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This chapter focuses on a small and distinctive Dissenting sect, the Religious Society of Friends, or Quakers, whose contribution to philanthropy and social reform since the early modern period has often exceeded their modest numbers. It aims to explore the relationship between Quaker business endeavour and philanthropic behaviour, to assess the impact of theological and social change on Friends in the later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and to disentangle the different motivations for participation in organised philanthropy that operated within the denomination during a key period in its history. In a landmark study of Quakerism published in 2001, Thomas C. Kennedy described ‘the transformation of a religious community’ between 1860 and 1920, when the ‘new Quakerism’ grew in influence and authority within the Society of Friends. Kennedy has shown that the ending of the nineteenth century saw a Quaker ‘renaissance’ that reflected a transformation in social and religious thought among younger Friends in particular, and that reshaped their participation in public life. One of the key figures in the Quaker renaissance was John Wilhelm Rowntree (1868–1905), who exercised a significant intellectual and personal influence, both during his life and following his premature death. He was the eldest son of a prominent Quaker businessman and philanthropist, Joseph Rowntree (1836–1925), and it is the philanthropic activities of the Rowntree family that form the main topic of this chapter, which itself draws on a considerable body of earlier work. The establishment and early operation of the three trusts established by Joseph Rowntree in 1904 – the Joseph Rowntree Charitable Trust (JRCT), the Joseph Rowntree Social Service Trust (JRSST) and the Joseph Rowntree Village Trust (JRVT) – are a useful case study of the complex influences on the practice of Quaker philanthropy in this period.
Rowntree's three trusts – alongside similar trusts established by the Cadbury family, who influenced the Rowntrees in a number of ways – have been seen as marking a significant development in organised philanthropy, and they certainly exercised a powerful local and regional influence, through the provision of housing, the publication of newspapers, the funding of social research and the support of educational and other projects. This chapter makes three inter-related arguments.
As we have noted, the challenge of negotiating peace with justice extends far beyond – and has more to do with – the intrinsic constraints of negotiation than those of transitional justice. Put simply, one cannot reach a proper understanding of the bandwidth for negotiating transitional justice if the analytic starting point is something other than the fact of negotiation.
As we have argued, without understanding what makes negotiations difficult in general, one cannot understand what makes peace negotiations difficult in particular. Likewise, without understanding what makes peace negotiations difficult, one cannot understand what makes negotiating transitional justice an especially difficult component thereof.
While negotiating peace with justice requires the skills of an artist, some science is nevertheless involved. Part I demonstrated how that is so. First, we examined what makes ensuring justice for atrocity crimes more difficult, both normatively and practically, than for other crimes. Three imaginary country situations were presented: one in which there is neither negotiation nor transition out of war; one in which there is transition without negotiation; and one in which there is negotiation without transition. We explained how and why the latter presents the greatest structural constraints of all, in terms of ensuring justice.
The term ‘atrocity crime’, as used here, refers to the international crimes of genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes – and could reasonably be extended to include gross human rights violations. Such crimes destroy human dignity, life, or both, and on levels that are usually irreparable. That is because no amount of justice against the perpetrator of such crimes, and no amount of reparation in favour of the victim, can be adequate to redress the harm caused. Morally speaking, every remedy is second best. Restoring the status quo ante is not an option.
In June 2014, before the negotiations in Havana on Point 5 (‘Victims’) of the 2012 General Agreement began in earnest – and thus before Mark Freeman and Iván Orozco formally began their work as independent advisers to the government’s negotiation team – important conversations and decisions regarding victims had already occurred.
Several years into the implementation of Colombia’s 2016 peace agreement, the country is experiencing scores of complications in the application of post-conflict justice mechanisms and much else. No negotiation could have anticipated all, or even most, of these complications. Negotiation and implementation are iterative processes by their very nature. Yet, with the benefit of hindsight, there are some important lessons that are worth summarising – some of which could make a difference in the country’s future, or indeed that of others.
To understand the nature of the Havana talks, a brief description of the context is owed – albeit with three caveats. First, the explanatory factors we outline below had both convergent and divergent effects. In some cases, they reinforced each other; in others, they gave rise to tensions that plagued the entire negotiation. Second, the relationship between context and activity is analogous to that of fabric and embroidery; context is not an external force but something that is interwoven into the many threads of the story. Third, the parties conducted the talks under the figment of sitting as equals at the table; this too had a direct effect in shaping the trajectory and outcomes of the negotiation.
The recent Colombian peace negotiations took the art and science of negotiating transitional justice to unprecedented levels of complexity. For decades, the Colombian government fought a bitter insurgency war against FARC guerrilla forces. After protracted negotiations, the two parties reached a peace deal that took account of the rights of victims. As first-hand participants in the talks, and principal advisers to the Colombia government, Mark Freeman and Iván Orozco offer a unique account of the mechanics through which accountability issues were addressed. Drawing from this case study and other global experiences, Freeman and Orozco offer a comprehensive theoretical and practical conception of what makes the 'devil's dilemma' of negotiating peace with justice implausible but feasible.