I have hinted in earlier papers at the possibility that religious discourse had two major functions around the TRC; first, it makes the justification and explanation of how forgiveness works and what its effects are easier to formulate in already known parameters and in a familiar language. Second, it envelops the entire exercise in a protective mystical bubble away from conventional political/legal analysis. There may even be a latent or implied dismissal of those who dispute the forgiveness model as not being "good Christians." While I am not aware of it having gone that far, there certainly is at least an appearance of both special expertise of religious people in matters basically related to the "word of God" and at the same time a prefabricated "explanation" of why certain people have not accepted the reconciliation model (akin to not accepting the word of God). When Archbishop Tutu says South Africa is a "crazy country" he is referring to the unexplainable or at least apparently anomalous forgiveness of terrible acts. The implication is that, as I have pointed out elsewhere, the fact that some people are capable of straying from conventional punitive/retributive justice is truly bizarre and thus must be religiously or mystically inspired. This in turn puts a godly seal of approval on the project. "Because I believe I act under God s orders, I say yes, I have forgiven you, so I won t oppose your amnesty application," says a victim of the Heidelberg tavern massacre during the amnesty hearing. Of course one problem is that for ordinary Christians God-ordered forgiveness does not allow for the imposition of conditions such as compensation, apologies, etc. It is only in confession and equivalents that truth becomes important, and even then it is only important for the "sinner", not for ones he has sinned against. They are supposed to forgive no matter what, and this is precisely what the TRC does "for" them.

I can now think of a third use of religious discourse, namely that it acts as a shield against potential accusations of political bias. Theological discourse is assumed to be apolitical, at least in the sense that it is not directly aligned with a particular political party. Thus statements by Archbishop Tutu worded in a religious framework defeat potential accusations of ANC bias for instance. At the NP, where I was told that "we have no problem with Tutu," deputy chair Alex Boraine invariably draws fiery criticism. Boraine was at one time president of the Methodist Church but usually talks about the TRC process in secular legal/human rights terms (perhaps more importantly he also was at one time a member of Parliament for the defunct Progressive Federal Party). So in fact religious discourse isolates the TRC not simply from its critics, but from both the victims and the perpetrators as well.

Of course my point here is not that it is surprising that an archbishop would use religious language. I am simply trying to evaluate the extent to which religious discourse permeates the TRC s logic. I m not sure if it was voluntary, but Tutu s use of the word "enthusiastically" is interesting: "enthusiast" originally meant inspired, or otherwise infused with the will of God. Be that as it may, I want in this section to explore a different function of the religious discourse. Elsewhere one participant of the IDASA pre-TRC (1994) conferences says:

One interesting aspect of the last two quotes is their utopian flavor; both imply that the TRC process is to be geared towards the creation (or at least the facilitation) of an ideal society, either by "striving towards perfection" or by the still unclear theological result of reconciliation. Of course even the Archbishop s "God's world" is not defined and remains an empty, or formal, concept. This is probably because Christian models of the social might be at odds, at least in the details, with other models already present in SA and thus counter-productive in terms of reconciliation. It not surprising then that Christian references are carefully identified as such: "To take a Christian paradigm, Jesus, when he had supper with his disciples, warned them not to forget his suffering but rather to remember it with the aim of striving towards perfection, lest they cause somebody else to suffer."

This last quote is from the official release of the preliminary findings of the Reparations and Rehabilitation Committee (23 Oct. 1997). I do not think it is particularly important to find out precisely whether the RR Committee, for instance, formulated its recommendations with the image of the last supper in mind or simply used it afterwards as an illustration/legitimation of their independent conclusions; it is more than likely that the reality is between the two, with a strong dose of Christian logic applied to secular necessities. But here is the point: at a certain level, it seems that several groups, institutions and individuals use biblical/theological language as a code or rather as a common basis for discussion: they are creating a specific discourse about the world of post-transition justice. It is then interesting to see how adept at using this code non-Christians can be: it is not sufficient to speak of public participation in the design of the Commission, one needs to find out whether the participants were equally competent in using the dominant discourse. A (Zulu) member of the IFP told me (but I did not ask about his religious convictions), for instance, that catholic confession to a priest in fact consisted in a superficial declaration of guilt in order to get God 's forgiveness in general. I m sure catholic priests would disagree. During the discussions of the Standing Committee on Justice (of which the aforementioned IFP member was and is still part), another (Afrikaner) IFP member, confronted with the problem of public disclosure as presented by members of the World Conference on Religion and Peace (WCRP) asked:

