Unfinished Business:

The Interface between Victims and Perpetrators in South Africa

By Carl S. Stauffer

Paper Abstract:

This paper is about human beings, the protagonists in any drama of human conflict - the victims and the perpetrators and their relationship in post-war societies, particularly in the context of South Africa. Restorative Justice, as a holistic system of justice, is characterised by an accountable bounded vindication and a responsible integrated mercy, which when wisely applied, can promote and support the healing needs of victims and the rehabilitation needs of perpetrators coming out of cycles of violence. The author argues that Restorative Justice as compared to the other dominant justice frameworks, (applied through revenge, retribution or impunity) is the only sensible way forward for the future. A central pillar to the expression of Restorative Justice is the configuration of forums designed and developed for victim-perpetrator interface. In this chapter, some of the specific efforts at practicalising victim-perpetrator mediation or conferencing (in the context of the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission) will be assessed and evaluated. Through the use of short case studies, it will be evident that these various configurations of victim-perpetrator interactions had as their aim to bring back into view the human relationship elements of Restorative Justice. These elements can be summed up as acknowledging wrong (confession and responsible truth telling), restoring equity (repentance and forgiveness) and addressing future intentions (tangible and symbolic restitution and reconciliation). Limitations, reflections vis-à-vis ongoing Restorative Justice work, and challenges and future recommendations, particularly regarding victim-offender interface, will be offered in conclusion.

OUTLINE I. Introduction: In Tandem Between Impunity and Retribution - A Restorative

Third Way? II. Restorative Justice: The Integration of Vindication and Mercy III. Intimate Connection - The Painful Link between Victim and Perpetrator IV. The Survivor-Offender Mediation Network - "Putting a Face on the Past" V. What went wrong? A. Concentration on National and Collective Level B. Perceived Perpetrator Bias, Focus and Priority C. Administrative and Timeframe Constraints VI. Grave Consequences: Some Post-TRC Victim Findings VII. Where do we go from here? - Allowing the Human Spirit to Resurface VIII. Conclusion: The Justice Challenge beckons us forward A. Video Dialogue Projects

B. Taking Restorative Justice Full-Circle Endnotes

I. Introduction: In Tandem Between Impunity and Retribution - A Restorative Third Way?

There is a cancerous growth that continues to resurface in the processes of international peace agreements and truth commissions around the world. This terminal development has been birthed from the womb of political compromise, manipulation and fear - all for the sake of "peace." It has many names - impunity, amnesty and pardon are the most common. It has many faces - 'blanket' amnesty or 'trade-off' amnesty, where the disclosure of truth is the assigned price for freedom. It has many voices. It declares that its existence is in fact the path of 'necessary evil,' unjust as it may feel and seem, that must be embarked on in order to bring peaceful restoration to a society that has suffered under extreme violent conflict. It claims to be the only way to lay to rest the past of gross human rights violations, to deal with the current trauma, and to promote future reconciliation and peace. No matter how this concept is dressed-up the ramifications within a traumatised, post-war society can be fatal to the building and sustenance of reconciliation or even a peaceful co-existence between victims and perpetrators. This is not to say that the adversarial alternative of legal prosecution and execution of perpetrators as represented in many post-war international tribunals is any less carnage-oriented and destructive in the long-term view of peace. Not only are these tribunals expensive and highly time-consuming they are often fraught with legal and bureaucratic 'loop-holes' that thwart justice from going forward. A case in point is the recent release by the War Tribunal for Rwanda, of one of the most highly implicated perpetrators in the Rwandan genocide. This was due to the on-going negligence of certain legal protocol on the part of the prosecution (1). Even in their most effective states of organisation, as in the case of the Germany's Nuremberg Trials, war tribunals can only touch the 'tip of the iceberg' in actually prosecuting and punishing a small number of implicated perpetrators. In fact, both impunity and retribution can breed a culture of revenge that can lead to cycles of violence. Why do I say this? Because neither of these options takes into full account the complex social, psychological and spiritual dimensions of both victimisation and aggression on an individual as well as on a collective level. Restorative Justice, an emergent field of study and discipline, is beginning to make its way forward to centre stage in the international debate as a viable alternative way to deal with the human and structural devastation that follows in the wake of destructive, protracted conflict. II. Restorative Justice: The Integration of Vindication and Mercy In an article entitled "Children of War" TIME magazine (January 22, 1982, 52) records an exchange between a reporter and a child who had lost both parents to the genocide of Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge: Reporter : "Does your spirit tell you to get revenge?" Child : "Yes" (solemnly) Reporter : "So, you will go back to Cambodia one day and fight the Khmer Rouge?" Child : "No, that is not what I mean by revenge. To me revenge means

I must make the most of my life!" (Rosenblatt, 1982)

The concept of Restorative Justice moves us past the "good guys/bad guys" syndrome and pushes us to redefine punishment, justice and healing in the context of human relationships. It goes beyond our legal systems that are geared to "establish blame and administer pain." It's more than what we often term human rights, it's about human dignity. It moves us past victims' rights to also encompass offender responsibilities, obligations and rehabilitation. It refuses to understand forgiveness and reconciliation in a singularly emotional, psychological, spiritual, social or structural vacuum. Instead, it approaches justice with the individual and the collective good in mind, grounded deeply in the notion that when human relationships are violated victims need protection, support and healing from the community, and offenders need to take responsibility, make restitution and pursue rehabilitation with the support of the community. Restorative Justice is not a flimsy, feel-good, warm and fuzzy dream. Rather it is a process that grounds us in the reality of the need to acknowledge the victim's pain and sense of injustice, and it elicits from the offender the need to address future intentions through restitution. Most importantly, Restorative Justice offers a framework that values the human spirit's capacity to give and receive forgiveness, reconciliation and healing. Restorative Justice hinges on the offender experiencing "shame" and the victim being "empowered." There are two kinds of shame according to Dr. Howard Zehr, Criminal Justice expert and author. There is "stigmatising" shame and there is "integrative" shame. The focus of stigmatising shame revolves around punishment, pain, humiliation, isolation and alienation. Our current justice systems are built on these principles of stigmatising the offenders. The focus of integrative shame, however, centres on community, obligation, responsibility, restitution, rehabilitation and rituals or structures of shame termination and reintegration of the perpetrators back into society. Likewise, for the victim there are two kinds of empowerment. There is empowerment through raw "revenge" and there is empowerment through true "justice." The dominant systems of our world tell us that we are empowered through revenge. As intuitive human beings, our spirit and common sense tell us that we are not truly empowered unless we can participate in a genuinely restorative application of justice on both an individual and collective level. Herein lies the context for Restorative Justice, the backdrop for the rest of this chapter's reflections. III. Intimate Connection - The Painful Link between Victim and Perpetrator “If you take a life, then you own it. You responsible for it. You can’t get rid of nobody by killing them. They are still there, and they yours now.” (2) -African American Novelist, Toni Morrison At this point one might legitimately ask, "Why the emphasis on victim-perpetrator relationships?" This emphasis is certainly foreign to our dominant way of thinking. Those who promote unbridled revenge tactics and the most eloquent of advocates within the modern day legal systems tell us that the victim and the offender are enemies, who are completely unwilling or unable to interact in a constructive way. In fact, for either the victim or the offender to desire and/or request to be part of a structured dialogue in order to build relationship is considered strange, unhealthy and unsafe. Slowly we are

