Truth After Violent Conflicts – Truth-Seeking in the Context of Transitional Justice and Reconciliation Processes

“I am the way, the truth, and the life [...]”

(Figurative speech of Jesus, John 14:6)

 “To say that what is is not, or that what is not is, is false; but to say that what is is, and what is not is not, is true.”

(Aristotle, Metaphysics, Book IV (Γ), Chapter 7 (1011b25))

“Those are the facts, but not the truth.”

(Zero Day, ep. 6, Netflix – special commission investigator George Mullen, played by Robert De Niro)

Overcoming violent conflicts and building sustainable peace pose complex social and political challenges. Where systematic injustice occurs, not only are human lives and social relationships destroyed, but also facts are suppressed, concealed or denied. Especially after wars, civil wars or mass crimes such as ethnic cleansing, genocide or colonial violence, societies face a key question: How shall they deal with their past? The answer to this question directly impacts a country’s future. Building sustainable peace – whether after internal or international conflicts – requires measures that combine justice, trust and reconciliation. The role of truth, active truth-seeking and reckoning with the past becomes increasingly important in this context.

Two concepts are particularly relevant here. The first is the concept of transitional justice – an integrated approach consisting of uncovering the truth, justice, reparations and institutional reform in order to come to terms with past violence,^[1] especially in transformation phases following authoritarian regimes or armed conflicts. The aim is to foster the transition to peace, democracy and the rule of law. These four dimensions constitute the core areas of transitional justice and define how it seeks to deal with systematic injustice at a societal level through structured reappraisal. It is assumed, for example, that conventional court proceedings alone are insufficient in view of the dimensions of injustice. In addition, there is a need for alternative mechanisms based on recognition, dialogue and social integration.^[2]

The second is the concept of reconciliation, as understood in political science and social psychology. It is a a goal and a process for achieving good relations after extreme violence.^[3] Reconciliation processes arise after both intra-societal and international conflicts. They require long-term efforts toward shared remembrance, historical reckoning and institutional dialogue, and include mechanisms of transitional justice as well as a range of reparative, symbolic and ethical measures.^[4] Examples such as the Franco-German or the German-Polish reconciliation process illustrate the role of commemoration, educational initiatives and symbolic recognition. The goal is a deep peace in which, despite continuing tensions, the use of force is the least likely option.^[5] This often requires a minimum consensus on historical truth.

Truth is not a neutral entity. It is situated between documented factuality and societal recognition, between individual experience and collective processing. Its meaning unfolds on two levels: symbolically through the acknowledgement and recognition of suffering, moral rehabilitation and the restoration of dignity; and materially, for example through criminal prosecutions, reparations and structural reforms. Both levels aim to build trust between former conflict parties, whether locally or internationally, and to delegitimize violence as a means of conflict resolution.

Justice is closely linked to truth. It encompasses the allocation of responsibility and accountability, as well as the creation of legal, political and social justice through compensation and inclusion. Reparation is an important element. For many victims, justice means not only punishing the perpetrators but also experiencing equal treatment and public recognition. If justice is not served or appears selective, a loss of trust in institutions and toward former opponents is the result. A truth without consequences can be just as frustrating as justice without proper recognition of suffering.^[6]

The absence of truth – for example as a result of denial, silence or reinterpretation – constitutes a “second guilt”. It relativizes the injustice, erases the memory of the victims, and deepens societal rifts. As Desmond Tutu, Nobel Peace Prize laureate and chairman of the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) underlines, truth is the path to reconciliation.^[7] However, implementing this ideal remains a complex and multifaceted task.

Types of truth

Various forms of truth-seeking are central to transitional justice. Truth is necessary,^[8] but not sufficient on its own for a profound reconciliation process. Nevertheless, it is worth looking at different types of truth, truth-seeking and truth-telling and their role in promoting trust and stabilizing post-conflict societies. In order to form a moral basis for a society’s healing, it is necessary to acknowledge and understand historical violence, provide symbolic recognition for suffering, and establish accountability. Truth becomes a prerequisite for justice and reconciliation.

