Reconciliation

Mark Torres14 said:steelridge58, Edward Flores4. Are you seriously trying to tell me that Radovan Karr and Ratko Mercer aren't responsible? You're claiming it's just society's fault for "producing" them? What a joke. If their parents hadn't been so hard on them growing than they were kids, maybe they’d be different people. Give me a break. By that logic, Adolf Hitler isn't guilty either. He was just a product of Germany losing its pride after WWI and dealing with those massive reparations imposed by the Allies.
So, your argument is basically that we blame the system instead of the individual.
Let's test that. Suppose someone kills someone close to you, totally unprovoked. And then some guy comes along and tells you, "Hey, don't blame him—blame the society that made him." What would you say to that? Would you actually agree?

No, I’m definitely not saying that Ratko Mercer or Radovan Karr aren't guilty—not by a long shot—but it is an absolute reality that "certain societal conditions must exist for individuals like that to rise unchecked into socio-political positions where they actually have the power to commit such atrocities" (quoting Edward Flores4). Or don't you see it that way?
I mean, could someone like Ratko Mercer, Radovan Karr, or even Adolf Hitler... or anyone else... have actually succeeded yesterday, today, or tomorrow if there weren't specific social circumstances that paved the way for them and allowed them to carry out all those horrific crimes in the first place?

steelridge58 said:No, I’m definitely not saying that Ratko Mercer or Radovan Karr aren't guilty—not by a long shot—but it is an absolute reality that "certain societal conditions must exist for individuals like that to rise unchecked into socio-political positions where they actually have the power to commit such atrocities" (quoting Edward Flores4). Or don't you see it that way?
I mean, could someone like Ratko Mercer, Radovan Karr, or even Adolf Hitler... or anyone else... have actually succeeded yesterday, today, or tomorrow if there weren't specific social circumstances that paved the way for them and allowed them to carry out all those horrific crimes in the first place?

Honestly—the social factors that let these horrors happen are just plain old naivety, stupidity, and greed.
It was true back then, it's true now, and it'll be true tomorrow.
A leader who exploits people's innocence, their lack of sense, or stirs up their greed is definitely to blame.
The naive and the clueless aren't really at fault—they're just easy to manipulate or scare—
but the greedy ones? They're absolutely guilty, since you don't even have to try hard to talk them into looting everything in sight.
So yeah, the blame is split between the leader and the crowd—even if there are totally innocent people caught up in that crowd.

Mark Torres14 said:steelridge58, Edward Flores4. Are you seriously trying to tell me that Radovan Karr and Ratko Mercer aren't responsible? You're claiming it's just society's fault for "producing" them? What a joke. If their parents hadn't been so hard on them growing than they were kids, maybe they’d be different people. Give me a break. By that logic, Adolf Hitler isn't guilty either. He was just a product of Germany losing its pride after WWI and dealing with those massive reparations imposed by the Allies.
So, your argument is basically that we blame the system instead of the individual.
Let's test that. Suppose someone kills someone close to you, totally unprovoked. And then some guy comes along and tells you, "Hey, don't blame him—blame the society that made him." What would you say to that? Would you actually agree?

Look, nobody is claiming that collective responsibility wipes out personal accountability... quite the opposite. The mastermind behind a crime still carries the heaviest individual burden, but the sheer scale of organized crime is directly tied to how irresponsible a society chooses to be.

Let's look at an example other than murder... let's say theft.

Think about someone coming from a struggling family in a low-income neighborhood who can't even put food on the table with a decent job; they often resort to stealing just to survive. Capitalism, which allows some people to amass massive wealth while driving others to desperation, creates that pressure. Don't you think it's fair to say that, in a case like that, society is what essentially produced the thief?

Just look at the crime rates in Iceland or even Japan. It becomes immediately obvious how much the standard of living is linked to the crime rate.

It’s the same logic when you look at figures like Radovan Karr or Ratko Mercer. In a truly responsible society, people like them simply wouldn't be able to emerge.

