A light to end the darkness of impunity
The murder of Salwa Bugaighis ten years ago was an assault of the dreams of a just and democratic Libya, and a motivation for a global campaign to end impunity
The sound of the shots that killed Salwa Bugaighis still reverberate around the streets around her home in Benghazi.
Loud, booming blasts that were meant not only to silence her, but to hush all those who dreamt of a free and democratic Libya. In the weeks and years that followed, there were echoes every bit as loud. They could be heard as politician Fariha al-Berkawi was gunned down in Derna just weeks after Salwa, in the murder of activist Intisar al-Hasairi and her aunt in Tripoli. There were echoes as politician Seham Sergiwa was taken from the streets of Benghazi, never to be seen again.
Every time a Libyan politician or UN administrator cancels or postpones yet another planned election, I hear the sound of those bullets, like some terrible laughter in my head.
The gunmen who murdered Salwa and abducted her husband Essam on that day ten years ago did not just want to kill a woman, they wanted to kill the dream of what Libya could be.
That is why Salwa’s friends and colleagues began our campaign under the slogan that Justice for Salwa is Justice for All.
We knew that such terrible crimes could not go unpunished, that independent investigation, prosecution, and punishment needed to happen and be seen to happen for people to have confidence that Libya could achieve peace and stability.
In other words, a culture of impunity could not be allowed to take root if hope was to survive Salwa’s assassination.
In the years since, we have carried our message to the halls of power and international justice across the world, making Salwa’s case the first example of the murder of a woman human rights defender to be raised in the UN Security Council.
Ten years later, justice has not been served, and inevitably the dreams of a peaceful, democratic Libya feel as if they are no closer to being realised.
That is a testament to the sheer toxicity of impunity.
There is nothing so poisonous to the aspirations of a better society than impunity. When killers walk free, it is the innocent who live in fear. When a society cannot prosecute even the most egregious crimes, who would still have confidence in it? Who would stand up to defend or fight for such a status quo?
Impunity casts a shadow under which nothing can grow.
For decades, the people of Palestine have been forced to endure under just such a shadow. Long before the tanks rolled into Gaza, there have been countless cases just like Salwa, Fariha, and Intisar among the Palestinian people.
Where has the justice been for Shireen Abu Akleh, the journalist shot in the back of her head by an Israeli sniper as she reported from Jenin? What about Rouzan al-Najjar, wearing a white coat to identify herself as a volunteer first responder, shot as she tended to wounded protestors in Gaza?
Such murders and the terrorisation of the Palestinian people have never been matters of serious investigation for Israeli authorities, who have spent greater time and effort into smearing and assassinating the characters of women they have already murdered.
With the international community prepared to stand by - not simply in silence - but in loud support of the myriad crimes of occupation, it has long been left to Palestinian civil society to monitor and record the violations they have experienced. This they have done solemnly, thanklessly, for a seemingly endless string of victims, their duty to ensure the dead do not remain nameless, so that their families will one day see justice.
The hopes that Israel will - finally - face accountability have been bolstered by certain members of the international community and international justice mechanisms at last choosing to take action.
By taking Israel to the International Court of Justice, forcing the Israeli government to present its shallow and shameful justifications for the appalling crimes it has been committing against civilians, subjecting them to the scrutiny not of friendly diplomats and politicians but respected jurists, South Africa has done so much for the cause of international justice.
The decision by the prosecutor of the International Criminal Court to issue arrest warrants for Israel’s prime minister and defence minister for war crimes and crimes against humanity has further exposed the hollow claims of certain nations to support universal human rights, justice and accountability.
We have waited a long time for the mechanisms of international justice to finally print the visceral and shocking crimes committed against the people of Palestine in a prosecutor’s statement. It has come far too late, but it is meaningful to finally see in black and white a recognition that Israel has committed a “widespread and systematic attack against the Palestinian civilian population”, that it has used “starvation as a method of war and other acts of violence against the Gazan civilian population as a means to…collectively punish the civilian population of Gaza”.
For decades, Israel’s allies have resisted any attempt to hold it accountable. They have fostered the culture of impunity that Israel has enjoyed for so long, a culture that has led directly to it “intentionally and systematically depriv[ing] the civilian population in all parts of Gaza of objects indispensable to human survival”. It is no surprise now to see anger when a court treats Israel as accountable for its actions, when a prosecutor treats the people of Gaza as human beings with the attendant rights and dignity, rather than the “animals” the Israeli government condemns.
Because it is poison for a society, impunity is unsustainable. Justice protects all who protect justice; those who perpetrate injustice are forced by their actions to perpetuate injustice. That ultimately becomes intolerable for a society, and the world at large.
The slow moves to hold Israel accountable feel like the first rays of sunshine on a land starved of light under the shadow of impunity.
That light falls on too many faces already starved of life, too late to save or protect far too many people. But the actions of the international courts give me hope that the Palestinian people will see justice done, hope as well that Salwa and her family will too see justice.
While impunity casts a pall of darkness, justice acts like a beacon. It is a message that crimes will not be tolerated, that a just society is possible, that we can hope for better. That is why justice for Palestine and justice for Salwa will be justice for all.