beginning to discover that these assumptions are not necessarily true or desirable. Instead of trying to construct inpenetratable and artificial barriers between victim and offender, we are now realising, that in fact, the two actors in the drama of violent conflict are bound together, inseparable through the trauma they both share. In his book entitled “The Art of Forgiveness,” German theologian and author Geiko Muller-Fahenholtz, pointedly underpins the above ideas when he writes, “ Evil acts create chains that lock perpetrators and victims together, usually in unconscious ways, producing a double history of effects which must be taken into account in reflecting on the nature of forgiveness. An act of forgiveness must be understood as a complex process of unlocking painful bondage, of mutual liberation. While the perpetrators must be set free from their guilt, (and its devastating consequences) the victims must be liberated from their hurt (and its destructive implications). ” (3) Muller-Fahrenholz goes on to say that the greatest hurdle in the way of reconciliation is the dread on the part of both victim and offender of the process of dismantling and exposing the above-mentioned traumatic needs. People and societies will go to great extremes to avoid confronting these realities. Unless the victim/survivor is willing to face the immense insecurity of their traumatic hurt, and the perpetrator is willing to renounce their power and disarm themselves in front of the victim – mutual reconciliation and forgiveness cannot occur both on a personal and corporate level. However, Muller-Fahrenholz refuses to give up his hope in the reconciliation process when he states, “ But when forgiving does happen it leads to the profound recognition that the pain of the other is also my pain. There is a mutuality of defenseless openness, which enables each side to recognize in the other a human being in need of help. Forgiving is more than an encounter; it is an exchange of pain… [Forgiveness] also releases a corrective and restoring power. It corrects the distortion, which an evil act establishes between two people or groups – the distortion of stolen power and enforced impotence. At the same time such correction restores the dignity of both sides.” (4) Muller-Fahrenholz grapples with the idea of what it means to "forget" and “remember” in relation to reconciliation and forgiveness. He talks to the often flippant and trivialized use of the phrase, “forgive and forget” as if the two were mutually inclusive. We hear other similar notions frequently such as, “Let bygones be bygones” or “Let sleeping dogs lay.” These are some of the frames used to justify or explain the 'benefits' of impunity. Usually the perpetrators or the oppressors, who have the most to gain from amnesty pardons, propagate these rationalisations. A contrasting backdrop to these types of statements is the Jewish idiom “Forgetting prolongs captivity.” If forgetting brings bondage then does remembering bring freedom? This has been a highly debated subject throughout history. Remembering can be done in different ways. We can remember in order to fuel the bitterness of revenge and retaliation as was used in the “hate” propaganda in Nazi Germany, Bosnia or Burundi and Rwanda. We can remember in order to never forget or repeat the past, as has been the case with Jewish Holocaust survivors. We can also remember in an attempt to redeem and heal. It is the latter that is most useful to the workings of Restorative Justice. Muller-Fahrenholz puts it clearly when he writes, “ [Re-membering is] …bringing together the members and pieces of something that was once complete, a joining together of what has been severed, a making whole of that which is broken, a restoring of the

distorted. Forgiveness is concerned with a certain healing of memories. It cleanses them of their bitterness and aggressive components and focuses them on the innermost likeness of the human quest. The most haunting enemies of a reliable and peaceful future are the unresolved and dismembered legacies of the past.” (5) What Muller-Fahrenholz is beginning to unpack in the above quoted paragraphs is the ideal power of human reconciliation through forgiveness. What we must be concerned with here is the challenge of locating and grounding our motivation and energy in this ideal and yet at the same time practically applying it to the reality of human interaction after the devastation of violent conflict. The concepts and practice which emerge from the field of Restorative Justice provide a pragmatic, experiential framework with which to actualise our hopes and dreams for reconciliation and peace. Chaiwat Satha-Anand, founder and director of the Peace Information Center in Thailand, expresses the transformative nature of Restorative Justice well in this summary. “ Yet when the victim forgives the victimizer, a radical alteration of power relations takes place which frees people from the memory cage of the past and allows a social space to come into being. This social space is both open-ended and future-oriented.” (6) IV. The Survivor-Offender Mediation Network - "Putting a Face on the Past"

"They (the perpetrators) are still alive and can talk to their families and relatives, we talk to graves." (Sylvia Dhlomo, a founding member of the Khulumani Support Group for Victims)

One attempt at grappling with a Restorative Justice approach in South Africa was actualised through the Survivor-Offender Mediation (SOM) Network. This effort was launched in 1995, after a group of NGO's held several "think-tank" workshops to explore and operationalise the internationally applied concept of Victim-Offender Mediation (VOM) in the South African context. The motivation behind these endeavors was to make explicit the need to keep the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission's (TRC's) mandate 'people-centred', (not souly 'legal-centred,') and to serve as a practical link to complement the TRC's express purpose of dealing with the processes of reconciliation. The SOM Network's consortium of NGO's, church groups, and individual practitioners was initially convened by the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation (CSVR) in partnership with Wilgespruit Fellowship Centre (WFC). The SOM Network had as its primary mission / aim to effect transformation through offering a restorative service of mediated interaction between survivors and offenders. The Network also attempted to play a role in the public debate, helping to interpret and translate the emotional and psychological transformation that was occurring in the mind of South Africa as it moved through this historic metamorphosis. As a result of this group's efforts, a conceptual paper was published which was presented to, and formed the basis, for the mediation policy of the Rehabilitation and Reparation's Sub-Committee of the TRC (7). Also, the SOM network trained 16 professionals in victim-offender mediation and offered its service to the TRC.