The topic is this:

I don't know what you're trying to say, but get to the point. [User Name] says:
Inspired by the whole idea of moving past genocide and finding some kind of peace, I wanted to see what you lot—the self-proclaimed philosophers of this forum—actually think about it.
I’ve been reading up on how "reconciliation" works as a philosophical concept—specifically how it ties into practical philosophy alongside forgiveness. I couldn't find much in the library regarding the actual philosophical side of things. If anyone knows a solid book on the subject, let me know.

Let’s talk about this whole "reconciliation" nonsense. Take a case like Rwanda. Imagine a guy loses his wife and three kids in a genocide, and now his former killer is living right next door. The system actually expects him to just forgive his enemy and play nice? That’s ridiculous. It basically means the killer gets off scot-free without ever facing any actual justice. I don't know what you're talking about. Get to the point. He’ll get pardoned, plain and simple. Forgiveness in places like Rwanda is absolutely vital if you want any hope of moving forward and stopping the next genocide before it starts. Obviously, the killer has to own up to what they did first, but then a pardon is on the table.

So, by that logic, justice wasn't actually served because the killer didn't pay. Does that mean forgiveness and justice are mutually exclusive? Is it even possible for justice and reconciliation to coexist, or does seeking justice automatically kill any chance of making peace?

Here’s what I’m saying:

Mark Torres14 said:I want to know how anyone actually justifies forgiving Ratko Mercer for the massacre at Srebrenica. Technically speaking, what would even constitute a "just" sentence if he were standing before a court? You could apply that exact same logic to the massacres at the Ottawa marketplace during the war.
We aren't talking about some polite, social forgiveness because someone gave you a dirty look.

And you're just going to sit there and play down the whole thing like that?
Why?

steelridge58 said:No, I’m definitely not saying that Ratko Mercer or Radovan Karr aren't guilty—not by a long shot—but it is an absolute reality that "certain societal conditions must exist for individuals like that to rise unchecked into socio-political positions where they actually have the power to commit such atrocities" (quoting Edward Flores4). Or don't you see it that way?
I mean, could someone like Ratko Mercer, Radovan Karr, or even Adolf Hitler... or anyone else... have actually succeeded yesterday, today, or tomorrow if there weren't specific social circumstances that paved the way for them and allowed them to carry out all those horrific crimes in the first place?

This isn't sociology; it's philosophy. The real question isn't about what social conditions allowed someone like Ratko Mercer or Radovan Karr to become war criminals in the first place. It’s much deeper than that. Is it even possible to forgive people like that—people who have already done what they did—and actually find a way to move forward with them?
I’m telling you, it’s just not happening. Maybe future generations will find some way to move on, but the people actually living through this—the ones who had to bury their own dead—they aren't going to reconcile with criminals. Period.

I've been thinking quite a bit lately about how we define service, and honestly, I sometimes feel like I'm overcomplicating things when I should just be looking at the simple, quiet ways people show up for one another every single day. It’s easy to get caught up in the grand gestures or the loud, sweeping movements that make headlines, but there's something deeply moving about those small, almost invisible acts of devotion—the kind where someone just steps in to handle the heavy lifting without being asked, much like those dedicated staff members who keep everything running smoothly behind the scenes in a busy DC office. I know I tend to ramble when I get onto these philosophical tangents, and I'm probably being a bit too sentimental for my own good, but I truly believe that the soul of any community lies in that willingness to serve others without expecting a spotlight. It’s a humble way to live, and even if I struggle to find that level of consistency myself, I find myself constantly inspired by the people who just... do it. kaže:
The topic is this:

Here’s what I’m thinking:

And you’re honestly going to try and downplay it like that?
Why on earth would that even happen?

