Emile Noel Post-Doctoral Research Fellow, Jean Monnet Center, NYU School of Law; Junior Lecturer in International Law and Public Law, Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne University.
Addressing transitional justice through the executive branch of government is quite unusual. Although transitional justice has been extensively studied over the past forty years, scholarly attention has focused primarily on judicial bodies and quasi-judicial mechanisms, such as international or domestic tribunals, Truth and Reconciliation Commissions, and local forms of justice, particularly those developed in African contexts.
This does not mean that political organs are excluded from scholarship on transitional justice; rather, they tend to appear only indirectly or incidentally, for example, in discussions of clemency mechanisms such as amnesties, pardons, and statutes of limitations. Moreover, the intervention of the executive branch is rarely portrayed as positive or constructive from the perspective of victims, or more broadly, of society. As a result, the discussion is often marked by a certain negative bias. However, this is not the focus of Ruti Teitel’s book.
Instead, Ruti Teitel offers a detailed and well-substantiated account of the real or supposed positive roles played by presidents in transitional justice, as illustrated by the use of conciliatory gestures throughout U.S. history, with the ambition of “explor[ing] the continuities and differences in presidential visions of transitional justice,” as she notes in her introduction.[1] Numerous presidents have indeed sought to “do right in the context of transition,”[2] that is, to establish peace or reestablish foreign relations without entirely sacrificing the demands of justice. This objective may be pursued through a range of constitutional mechanisms largely vested in presidential authority within the U.S. constitutional framework, including executive orders, pardons, the negotiation and conclusion of international treaties, the conduct of foreign relations, and public speeches with an important transformative potential.
These constitutional mechanisms form the backdrop of the book. However, my piece does not attempt to address them in their entirety. Instead, it focuses on a specific category of presidential action: public speeches and collective expressions of remembrance, which may be described as “apologetic gestures,” although they rarely involve formal apologies. These practices are examined in Chapters 1 and 6—the former devoted to Barack Obama’s worldwide trip in 2016 at the end of his second term, often labelled as an “apology tour” by the conservative camp, and the latter addressing presidential apologies in a more general context.
I am particularly interested in these gestures because they have been the subject of significant debate in France, my home country. Questions relating to the memory of colonization and the Algerian War have long constituted sensitive and divisive political issues, and they regularly resurface in public debate. These issues have been particularly prominent over the past decade.
They first came to the forefront in 2017 during the presidential campaign, when then-candidate Emmanuel Macron adopted positions on these questions that were both unusually explicit and comparatively progressive, notably when he described colonization as a crime against humanity during a visit to Algiers.[3] They resurfaced again when, as President, he initiated a “process of reconciliation of memories” between France and Algeria and made public the report he had commissioned from historian Benjamin Stora.[4]
Since taking office, Macron has also repeatedly acknowledged France’s responsibility in relation to episodes of civil violence, mass atrocities committed by state authorities, and events connected to the colonial past. In this respect, his approach marks a significant departure from that of his predecessors. He went so far as to ask forgiveness from the Harki community—those Algerian auxiliaries who remained loyal to France during the Algerian War and who suffered a tragic fate after Algerian independence: many of those who remained in Algeria were subjected to reprisals, while those who relocated to France were abandoned by public authorities, confined to camps, and forced to live in degrading conditions. Such a request for forgiveness by a head of state is highly unusual, as this type of gesture is typically associated with a personal and intimate register.
This orientation appears to reflect a personal engagement with historical questions and a particular sensitivity to issues of memory—an interest he developed early in his career, notably through his intellectual collaboration with René Girard.
The parallel with Barack Obama, which serves as the starting point of Ruti Teitel’s project, appears particularly relevant. Both presidents placed the question of memory for past abuses at the forefront of their political agendas, and their gestures seem to have reflected a genuine commitment to acknowledging historical wrongs. This is not to suggest that such actions were devoid of strategic considerations, but rather that both leaders appear to have sought, in good faith, to address the past, express remorse, and reset relationships with the affected countries. Both presidents also faced political backlash from opposition parties for their apologetic speeches and were exposed to extremely harsh criticism, mostly from conservative groups.
In this respect, they provide two significant examples of unconstrained public expressions of remorse. These unconstrained gestures and discourses must be distinguished from two neighboring forms, which may be described as “provoked,” in the sense that they follow from a prior event: (1) expressions of remorse made in the course of judicial proceedings, often in exchange for a procedural or sentencing benefit; and (2) expressions of remorse issued in response to a judicial decision. In the first case, the sincerity of the gesture is open to doubt, as the expression of remorse may be motivated primarily by the prospect of advantage. In the second case, sincerity is difficult to assess because the gesture is prompted by an external legal obligation.
