As difficult as it is for me to reconcile this with the painful memories of individuals, groups, and entire nations, I believe that the preservation of the democratic system is most important in these fragile transitions to democracy. Obviously, with the examples we’ve seen in class, whether it’s Pinochet’s lifetime appointment to the Senate or survivors seeing their torturers on the street, these are personal, emotional, and painful individual experiences that no person should ever have to endure. People might make the argument that if the country has moved into a democracy and the majority of citizens feel that these torturers and murderers should be prosecuted, then the will of the people should reign. However, the issue here is that most of these states are in a quasi-democratic period where democracy is extremely fragile, and the threat of military intervention still looms over the nation. In these cases, any legal action taken against the former regime could result in the collapse of the current system and the reinstatement of the old.
As a result of this threat, I find the best course of action to be encapsulated in the quotation, “Neither amnesia nor vengeance—justice!” In this case, as we discussed in class, justice is never forgetting; justice is truth. Truth about the horrors of the old regime, truth about the state-sponsored violence that was once accepted, truth about every individual involved in these heinous crimes, truth like in Brasil: Nunca Mais. Survivors can find solace in having the world know their stories and they can be hopeful that this remembrance will ensure that it truly does not ever happen again. This is by no means the best solution for survivors, but if democracy is the second-best solution, then, for better or for worse, sometimes we have to forego the moral in favor of the practical to ensure the health and prosperity of democracy.
It’s important to understand the power dynamics within these democratically fragile states. Understandably, not everyone can be prosecuted and convicted for the crimes committed during such large-scale dictatorships like in Argentina and Chile, however, keeping these tyrants in power should not be a solution at all–even if it is just a second best solution. Pinochet’s lifetime appointment to the senate is drastically different than a survivor seeing one’s torture on the street. While both hold extreme pain for those who were subjected to torture, repression and death, both of these people hold drastically different spheres in society, with Pinochet still residing in such a high position in the government. This contentious choice to keep him in the Senate set off a wide range of protests and further polarized the already unstable democracy. By having him in power, the threat of another dictatorship becomes more possible.
I certainly agree that the feeble nature of democracy in the cases we’ve studied has prevented the triumph of instating a good future over an evil past. Also, I’m intrigued by your argument that truth is the best solution (granted, out of a poor assortment of options). The documentation of torture in Brasil: Nunca Mais certainly represents a popular effort, and thus the power of the people by spreading a state-suppressed history. Delegating remembrance of the past as a task for the people certainly helps manage the problem of order within the government. However, I suppose I simply have a hard time drawing the distinction between choosing the morality option and pursuing the truth. Acknowledgement and commitment to remembering the truth depends on a foundation of morality, a core of acceptance, as such truths are indeed painful to recognize. The story can be spread and heard, but if it is not remembered and built off of, then the society risks falling into the same traps as before. Therefore, such truth depends on frequent remembering, again returning the to initial conflict between remembering and a state’s stability.