Taken from a funding document of the SOM Network, the following excerpt gives a general synopsis of the project: "The goals of the Survivor-Offender Mediation Programme are to provide a mediation service which can contribute to reconciliation in South Africa on both an interpersonal and a public level. The programme is a unique practical attempt to bring together survivors and perpetrators of human rights abuses in order to deal with specific interpersonal needs for justice, restitution, rehabilitation and empowerment. At the same time the programme also addresses the broader goals of national reconciliation through the reinforcement of a culture of human rights and trust in a new social order. The programme will provide forums in which victims and offenders can enter a safe dialogue to address the legacy of past abuses. Through carefully facilitated interpersonal intervention, these mediators will attempt to address the need for personal healing, acceptance of responsibility, reparation and reconciliation." (8)

"Who Will Take Care of Me If My Grandmother Dies?" When 14 year-old Tsidiso met the man who killed his parents, September 1997

"I wonder if any of these young men are Tsidiso?" I thought to myself as my eyes scanned the lobby of the South African Broadcasting corporation offices. People hustled and bustled around as business as usual marched on. "Could you please page Mr. Benedict Matou?" I asked the receptionist at the desk. Benedict is part of the journalistic team from the TRC Special Report television programme, who called me last night to ask if I could accompany him to a live, on-camera meeting between Tsidiso and Paul, his parents' assassin. Benedict was concerned about the possible emotional "fall-out' from the meeting and thought it would be wise to have someone with "psychological expertise" present in case of an emergency. "It was nice to be thought of, but the night before?!" I thought to myself. Needless to say, I spent the good part of an hour on the phone gathering information on the case and briefing Benedict around the process of survivor-offender mediation. Aside from the obvious time constraints, there was a fair degree of preparation and sensitisation already in flow when I was called in, to the credit of Benedict. He had walked with this 14 year old survivor for almost a year since the Amnesty Hearings, building a trust relationship, while Tsidiso received counseling, and assisting the young man to tell his story and seek his own healing. Benedict was influential in taking Tsidiso back to visit the house where his parents were killed (Tsidiso's first visit since the incident nine years ago), and he also spent time interviewing Tsidiso's family members. Tsidiso's father was a South African police officer who was suspected of being an ANC informant. In 1988, he and his wife were gunned down in cold blood in their home and five year-old Tsidiso was found the next morning laying on the dead body of his mother. The person responsible for this tragic event was Paul, a 33 year-old captain in the South African Police Force and a colleague of his victim. Tsidiso's grandmother, who found him in the house after the killing, asked him, "Who did this?" and the only answer Tsidiso's young mind could muster was to talk of someone who was dressed in a uniform like his Daddy wore. As could be expected, Benedict was very protective of Tsidiso and wisely asked that I play a behind-the-scene role. Back in the lobby, my eyes focused on a young man wearing his school uniform and sitting with an acquaintance in the lobby. My concentration was broken by the voice of Benedict as he greeted me and referred me to the young man in the school uniform and introduced us as well as his cousin who was accompanying him to the meeting. We sat a few awkward moments as Benedict left us to arrange for transport. I asked Tsidiso how he felt, and if he was still comfortable about the day and the upcoming meeting. He said he was. I felt intuitively assured after meeting Tsidiso and interacting with Benedict, that this survivor-offender meeting was an important choice on the part of this strong young man. Throughout the process, including the decision of a face-to-face meeting, it appeared as though Benedict and Tsidiso's family had empowered Tsidiso to make his own decisions without undue pressure. Benedict also tried to ease the glare of the media intrusion in small ways such as insuring that the camera and lights were completely set up before the meeting, and leaving enough time for all of us to go out to eat before the

meeting. This gave me a little more time to get to know Tsidiso and assess his preparedness for the meeting. After lunch we made our way to the meeting. At the meeting venue I met with Paul and his confidant who impressed on Paul the need to think about how he would feel if he was meeting the person who killed his parents. I then left Paul and rejoined Tsidiso and his cousin who were sitting in the lobby. We sat for few tense moments as Benedict checked the readiness of Paul and the final details. Finally, the go ahead was given and Tsidiso entered the room. Paul stood up and offered his hand in greeting. Tsidiso reciprocated. Benedict assured Tsidiso that this was his meeting. Tsidiso was allowed to call the shots as far as when he wanted breaks from the meeting and what questions he wanted to ask. Tsidiso opened by asking, "why" and "how?" Paul answered with blanket apologies and explanations for why and how the security forces of that day operated. Not satisfied, Tsidiso asked, 'What evidence did you have that my father was an informant?" Clearly a bit flustered, Paul responded, "I can't answer your questions specifically because I haven’t received amnesty yet and anything I say here could be held against me in court. I must contact my attorney before going any further with this meeting." At this point the meeting broke as we waited for the attorney to arrive. Tsidiso, eye moistening with anger and frustration asked to break and wait outside. We checked closely with Tsidiso as to whether or not he wanted to continue under these conditions, and he indicated that he did. Once the attorney arrived, the meeting continued but in a very halting manner. Tsidiso continued, "I am young and grandmother has had to take care of me, what will happen if my grandmother dies?" With a nervous laugh, Paul said, "You can come live with me!" There was a strange silence. Paul suggested Tsidiso contact him and promised to try to help if anything happened to his grandmother. Tsidiso said he could not forgive at this time, and Paul expressed his understanding that forgiveness is not easy. At the end of the conversation, Tsidiso stated that this was an important day as he heard an apology for the first time from the man responsible for his parents' death. As a closure to the meeting, I again explained the process of mediation and solidified a verbal commitment from both Paul and Tsidiso to meet again after there was closure on the amnesty ruling. That meeting will be a full mediation process without media and attorneys involved. Paul emphasised his willingness to answer any question Tsidiso had once his amnesty position is clear. Tsidiso expressed his desire for his father to have a proper police funeral with honors, something never afforded him at the time of his death. Hopefully, Paul will make good on his promise to meet again, and answer Tsidiso's questions in full truth. Possibly, Paul can play a supportive role in ensuring that Tsidiso's dream for a proper funeral for his father can become a reality, and he may even be willing to assist in Tsidiso's further education. This would not only link Paul to Tsidiso's family's past, but also to their future as well. Tsidiso and Paul have embarked on a restorative journey of healing, further justice, and hopefully, closure.

