The narrative approach can be valuable, especially in the context of atrocity crimes and transitional justice. Even in the transitional justice space, hard law and prosecutions are privileged over other forms of justice, such as truth and reconciliation commissions. While there is certainly value in prosecuting those involved in committing atrocities, the nature of certain crimes, such as genocide, makes it difficult to prosecute every single perpetrator. Further, some perpetrators are also victims in their own way––this complicates the notion that prosecution will rightfully punish the “bad actors.”
Another way to achieve healing and justice can be through storytelling; in the transitional justice context, this can include truth and reconciliation commissions. For some victims, sharing their experience in a public forum can help them achieve peace and justice. Feeling heard and validated in an official setting can be cathartic, allowing victims to move forward and heal. Truth commission reports can also provide a framework in which to discuss violence, and to help establish necessary institutions that will allow a state to move forward post-atrocity.
However, an issue that arises when using narrative jurisprudence is the potential for exploitation of such narratives. Survivors of atrocities may become re-traumatized by being forced to share their narratives in the name of justice. Forcing survivors to engage in truth telling could be an imposition of Western determinations of what is best on those who may not view truth telling as the appropriate path towards healing and justice. This reality echoes Greta Olsen’s frustration with American scholarship, which assumes that “it is universal in its approach.” In this way, western ideas of justice and the law co-opt the intention behind the narrative approach to law, which provides “access to a previously inaccessible reality, which oppositional storytelling would uncover.” (Peters 447). By mandating storytelling in the context of transitional justice, these western ideas of justice rob survivors of their agency and autonomy, perverting the value of the oppositional narrative.
Comments by Olivia Wang