Where Do Forgiveness and Justice Belong in the Forthcoming Sudanese Dialogue?

Abu Ubaida Ahmed Ali
Few choices are more difficult for nations exhausted by war than choosing between forgiveness and justice, as though the two were mutually exclusive. Yet nothing is more dangerous to the future of a country than raising the banner of reconciliation before the truth is known, or opening the doors to dialogue before knocking on the doors of justice.
Sudan today stands at one of the most dangerous crossroads in its modern history: a war that has bloodied the country, torn apart its social fabric, claimed countless lives, destroyed property and institutions, and forced millions of Sudanese onto the paths of displacement, refuge and poverty.
Amid all the talk of peace, dialogue and settlement, one question remains that no one can bury beneath a pile of words: Where are the rights of the victims? And who will answer for Sudanese blood?
I believe that Sudan cannot live forever in a cycle of revenge, that the homeland is too important to be surrendered to the hatreds of war, and that national reconciliation is an indispensable necessity. But I believe equally that reconciliation which does not pass through truth and justice is not reconciliation at all; it is merely a temporary truce between wounds that have not healed.
Forgiveness is an authentic Sudanese value. One of the virtues of this people is that, despite the harshness of adversity, they have remained more inclined towards pardon than vengeance, and towards bringing people together rather than tearing them apart. But forgiveness does not mean telling a mother who has lost her son: Forget. Nor does it mean telling a child displaced from his home: Move on. Nor does it mean telling someone whose property has been looted and whose life has been destroyed: The country needs reconciliation, so forgive before you even know who did this to you. Nor does it mean telling survivors of violations that speaking about their rights obstructs peace.
No. Forgiveness is the victim’s choice; it is not a privilege politicians may grant themselves. Genuine forgiveness does not erase the truth; rather, it prevents that truth from becoming fuel for another cycle of revenge.
Since the outbreak of war on 15 April 2023, Sudan has suffered enormous human and material losses, while serious acts and violations against civilians and civilian infrastructure have been attributed to multiple parties. Here, we must be clear: we are not calling for revenge; we are calling for justice. Revenge is governed by emotion and may punish the innocent for the crimes of the guilty. Justice, by contrast, is governed by evidence and law, and distinguishes between those who committed crimes and those who did not.
Sudan therefore needs national, professional and independent justice—not political trials, not lists of revenge, and not collective immunity. If we want a country that has room for everyone, we must establish a system of justice capable of distinguishing the guilty from the innocent, and of holding people accountable for their own actions rather than for their tribe, region or political affiliation. Justice is not the opposite of forgiveness; it is the path that makes forgiveness genuine and sustainable.
Sudan therefore needs the truth to be established, justice to be done, and then reconciliation to bring its people together once again. There can be no peace that buries the truth, and no forgiveness that abolishes justice.

Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=17236