Encouraged by the momentum of this effort, the SOM Network set into motion a Strategic Plan with a longer-term future view in mind that included solidifying funding, establishing a clear referral process with the TRC and expanding the programme into each of the four regional offices of the TRC. Unfortunately, these strategic directions never materialised much to the disappointment of those involved. There would be a varying degree of analysis and diagnostic conclusions that have been generated around why this project did not succeed. However, for this discussion, I will attempt to synthesise these various interpretations in order to keep the focus clear. V. What went wrong? Although this analysis is specific to the SOM Network and the challenges it faced, in many ways it is closely connected to the evaluation of the shortcomings of the overall

TRC effort. Especially relevant to this diagnosis are the perspectives of victims and reflections, through which we see mirrored some of the salient issues encompassed in the Restorative Justice framework. A. Concentration on National and Collective Level In many ways the TRC's mandate was to concentrate on the general, the 'big picture' so to speak of the whole South African society's attempts to come to terms with past atrocities. Through broad strokes and sample 'snap shots' of the traumas experienced by victims and the sordid acts of violence committed by perpetrators, the TRC was hoping to set the stage and lay the foundation for reconciliation to go forward in South Africa. Much debating has already occurred regarding whether or not the TRC has in fact accomplished this end. The key point to this discussion is that the 'fall-out' of this mass approach was that many individuals and their particular needs were never seen and heard, and those that were will soon be forgotten. What is clear is that wounded individuals make for wounded societies, many individuals without meaningful identities cannot build a meaningful and cohesive societal identity together. Michael Ignatieff, author of "A Warrior's Honour", puts forth a clear warning in regards to the notion of “national psyches” when he writes: “We tend to vest our nations with conscience, identities and memories as if they were individuals. It is problematic enough to vest an individual with a single identity: our inner lives are like battlegrounds over which uneasy truces reign; the identity of a nation is additionally fissured by region, ethnicity, class and education.” (9) Although one would like to believe that the general and particular healing processes could and should converge and feed one another in order to strengthen the whole, this is often not the reality. Ignatieff argues that, in the arena of truth, for instance, there is certain ‘truth that can be known only by those on the inside’ (10). Michael Lapsley, priest and facilitator of the Healing the Memory Workshops, in South Africa, argues that ‘memory can be healed, but only by individuals’ (11). Not only are the issues of truth and healing in and of themselves highly personalized, furthermore, when a nation embarks on a truth commission exercise or any other such national healing process, it is for a very limited time, at best a few years. The resulting end may in fact be packaged in the form of a partial closure that is truncated or stunted; one that offers a simplistic formulated proposition for healing and what is required to leave the past behind. Brandon Hamber expounds on these points further: “Survivors and the victims for whom they grieve both inhabit a liminal space, which is both part of society but removed from society; it could be called an experience of the ‘living dead’. This space is characterized by uncertainty and doubt, and is caused, according to Freud, by survivors’ experiences of the uncanny. Survivors’ needs for closure and symbolic reintegration, (i.e. an end to a state of uncertainty and liminal status) may work in different ways to those enshrined within national commissions.” (12)

Grahame Hayes, reflecting on the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission, writes, “Just revealing, is not just healing. It depends on how we reveal, the context of the revealing, and what it is that we are revealing.” (13) Hayes is poignantly putting his point across that the activity of “remembering” in and of itself does not directly correlate to liberation and resolution on the part of those who have suffered grave human violations. It cannot be assumed that the psychological and spiritual needs of victims and survivors are given adequate voice and/or effectively dealt with through a national truth and reconciliation forum. In essence, any collective endeavor to reconstruct the national psyche and healing of a society can only hope to provide a frame for public discourse and public memory. At best it can help to expose the truth about a horrific past in order to set the record straight for the sake of remembering history for the generations to come. However, even this mission is laden with many obstacles as the debate around whose version of truth is being revealed continues to surface. B. Perceived Perpetrator Bias, Focus and Priority

The Bellinga Case In 1991 Mike Bellinga, a former police officer under the Apartheid regime killed his wife and set it up to look like a casualty from a house break-in. Investigators raised suspicions as to Bellinga's guilt, as an abusive family history began to surface, but no proof stood the test of legal processes. Four years later in 1995, when the family of the deceased wife were able to re-open the case, Bellinga was found guilty and given a prison sentence despite his claims of innocence throughout the trial. Now, eight years later Bellinga applied for amnesty through the TRC admitting to killing his wife but claiming that he had political motives and was under political duress because he had allowed his wife to be privy to very important State secrets. According to his claims, at the time of the murder, his wife was threatening to leave him and therefore posed a threat to State security and needed to be eliminated. Reading like a soap opera plot, Bellinga's story hit the media with a splash and his amnesty hearings were followed with great interest. Was this a gender crime, domestic violence gone wrong or was this an actual sample of the twisted and bizarre underworld of political violence under the oppressive former Apartheid government? Many felt it should not even have been considered by the TRC Amnesty Committee.

Bellinga's case was referred to the SOM Network with the most salient concern being Bellinga's children who were living with a stepmother and who had not had contact with the maternal family since 1991. Bellinga expressed his interest in meeting with the surviving family. The deceased's family was understandably more cautious and skeptical about a meeting. They requested that we postpone the plans for a meeting until after the amnesty hearing. Bellinga's amnesty hearing was no different than many other hearings. He was required to make a statement and disclose the full truth but there was no connection to genuine remorse. The proceedings were ethereal, procedurally clouded and smothered with irrelevant legal fanfare. In many ways these hearings served to re-victimise as opposed to empower the surviving family members. The amnesty hearings were a form of survivor-offender interface but without a meaningful human dialogue or interaction. There was little emotional and trauma support for the victim's family, and having finally felt that justice was done in 1995, they now had to live through the stress of that 'justice' being overturned. In the second week of hearings, the deceased's family was tired, bitter and angry and promptly informed the SOM Network that they had no desire to meet with Bellinga anymore. In fact, they could not stand to be in the same place as he as they felt re-traumitised, humiliated and frustrated by his continued 'lies.' The small flickering flame of hope for some kind of closure or resolution to this dreadful situation was being snuffed out.

