Where is our notion of moral law?
In 1983, the contrasts between South Africa
and Sri Lanka were stark. In South Africa, a highly immoral system
discriminated against blacks and whites without compunction and
without shame. In contrast, Sri Lankans laid claim to the rule of
law. And, contrary to what the easily cynical might retort, this
is not an abstract notion. The rule of law implies necessarily the
legitimacy of laws and accountability of the State, having as its
core, the idea of justice as an underlying moral basis for all laws.
Law must then necessarily protect basic human rights and act as
a constraining and not extending fetter on legislative, executive
and judicial powers.
Yet, in July
1983, we had the heart of this country blackened by a week of the
most barbarous acts ever visited upon a minority people on this
soil, the cumulative consequences of which we are still struggling
to escape. And while the purpose of this column is not to liken
the happenings in Sri Lanka to the horrors that were systematically
perpetrated for decades upon black people in South Africa, there
is a different point to be made.
This is simply
that South Africa has managed, in the time since those even worse
barbarities ceased, to embark upon the process of confronting her
demons and coming to terms with the past. We, on the other hand,
have not had the courage or the like wisdom even though we functioned
in an ostensible democracy as opposed to apartheid and had, by far,
the greater contextual history to recollect our spirit.
Twenty years
on therefore, little has changed even though peace is apparently
upon us and incurably optimistic editorialists wax eloquent about
there being no minority riots since that shameful period. But, the
central issue here is immeasurably greater than the absence of riots
and puts into issue our own hearts, our consciences and our resolve
to take the future of our country into our own hands while making
amends for the past.
This, South
Africa has done, helped undoubtedly by the glory that is Nelson
Mandela but also bolstered by a collective reconciliation effort
among her people that has only pale replications in this country.
We, on the other hand, have left - and continue to leave- it all
to our politicians, with inevitably disastrous consequences. In
the alternative, we have spurious attempts at national reconciliation
at the core of which there is either personal vainglory coupled
with lavish use of money, (whether one's own or others), or political
motivation.
A cameo portrait
of our reconciliation efforts proves this point. For good example,
we can look at the Presidential Truth Commission on the ethnic riots,
the report of which was released recently. To the uninitiated or
to those who are only superficially concerned with fundamental questions
of justice, the Commission and its report may pass without note.
But a deeper analysis reveals particular flaws in the process that
are, in fact, symptomatic of the bigger malaise afflicting this
country.
In the first
instance and instantly true to the history of Presidential Commissions
in this country, the Commission was not created through a collective
or multi partisan process. Instead, we had a presidential appointment
of three individuals who were given the herculean - and 'single'
handed - task of inquiring into and reporting on ethnic violence
during a particular period.
Its naming
as the Truth Commission drew emotional parallels with the South
African Truth Commission. The South African Truth and Reconciliation
Commission (TRC) was however, quite different from its Sri Lankan
namesake, both in substance and in form. Firstly, it was created
following an extensive process of discussion and consultation by
all political parties in South Africa in the post apartheid period.
Set up by Act of Parliament, all its Commissioners were highly reputed
persons whose appointments were by political consensus. Appropriately,
it had a detailed composition with three committees on Human Rights
Violations, on Amnesty and on Reparation and Rehabilitation.
Each had distinct
tasks. The Committee on Human Rights Violations collected the stories
of victims while the Committee of Amnesty heard evidence on political
crimes committed during this period and considered whether amnesty
could be granted on a full confession by the perpetrator.
Amnesty meant
that they would be pardoned for the crime that they had committed
and if they were on trial, the trial would be stopped. The Committee
on Reparation and Rehabilitation investigated ways to help people
who had suffered. Besides this, it considered the manner in which
a culture of human rights could be built in the police force, the
prisons and other government institutions. In addition, the TRC
had an independent investigation unit, made up of lawyers, members
of the police force and international experts, who were given powers
to question persons and to search and seize documents.
Before and
during its sittings, South Africans were informed through public
meetings, posters, leaflets and the media, of the purpose of the
TRC which was to put together a complete picture of all the serious
human rights violations that took place in the country between March
1960 and December 1993. In retrospect therefore, while the South
African process had its isolated detractors, it continues to be
held out as a signal example of the manner in which a country could
deal with its shame.
One may accordingly
be forgiven for hesitating to draw analogies between this process
and the Sri Lankan Truth Commission, given the almost total lack
of holistic purpose by which it was created, which unfortunately
indeed, impacted on the seriousness with which it was looked at
subsequently.
Now, to add
insult to injury, it is almost certain that the report of this Commission,
like its predecessors, (most famously, the many Disappearances Commissions),
will have its moment of glory during a time when it is fashionable
to remember July 1983 but will pass into oblivion thereafter.
So here we
have the differences between South Africa and Sri Lanka exemplified.
In one, we have an immoral system replaced by full-blooded efforts
at justice and reconciliation. In the other, we have empty adherence
to law replaced by an even emptier façade of 'commission
reports' which are at their best, weak attempts at reparation and
at their worst, sadly political exercises. One can take one's pick.
Shame on a
political regime that allows these things to happen. Shame on an
inteellectual and activist coimmunity that achiesces in these happenings
when
But the tragedy is that these happenings continue to take place,
that sane people acquiesce in these things and that. |