It is difficult to imagine in what tone the remarks were made, whether it was meant to be light or a direct attack on the WCRP members. However, and without venturing into theological analysis myself, one might agree that this last question shows a very strange intellectual paradox. The IFP member is criticizing the recommendation that hearings be open to the public, made here on a religious basis by the WCRP. First of all the fact that those making the recommendation in this particular instance are religious people does not invariably mean that everything they will say is based in theology; at the same time they still want to present themselves in terms of this special knowledge/authority they are reputed to have. In South Africa, as in other ex- or currently repressive regimes, churches (not all of them of course) were privileged places where resistance could survive because of the authorities reluctance to attack them directly (Poland and Salvador are other examples). Interesting visual evidence remains in Cape Town s former District Six, where amidst vacant lots of bulldozed houses one still finds most of the old churches and mosques untouched. This is one factor explaining the power of religious discourse in human rights protests and later in shaping possible remedies.

But beyond that, it seems obvious (and that also was the response given) that if one wants forgiveness from God, one asks God, and if one wants forgiveness from the whole nation, that is whom one should address oneself to, in perfect accordance with standard TRC rationale. The difficulty stems from the continuous merging of the religious and the secular when speaking of confession and forgiveness. What seems strange to the IFP member is that religious confessions should suddenly be public, and on the other side the religious people cannot understand why everyone thinks the forgiveness they are talking about is necessarily or entirely religious in nature. Again their problem is a difficult one since this is the area of expertise they are supposed to speak for but they need to translate that in a multicultural/secular dispensation because the proposed TRC will not be a religious institution. In terms of using religion as a code, however, it seems to work just fine; there is no iota of explanation, from one or the other side of the preceding dispute, of what forgiveness is supposed to mean. The problem of whether it is supposed to be public or private, notwithstanding the obvious political consequences, is in the end a matter of methodology.

3. The above quote from J. De Gruchy is interesting also from a different angle. It seems to show an effort of appropriation of language and ultimately the institution by the religious. Not of course that words and concepts like reconciliation etc. do not have religious significance, but it would be difficult to argue that they do not also have an autonomous civil meaning and usage as well, i.e. they are not essentially religious terms. But according to Frank Chikane, ex-secretary of the South African Council of Churches,

Furthermore,

Finally, "to deal with ["the pain of apartheid"], mediation of a religious and liturgical nature is needed. The religious community can act as a key instrument in the building of a new society by accompanying the nation into this new era.

Notably, the TRC does not involve victims significantly in its amnesty process, despite its claims to provide "restorative justice." In the current literature restorative justice usually works on two levels: first, it focuses on reparations instead of punishment and is thus deemed "forward-looking." Second, and this is where the TRC leaves the restorative model completely, it involves victims in the solution. While victims are welcomed to the TRC amnesty process and given ample time to make representations, it is only within the neo-conservative conception of participation, i.e. more often than not the idea is to counterbalance the perceived leniency of the system. Ultimately, victims have absolutely no say in the Committee 's decision on amnesty: it is simply a case of deciding if an individual applicant falls into a general category.

Religious discourse about forgiveness has helped make the matter of amnesty a dialogue between the perpetrator and the state, the exact situation that prevails in the criminal justice system.

I have shown elsewhere major elements of "magical thinking" related to the TRC, from its very slogan "truth, the road to reconciliation" to the assurance that eventual reparations will make everything better irrespective of whether or not those meant to receive them have been consulted about the project. The speech above by Archbishop Tutu is another example: the very fact that something is being done means that the ultimate objectives will be met because God wills it (early hearings were opened with a prayer, which was dropped not because it was inappropriate but because it could not represent all religions). If this discourse is powerful enough it will become a self-fulfilling profecy: God will actually help, not in terms of actual intervention of course, but in the way that the religious discourse validates the TRC 's work and objectives, gets people to participate and to evaluate the project positively. "God is on our side" may just as well mean that everyone who believes in God will (or should) support the TRC. In that sense, the "faith that moves mountains" has little to do with divinity, and it is certainly more powerful.

In my view, it is this constant ambivalence between the religious and the legal that in the end will disqualify the TRC model from inspiring conventional justice as an "alternative" to the penal model. And right now the very suggestion causes more frowning that I care to describe.