This brief case study has been included to try to expose the impotence of legal impunity and the processes that accompany it. Despite strong efforts on the part of the TRC to highlight their 'victim-centred' approach, the general feeling was that somehow amnesty was the centrepiece of the TRC. This was due to some very obvious reasons. Firstly, the amnesty clause was the most controversial part of the TRC legislation debate. Secondly, it probably received the most media attention because of the sensation and drama these stories brought to the public. Unfortunately, amnesty hearings are not based in the reality of human social space. They are removed and sterile, which far from resolving the pain of the past, can have the potential to entrench feelings of hatred, rage and hopelessness. Thirdly, the amnesty issue overshadowed most of the other TRC components because it has taken the most time and resources of probably any other part of the TRC. Not only is justice thwarted in the process of amnesty but the time and costs are astronomical, which only serves to further embitter the already suffering victims and survivors. Lastly, very few South African victims or surviving families have received any kind of reparations to date, one year after the Reparations recommendations were handed to the government. This has had an alarming effect on the morale of those who suffered under tremendous strain and trauma during the Apartheid years, and who now wonder if the current government will 'deliver' on its promises. C. Administrative and Timeframe Constraints To the credit of the TRC, it was given a mammoth task to accomplish in a very short period of time. Just to try to complete the legislated requirements of the TRC was a huge challenge within the time period of its life span. The organisational and structural scaffolding for this enterprise were immense. The implications of this for the SOM Network were that as much as the TRC supported what we wanted to accomplish they simply did not have the 'luxury' of putting aside extra hours of time to work on creative initiatives for Restorative Justice and reconciliation. Hence, when push came to shove the TRC was simply too taxed in time, energy and internal issues to be able to develop a comprehensive referral system and release the necessary information to take a case forward. Resistance in making referrals was also felt from the Amnesty Committee members as the SOM process did not 'fit' within the scope of a singularly 'legal' framework. In fact, in may ways it threatened certain critical aspects of the amnesty process. There was the possibility that any information regarding past crimes that was given outside of the amnesty hearing process could be used against a person in the court of law. Thus, perpetrators who had not yet received amnesty were afraid to disclose information in a mediation process. The results of these constraints were threefold. First, the SOM Network did not receive nearly as many cases as had been estimated. Second, the cases it did handle were mostly from media or other trauma / gender support organisations, not the TRC. Third, the TRC did conduct various survivor-offender mediations as per request. Often these were 'on-the-spot' and quickly thrown together, which is less than ideal in terms of the impact on both the victim / survivor and the perpetrator. Without thorough and proper preparation and experienced facilitation these kinds of meetings can do more harm than good. Perpetrators can find a quick release from guilt and the pressure they have carried over

many years. Many times they have rehearsed their apology over and over again. For the victim on the other hand, they may be overwhelmed with the resurgence of deep emotions that they had thought were healed. Because victims have often suppressed their pain, if appropriate time and attention is not given to their needs, they may feel dis-empowered to ask questions and speak with courage regarding their trauma.

A Missed Opportunity

A glaring example of this situation was evidenced on a television programme entitled "Confronting the Hitman" aired on NNTV on 24 October 1995. In this documentary a meeting was arranged between Dirk Coetzee and the brother of one of his victims, Griffith Mxenge. As a viewer, I became more and more uncomfortable as the journalist covering the meeting went to interview both Dirk and the surviving brother the night before the meeting. Dirk was calm, cool and collected. Mxenge on the other hand was agitated, restless and expressing a considerable amount of anger and frustration. The Mxenge family was one of three surviving families that opposed the process of amnesty and fought to have it legally overturned in their cases. On the day of the meeting, a motel room was the choice of venue and to my considerable surprise there was no mediator or facilitator invited to be part of this crucial meeting. The only intermediary in the room was the camera. Needless to say, the meeting did not last longer than a few minutes before Mxenge said he had to stop as he could no longer trust himself to control his anger and the rage and contempt he felt against Coetzee. I can only surmise how far that critical face-to-face interaction and possible healing or reconciliation could have gone had the appropriate preparation and mediation resources been utilised. Circumstances may have been very different had there been someone who could play the essential role of guiding, interpreting and channeling the intensity of emotion and the sensitive nature of the information being processed in that meeting.

In this section, I have deliberately focused on broad categories of evaluation in order to capture as much information as possible in this limited discussion. I also specifically assessed only those areas that I felt impacted on the interchange between the TRC and SOM Network and its functioning. Suffice it to say there were many other factors that affected the smooth and efficient movement of the TRC such as political agendas, media and international pressure and attention, and internal workings around leadership and race, to name a few. In the end, one must be realistic in saying that no matter which way or form one chooses to approach the issues of truth telling, reconciliation and Restorative Justice in any post war society, it is an uneven and often messy work. VI. Grave Consequences: Some Post-TRC Victim Findings

"For the victims, to neglect reparations is to deny justice."

(Dr. Wendy Orr, Former TRC Commissioner and Deputy Chairperson of Reparations & Rehabilitation Sub-Committee)

South Africa sits on a time bomb just waiting to explode if it does not swiftly and meaningfully begin to address the needs of those victims who suffered severe human rights violations under the past government. Thandi Shezi, a spokesperson for the Khulumani Victim's Support Group, stated these concerns clearly in a public meeting on

reparations hosted by the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation on 4 November 1999. She sited four general areas of serious frustration on the part of the victims of Apartheid: • Amnesty - Why is it taking so much time? What are the costs for these continued hearings? Why is

there so much attention given to the perpetrators? What are the real priorities of the TRC? • Exhumation - Why have people had to suffer the double trauma of burying the wrong bodies, not their

loved ones, who had been exhumed but not properly tested by the TRC? Some victims have had their loved ones bodies returned but still do not have sufficient means to give them a proper burial. Why has the TRC been unable to give more than R 2,000 in emergency restitution?

• Investigations - Victims came forward not only for compensation, but also for truth. Why has there been such a negligent follow-through in many of the investigations? Many victims are highly disappointed.

• Reparations Money - Why have only "urgent reparations" been received by only about 3-4,000 persons and only one payment?

