THE REBURIAL of former President William R. Tolbert Jr. and thirteen of his top officials, executed in the aftermath of the 1980 coup d’état, was more than a moment of dignified national mourning.
IT WAS a rare gesture of historical reckoning in a country that has too often chosen silence over truth, euphemism over clarity, and avoidance over accountability.
FOR DECADES, the remains of these men lay in unmarked graves. Their families mourned quietly, their names left out of official history books, their memories held hostage by political convenience. The simple act of finally returning them to the earth with dignity was also a resounding statement that Liberia can no longer afford to forget.
PRESIDENT JOSEPH Boakai, who presided over the ceremony, called it an “act of national conscience.” In doing so, he struck a moral tone rarely heard in Liberian politics in recent years. It was not just a tribute to the dead, but a call to the living. A call to confront the buried traumas of the past, to stare directly into the unresolved pain of war and betrayal, and to finally ask: where do we go from here?
THIS QUESTION brings us to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, whose final report has gathered dust for over a decade. For all the words spoken about peace and unity, Liberia has yet to reckon meaningfully with the findings of this historic body.
WHILE THE TRC was a bold and difficult exercise in national soul-searching, its recommendations remain largely ignored. There has been no war crimes court. Few reparations have been issued. Many perpetrators of wartime atrocities continue to enjoy influence and power. As the country has moved forward, justice has been left behind.
THE CREATION of the TRC was an act of vision and bravery. It was one of the most comprehensive efforts in Africa to document the human cost of civil conflict, collecting thousands of testimonies and naming those responsible for war crimes, corruption, and crimes against humanity.
BUT ITS strength was also its weakness. The very clarity and comprehensiveness that gave the TRC its credibility made it politically radioactive. Implementing its recommendations meant confronting powerful men and entrenched interests. And so, instead of action, there was paralysis. Instead of justice, there was political compromise. Instead of healing, there was delay.
EACH ADMINISTRATION since the TRC report was released has found a reason to defer justice. Some feared it would destabilize the fragile peace. Others believed it would create divisions that could be politically costly. Still others simply lacked the courage to challenge the power structures that benefitted from impunity. The result is a country still burdened by the wounds of its past, where the ghosts of war roam freely, and where victims still await justice.
PRESIDENT BOAKAI now finds himself at a crossroads. He inherits a legacy of inaction. But he also inherits an opportunity to lead with principle. His words at the reburial ceremony suggest that he understands the moral weight of this moment.
HIS CHALLENGE now is to ensure that the symbolism of remembrance is matched by the substance of justice. The window for bold leadership is open. The question is whether he will step through it.
TRUE RECONCILIATION cannot happen without accountability. As many civil society leaders have repeatedly emphasized, justice is not about revenge. It is about truth. It is about restoring dignity to victims. It is about telling the next generation the full story of where this country has been and where it must never go again. Without this, there can be no lasting peace.
LIBERIA DOES not need vengeance. But it does need accountability. It needs legal mechanisms that demonstrate no one is above the law. It needs civic education to teach children the history that their textbooks often avoid. It needs national conversations that include survivors, perpetrators, and future leaders. It needs to establish a war and economic crimes court that is rooted in fairness and due process. It needs to repair, symbolically and materially, the damage done to communities shattered by conflict.
NONE of this will be easy.
MANY OF those implicated by the TRC report still occupy positions of power. There will be political resistance. There will be legal complications. There will be public debate. But the alternative is far worse. A nation that refuses to hold its past accountable remains a prisoner to it. A people that cannot name their pain cannot heal it.
MORE THAN sixty percent of Liberia’s population is under twenty-five years old. Most of them were born after the civil war. Their knowledge of the conflict comes from fragmented memories, family whispers, or nothing at all. If Liberia does not act now, a generation will come of age in ignorance of the very traumas that continue to shape their society.
THEY WILL not understand why justice feels so absent, why corruption seems so normal, or why impunity has become part of the national character. This is why education is so central to national healing. President Boakai must ensure that civic education includes not just the high points of national history, but the darkest chapters as well.
CRITICS OF the TRC’s implementation often argue that justice would disrupt peace. But history shows the opposite is true. Societies that avoid justice in the name of peace rarely achieve either. Peace without justice is fragile. It rests on a foundation of silence and denial. Justice, by contrast, is the beginning of true reconciliation. It sends a message that wrongs will be acknowledged, that victims matter, and that there are consequences for those who destroy.
PRESIDENT BOAKAI must reject the familiar excuses of the past. He must resist the temptation to delay. The political risks are real, but so are the moral stakes. Liberia cannot build a democratic future on a foundation of suppressed history. The culture of impunity must end.
THIS MOMENT can be the beginning of something new. The reburial of Tolbert and his officials should not be remembered as an isolated ceremony. It should be seen as the first act in a wider national awakening. Remembrance Park should not just be a place for the dead; it should be a place for the living to learn, reflect, and organize around a new national ethos grounded in justice and memory.
PRESIDENT BOAKAI stands at a rare intersection of history and leadership. He can choose to follow the path of hesitation and appeasement. Or he can write a new chapter in the country’s post-conflict journey, one defined by truth, accountability, and courage. The opportunity is in his hands, but so is the responsibility.
THE TRUTH and Reconciliation Commission was never meant to be an end in itself. It was a beginning. A roadmap. An invitation to do the hard work of rebuilding a country on the principles of justice and human dignity. That invitation still stands.
LIBERIA CANNOT change what happened in 1980. It cannot undo the destruction of the war years. But it can decide, today, how those chapters will be remembered and what lessons they will teach. It can finally honor the victims not just with words, but with actions.
CAN PRESIDENT Boakai deliver what past leaders wouldn’t? The answer to that question may very well define his presidency — and determine whether Liberia continues to live in the shadows of its past or steps into the light of a more just and honest future.
This is the Liberia we must now imagine. This is the Liberia we must now build —united in memory, determined in action, and grounded in justice.
