Dear Friends

One of Field Marshall Montgomery’s biographers recounts that near the end of his long life, he had disturbing night episodes. On one occasion, his housekeeper was so concerned that she rang an old friend of his and asked him to visit and speak with the 88-year-old. The friend had been one of Montgomery’s battalion commanders in World War II and arrived as quickly as he could. Montgomery was dishevelled and distressed. His friend asked what the problem was. The reply: ‘I’ve got to go and meet God and explain all those men I killed at Alamein’.

For a man whose career and reputation had been based on success in military life and combat, it was a remarkable admission. History tells us that while Montgomery may have had his faults, he was a careful strategist, rather than a callous commander. He didn’t waste lives as World War I commanders did on the Western Front and as Hitler was doing at the same time on the Eastern Front. He risked lives and, in the end, sacrificed lives. But his men, whom he treated with respect and understanding, knew this.

So what happened? Why could Montgomery be morally comfortable with his actions for 34 years and then, late in life, feel this profound guilt? It may have always been there, or it may have developed as he had more time to reflect on his life. However, it certainly highlights that we are all shaped by our past, and that we can become captives of our past to the point of self-recrimination. It can also be true of nations. We’ve recently seen evidence of this in the protests in the United States, the demonstrations in Australia, the tearing down of colonial statues in England. Repercussions of past actions can easily break into our current lives.

At some point we as individuals, nations and as Church need to make peace with our past. You might remember the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) which Nelson Mandela established in 1995. Its mandate was to bear witness to, record, and in some cases grant amnesty to the perpetrators of crimes relating to human rights violations, as well as offering reparation and rehabilitation to the victims. A register of reconciliation was also established so that ordinary South Africans who wished to express regret for past failures could also express their remorse. The TRC was a creative strategy to help heal wounds created by the vicious Apartheid policy. It was a national experiment in restorative justice. While the memories of this period will never be erased, the anger and shame were ameliorated, and a degree of harmony restored. Over the last five years in Australia a number of Institutions have held Liturgies of Lament in an attempt to achieve the same end with regard to past sexual abuse of children.

We must attend to our past. Reconciliation is what is required: internal and external; personal and communal. Respectful listening is the key element, deep listening – to ourselves and to the stories of others, such as First Nations people or survivors of abuse. Knowledge and understanding are required and gained through this. Then there must be acknowledgement; an admission of failures and wrongs. Honest communication is essential. And to help ensure future harmony, there must also be a commitment to redress and reform.

Of course, there’s nothing magical or immediate about reconciliation. It’s a journey. In 1991, the Australian Government established the Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation. It marked an advance in reconciliation, certainly an acknowledgement, but the work continues today.

I’m not sure what Montgomery’s comrade said to him that night. I hope he listened carefully. I trust he didn’t attempt to sweep away the issue, because what the old Field Marshall was experiencing was nothing less than a cry from his soul. He probably didn’t have the benefit of a Confessor or the support of the Sacrament which we Catholics have. But in the depths of his being, he recognised there was a part of his past with which he needed to make peace. I hope he did. In the same way, I hope we have the opportunity and courage to come to terms with our past, our memories, our history.

Br Peter Carroll FMS,

President, Catholic Religious Australia