Shezi continued by raising questions around why the current government has refused to allocate resources to the 5 billion rand reparations request of the TRC while at the same time they are willing to make a 30 billion rand arms deal with Sweden. She spoke of sit-ins, marches and memorandums that have been consistently ignored by the Justice Department. Where is the justice in all this? The TRC often spoke of a critical 'trade-off' between uncovering the truth and granting amnesty thereby regrettably circumventing justice. As was stated earlier this trade-off is almost always couched as an 'unfortunate evil' springing from a 'political compromise.' In fact, and rightly so, the international world heralded this trade-off as great ground gained in the Truth Commission debate. However, post TRC findings are indicating that this trade has not been satisfactory for the majority of victims. That in fact this trade-off has led to an emotional and psychological dissonance. In a paper entitled, "Telling it like it is…" the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation frames this debate as follows: " It is difficult to assess the truth for justice trade in a context where, for the majority, truth about their case was not forthcoming. Yet even for the few victims in this sample who got the truth, truth was not always enough. They still wanted the perpetrators to be punished in some way. For them, truth and possible reconciliation did not equate with justice. The question arises: did telling one's story and hearing the truth compound the psychic burden of revenge, or did the truth alleviate some of the anger? Can truth alone lead to reconciliation on an individual level? We speculate, that those we interviewed, would say no. The right to truth and the right to exercise justice through institutional means are intrinsically linked; one does not negate the other. Survivors can, and most often do, hold the simultaneous view that they want truth and justice through the courts…As Donald Shriver notes, "Forgiveness thrives in the tension between justice-as-punishment and justice-as-restoration" (Shriver, 1995:32). To this end, vengeance (and demands for justice or punishment) and forgiveness are two sides of the same coin; they both spring from an initial feeling of legitimate anger." (14) Unless there is some attempt to harmonise this emotive and psychological dissonance, conflict will simmer under the surface of a social fabric and eventually, left unchecked, will bubble and boil-over in other forms of violence and /or social conflict. This process of social unrest is often a result of what is termed displaced aggression. Displaced aggression can come in many forms, however, in its extremes it can result in either socio-

psychological apathy exhibited in suppressed social conflict or it can express itself loudly and clearly through an articulation of and acting-out of "revenge fantasies." Judith Herman in her seminal work, “Trauma and Recovery,” paints the picture of the trauma victim’s world being completely turned upside down. Herman maintains that many victims never recover because they get caught in the trap of what she terms “revenge fantasies.” These fantasies are indulged in to bring about a feeling of empowerment but are for the most part highly unrealistic. A very small percentage of victims ever act on their fantasies of revenge. Some victims may nurture these fantasies but have no intention of ever carrying them out. Others imagine that they will receive their “just desserts” or satisfaction through failed systems of justice such as is revealed in the frequently uttered phrase, “I’ll get my day in court!" Whatever the case may be, this author is of the conviction that Restorative Justice can provide a meaningful container to release one from the bondage of “revenge fantasies” which are generally quite violent in nature. How does it do this? Herman outlines important principles of Restorative Justice in dealing with victims and survivors. She points out that almost all the things that were considered a ‘normal everyday part of life’ and that are taken for granted, are now shattered when one experiences victimisation. Herman maintains that the core of victimization has to do with a state of ‘disconnectedness’ and ‘disempowerment,’ both of which are closely linked and bound to human relationships and community. To paraphrase Herman, the victim of trauma needs the following in order to recover: ♦ To be able to speak and be heard in a “safe-space.” ♦ To know that what happened to them was wrong and that their emotions are legitimate. ♦ To experience restitution / reparations both symbolically and in real material terms. ♦ To experience rituals of mourning/lament that “give voice to anguish” ♦ To have the satisfaction that the perpetrator has admitted to wrong. ♦ To be given a chance to tell their TRUTH (storytelling). ♦ To have “a place of testimony where society bears witness” ♦ To receive answers to their questions: Why did this happen to me? Why did God allow this to happen?

What did I do to make this happen? What didn’t I do to keep this from happening?

What would I do differently now? What will I do if this happens again? ♦ To be empowered – as power has been taken away from them by force. (15) Any post-violent reconstruction process that hopes to ensure long-term peace and healing must be committed to a Restorative Justice system that takes heed of these underlying principle needs of victims. Serious concern is being expressed here regarding the destructive 'twin peaks' of cognitive dissonance and displaced aggression. If left unaccounted for these could move a society of victims into the vicious cycle of becoming perpetrators. This is unfortunately the cyclical web of revolutionary violence we see repeated over and over again throughout the history of human civilisations.

VII. Where do we go from here? - Allowing the Human Spirit to Resurface

Sierra Leone - Another Way?

Having just returned from a trip to West Africa working with Sierra Leone refugees in conflict resolution training, I am again stunned by the paralysing deadlock or impasse created by blanket impunity. As part of the Lome´ peace agreement signed in July 1999, the Sierra Leone people have committed themselves to power-sharing with the rebel leadership, to blanket amnesty for all rebels returning to their homes and in kind the rebels have agreed to disarm. This all sounds fair enough in light of the continued violence that this country has suffered under since 1991. This violence, however, has been the most traumatic on the lives of the civilian population. It is estimated that between 7-10,000 child soldiers some as young as seven, nine and eleven years old were used to carry out severe acts of violence over the duration of this civil war. These children, torn from their families and homes, have been bribed with cocaine and forced to perpetrate brutal acts of violence on civilians. Up to 10,000 civilians have experienced amputations / loss of limbs as a result of the butchery of this protracted conflict. The traumitised civlian population has now been burdened with the deeply painful task of re-integrating these young rebel fighters into their lives and communities. To add insult upon injury for the victims, the government has agreed to pay the rebel fighters to disarm. These surviving civilians are told to reconcile and forgive for the sake of "peace." When talking about this dilemma, people shake their heads in frustrated pain, anger and bitterness, and some in suspended disbelief or subsuming apathy. Many wonder how violence and revenge will ever be contained.

In light of the desperateness of such situations, one often feels the seeming uselessness of trying to train people in conflict resolution. Such contexts tend to surface feelings of powerlessness to effect change as these sorts of compromising political agreements are forced down on people from above. However, during my time with these refugees I became convinced that regardless of the legal and political impunity imposed on them, there were rays of hope. If the civilian population, the people 'on-the-ground' could recognise the merit of and be empowered in their own social and cultural practices, (in dealing with these violent disruptions that had broken their communal harmony) then they could become a formidable force for Restorative Justice. What would this Restorative Justice practice look like? A framework is developing globally for Restorative Justice practice that borrows from various indigenous cultures around the world who are now reviving ancient social justice practices and customary law. These nascent expressions are pointing towards a focus on the holistic capacity of individual/communal restoration following violence. They insist on integrating the spiritual, physical, emotional and mental needs of the victims, offenders and the community/village at large. Secondly, they advise that perpetrators be held geographically accountable to their community of origin. This would mean that the offender would not be removed from the context but would be forced to face daily the consequences of his/her actions and adapt and learn appropriate behavioral and human interaction for the future. Lastly, this framework would be relevant, respected and intertwined with the spiritual, social and cultural traditions of the society as a whole. In substance, a perpetrator would not simply return to his/her home without being fully noticed and recognised. They would need an appropriate access point, one with criteria