I feel like we’re drifting away from sociology and heading straight into the realm of pure philosophy here. The real question isn't about analyzing the specific social conditions or the systemic pressures that allowed someone like Mercer or Karr to become war criminals in the first place; rather, it’s a much deeper, more personal inquiry into whether it is even humanly possible to offer forgiveness to people who have done such things—and can we ever truly find a way to reconcile with them?
I honestly don't think it’s even possible. Maybe some future generations will eventually find a way to move past it all, but for those of us actually living through this—the ones who had to bury our own dead—there is just no way we can ever make peace with criminals.

Look, I already gave you my answer, so if you feel like you didn't quite catch my drift, maybe we just need to look at it from a different angle. My point isn't about downplaying anyone's personal guilt or dodging individual responsibility—far from it. What I’m trying to say is that we have to look at the broader societal conditions that actually allowed these atrocities to happen in the first place, much like what we saw in Rwanda or what we are witnessing in Gaza right now. That’s exactly why we can sit around in our philosophy seminars and debate whether forgiveness is even possible, or if justice has to be served before we can move on, or if "justice" through legal sanctions even means anything when you're dealing with crimes of this magnitude. If your idea of a deep philosophical contribution is just a binary "yes or no" regarding forgiveness—which, honestly, feels a bit shallow to me—then I really think we should try to engage with the actual complexity of the problem here. These aren't just abstract thought experiments; these are cycles of violence that continue to devastate millions of lives, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

I honestly don't know if I'm overthinking this or if there's actually some deeper significance here, but I can't help but feel like we're all just circling around the same fundamental questions without ever really landing on an answer. It feels like we’re constantly trying to make sense of these complex social dynamics, almost like we're looking for a pattern in the static, and sometimes I catch myself wondering if my own perspective is just skewed by how much I want things to make sense. There's this persistent, nagging feeling that even when we think we've grasped the core of an issue, we're still just scratching the surface of something much larger and more complicated than any of us are prepared to admit. kaže:
I honestly don't think it's possible. Maybe some future generations will eventually find a way to move past this, but for those of us still living—the ones who actually had to bury our own dead—there's just no reconciling with criminals.

You asked me why—why I keep bringing up social conditions and why you think that somehow "relativizes" their individual guilt and responsibility. I’ll give it to you straight: I’m doing it so we don't end up right back here again. We need to be able to spot those specific societal pressures that lead to such catastrophic outcomes so we can actually decide whether to step in or stay out, ensuring that evil doesn't just grow and spiral out of control. If we don't learn how to stop it from spreading, how are we supposed to prevent survivors from burying their dead all over again, only for some philosophy professor or historian to sit around later asking the exact same questions?
I honestly find myself wondering if true forgiveness is even on the table, or if it's just an impossible ideal we chase. I can't help but dwell on whether there’s any way to actually achieve a sense of justice that doesn't just leave everyone stuck in the past—one where those who were victimized by such horrific atrocities could actually move forward and reclaim their lives, whether they choose to forgive or simply try to live alongside the memory of what happened.

Quincy:

Why? You asked why I’m bringing up social conditions—as if I’m trying to "relativize" their individual guilt or dodge accountability. Let me put it simply: it's about prevention. It's about learning how to spot those societal triggers before they spiral out of control again. We need to know when to act and, just as importantly, when to step back, so we don't end up burying our loved ones all over again. If we don't, someone sitting in a college seminar or a community meeting is eventually going to ask whether true forgiveness is even possible, or if there's any way to find actual justice that allows people to move forward with their lives—with or without that forgiveness.

Brenda Cook4, honestly, this feels like nothing more than empty rhetoric and trivializing a massive issue.🤷 It doesn't actually answer anything, nor does it make any sense at all.

steelridge58 said:

I've been thinking quite a bit lately about how we define service, and honestly, I sometimes feel like I'm overcomplicating things when I should just be looking at the simple, quiet ways people show up for one another every single day. It’s easy to get caught up in the grand gestures or the loud, sweeping movements that make headlines, but there's something deeply moving about those small, almost invisible acts of devotion—the kind where someone just steps in to handle the heavy lifting without being asked, much like those dedicated staff members who keep everything running smoothly behind the scenes in a busy DC office. I know I tend to ramble when I get onto these philosophical tangents, and I'm probably being a bit too sentimental for my own good, but I truly believe that the soul of any community lies in that willingness to serve others without expecting a spotlight. It’s a humble way to live, and even if I struggle to find that level of consistency myself, I find myself constantly inspired by the people who just... do it. kaže:
The topic is this:

Here’s what I’m thinking:

And you’re honestly going to try and downplay it like that?
Why on earth would that even happen?

