. So although many locals and many internationals would agree that justice must be served, their beliefs diverge when it comes to the meaning of “punishment” and “justice.”
This is the fundamental problem with the Kwoyelo trial: retributive justice - in this case, a trial that will ultimately sentence the accused to death or imprisonment if found guilty - is not what the victims of this war want. In all likelihood, they would accept the former child soldier Kwoyelo back home so long as he apologized for what he allegedly did, and so long as the victims were adequately compensated for their losses.
The sense here is that retribution will not heal the wounds of the long war. Northern Ugandans want peace at the same time as they want justice. Amnesty need not mean that perpetrators live freely, without accountability. At the same time, justice need not require Kwoyelo to be imprisoned or executed. A more victim-centred approach to justice is what the Ugandan context demands, yet such alternatives are being sacrificed in order to serve justice in the mould of Nuremberg and Tokyo.
The case of Thomas Kwoyelo reminds us that the only way to serve justice is to listen carefully to the voices of the victims. This trial will undermine the process of reconciliation if this man is punished without the victims of his alleged crimes feeling as if justice was served.
If Kwoyelo is executed, those who seek retribution will be satisfied. But when the international community returns to business as usual, the parents, children, siblings, livestock, livelihoods, and education robbed by this war will not return.
In other words, business as usual in Northern Uganda.
Northern Uganda suffered a devastating 19 year war between the government and the LRA rebel group. As is common in many contemporary conflicts, civilians found themselves the targets of both sides. The rebels murdered and abducted thousands and the government forcibly moved the population into concentration camps, in order to offer better protection, but also to prevent collaboration between locals and rebels.
War was destroying the lives and the spirits of Northern Ugandans. After three decades of continuous violence dating to the days of dictator Idi Amin, local cultural and religious leaders supported a different solution to the conflict. They fell in line behind a government initiative that offered comprehensive amnesty to all those who had rebelled against the then (and current) ruling party of Yoweri Museveni. Signed in 2000, the Amnesty Act was designed to bring the rebels out of the bush and enable successful reintegration.
Whether by choice or necessity, this amnesty received nearly unanimous approval from the community, especially in the most affected regions of the country. Not only was Amnesty accepted as the price for peace, but it was also seen by many as the only method to deal with perpetrators who themselves were often victims of the same heinous crimes.
It is this Amnesty Act, and the complexity of justice in a war with so many victims, that stands at the centre of controversy in Kwoyelo’s trial.
First of all, there is the issue of Kwoyelo’s background. Before Kwoyelo became a top commander, he was abducted against his own will at the age of 15. Like so many others involved in this conflict, Kwoyelo falls into the purgatory between perpetrator and victim.
Yet even if we presume that Kwoyelo is a perpetrator deserving of punishment, the Amnesty Act applies to anyone who committed crimes as a member of any rebel group. Kwoyelo’s application for Amnesty has, however, been denied without explanation. As Kwoyelo’s counsel argued, this appears to be a case of unequal treatment before the law: ex-LRA who had attained a higher rank in the rebel forces have been granted Amnesty and now live freely in their communities.
We have spent the last three months traveling around Northern Uganda doing research on issues of peace, justice, and reconciliation. Nearly 100% of the 600 locals who have participated in our research support the Amnesty Act. However, 40% of our respondents - many of them natives of the very villages named in the prosecution’s charges - support the punishment of Kwoyelo. The result is that the communities feel a sense of injustice at the same time that they express a desire to forgive those who caused them immeasurable suffering.
The meaning of Amnesty was not explained properly before the law was enacted, and an enormous gap now exists between the way locals perceive the trial and how the international community understands this event. While locals understand Amnesty as a way to forgive, forget, and move on (and this is how the government framed Amnesty in local dialogues), international observers often refer to Amnesty as a spineless attempt to achieve peace at the total expense of justice. So although many locals and many internationals would agree that justice must be served, their beliefs diverge when it comes to the meaning of “punishment” and “justice.”
This is the fundamental problem with the Kwoyelo trial: retributive justice - in this case, a trial that will ultimately sentence the accused to death or imprisonment if found guilty - is not what the victims of this war want. In all likelihood, they would accept the former child soldier Kwoyelo back home so long as he apologized for what he allegedly did, and so long as the victims were adequately compensated for their losses.
The sense here is that retribution will not heal the wounds of the long war. Northern Ugandans want peace at the same time as they want justice. Amnesty need not mean that perpetrators live freely, without accountability. At the same time, justice need not require Kwoyelo to be imprisoned or executed. A more victim-centred approach to justice is what the Ugandan context demands, yet such alternatives are being sacrificed in order to serve justice in the mould of Nuremberg and Tokyo.
The case of Thomas Kwoyelo reminds us that the only way to serve justice is to listen carefully to the voices of the victims. This trial will undermine the process of reconciliation if this man is punished without the victims of his alleged crimes feeling as if justice was served.
If Kwoyelo is executed, those who seek retribution will be satisfied. But when the international community returns to business as usual, the parents, children, siblings, livestock, livelihoods, and education robbed by this war will not return.
In other words, business as usual in Northern Uganda.
PS this was written by sima and sal. we sent this to the newspaper and hope people will learn from it and understand a little more about how difficult issues of justice are in post-conflict situations.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your detailed and clear analysis of a complex issue.
ReplyDeleteHope that this comment does not get you in trouble.
Maman
".....the only way to serve justice is to listen carefully to the voices of the victims. This trial will undermine the process of reconciliation if this man is punished without the victims of his alleged crimes feeling as if justice was served....."
ReplyDeleteI like your analysis, thanks