I remember well the first time we talked about moving to Bermuda. My husband and I were having dinner in a South Carolina restaurant when his soon-to-be boss told us about the island. ãThe water is the colour of your dress,ä he said. ( It was one of my favourites, a rich blue green). ãAnd it is so quiet at night that all one hears is the breeze and the tree frogs. Itâs dark and still. Little happens at night.ä
That was late 1989. We came here in January, 1990, and we found all of the above to be true.
Recently thereâs been much debate over the U.S. State Departmentâs ãtravel advisoryä on Bermuda. If you check the site youâll find just about every country in the world listed. Nowhere is perfect.
However, as a friend of mine recently said to me, ãA murder can happen. Itâs how you handle it that really shows the character of a country. Itâs the thinking of the people and their will.ä
Meanwhile, itâs no longer quiet at night. You can often hear sirens above the breezes and the tree frogs. And our streets contain young people, appearing to be as young as 11 or 12, up to mature adults, seeming to have no place to go.
But we must keep things in perspective. No, we are not a lawless community, but the reality is that violent crime has increased and police wish to be armed. Frankly I donât blame them, even though Iâm a strong opponent of guns. But Iâd rather a gun be in the hands of a police officer than in the hands of a wrongdoer. And I support the right of the police officer to defend him or herself.
Moreover, how many murders have we had during the last decade or more that have either been ãunsolvedä or owing to technicalities no one has been convicted in the deaths? Too many, I suggest, for such a small community. And whoâs accountable?
According to principles of the United Nations, not only do people have a right to know about the background of systematic violations of human rights (of which murder and other crimes certainly are examples), but there is also a ãduty to rememberä on the part of the state.
Moreover, the UN doctrine suggests, the families of victims have what is described as ãan imprescriptible rightä to know the truth.
Nobody, it seems, advocates deliberate forgetting or amnesia ÷ except those who have the most to hide.
If we, as individuals who are a part of a community, donât resent increases in crime, it would appear that we condone it. It is resentment or anger that persuades us to act against cruelty and injustice. The danger in forgiving too rapidly, some suggest, although superficially quite admirable, is in fact weakening, rather than enhancing, human dignity.
MoreoveR, holding its citizens accountable, whether it be for violent or those so-called ãwhite collarä crimes, affirms a moral community ÷ a social ritual that binds such a community together.
Punishment asserts that the wrongdoer is a member of the community and subject to its rules. Moreover, punishment can be for the criminalâs benefit ÷ although Iâd suggest that few criminals would agree.
In my opinion, we owe it to every misbehaving individual to treat him or her as someone who can be brought to reform· and to keep trying, however vainly, to reach his capacity for moral understanding and concern.
Failure to act makes one a party to the wrong because one has the duty to prevent the wrong, had the power to do so, and nonetheless decided not to act. Yes, doing nothing is a decision.
* Carol Shuman, Ph.D., is a Bermuda-based psychologist and author. She can be reached at drcshuman@datkin.net