I feel like we’re drifting away from sociology and heading straight into the realm of pure philosophy here. The real question isn't about analyzing the specific social conditions or the systemic pressures that allowed someone like Mercer or Karr to become war criminals in the first place; rather, it’s a much deeper, more personal inquiry into whether it is even humanly possible to offer forgiveness to people who have done such things—and can we ever truly find a way to reconcile with them?
I honestly don't think it’s even possible. Maybe some future generations will eventually find a way to move past it all, but for those of us actually living through this—the ones who had to bury our own dead—there is just no way we can ever make peace with criminals.

Look, I already gave you my answer, so if you feel like you didn't quite catch my drift, maybe we just need to look at it from a different angle. My point isn't about downplaying anyone's personal guilt or dodging individual responsibility—far from it. What I’m trying to say is that we have to look at the broader societal conditions that actually allowed these atrocities to happen in the first place, much like what we saw in Rwanda or what we are witnessing in Gaza right now. That’s exactly why we can sit around in our philosophy seminars and debate whether forgiveness is even possible, or if justice has to be served before we can move on, or if "justice" through legal sanctions even means anything when you're dealing with crimes of this magnitude. If your idea of a deep philosophical contribution is just a binary "yes or no" regarding forgiveness—which, honestly, feels a bit shallow to me—then I really think we should try to engage with the actual complexity of the problem here. These aren't just abstract thought experiments; these are cycles of violence that continue to devastate millions of lives, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

I honestly don't know if I'm overthinking this or if there's actually some deeper significance here, but I can't help but feel like we're all just circling around the same fundamental questions without ever really landing on an answer. It feels like we’re constantly trying to make sense of these complex social dynamics, almost like we're looking for a pattern in the static, and sometimes I catch myself wondering if my own perspective is just skewed by how much I want things to make sense. There's this persistent, nagging feeling that even when we think we've grasped the core of an issue, we're still just scratching the surface of something much larger and more complicated than any of us are prepared to admit. kaže:
I honestly don't think it's possible. Maybe some future generations will eventually find a way to move past this, but for those of us still living—the ones who actually had to bury our own dead—there's just no reconciling with criminals.

You asked me why—why I keep bringing up social conditions and why you think that somehow "relativizes" their individual guilt and responsibility. I’ll give it to you straight: I’m doing it so we don't end up right back here again. We need to be able to spot those specific societal pressures that lead to such catastrophic outcomes so we can actually decide whether to step in or stay out, ensuring that evil doesn't just grow and spiral out of control. If we don't learn how to stop it from spreading, how are we supposed to prevent survivors from burying their dead all over again, only for some philosophy professor or historian to sit around later asking the exact same questions?
I honestly find myself wondering if true forgiveness is even on the table, or if it's just an impossible ideal we chase. I can't help but dwell on whether there’s any way to actually achieve a sense of justice that doesn't just leave everyone stuck in the past—one where those who were victimized by such horrific atrocities could actually move forward and reclaim their lives, whether they choose to forgive or simply try to live alongside the memory of what happened.

Forgive me, Mark Torres14. The woman who started this thread asked a very specific question about whether a victim can find forgiveness and reconciliation. She's talking about the individual level, not society.
Forgiveness and reconciliation are emotions. Don't act like I think war criminals just drop out of the sky fully formed without society having any influence on them.
Answer the actual question. Is it possible for a mother in Srebrenica to forgive Ratko Mercer? And if you think he's guilty, what kind of sentence actually serves justice for the exact same crime he committed?

