Just over a decade after the 1994 genocide, over 1,000 accused languish in Rwandan prisons. The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda and the nation's domestic courts have struggled to bring them to trial. In response, the Rwandan government has embarked on an experiment in mass justice: the gacaca courts. The new courts are inspired by traditional dispute resolution mechanisms. The judges are elected by popular vote in their cells to hear cases such as murder, assault and property offences. The system permits appeals (except for property crimes), though not to the domestic courts. The setting is less formal than criminal courts and promotes confessions from perpetrators and forgiveness from survivors. Coupled with this process are two related schemes for victim compensation and community service for those convicted. This article examines these courts from the perspectives of retributive and restorative justice, within the Rwandan context. In practice, the gacaca courts embody both principles, as well as their tension. The judges are lay persons, yet are engaged in complex legal adjudication. The accused have no right to legal representation, nor an appeal to the domestic courts. More importantly, survivors are marginalized by the process as the practical and political pressures on the Rwandan government have made them opt for expediency (more and faster trials) over reconciliation (survivor compensation and manifest regret by the perpetrators). The gacaca courts hold out much promise of reconciling a deeply divided society, but redressing the needs of victims must become a priority.
The constitutional history of Canada and First Nations is often told as the promise fulfilled of Aboriginal rights and treaties. I will challenge this story by recovering the story of the enfranchisement and disenfranchisement of ‘Indian’ subjects in the first three decades of Canadian Confederation. Far from forgotten actors in a foretold play, ‘Indian’ voters were crucial to determining the outcome of three closely contested federal elections and challenging settler ideas of the nascent Canadian nation. The question of the ‘Indian’ franchise was always embedded in competing constitutional visions for Confederation. The Canadian dream of transforming and assimilating Indigenous peoples would give way to a cynical idea of segregation under the permanent regime of the Indian Act. If the ‘Indian’ franchise was the apotheosis of assimilation, its revocation marked the start of racial segregation. I juxtapose these Canadian constitutional visions with two alternative possibilities. The Anishinaabe-dominated Grand General Council accepted the franchise as part of its vision of reconciling membership in both their treaty-recognized nations and the Canadian state. The Confederacy Council of the Six Nations, in contrast, rejected the franchise as an existential threat to Haudenosaunee self-rule mediated by a treaty relationship with the Canadian and imperial governments. Recovering the constitutional contests driving ‘Indian’ enfranchisement and disenfranchisement shows us how the successful imposition of a single vision of a white democracy silenced alternative visions of multinational coexistence. It also reminds us of the multiplicity of constitutional possibilities for a common future.
scite is a Brooklyn-based organization that helps researchers better discover and understand research articles through Smart Citations–citations that display the context of the citation and describe whether the article provides supporting or contrasting evidence. scite is used by students and researchers from around the world and is funded in part by the National Science Foundation and the National Institute on Drug Abuse of the National Institutes of Health.