WHEN STATES SAY THEY ARE SORRY
By Dominique Moisi
21.10.2011 / 09:00 CET
Repentance is not a misplaced and excessive form of sensitivity.
National repentance is in the news again, as it has been with
remarkable frequency in recent years. In 2008, Australia’s then prime
minister, Kevin Rudd, apologised to his country’s Aborigines, while
Queen Elizabeth II offered a moving gesture of contrition in Ireland
a few months ago. And now, French President Nicolas Sarkozy, on a
recent visit to the Caucasus, reiterated his advice to the Turks to
“repent” for the massacres [read: genocide] of Armenians committed
by the decaying Ottoman regime in 1915.
Of course, Sarkozy would be surprised to be told that the same logic
should lead to a declaration of repentance by the French state to
Algeria, not to mention to the Algerian soldiers who fought under the
French banner, the so-called ‘Harkis’, many of whom were abandoned
to a terrible fate when France left the country in a hurry. As for
those who managed to survive and cross the Mediterranean, France
dumped them in segregated, under-served ghettos.
Misplaced and excessive
For many political leaders and analysts, repentance is a misplaced and
excessive form of sensitivity. History is tough, they say. Besides,
where does one begin apologising – or, rather, end? Should one
apologise for the Crusades, for the destruction of German cities by
the armies of King Louis XIV in the 17th century, not to mention the
armies of Napoleon? Would the result not simply be to turn history
into a perpetual cycle of contrition?
Yet, in a globalised age, which demands transparency and posits
interdependence, repentance can be considered an instrument of
good governance. A country that has lifted the carpet of myth and
indifference under which the negative aspects of its past were swept
is better able to manage itself and accommodate others.
Japan has never learned to interact with its Asian neighbours the
way that Germany after the Second World War learned to co-operate
with its future European partners, partly because its apologies have
appeared formalistic and half-hearted, when they have been made at
all. The European Union exists (whatever its current difficulties)
because Germany asked for forgiveness. And Germany today is able
to distance itself – though clearly at the margin – from Israel’s
current government because Germans fully confronted their past in
ways that many of their neighbours have not.
To ask for forgiveness enables one to speak to ‘the Other’ without
ambiguity, with the freedom of speech needed to express truth. Indeed,
former French president Jacques Chirac won a place in French history
by proclaiming France’s responsibility for the crimes committed by the
collaborationist Vichy government against its Jewish citizens during
the Nazi occupation. The fiction, popularised by General Charles de
Gaulle and pursued by Francois Mitterrand, that “Vichy was not France”
had finally been interred.
Who will be the French president courageous enough to apologise to
Algeria and the Harkis? Of course, French crimes during Algeria’s
war of independence resemble those of Nazi Germany in neither scale
nor motivation. It can be argued that during the colonial era, France
willed the happiness of Algerians, not only the greatness of France.
But it was the French who defined ‘happiness’, without consultation
with the Algerians, much less their consent.
Today, as France engages the progressive forces of the ‘Arab Spring’
– politically, if not militarily, as in Libya – can it continue
to maintain a hypocritical stance towards Algeria, paying a high
price in credibility for continuing its silence about the past? In
terms of forgiveness, it is the strongest party that must apologise
first. And democracy is an essential component of that strength, for
it constitutes the most favourable ground for a responsible pedagogy
of historical honesty.
Of course, one should not entertain too many illusions. The current
Algerian government is quite comfortable denouncing France, and might
continue to do so regardless of anything that the former colonial
power does or says.
But that should not serve as an alibi for doing nothing. In July
2012, France and Algeria will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the
birth of the Algerian Republic. Coming immediately after the upcoming
French presidential election, the event offers an ideal opportunity
for Sarkozy or his successor to engage in a symbolic act of repentance.
Such a gesture would strengthen France both externally and in
terms of the sentiments of its citizens of Algerian descent, whose
difficulty in reconciling their dual identity has led some to turn
to fundamentalist Islam.
Repentance is not a sign of weakness. On the contrary, it is
a demonstration of tranquil and conscientious strength – and a
precondition of good and realistic governance.
Dominique Moïsi is the author of “The geopolitics of emotion”. ©
Project Syndicate, 2011.
From: Baghdasarian