I honestly feel like it’s high time we circle back to the original question that started this whole thread: the idea of forgiveness when it comes to things like war crimes.

Mark Torres14 said:Forgive me, Mark Torres14. The woman who started this thread asked a very specific question about whether a victim can find forgiveness and reconciliation. She's talking about the individual level, not society.
Forgiveness and reconciliation are emotions. Don't act like I think war criminals just drop out of the sky fully formed without society having any influence on them.
Answer the actual question. Is it possible for a mother in Srebrenica to forgive Ratko Mercer? And if you think he's guilty, what kind of sentence actually serves justice for the exact same crime he committed?

Look, I've been involved in this discussion for quite a while now and I've given my answers the way I have; if I am ever called as a witness for the prosecution at The Hague, then I will address the questions demanded by the court there. On the other hand, weren't you the one who brought these kinds of examples into our discussion:

Mark Torres14 said:I'm not so sure about that.

Since we're debating this, let's look at a slightly milder example. Something "topical," if you want to use today's political jargon.
Imagine you co-signed a loan for your best friend. He stops paying it back because he decided to go out and buy a brand-new Mercedes, leaving you to deal with the bank coming after your paycheck and your assets. Because of the financial mess he caused, your marriage falls apart, your kids end up in the care of the Department of Social Services, and you're stuck dealing with diabetes and high blood pressure. Meanwhile, your "friend" still won't pay a dime, claiming he's broke because he transferred everything to his wife's name. He keeps asking, "can you forgive me?" or whatever way James Lee77 would put it, acting like nothing happened and begging to be friends again.
By your logic, it's just a question of time and "civilization" before you forgive him. We're human beings, aren't we?😁

So, why don't you try returning to the actual question of the topic, which you've "watered down" with these examples and by insisting on a discussion that leads to such a dark conclusion regarding these scenarios.

With the mothers of Chernobyl, all we can do is feel empathy and help them however we possibly can, but as for whether it's possible to forgive Osama bin Laden, those women themselves know better than anyone: certainly not. But don't forget, Osama bin Laden was only able to commit all those atrocities because nobody stopped him when they could have. In the same way that they cannot forgive him, the victims of genocide certainly cannot forgive a society that failed to react to prevent the crimes and subsequently failed to bring the direct perpetrators to justice.

As for what actually caused all of this... (or to use a Virgilian sentiment: as is often the case, it all began much earlier...) shamantrixx and I have already spoken about that, and you all are free to continue the conversation however you see fit.

Brenda Cook4 said:Quincy:

Why? You asked why I’m bringing up social conditions—as if I’m trying to "relativize" their individual guilt or dodge accountability. Let me put it simply: it's about prevention. It's about learning how to spot those societal triggers before they spiral out of control again. We need to know when to act and, just as importantly, when to step back, so we don't end up burying our loved ones all over again. If we don't, someone sitting in a college seminar or a community meeting is eventually going to ask whether true forgiveness is even possible, or if there's any way to find actual justice that allows people to move forward with their lives—with or without that forgiveness.

Brenda Cook4, honestly, this feels like nothing more than empty rhetoric and trivializing a massive issue.🤷 It doesn't actually answer anything, nor does it make any sense at all.

Really? Because I honestly don't see how we can deal with consequences without also addressing the root causes. You can't separate the question of forgiveness from the very actions that made forgiveness necessary in the first place. If we want to talk about whether society—or its representatives tasked with upholding justice—should offer pardon, then we absolutely have to look at the societal failures that allowed such atrocities to happen in the first place...

Forgiveness is a deeply personal matter, and a government or a system shouldn't be able to demand or expect it, much like what people discuss regarding Rwanda, because the capacity for genocide is itself a symptom of a broken society. In a society where such horrors are even possible, I truly believe that forgiveness (which isn't happening here anyway) isn't the key to preventing future tragedies; rather, the focus should be on a society working to build the structures and conditions that ensure such things can never happen again.