that is set by the community or village at large. Respected elders or recognised community or religious leaders would function as a screening mechanism and highly structured support system for the perpetrators from the start to the end of this process. Each perpetrator would be given the responsibility of devising his or her own plan of restitution, rehabilitation and integration back into society. This plan would only be accepted if the support networks and the collective at large found it agreeable. After this a communal plan would be developed. This plan would take into account the feelings, ideas and inputs surrounding integration from the family of the perpetrator, the victims and their families plus the general support networks surrounding all these groups. It is at this point that face-to-face victim-offender mediation may occur as well as many other creative large group forums and facilitation. A case in point is the Native Peoples of Canada who use what they call 'talking circles', 'sentencing circles' and 'healing circles' in their restorative work. (16) All the while, the perpetrators attitude and actions are being monitored to see if they are truly remorseful and compliant. An intensive follow-up plan is activated at this time. If this restorative plan is satisfactorily completed an intentional re-integration ritual or ceremony is designed and embarked on both for the perpetrator and the community at large. These symbolic rituals, serve as rites of passage which close the chapter of shame and guilt experienced by the offender and to allow for healing, forgiveness and reconciliation to occur, thereby restoring harmony to the society at large. Nothing of what is described above has to be dependent on or enforced by the political and legal processes and structures of the day. However, this sort of restorative journey does require a cohesive and formulated community. This type of community is often completely broken down or non-existent in the urbanised settings of many parts of the globe, especially those locations which have experienced protracted violence. There is growing evidence, however, that these same sort of community structures can be replicated in various innovative ways even within the alienation and isolation of modern urban collectives. African Customary Law rituals and traditions are rich in practices of individual and collective empowerment. When one focuses on the practical out-workings of African Customary Law and Restorative Justice one can draw a number of comparisons. In summary, these commonalties are as follows: Both have the overarching aim of reconciliation and restoring peace / harmony in the community. Both share the function and goal of maintaining human dignity. Both promote a normative system, which stresses an individual or collectives’ duties not just rights. Both consider acts of violence as human wrongs committed against a person or community. Both employ procedures that are simple and informal, yet powerful to bring about transformation. Both encourage community participation and ownership of the process, therefore those who have

perpetrated violence are more likely to accept responsibility, apologize and offer reparation for their offence. (17)

Many would say that the above discussion is idealistic, a utopian dream. These same people would declare that voices and actions of force and violence are 'unfortunately' the only means affecting 'real' change in today’s context. I would like to believe that life is only meaningful when we strive to live for ideals. To be sure, we may never attain the

ideal in full. But clearly, if one were to act on the practices mentioned above (even just in part) and apply them in today’s world, one would absorb a Restorative Justice mindset which would in turn precipitate a fundamental transformation of values and justice structures. The benefits of adopting and embarking on a structured framework of Restorative Justice in a post-war society are many-fold and very far-reaching. These could be summarised as follows:

The Benefits of Genuine Restorative Justice practice include:

The promotion of personal spiritual transformation, which is critical to peaceful co-existence and meaningful human relationships.

The anchoring and securing of a healthy identity for both the individuals and societies involved. (An identity that is not based on an "enemy" or a "us / them" worldview.)

The re-ordering and healing of scars for those who have experienced severe trauma. Surfacing and re-establishing indigenous practices that help to maintain stable and harmonious

societies. Re-building and restoring a healthy trust and mutual risk-taking in human relationships. Encouraging acts of nonviolence, reconciliation and hope. Instilling a balanced, responsible and collaborative concept of justice in the next generation.

VIII. Conclusion: The Justice Challenge beckons us forward

"South Africa's transition is no soap opera or terrorist thriller. It is the story of a fractured country embarking on a remarkable self-healing process; a journey to nationhood."

(Allistar Sparks, South African Journalist)

In South Africa, there are a number of promising Restorative Justice initiatives that deserve being highlighted here. A. Video Dialogue Projects "In 1992 the Cape Town community of Crossroads was engaged in a bitter war. The regional peace committee, formed under the National Peace Accord was at a loss to bring the parties together in a forum to discuss the violence. The Media Peace Centre, a Cape Town based NGO, used the filming of a video as a way to get parties to state their positions and reasons for fighting. This material was shared across the 'enemy' lines and a consensus was built that the film product would be useful if viewed by the adversaries together. This step introduced the notion of "video dialogue" - the making of a video product as a stimulus to bring parties together to talk, first to the camera and secondly to each other in a facilitated process." (18) The relative success of the Crossroads experiment gave rise to the same idea in Kathorus, another of the most violent areas in South Africa. The resulting project was called "Simunye (we are one) Dialogues" which was launched in 1997 by Wilgespruit Fellowship Centre, the Media Peace Centre and Simunye, a local community based organization serving the ex-combatants of the East Rand. Video cameras were given to two former commanders of the militarized youth wings from opposing political groups. These two commanders were to tell or "diarize" their own and their community's story

through the use of video. After this, a process of categorizing, editing and putting together of one story, from two, was embarked upon. This was a highly difficult and taxing process as each of these young commanders had to play down their perceived and deeply cherished prejudices, myths and stereotypes in order to produce a new joint reality that was acceptable to all. The product of this effort was a one-and-one-half-hour video that openly and candidly outlines the past and current conflicts, analyzing the conflicts, and soliciting solutions from all stakeholders. This video was successfully screened in April of 1997 to a large number of community leadership. Following this, various public viewings were conducted for different segments of the community, after which participants were divided into commissions and a facilitated dialogue was engaged in. This follow-on process used community resources - facilitators, video machines, church and school halls and caterers - to interact with groups who otherwise would not have talked to each other. The overarching aim of the project was to promote a broad-based unity, restore a sense of "community" and assist the Kathorus community to recognize its divisions. Philip Visser, Project Co-ordinator, explained the mission in this manner: "Through this process of visually recording the past, interlocking spheres of dialogue are constructed - slowly building understanding, restoring humanity and initiating a process of reconciliation towards peace, respect, tolerance and a joint future." (19) B. Taking Restorative Justice Full-Circle