South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission defined four types of truth.^[9] To illustrate this, table 1 offers a description of these four types of truth, along with legal and historical truth.

Table 1

Truth is not merely a collection of facts – it connects past, present and future. It can be experienced individually, remembered collectively, handed down institutionally or recalled symbolically. This can be seen in the example of the fall of the Berlin Wall in Germany: an event that was personally witnessed but also documented and incorporated into interstate and international treaties. Fact is, a border was opened; in the collective perception, however, it was the beginning of German unity – an example of the difference between documented fact and remembered truth. At the same time, it was more than a border, as it separated not only two states, but two blocs. When it comes to historical events that lie beyond living memory, such as the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest, the process of discovering the truth is different. It is the result of historiography, archaeological research and societal reception. In general, historical truth is found somewhere between fact, interpretation and fiction.^[10]

In the case of the Nazi concentration and extermination camps, the factual truth is indisputable based on extensive evidence (buildings, documents, witness testimonies and court proceedings). But the truth goes beyond that. It is rooted in German memory culture and is upheld performatively in symbolic practices such as cleaning Stolpersteine (small, brass memorial stones embedded in the sidewalk) or the day of remembrance on November 9. Those who did not experience the events themselves are also able to participate in the social truth and pass it on through these forms of remembrance.

Another issue is the reliability of personal memory. Neuroscientific research shows that false memories can occur, especially under extreme stress – such as during times of war or persecution.^[11] This means that personal truth is also fragile. Nevertheless, it remains an essential component of coming to terms with the past and societal healing.

These dimensions show how truth is closely interwoven with memory, recognition, and collective identity. Memory studies focus on how and why societies remember and what they repress or tend to forget. Greece, for example, is the only country to annually commemorate its entry into the Second World War, with its national “Ohi Day” holiday on October 28. This could be a way of remembering and celebrating the heroic fight against Italian fascism, until the Wehrmacht rushed to Italy’s aid in April 1941. But celebrating the beginning and not the end of the war may also be explained by Greece’s difficult post-war history. The period of occupation led to a devastating civil war (1946-‑1949), which left deep societal divisions. The official national memory avoids the painful part of the past.^[12] This example shows that collective remembrance always implies decisions about selective forgetting.

This multitude of truth types illustrates the complexity of truth-seeking in the context of transitional justice. It requires not only facts, but also recognition and an active culture of remembrance.

Truth as a terrain of negotiation and conflict

As shown in the previous section, truth emerges as a complex construct of objective facts and associated interpretations. At the collective level, truth becomes the subject of political negotiation processes. Memory politics and diplomacy can quickly become areas of conflict, especially when different actors vie for interpretative authority. The term “memory wars” has been established in memory studies and can be found in academic literature on various conflicts.^[13] One example of a virulent memory war, which has now arrived in Germany, is the conflict between Japan and Korea over the memory of the so-called “comfort women”. During imperial Japanese colonialism and increasingly during the Second World War, the Japanese army set up brothels in occupied territories in which women from Korea and other occupied countries were often forced into sex work. While many Korean commentators describe this system as sex slavery, Japan frequently points to the allegedly voluntary nature of the women’s involvement. But the truth is much more complex.^[14] These conflicts of interpretation became visible in Germany, for example, when a memorial statue was unveiled in Berlin in 2020. The initiative met with diplomatic resistance from the Japanese government, but also with support from civil society.^[15] Those who decide on such symbols and places of remembrance also gain influence over the socially accepted truth. Here truth is not just a historical fact, but a discursive construct; it is negotiable, context-dependent, and politically charged. The example raises the question of who holds authority over the past: the surviving Korean women, the Japanese government, civil society activists, or the Governing Mayor of Berlin? Here the truth is not simply established, it is negotiated between these actors and becomes a matter of public debate. It is a dynamic process that combines political, cultural and ethical dimensions.

