Violent crises do not have to be referred to as ¡°genocide¡± for them to deserve our attention.
In my work with victim groups, governments and policymakers, I often share the above phrase to encourage those who are engaged in a long and arduous fight for justice and recognition.
The most urgent concern I have heard expressed by victim and survivor groups is that, when compared to genocide, their experiences of violence will always be deemed less important. They will only be taken seriously by international actors if the violent events are recognized as genocide. When navigating these challenges, victim groups, policymakers and national Governments alike seek guidance about how and when a crisis can be labelled a genocide, and by whom and via what formal mechanisms.
When advising these groups, I provide honest and candid responses, considering foremost the needs of direct victims who seek justice, meaning, recognition and assistance after being subjected to heinous abuses. For many such groups, their specific case would not legally qualify as genocide under the definition set forth by the
Still, violent crises do not have to be referred to as ¡°genocide¡± for them to deserve our attention.
In this article, I focus on three main points that guide my analysis, which is intended to clarify and make sense of significant debates, challenges and questions about genocide writ large.
First, genocide has both legal and sociological definitions.
Second, in international law, genocide is not considered ¡°worse¡± than war crimes or crimes against humanity.
Third, advocates, representatives of victim and survivor groups, and policymakers can all be better advised to focus on preventing genocide and atrocity crimes, irrespective of how they are defined.
Returning to the example above, understanding crime categories as a diagnostic tool can help accurately explain different patterns of violence without imbuing the term ¡°genocide¡± with additional salience.
Despite a lack of conclusive evidence and agreement among researchers,1 victim and survivor communities often advocate for their cases to be legally classified as genocide, expecting, perhaps, that their case must be called ¡°genocide¡± to gain global attention; access to funds and other resources; and the establishment of international courts, truth commissions and reparations programmes. Distinguishing between patterns of violence, however, is not meant to create a hierarchy of lesser and worse crimes.
Genocide has both legal and sociological definitions, each applicable in different cases.
On 9 December 1948, the 51³Ô¹Ï General Assembly adopted resolution 260 A (III), establishing the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. Often referred to as the 51³Ô¹Ï Genocide Convention or UNGC, the resolution codified and defined genocide as a specific crime, punishable under international law.
The term ¡°genocide¡±, a Polish lawyer and Holocaust survivor, is a combination of the Greek word genos, meaning ¡°race or tribe¡±, and the Latin suffix -cide, meaning ¡°killing¡±. The process of establishing the 1948 Convention was highly fraught.2 It required significant compromises from 51³Ô¹Ï Member States to be realized. Such compromises included limiting the protected groups and leaving out acts of cultural genocide, or the destruction of sacred places such as houses of worship, grave sites and heritage sites as a means of destroying a group.
Based on my analysis of relevant scholarship, two main critiques continue to be at the forefront of discussions. First, many deem its definition of protected groups (national, ethnical, racial or religious) too narrow, excluding many groups that ought to be protected, such as those centred on gender identity, sexual preference and political orientation, and indigenous populations. Second, in many cases of violent conflict, , which is requisite for an act of violence to be considered an act of genocide as defined by international law. Arguably, these limitations make the Convention on Genocide less applicable to current conflicts.
In response to limitations of the Convention, in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s, scholars such as Helen Fein, Barbara Harff, Ted Gurr and Frank Chalk, among others, developed sociological definitions of genocide. In her seminal 1990 text, Genocide: A Sociological Perspective, Fein states that ¡°Genocide is sustained purposeful action by a perpetrator to physically destroy a collectivity directly or indirectly, through interdiction of the biological and social reproduction of group members, sustained regardless of the surrender or lack of threat offered by the victim.¡±3
Definitions like Fein¡¯s are broader in nature and can be considered as more applicable to contemporary and complex violent conflicts. Sociological definitions provide new ways of understanding genocide. They do not replace the legal definition; rather, each definition serves a different purpose.
On 17 July 1998, the adopted the 1948 definition of genocide and established legal definitions for the extraordinary crime categories punishable by international law: war crimes and crimes against humanity. Debates about genocide expanded to include questions about the use, applicability and moral implications of all three crime categories.
In international law, genocide is not worse than war crimes or crimes against humanity.
Given the exponential increase in the prevalence and complexity of violent conflict, war crimes, crimes against humanity and potential cases of genocide across the globe, many advocacy groups apply the term genocide hoping to garner support, attention and resources.
Such efforts are arguably rooted in a false assumption that genocide is the ¡°crime of crimes¡±,4 and therefore more deserving of attention and intervention. Under this problematic framework, genocide becomes the ultimate crime, sitting at the top of a hierarchical pyramid. As a result, other atrocities sit beneath genocide in the pyramid. They are therefore viewed as less significant. Within this paradigm, victims feel the need to compare their experiences to legally established genocides such as the Holocaust, the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda and the 1995 genocide in Srebrenica, to establish legitimacy.