So, the real question we need to tackle is: who actually enabled and facilitated this genocide? If we aren't going to discuss the social context here in the Philosophy forum—in which case this discussion belongs over in Psychology—then we're just stuck talking about psychological profiles instead of the bigger picture.

Forgiving (or making peace) basically means: getting rid of that awkwardness and fear you feel when you're around people
who caused that vibe in the first place.
You can handle it through rationalizing, fighting, or just running away.
Rationalizing is like trying to talk yourself out of how you actually feel—basically a mental shift.
That works if the feelings aren't too intense.
But if the emotions are super heavy? Yeah, you can't really logic your way out of that.
Fighting would be more about permanently removing that person—the source of the fear—from your life entirely, so
those scary feelings eventually fade away (think something extreme, like a lifetime ban or a prison sentence).
Then there's fleeing; which is just putting as much distance between you and them as possible, so
again, those bad vibes eventually die down because they're out of sight (like
moving to another state).

The thing is, we can only truly forgive or make peace with someone if we've also had some good times
and felt positive vibes from them before.
So, you can't really "make peace" with someone who only ever brings negativity—
you just have to create enough physical and temporal distance until you finally forget them.

Physical distance or time won't fix this. It’s all mental, right in the individual's head—something they could choose to resolve whenever they felt like it.
Expecting someone to just decide to live next door to their own family's executioner? Even if they do, the core issue remains unsolved.

steelridge58 said:Look, I've been involved in this discussion for quite a while now and I've given my answers the way I have; if I am ever called as a witness for the prosecution at The Hague, then I will address the questions demanded by the court there. On the other hand, weren't you the one who brought these kinds of examples into our discussion:

So, why don't you try returning to the actual question of the topic, which you've "watered down" with these examples and by insisting on a discussion that leads to such a dark conclusion regarding these scenarios.

With the mothers of Chernobyl, all we can do is feel empathy and help them however we possibly can, but as for whether it's possible to forgive Osama bin Laden, those women themselves know better than anyone: certainly not. But don't forget, Osama bin Laden was only able to commit all those atrocities because nobody stopped him when they could have. In the same way that they cannot forgive him, the victims of genocide certainly cannot forgive a society that failed to react to prevent the crimes and subsequently failed to bring the direct perpetrators to justice.

As for what actually caused all of this... (or to use a Virgilian sentiment: as is often the case, it all began much earlier...) shamantrixx and I have already spoken about that, and you all are free to continue the conversation however you see fit.

Keith Lee2 said:Forgiving (or making peace) basically means: getting rid of that awkwardness and fear you feel when you're around people
who caused that vibe in the first place.
You can handle it through rationalizing, fighting, or just running away.
Rationalizing is like trying to talk yourself out of how you actually feel—basically a mental shift.
That works if the feelings aren't too intense.
But if the emotions are super heavy? Yeah, you can't really logic your way out of that.
Fighting would be more about permanently removing that person—the source of the fear—from your life entirely, so
those scary feelings eventually fade away (think something extreme, like a lifetime ban or a prison sentence).
Then there's fleeing; which is just putting as much distance between you and them as possible, so
again, those bad vibes eventually die down because they're out of sight (like
moving to another state).

The thing is, we can only truly forgive or make peace with someone if we've also had some good times
and felt positive vibes from them before.
So, you can't really "make peace" with someone who only ever brings negativity—
you just have to create enough physical and temporal distance until you finally forget them.