Another example is the debate surrounding the “Wehrmacht Exhibition” in Germany which opened in the 1990s. By documenting the Wehrmacht’s involvement in war crimes, it contradicted the hitherto widespread narrative of the “clean Wehrmacht”. Although historians had been documenting the crimes of the Wehrmacht for years, the exhibition was met with fierce rejection, particularly among conservative circles. There were protests, lawsuits, and the exhibition was temporarily suspended. But its relaunch following revisions and corrections of serious errors led to a profound shift in the public debate.^[16] Truth, as this example shows, can be controversial, painful and yet necessary, particularly when it calls into question a society’s core identity elements.

The acknowledgement of historical truth is a key requirement for reconciliation between states. The joint commemoration by German and French heads of state^[17] of the massacre of Oradour-sur-Glane serves as a highly symbolic example. On June 10, 1944, the French village was destroyed by SS units, and almost all of the people present at the time were murdered. In France, Oradour-sur-Glane is known as the village martyr – the martyred village – and has been maintained as a memorial to the atrocities committed during the occupation.^[18] A joint commemoration would hardly be conceivable without a consensus on the criminal nature of the act. It presupposes that both sides not only acknowledge the historical facts, but also share the moral interpretation; that the crime is not relativized, and that a shared commitment to commemoration, responsibility, and reconciliation emerges from it. In this context, truth is not only a historical fact, but a symbolic and political point of reference that makes shared remembrance possible. Truth is the common denominator on which reconciliation, peace policy, and trust are built.

However, past grievances can become entrenched in the form of divergent and hostile narratives. Hence, the establishment of bilateral historical commissions in the context of interstate reconciliation processes is worth mentioning. Germany founded such a commission with the former Czechoslovakia in 1990 (today there is a German-Czech and a German-Slovak one), and a German-Italian historical commission has existed since 2009. Along with the general aim of building trust through cooperation, they are also intended to help correct historical exaggerations and build bridges through research and education on shared history tainted by conflict and violence.

The struggle over truth, whether in the form of “memory wars”, the politics of history or diplomatic symbolism, reveals that violent conflicts continue to reverberate long after the fighting has stopped. Hence, truth-seeking is more than mere reconstruction, it is a social process that structures discourses, shapes identities and enables reconciliation – or makes it impossible, if truth-seeking fails to take place. Without a conscious confrontation with the past and the truth, reconciliation will remain superficial, fragmented or even impossible.^[19]

Truth as a right

The so-called “right to the truth”^[20] is inseparably linked to the practice of enforced disappearance. This is a systematic paramilitary/state practice of violence that often occurs during civil wars, where people are abducted and imprisoned or murdered without any information as to their fate or whereabouts. This method was and is being used on all continents: from Franco’s dictatorship in Spain to the military juntas of Latin America, the apartheid regime in South Africa to the death squads in Indonesia (1965/66), or the conflict parties in Columbia and Sri Lanka.

For the relatives, disappearance means more than just the loss of a person. It leaves a wound that cannot heal as long as the fate of the disappeared person remains unknown. Without certainty about death or survival, about the circumstances, the place, or a possible burial, mourning and the process of coming to terms with loss remain suspended. Everyday life becomes a state of limbo; emotionally, socially and legally. This state can last for years and decades.

In such contexts, the right to the truth is paramount. It describes the right of relatives, but also societies, to know the truth about serious human rights violations, especially about the fate of disappeared persons.^[21] The right was initially recognized implicitly in international human rights norms, but was increasingly codified explicitly during the 2000s. In 2005, the UN Human Rights Council recognized the “right to the truth” as a separate human right in its Resolution 2005/66.^[22]

In practice, this right is implemented in a variety of ways. In Cyprus, violent clashes between the Greek-Cypriot and Turkish-Cypriot communities have occurred since 1963, leading to the Turkish invasion and partition of the island. The Committee on Missing Persons in Cyprus (CMP) has been working for decades to resolve cases of missing persons.^[23] This is an example of cross-border, bi-communal truth work. In Columbia, the right to the truth was integrated into the peace agreements between the government and FARC (Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia – Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia). The truth commission was dedicated not only to establishing the facts, but also to social recognition of the victims (Vera Lugo 2016). In Nepal, where a ten-year civil war (1996-2006) between Maoist insurgents and the monarchy shook the country, implementation remained severely limited despite the installation of a truth commission.^[24] Sri Lanka suffered decades of civil war between Tamil separatists and the central government. Despite international pressure, the right to the truth has been insufficiently institutionalized.^[25] This has weakened trust in the peace process and in the legitimacy of the institutions.

