The reconciliation process in Rwanda - where no one claims the violence was anything other than wrong - can teach us a salutary lesson, writes Rev Earl Storey.
When everyone is somebody then no one is anybody. Whoever first uttered these words put their finger on something. They described a culture that lowers the bar so much on human achievement that you have to do very little to be a somebody. In "Big Brother house" culture the value of achievement is cheapened.
Apply the same sentiment to the Troubles. If everyone is a victim then no one is a victim. Something perverse has happened. How is it that in a community where so many people have had their lives immeasurably damaged by violence that somehow their pain gets lost in the eyes of the rest of us? In a community where the politics of victimhood has been turned into an art-form, why is it that the trauma and loss of thousands is in danger of becoming invisible?
We have had two marches concerning the past, coming from very different perspectives. The organisers of neither would like to see those events equated. I suggest that for very different reasons neither contributed much to the cause of victims. But coming from two different places there are important things to be learned about dealing with the past.
What was most interesting about the March for Truth rally held in Belfast , and organised by Sinn Féin? Its lack of impact. The front pages of most newspapers ignored it. In terms of media coverage it hardly featured. So does the fact that news discussion boiled down to whether it was 1,500 or 6,000 at the rally. Whatever the case the numbers tell their own story
But why so little impact? The tactics and tenor of the event seemed to be those of a bygone era. They simply jarred with where our community on all sides is at now. There will also have been a very logical question in the mind of the public. How much of this event was designed for internal purposes - to steady those in the ranks of the republican movement who may wonder at the cost of the struggle?
Even the most basic look at statistics posed another question. We are talking of the numbers of lives taken in the Troubles by different groupings. What are those who organised this event planning to bring to a process of truth-telling? A question deserving of an unambiguous answer.
The Love Ulster March, as planned for February 2006, had a simple message. It was to be about the suffering of victims of the Troubles. That message was lost. It was not just the smoke in O'Connell Street that Saturday afternoon that obscured it. It was lost because the simplicity of the message was lost.
If the event was to be the first of its kind in Dublin and was to be about suffering, what did flags, bands and loyal orders have to do with it? That made the march about something else as well - about cultural and political expression. The purpose of that particular event became something else and so the voice of victims was lost.
On this island we need to come to terms with 30 years of violence that took many lives and blighted others. The fear of unravelling a political peace still in its infancy makes us wary of dealing with the past. Yet there are few of us that believe it is right to just walk away from it as though it never happened. To do this would be to compound the pain of so many. It would also leave dangerous seeds for our future. So what are we to do?
The answer begins with what we are not to do. The prominent Ulster historian ATQ Stewart reminds us of a dangerous temptation in these parts - for the past to be "a convenient quarry which provides ammunition to use against enemies in the present". Pain is not a political commodity.
Much is made of what the peace process on this island has to teach others. In humility there is a difficult lesson we might learn from others. A visit to Rwanda three years ago was life-changing. I stood in the compounds of a church where 25,000 people were murdered - a scene vividly described by Fergal Keane. In the space of 100 days almost one million people lost their lives in ethnic violence.
Rwanda has made incredible strides towards reconciliation since that genocide in 1994. I took away one lesson above all others, one thing that is key to Rwanda's future. In the process of reconciliation no one in that country tries to describe the violence that took place as anything other than wrong. There is no attempt to defend the indefensible.
When a difficult problem arises in our community the cry often goes up for more resources - for money, reports and commissions. We have vastly more economic resources available to us than Rwanda . At times it feels that we try and buy our way into peace.
Yet there is one thing that money cannot buy - moral stature - the courage to say that murder and violence was wrong and, where we were responsible for any of it, that we were wrong. Looking at the past is not a morality-free zone. Otherwise it becomes a vacuous exercise for an audience other than for the victims of all sides.
Rev Storey is director of the Church of Ireland Hard Gospel Project