Yet war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide are not hierarchical. Legally defined, each crime category is unique, and none are meant to have primacy or stand out as worse than the others. Both legally and sociologically, all extraordinary acts of violence are terrible, regardless of the crime category used to describe victims¡¯ experiences. Viewing violent events in this way provides more possible answers to the question of how and when a crisis can be labelled a genocide, and by whom and via what formal mechanisms.
Advocates, representatives of victim and survivor groups, and policymakers could be better advised to focus on preventing genocide and atrocity crimes, irrespective of how they are defined, without imbuing the term ¡°genocide¡± with additional salience.
I consider the use of legal definitions and crime categories as a type of diagnostic tool. The categories of war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide help us understand the patterns of violence and the political, economic and social factors that lead to such crimes, and help contextualize and understand risk factors. But for victims and survivors, the harms they suffered and the lasting impacts of the violence to which they were subjected feel just as serious, regardless of the legal definition or crime category applied. It is essential to draw distinction between when, how and why legal definitions and categories are useful, and when they are not.
Informed responses to challenges of defining genocide
Currently, the global community is experiencing an increase in the propensity of extraordinary crimes. Conflicts are changing and becoming more complex. Protracted crises remain unresolved. The spread of misinformation on social media is causing hate speech and polarization to spike, making it harder for communities to come together to address crises that are unfolding in real time.
As violent conflict and debates about genocide rage on, communities should respond to cases of mass violence and potential genocides from an informed and intentional perspective. Decision makers can be better equipped to evaluate situations if they apply specific and deliberate use of the terms ¡°war crimes¡±, ¡°crimes against humanity¡± and ¡°genocide¡±, which includes recognizing their limitations.
In the aftermath of violent events, such as the , victim and survivor communities seek acknowledgment, justice, reparations and support, and to find a sense of meaning to re-establish trust that the post-atrocity State and society will protect them from future harms. My research shows that victims consider such responses as necessary to remedy physical, economic and social harms done to them, and to restore human dignity and trust.5 To reach this goal more effectively, practitioners should shift the narrative from genocide being considered as worse than other crimes, to considering these crime categories as different, yet of equal importance and impact to victims and survivors, and to the broader international community.
Conclusion
Assuming that genocide is the ¡°crime of crimes¡± means that any other violent events are treated as lesser crimes. Consequentially, if genocide continues to be elevated as such, other crimes may not be regarded with the seriousness they deserve. If continued, this cycle could result in normative claims that some categories of victimhood are less important than others, reinforcing the necessity of competition among victims to have their cases legally defined as a genocide to meet their needs. Comparing experiences of victimhood, however, is always a losing game.
Among many adages about hierarchies of suffering, American author and psychotherapist shares the following statement: ¡°There¡¯s no hierarchy of pain. Suffering shouldn¡¯t be ranked, because pain is not a contest.¡± Gottlieb¡¯s perspective invites responsible practice when debating, defining and talking about the sensitive global topic of genocide. For practitioners, lawyers, researchers and any concerned global citizens who truly want to help reduce violent conflict and increase understanding across divided groups, Gottlieb¡¯s words serve as an essential guide for our work. ¡°Pain is not a contest¡±. Victimhood is not a zero-sum game. And crimes of genocide should not matter more or less than crimes against humanity and war crimes.
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Notes?
1 For more information, see Benjamin A. Valentino and Ethan M. Weinberg, ¡°More than words? ¡®Genocide,¡¯ Holocaust analogies, and public opinion in the United States¡±, Journal of Human Rights, vol. 16, No. 3 (2017), pp. 276¨C292; Scott Straus, ¡°Contested meanings and conflicting imperatives: A conceptual analysis of genocide¡±, Journal of Genocide Research, vol. 3, No. 3 (2001), pp. 349¨C375; and Martin Mennecke, ¡°What's in a Name? Reflections on Using, Not Using, and Overusing the ¡®G-Word¡¯¡±, Genocide Studies and Prevention, vol. 2, No. 1 (2007), pp. 57¨C71.
2 Raphael Lemkin, Axis Rule in Occupied Europe: Laws of Occupation, Analysis of Government, Proposals for Redress (Clark, New Jersey: The Lawbook Exchange, Ltd., 2008).
3 Helen Fein, ¡°Genocide: A Sociological Perspective¡±, Current Sociology, vol. 38, No. 1 (1990), p. 24.
4 In the final judgement of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda in the case , genocide was described as ¡°the crime of crimes¡±.
5 Samantha Lakin, ¡°Memory and Victimhood in Post-Genocide Rwanda: Legal, Political, and Social Realities¡±, in Narratives of Mass Atrocity: Victims and Perpetrators in the Aftermath, Sarah Federman and Ronald Niezen, eds. (Cambridge University Press, 2022), pp. 201-221. Available at .
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