Thus, the right to the truth is far more than a personal right. It is a key instrument of individual and collective healing, democratic legitimacy, and the establishment of social trust. It opens access to truth not only in the sense of historical factuality, but also as recognition, revelation, and coming to terms with suffering. It can liberate relatives from not knowing and support the socio-emotional process of coming to terms with loss. However, whether the right is implemented depends on the institutional structures and political will in the respective society.

Truth-seeking, justice, and its absence as part of the truth

Truth commissions play a central role in transitional justice processes. Their aim is to facilitate coming to terms with the past and the acknowledgement of violence, and thus serve as a basis for justice and reconciliation. However, it is often observed that truth-seeking does not necessarily bring the whole truth to light. It often remains fragmented, subjective, or is subsequently uncovered or even corrected by new facts. Therefore, it can be argued that the process of truth-seeking itself should be part of the collective truth.^[26] The attempt to establish the truth, regardless of its completeness, becomes a legitimate part of a societal reckoning. The formation of truth commissions, even if their success is limited, can have a symbolic effect and promote trust. It documents that a state or a society is making efforts to establish justice. In this way, the attempt to facilitate justice through truth becomes another form of truth.

At the same time, other examples illustrate the tension between truth and justice. For example, amnesties may be granted to perpetrators as part of political compromises in order to not jeopardize a fragile peace. This decision may be perceived to be unjust by large sections of society, particularly if there are no additional measures such as reparations, recognition, or institutional reforms. It is even more problematic when, despite clear evidence and a functioning justice system, no prosecutions take place or are avoided for political reasons; this also applies in the international context.

One example is the case of Max Merten, a high-ranking Nazi functionary and lawyer, who was the head of the German Civilian Administration (Kriegsverwaltungsrat) of the German occupation forces in Thessaloniki during the period. Merten bore central responsibility for the deportation of the Jewish population of Thessaloniki. Over 90% of the Jewish community, around 50,000 people, were deported to concentration camps and murdered.^[27] Merten was arrested in Greece in 1957 and was sentenced two years later – he was the only German to be held accountable in this context in Greek courts. However, under massive diplomatic pressure he was soon transferred to the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG), where he was not prosecuted and was able to continue his life and legal career. The case illustrates not only the failure of German justice in dealing with Nazi criminals, but also Greek political calculations: During economic negotiations with the FRG, Greece was apparently prepared to set aside justice for its own groups of victims.^[28] At the same time, the Merten case points to Greece’s structural failure to adequately address collaboration and responsibility. This story tells of various truths: of crimes committed by the German occupying forces against the Jewish civilian population, of the failure of German and Greek justice, of Greece’s political pragmatism in times of bilateral negotiations with the FRG, and of the lasting pain in the Jewish community of Thessaloniki and other victim communities in Greece. The lack of justice is therefore part of the historical truth. Admitting its absence remains the only form of belated recognition. Such developments demonstrate that the absence of justice does not mean the end of truth-seeking, but can instead become its object – particularly as the search for truth and associated efforts to achieve justice come in waves spanning generations.^[29] Truth without justice is unsatisfactory but must nevertheless be endured, even though this absence or incompleteness may cause distress to those affected.

