In today’s discourse surrounding the aftermath of September 11, 2001, the question of forgiveness often arises, particularly for those who endured unimaginable suffering at places like Guantanamo Bay.
For many years, survivors have been confronting the complexities of forgiveness, not just in personal terms, but as representatives of a larger community of victims.
One individual who was held in Guantanamo for nearly 15 years without charge speaks of the treatment endured and reflects on the heavy burden that forgiveness carries, especially when justice has never been served.
This individual describes being one of many innocent individuals wrongfully imprisoned as a result of the U.S. government’s global campaign for revenge and terror following the September 11 attacks.
These actions justified illegal invasions, widespread torture programs, and the establishment of Guantanamo as a site of dehumanization.
In a personal moment of defiance, the individual recalls opening a boxed meal to find the words “We Will Never Forget, We Will Never Forgive.”
Their response, written back in kind, was, “We Will Never Forget, We Will Never Forgive, We Will Fight For Our Justice.” This prompted punishment from the camp’s administration, reflecting the complex dynamics of power and resistance within the prison walls.
As the 24th anniversary of the September 11 attacks approaches, the phrase “Never Forget, Never Forgive” resurfaces with renewed intensity and implications.
While many see it as an expression of grief, it also signals a deeper inclination towards revenge rather than meaningful reflection on justice and accountability.
The speaker urges society to reconsider the implications of these words, emphasizing that true forgiveness must be rooted in justice and should not serve as an avenue for retreating from accountability.
In the context of widespread atrocities systemic to the so-called war on terror, including those committed at CIA black sites and Guantanamo, forgiveness cannot merely be treated as a personal act.
The harms inflicted span globally, affecting countless individuals and communities in nations like Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen, and Somalia.
The speaker emphasizes their unwillingness to declare forgiveness because such a declaration cannot hold meaningful weight without collective acknowledgment of the suffering caused.
True forgiveness should arise from a collective experience of those directly impacted rather than solely from individual choices, particularly when there has been no acknowledgment of wrongdoing by the perpetrators.
Some voices have emerged, claiming forgiveness for their experiences in Guantanamo, yet the speaker warns against simplifying forgiveness to a personal choice.
Individuals who seek to forgive, whether for fame or personal gain, may inadvertently betray the broader struggle for justice and healing.
The conversation raises significant questions: Who exactly is being forgiven? Are those who perpetrated the violence even acknowledging their actions?
What of the countless lives lost to drone strikes or the victims whose suffering remains unacknowledged?
Without addressing these questions, forgiveness risks absolving perpetrators and erasing the histories of those harmed.
This exploration of forgiveness reveals a troubling trend: the onus for healing seems disproportionately placed on the wronged.
The expectations laid upon survivors to extend forgiveness often serve the interests of the perpetrators, perpetuating a cycle of oppression.
As the U.S. continues to operate under the guise of promoting democracy and human rights, victims are told to be patient while enduring the consequences of actions taken in their name.
This moral double standard highlights who is recognized as human and who remains marginalized or forgotten.
The perception of U.S. military actions as necessary and strategic starkly contrasts with the portrayal of survivors demanding accountability, who are often labeled as bitter or vengeful.
Such hypocrisy is integral to the structures of oppression that underpin these actions.
Conversations about forgiveness cannot proceed until justice and reparations are meaningfully addressed.
To discuss forgiveness without acknowledging the need for accountability amounts to an attempt to whitewash past horrors and injustices committed.
Forgiveness must not be perceived as a simple act of goodwill; rather, it should be linked inextricably with justice.
Requiring forgiveness ahead of accountability serves only to suppress the truth and demand silence over memory.
This dynamic transforms the discourse around forgiveness into a mechanism of control over survivors, absolving the guilty while shaming victims.
Authentic forgiveness cannot be offered in the absence of a system that genuinely seeks to confront the injustices of the past.
The ongoing operations of Guantanamo demonstrate that the so-called war on terror remains alive and that no real accountability has been initiated by the U.S. government.
There is an urgent need for acknowledgment, compensation, and a sincere effort to make amends for the suffering endured.
How can we legitimately speak of forgiveness when contemporary actions echo past injustices?
Particularly concerning are the parallels drawn between the historical abuse at Guantanamo and current policies that have devastating effects on the Palestinian population.
The ethical failings that allowed institutions like Guantanamo to flourish are mirrored in the continued support for imperial actions that lead to civilian suffering.
Some atrocities, by their nature, resist the possibility of forgiveness.
In light of this, the refusal to forgive may not only be a personal journey but a principled stance against the systemic violence that continues to occur globally.
The narrative suggests that perhaps the most morally astute response to such immeasurable suffering is to adopt a stance of “Never forgive. Never forget.”
image source from：aljazeera