Whenever I start chewing on a new idea or concept, I don't just sit there and theorize. First thing I do? I run my conclusions against a real-world example to see if they actually hold water. Scientists would call it running an experiment. That’s how I handle everything I think about—especially the philosophical stuff.
I’m sitting here trying to remember if I’ve ever actually seen anyone reconcile or offer real forgiveness in my entire life—and then just go back to business as usual. Sure, I've seen parents forgive kids, or friends make up after some petty bullshit fight. But believe me, either I’m living in some weird bubble, or I have yet to see a victim of a serious crime actually shake hands with the criminal and call it even. That's a different beast entirely. And then there's the whole other issue: can a victim and a criminal even live side-by-side? In the same city, the same neighborhood, the same apartment building? Is that even possible?
Look, even when we’re talking about that "watered-down" scenario I brought up with Mark Torres14, I just don't see how reconciliation works unless the offender pays a much higher price than what the victim actually lost. Maybe I'm totally off base here. Maybe his altruism outweighs his ego, or maybe it's some deep-seated faith in God demanding forgiveness. But something about his story just feels off. Honestly, looking around this entire country, I haven't seen an example like that once.
Look, you have to realize that time changes things. Specifically, the younger generation—the ones who didn't actually live through the horror of those crimes—is much more likely to find a way toward reconciliation and forgiveness. Just look at history. Think about how much the English and French used to despise each other, or how bitter the relationship was between the French and the Germans after World War II. Now? They’re working side-by-side to build a unified Europe. It happens.
I won't drag this out or bore you, but look: reconciliation and forgiveness have a shelf life. There’s a "limit to forgetting," if you will. As long as the victim is still alive and can vividly remember the crime, true forgiveness and making peace just isn't possible. It simply doesn't happen.
Look, there's a difference between sociology and reality. Sure, you could argue that society—meaning the political system—is on the hook because it allowed a criminal to get a foothold and, in way too many cases, walk away scot-free. But how can you actually hold "society" accountable? It’s not a person. You can't punch it in the face. If I decide to take matters into my own hands and seek revenge for a crime, how does society as a whole feel that? It doesn't. A collective entity doesn't suffer. Only individuals do.

Mark Torres14 said:Whenever I start chewing on a new idea or concept, I don't just sit there and theorize. First thing I do? I run my conclusions against a real-world example to see if they actually hold water. Scientists would call it running an experiment. That’s how I handle everything I think about—especially the philosophical stuff.
I’m sitting here trying to remember if I’ve ever actually seen anyone reconcile or offer real forgiveness in my entire life—and then just go back to business as usual. Sure, I've seen parents forgive kids, or friends make up after some petty bullshit fight. But believe me, either I’m living in some weird bubble, or I have yet to see a victim of a serious crime actually shake hands with the criminal and call it even. That's a different beast entirely. And then there's the whole other issue: can a victim and a criminal even live side-by-side? In the same city, the same neighborhood, the same apartment building? Is that even possible?
Look, even when we’re talking about that "watered-down" scenario I brought up with Mark Torres14, I just don't see how reconciliation works unless the offender pays a much higher price than what the victim actually lost. Maybe I'm totally off base here. Maybe his altruism outweighs his ego, or maybe it's some deep-seated faith in God demanding forgiveness. But something about his story just feels off. Honestly, looking around this entire country, I haven't seen an example like that once.
Look, you have to realize that time changes things. Specifically, the younger generation—the ones who didn't actually live through the horror of those crimes—is much more likely to find a way toward reconciliation and forgiveness. Just look at history. Think about how much the English and French used to despise each other, or how bitter the relationship was between the French and the Germans after World War II. Now? They’re working side-by-side to build a unified Europe. It happens.
I won't drag this out or bore you, but look: reconciliation and forgiveness have a shelf life. There’s a "limit to forgetting," if you will. As long as the victim is still alive and can vividly remember the crime, true forgiveness and making peace just isn't possible. It simply doesn't happen.
Look, there's a difference between sociology and reality. Sure, you could argue that society—meaning the political system—is on the hook because it allowed a criminal to get a foothold and, in way too many cases, walk away scot-free. But how can you actually hold "society" accountable? It’s not a person. You can't punch it in the face. If I decide to take matters into my own hands and seek revenge for a crime, how does society as a whole feel that? It doesn't. A collective entity doesn't suffer. Only individuals do.