When perpetrators remain silent, whether out of fear, loyalty or calculation, the fragility of truth becomes particularly evident. A tacit agreement comes about to avoid guilt, cover perpetrators, and stabilize the fragile social order. In such situations, silence becomes a historical fact; it is part of the truth because it actively shapes the image of the past. The case of Argentina during the military dictatorship (1976-‑1983), where a “pact of silence”^[30] existed within the armed forces, may serve as an example. The disappearance of thousands of people remained unaddressed for decades. After the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, it became clear how difficult it was to obtain statements from perpetrators, often due to fear of being stigmatized by their own group.^[31] In Indonesia, too, there has been hardly any public acknowledgement of guilt by perpetrators of the anti-communist massacres of 1965/66^[32], which led to a culture of denial.

Yet this collective silence becomes fragile as soon as individuals from the perpetrator group speak out and break the consensus of silence. In doing so they risk exclusion from their own community, social ostracization, and sometimes even their physical wellbeing. Those who admit the truth are often accused of being traitors by their own peers. At the same time, they are threatened by retaliation from former enemies, especially in settings where justice and protection are not guaranteed. This shows that truth can become a risk, making its disclosure more difficult. For precisely this reason, institutional safe spaces are needed that enable both; admitting crimes and protecting those who reveal them from certain consequences.

Conclusion and outlook

This article addresses the multidimensional nature of truth and truth-seeking in the context of violent conflicts. It demonstrates that truth is not a linear process and should not be reduced to the mere documentation of facts.

Still, facts are paramount. Benjamin Ferencz, chief prosecutor at the Nuremberg trials, explains in his memoirs^[33] how important it was to secure hard evidence, including lists of prisoners as well as the names of leading camp personnel and SS members in charge. On this basis, arrest warrants were issued to detain suspects. Securing facts was also fundamental for the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY).^[34] The collection and presentation of evidence, documents, witness statements and other facts is essential for fundamentally addressing injustice and acts of violence. It is more than criminal justice and judicial process; securing and presenting numerous facts makes it hard if not impossible to question and deny those facts. Thus, facts create the basis for the truth to be tracked, traced and secured, making relativization, revisionism and the use of “alternative facts” all the more difficult.

Truth based on hard facts forms the basis for a reconciliation process.^[35] A current example to note here is the investigations conducted by civil society institutions and the International Criminal Court into the abduction of children and other criminal acts during the war in Ukraine.^[36] Even if prosecution in the courts is not possible and justice cannot be served adequately, the work of national/international investigative authorities or civil society organizations may provide a basis for later research, criminal proceedings and/or negotiations on reparations. In this context, it is more than concerning that institutions such as the International Criminal Court are being undermined including by targeted disinformation, with the intention to remove a cornerstone for reasonable assessment and judgment.

The attempts at new approaches or reinterpretations show that truth is complex. It is a struggle for recognition, accountability, and trust. Truth must be enabled, witnessed, protected, and endured in its complexity and ambivalence. Its effect unfolds on different levels – personal, social, political, and symbolic. In this sense, truth is not a stable state, but an ongoing process. It is open, sometimes fragmented, and often contested. It follows that scientists and researchers must also strive for truth, point out its denial and, where possible, uncover it. Truth is always a mission. In the “interactive process of finding the truth”,^[37] the ideal of truth must not be abandoned, it must be pursued. It is highly problematic to instrumentalize perspectives, to reinterpret or even ignore the facts, and to relativize them in order to create “alternative truths”; in no way can this provide the foundation for justice or reconciliation. Interpretations must be made within a reasonable framework and on solid ground to properly engage with their reference points.

Transitional justice offers a framework for stabilizing a society and building trust. Mechanisms such as truth commissions, judicial processes, reparations, and structural reforms that build bridges within society aim to address past injustices and lay the foundations for a more just future. However, these instruments do not operate automatically and truth-seeking alone is not enough.

Truth can divide, retraumatize, or become an empty signifier if it remains without consequences. Truth without justice becomes disappointment; justice without recognition of truth remains a formal act; truth without recognition does not restore the victims’ dignity.

Without truth, a reconciliation process is impossible. Only in combination with justice, reparation, bridge-building, and institutional credibility can it unfold its full potential for a long and lasting peace.