The Brian Mitchell Story

On Sunday, April 27, 1997 in front of about 500 community members, former policeman Brian Mitchell committed himself to rebuilding the community at Trust Feed in KwaZulu Natal where he was involved in the massacre of 11 people in 1987. Mitchell, who was station commander at a nearby police station at the time, was sentenced to 30 years in jail for his role in the attack. He was released from prison in December of 1996 after receiving amnesty from the TRC. While in prison Brian had a spiritual conversion and expressed his sorrow publicly to the families of his victims at his amnesty hearing. He then went on to express a willingness to meet with the community to make things right. Also, in his amnesty application Mitchell had expressed the wish to reunite the Trust Feed community and assist in its upliftment. The TRC arranged this momentous April 27th meeting. The meeting procedure was simple. It started with prayer and singing. Then the community was invited to tell their stories and ask questions of Mitchell. In return Brian was given an opportunity to make a statement and respond to the queries of the community. Community reactions were varied from anger and grief to amazement that Mitchell even had the courage and bravery to come and face the community and how rare it was to have a former perpetrator actually ask for forgiveness. Although, Mitchell was unemployed at the time, he committed himself to work with government, his Church and other community agencies on behalf of the community and its development. In the words of two observers:

"The meeting ended after four hours. An old man with a cane had been listening intently from the front row. He walked forward with halting steps, took the microphone and praised the TRC for setting up this meeting. He also thanked Brian Mitchell for his bravery in coming to the community. He said he felt relieved that the process of reconciliation had begun. People then peacefully dispersed. It seemed that a start had been made. It seems that when this kind of face-to-face meeting occurs, when confession is made, when people acknowledge the humanity of one another, when the offer of restitution is made and carried

out, then reconciliation can begin. Our hope and prayer is that it might happen in many more communities and in the hearts of individuals as well (20). But this was not the last time the Trust Feeds community ever saw Brian Mitchell again. In the PACSA (Pietermaritzburg Agency for Christian Social Awareness) Easter 1999 Newsletter a short article was printed under the title "Reconciliation in Action." Above a picture of Brian Mitchell and a community woman shaking hands the caption read, "Reconciliation Day - 16 December 1998 - saw a service of reconciliation in commemoration of the Trust Feed massacre…The top left photo shows Mrs. Makhoba Idah telling Mr. Brian Mitchell: "I forgive you, Brian…" Two years later still sees Brian involved in helping to rebuild the Trust Feeds community.

These are examples of hope, Restorative Justice in action. The challenge lies before all of us - governments, civil society at large, churches and secular as well as religious communities in South Africa and around the world. Will we continue to passively watch our societies being fragmented by political and social violence, which manipulates us into accepting impunity or revenge? Or will we work for a third and better way - a restorative way that calls forth the best in human beings and the Divine, in partnership, for true justice, forgiveness and reconciliation? As we grapple with these and many other questions, let us remember that Restorative Justice is in fact an invitation for us to create a sacred space in which to honour and restore a violence-fractured humanity. Restorative Justice is fragile. It hinges on people taking determined steps to relentlessly pursue their healing despite the pain it may bring. It challenges us to growth, to imagine beyond the current status quo and to take the creative risk of feeling and acting in a different, yet deeply courageous way. It beckons us forward.

Endnotes: (1) Report from the Human Rights Watch Today, New York, November 8, 1999. (2) Muller-Fahrenholz, Geiko, “The Art of Forgiveness,” (a quote from African-

American novelist, Toni Morrison in the novel entitled, “ Song of Solomon,” WCC Publications, Geneva, Switzerland, 1996, p. 24.

(3) Muller-Fahrenholz, pp. 25 (4) Muller-Fahrenholz, pp. 26 and 28. (5) Muller-Fahrenholz, pp. 37-39. (6) Zimmerman Herr, Judy and Herr, Robert, editors, “Transforming Violence,”

Chapter 5, ‘The Politics of Forgiveness,’ by Chaiwat Satha-Anand, Herald Press, Scottdale, Pennsylvania, USA and Waterloo, Ontario, Canada, 1998, p.75.

(7) "Putting a Face on the Past", by Carl Stauffer & Brandon Hamber, a paper published by the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, South Africa, 1996.

(8) Survivor-Offender Mediation Network, funding proposal, February, 1996. (9) Ignatieff, Michael, “The Warrior’s Honour: Ethnic War and the Modern

Conscience,” VIKING, Published by the Penguin Group,1998, p.169. (10) Ignatieff, p. 175. (11) “Healing the Memory: Cutting the cord between victim and perpetrator,”

Interview with Father Michael Lapsley by Hannes Siebert, Track Two, Volume 6, No’s 3 & 4, December, 1997, p.46.

(12) “Symbolic Closure Through Memory, Reparation and Revenge in Post-conflict Societies,” by Brandon Hamber, paper presented at the Traumatic Stress in South Africa Conference hosted by the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation in association with the African Society for Traumatic Stress Studies at the Parktonian Hotel, Johannesburg, South Africa, 27-29 January, 1999, p. 3.

(13) “We suffer Our Memories: Thinking about our past, healing and reconciliation,” by Grahame Hayes, American Imago, Volume 55, Number 1, Spring 1998, p. 43.

(14) "Telling it like it is…Survivors' Perceptions of the Truth & Reconciliation Commission", a paper published by the Centre for the Study of Violence & Reconciliation, South Africa, 1999.

(15) Herman, Judith, M.D., “Trauma and Recovery,” Basic Books, A Division of Harper Collins Publishers, 1992.

(16) Recommended reading on this subject would be author Rupert Ross in his books, "Dancing with a Ghost" or "Returning to the Teachings - Exploring Aboriginal Justice", Published by Penguin Books, 1996. Also Judge Barry Stuart and his manual entitled, "Building Community Justice Partnerships: Community Peacemaking Circles", Department of Justice, Canada, 1997.

(17) Adapted from articles, “Conflict Resolution in African Customary Law,” by Sam Rugege and “Human Rights and African Customary Law,” by T.W. Bennet, Track Two, A publication of the Centre for Conflict Resolution, Cape Town, South Africa, 1995.

(18) Proposal to the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC): Participation in Kathorus Media Dialogue Process, Introduction, 1998, p.2.

(19) "The Media As Conflict Intervener: Using Video Dialogue in Thokoza", by Philip Visser, A Track Two Newsletter Publication, December 1998.

(20) "A Journey Towards Reconciliation", by Karl and Evelyn Bartsch, Southern Africa Regional Newsletter, a publication of Mennonite Central Committee, October, 1997, Number 43.