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RWANDA BUCKS BLIND OBEDIENCE
By Abraham McLaughlin
April 9, 2004 (Christian Monitor) For a decade, genocide
survivors have been reluctant to finger perpetrators; that's slowly
changing.
To understand the significance of this story there's something you
must know about Rwandans: They're famously willing to follow orders
given by authority figures.
Leaders were once - and are sometimes still - thought to be divinely
ordained. When they order, people act. Ten years ago, extremist
officials told Rwanda's Hutus to "do their work" and kill
their neighbors. Up to 500,000 did so. They used machetes and guns
to slaughter nearly 1 million people.
But a decade later, Rwanda's ethic of blind obedience may be fading.
One example: The other day, in this hilltop village, a small but
significant drama unfolded in which the locals rebelled against
local authority. They accused the village's top leader of complicity
in genocide. It was a big risk. He controls access to healthcare,
farming assistance, and other government services.
The accusations are emblematic of an new willingness to question
authority. After so many leaders - from politicians to Roman Catholic
priests - were involved in the genocide, citizens trust them less.
In the past 10 years, there's been an explosion of non-Catholic
churches. There are a growing number of private schools. And residents
have bucked efforts by military officials to appropriate valuable
land.
"People risk quite a lot" by standing up to authorities,
but increasingly they're doing it, says Klaas De Jonge, a longtime
observer of Rwandan society who works for Penal Reform International,
a justice group based in London.
Yet on the Kanombe hilltop, the peasant revolt didn't come easily
or quickly. After all, the leader, Jean-Baptiste Habarurema, is
called "the responsible" and is a powerful man. He's one
of the few in the village who wears a blazer.
In fact, it took a citizen who's considered "crazy" here
- Gisupery Job - to jump-start the rebellion. It began in a session
of gacaca - Rwanda's community court system that aims to deal with
some lower-level alleged genocide perpetrators. Gathered under four
plastic tarps held up by wooden poles, about 100 villagers sat on
simple wooden benches. A panel of judges elected by villagers presided.
They aimed to dispense justice for the 101 people killed here during
the genocide.
When the judges asked citizens for input, Mr. Job spoke up, pointing
to Mr. Habarurema: "He brought a pickup truck full of guns
to our village," he yelled. "He told people to kill. All
of you were here. You know what happened. Why aren't you saying
what you know?"
Villagers tittered uncomfortably at this explosive suggestion. For
one thing, Job is considered a kind of "village idiot"
here. He's been unstable ever since the genocide - when his children
were killed and his wife was maimed. It's only noon, and the smell
of alcohol is on his breath.
But he may be speaking the truth. Soon, a woman in an orange head-dress
stood up to confirm that she's heard the same thing about Habarurema
- although she denies seeing it herself. When Job walked away from
the gathering in disgust, another woman flashed him a surreptitious
thumbs-up.
The women's reluctance to accuse Habarurema outright hints at how
hard it is for the truth - or at least Rwandans' suspicions about
it - to emerge in gacacas.
Gacaca (pronounced ga-CHA-cha) courts are the government's answer
to the fact that some 100,000 people have been charged with genocidal
acts - and that it can't possibly try all of them in formal courts.
It has decided to release 30,000 who've confessed their roles. They
will stand trial in gacaca courts, perhaps making this history's
biggest experiment in community justice.
It aims to promote reconciliation and justice between perpetrators
and survivors. Its success, observers say, depends on how much of
the truth is revealed. But one government-imposed rule may prevent
a big slice of truth from emerging: Discussion is forbidden about
whether the Rwandan Patriotic Front - the onetime rebel group that's
now Rwanda's main political party - was involved in revenge killings
of Hutus during and after the genocide. Some estimate the RPF killed
as many as 200,000 people.
Back in the village, a tall thin woman named Bayisingize Venancy
suddenly rises. "I saw him." she says, pointing to Habarurema.
"He was dressed in a CDR uniform," she says referring
to a radical Hutu-power party. "He brought guns into the village."
Habarurema smiles uncomfortably. He admits he had a uniform. "Yes,
it's green, I agree," he says, "But it's not CDR."
He says he brought three guns into the village. Later he says his
accusers are simply out to settle a grudge. Indeed, there's a great
danger that the gacacas will be manipulated.
Now it's up to the judges to decide. They will make their determination
in several months, during the next phase of the gacaca process.
Afterward, when asked about the risks of accusing Habarurema, Ms.
Venancy is indignant. "I'm not afraid," she says. "I
only worry if I say something I don't know is true. But I know this
is true." Now that gacacas have come, she says, "It's
up to him to worry."
From: http://search.csmonitor.com/search_content/0409/p06s01-woaf.html
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