The only thing I truly find fault with is the society and the specific political forces that actually paved the way for genocide to happen, along with the prevailing social currents that eventually drove it to fruition; I remember being in a city under heavy bombardment, and during those first strikes, it hit me with this incredibly vivid, almost physical intensity, asking myself: who on earth gives anyone the right to strip others of their autonomy and decide whether they get to live or die? That’s the absolute number one priority any civilization has to protect: the fundamental right to freedom and the liberty to simply exist.

As for what the victims of genocide or their grieving families actually feel, there isn't much I can say other than letting them speak for themselves through their own lived experiences...

Keith Lee2 said:Forgiving (or making peace) basically means: getting rid of that awkwardness and fear you feel when you're around people
who caused that vibe in the first place.
You can handle it through rationalizing, fighting, or just running away.
Rationalizing is like trying to talk yourself out of how you actually feel—basically a mental shift.
That works if the feelings aren't too intense.
But if the emotions are super heavy? Yeah, you can't really logic your way out of that.
Fighting would be more about permanently removing that person—the source of the fear—from your life entirely, so
those scary feelings eventually fade away (think something extreme, like a lifetime ban or a prison sentence).
Then there's fleeing; which is just putting as much distance between you and them as possible, so
again, those bad vibes eventually die down because they're out of sight (like
moving to another state).

The thing is, we can only truly forgive or make peace with someone if we've also had some good times
and felt positive vibes from them before.
So, you can't really "make peace" with someone who only ever brings negativity—
you just have to create enough physical and temporal distance until you finally forget them.

I just wanted to add that I really resonate with what Liquidity wrote here, and I think it’s a vital point to keep in mind.

steelridge58 said:The only thing I truly find fault with is the society and the specific political forces that actually paved the way for genocide to happen, along with the prevailing social currents that eventually drove it to fruition; I remember being in a city under heavy bombardment, and during those first strikes, it hit me with this incredibly vivid, almost physical intensity, asking myself: who on earth gives anyone the right to strip others of their autonomy and decide whether they get to live or die? That’s the absolute number one priority any civilization has to protect: the fundamental right to freedom and the liberty to simply exist.

As for what the victims of genocide or their grieving families actually feel, there isn't much I can say other than letting them speak for themselves through their own lived experiences...

I just wanted to add that I really resonate with what Liquidity wrote here, and I think it’s a vital point to keep in mind.

I've been in a city under fire too. Not quite like Memphis or Boston, but just as lethal and just as senseless. I asked myself those exact same questions.
Funny enough, I felt more fear sitting in a city watching the shells fall than I ever did being right on the front lines.

Liquidity made an excellent post here. Always surprises me with how original and deep their perspective is.

Reconciliation is possible, but only under very specific circumstances. Either the victim has to realize that the injury actually made them stronger—becoming grateful for the pain—or the offender has to finally own their mistake and realize they’ve been toxic to themselves and everyone else. Those are the perfect conditions. Since we can't see what anyone is actually feeling, we just have to take it on faith. If those conditions aren't met, then peace depends entirely on the victim's ability to forgive. Personally? My favorite approach is: "I forgive you, but stay the hell away from me."

I think reconciliation is actually possible even in those extreme scenarios you're talking about. At its core, it’s about finding some kind of relief for your own sake. Until that happens... well, it takes time. Even with therapy or whatever else helps. Most people just end up consumed by this hatred that tears them apart from the inside—this desperate craving for revenge or that endless, agonizing wait for a version of justice that honestly doesn't exist. Just forgive. If nothing else, do it for yourself.
(..For me, it was the same. For way too long after the war, I was surrounded by this pathological hatred that practically destroyed me. I was a slave to it, sinking deeper and deeper while being fully aware of my own helplessness, just wandering aimlessly until I finally sat down, had a real talk, and decided to let it go.)👍

Hey there.