Early iterations of restorative justice in the context of the armed conflict took place before the ceasefire under highly sensitive and controlled conditions. Encounters that followed a victim-offender mediation model between ETA prisoners who had renounced the violence of the armed struggle and victims came to be known as the ‘Nanclares way’. Although these meetings were meticulously prepared by expert professionals, they were also rather informal, where the need for extreme discretion meant that knowledge of the programme’s existence was confined to a small group of individuals operating on the basis of trust. However, once this programme eventually became known to the public, it became the subject of heightened debate, despite having the public support of participating victims. In 2012, the programme was brought to an end by the government at the time. Yet the Nanclares project remains one of the most pioneering and powerful experiences of restorative justice in the context of political violence and continues to inspire a range of subsequent restorative encounters in the Basque context and beyond.
At a parallel moment, the Glencree initiative was also taking place. Between 2007 and 2012, a group of around 30 victims of ETA, the GAL, and the Basque Spanish Battalion met at the Glencree Centre in Ireland. This project brought together victims of different groups active during the armed conflict in restorative circles, in mutual recognition of their different experiences of suffering.
In the years since, developments have simultaneously expanded the types of restorative practices and methodologies in place and extended participation beyond direct victims and perpetrators of violence, to members of the wider Basque community. One such project, the MemoriaLab[7], invited Basque citizens to share their personal experiences of the impact of political violence, and to engage in the social construction of shared memory. Amongst the project’s creative approaches to facilitating dialogue was the inclusion of the ‘time spiral’ concept, where participants were encouraged to think of their experiences not only in a chronological timeline, but to conceptualise how events of the past, present and future are intricately intertwined and continue to shape each other[8].
These programmes have not been without their persistent challenges. In a culture shaped by the legacy of the Amnesty Law, restorative justice has, at times, been publicly conflated with the idea of impunity, and the misconception that restorative justice is a ‘softer’ approach to crime remains quite prevalent. This is, however, based on a profound misunderstanding. Restorative justice is not designed to impact the sentencing outcomes of offenders, but rather to emphasise accountability and the recognition of harm. It seeks to empower victims whilst naming and working to address the widespread societal impact of violent crime. In the Basque case, restorative practices have provided victims and communities with vital tools to confront the legacy of decades of violence.
Furthermore, where the concept of reconciliation remains a polarising notion in the Spanish political sphere, peace and coexistence projects (especially those based on restorative justice principles) often become the subject of debate in times of political volatility. This has created an ongoing need for projects that take a restorative justice approach to remain particularly discrete and localised so as to prioritise the social and emotional wellbeing of participants. Whilst there are some benefits to this—for example, most local mediators have intricate knowledge of the contexts in which they work—it also significantly restricts the scope of these programmes. Currently, participation in these projects can only be offered to a small proportion of Basque society.