This situation arises relatively frequently in international law and more rarely in domestic contexts. Even then, compliance is not automatic, as international courts lack direct enforcement powers and depend largely on the good faith of states. A well-known example is the first Genocide case before the ICJ, in which Bosnia and Herzegovina requested that Serbia issue an apology for the Srebrenica massacre. It did not obtain one, as the Court only found Serbia indirectly responsible for failing to prevent the massacre and for failing to prosecute the perpetrators.[5]
More recently, in September 2025, Colombian President Gustavo Petro apologized to the members of the Unión Patriótica, a political party that had been systematically targeted by state and paramilitary violence. This gesture followed a decision of the Inter-American Court of Human Rights three years earlier, which had ordered the Colombian authorities to acknowledge their responsibility as a measure of reparation, but not formally to request forgiveness—courts generally refrain from going that far.[6]
Whether unconstrained or provoked, such public gestures are difficult to interpret. They may reflect political calculation—for example, an effort to appeal to a particular segment of the electorate—or, alternatively, a sincere endorsement of a judicial decision, or at least a recognition of its normative importance, which are not quite the same. The gestures of Barack Obama and Emmanuel Macron clearly fall within the unconstrained category. However, it is useful to situate them within this broader analytical framework.
In Chapter 1, Ruti Teitel provides a detailed account of Barack Obama’s 2016 trip to the Caribbean (Cuba), South America (Argentina), and Southeast Asia (Japan, Vietnam, and Laos). She recontextualizes each visit through a brief overview that combines historical background with an assessment of the contemporary political context. In doing so, she identifies the factors that help explain how and why a reset in diplomatic relations may become possible. In Argentina, for example, the establishment of a renewed and privileged relationship with the United States was facilitated by political alternation: the election of Mauricio Macri in 2015, who took office after almost uninterrupted Peronist rule since the return to democracy in the 1980s.
Ruti Teitel also analyzes Obama’s speeches and their transformative potential, identifies their shared structure, and highlights their strategic dimension, particularly from an economic perspective. Her analysis shows that these gestures were consistently accompanied by diplomatic and economic measures, such as the lifting of sanctions, the conclusion of bilateral investment agreements, and the negotiation of trade arrangements. However, it remains unclear whether these measures are mentioned merely as contextual elements or rather to underscore their potential trade-off dimension.
This dimension does not fundamentally undermine the overall significance of the gestures. As Ruti Teitel rightly observes, the prospect of renewed economic relations and the promise of increased trade may itself be understood as a form of reparative justice, although the overall impact of such measures and their concrete implications for citizens’ lives would still need to be assessed. It nonetheless brings to the forefront an important point: gestures of this kind are rarely entirely gratuitous or wholly detached from strategic considerations.
Barack Obama’s gestures were neither unexpected nor unusual. They were preceded by earlier initiatives during his presidency that helped shape what might be described as a broader policy of historical acknowledgment. In 2009, at the beginning of his first term, he delivered the “New Beginning” speech in Cairo, which expressed remorse for actions taken against Muslims in the aftermath of 9/11 and set the tone for his administration’s diplomatic approach. In 2014—two years before his visit to Cuba—he also issued an executive order easing certain economic restrictions after Congress failed to lift the decades-old trade embargo.
More broadly, Teitel situates Obama’s actions within a much longer historical tradition of U.S. presidents using the powers vested in them by the Constitution to “end inter-state conflicts, including through law and arbitration; to ensure accountability for breaches of the peace that have extraterritorial effects; and to mend fraught relationships with other countries.”[7] One might further observe that the United States itself was built through particularly violent processes—an observation that could, admittedly, be extended to many countries—and its constitutional framework grants significant powers to the President, powers that have expanded considerably over time.
This combination of history and institutional design provides a context especially conducive to presidential intervention. As she rightly notes, this type of presidential intervention is consistent with what is often described as the traditional—or “original,” although I remain cautious about the use of that term in the U.S. context—conception of the presidency as that of a proactive leader, particularly in times of war or other crises. Hence, the broad authority to grant pardons, conduct military operations, negotiate with foreign states, and conclude treaties.
This central position of the President also has electoral reasons: the President is elected by the people, which gives him “an extraordinary power to speak to his fellow citizens and on their behalf.”[8]
In Chapter 6, Ruti Teitel returns to Barack Obama but expands the scope of her analysis, both nationally and internationally. She first identifies a trend among U.S. presidents to acknowledge responsibility and express remorse—a tendency inaugurated by Bill Clinton and later followed by George W. Bush—and explains how it operates in practice. She then situates Obama within a much broader international context: that of the proliferation of public scenes of contrition by heads of state, religious leaders, and representatives of international organizations, a development that has led many scholars, particularly in political science, to characterize the period as the “age of apology.”[9]
Her account is not merely descriptive. It is also analytical, for example, in grounding the discussion in the historical conception of the head of state’s role and offering a compelling account of the monarch’s function and symbolic dimension. There is something akin to the expressive function of law here, insofar as it demonstrates that a gesture or a speech—like the power of pardon, moreover—can resemble a form of justice, which is not self-evident. The discussion is fascinating and has the great merit of prompting us to reconsider, or revisit, a set of principles that one might otherwise have regarded as settled.
Finally, the work is normative as well, reflecting a highly personal and convincing conception of the role of heads of state. This is a truly comprehensive study, whose historical precision, analytical scope, and richness of argument merit particular recognition.
In sum, I share Ruti Teitel’s view that Barack Obama’s initiatives constitute a “remarkable example of presidential action as a driver of political transformation” and, more broadly, that heads of state should play an active role in transitional justice. At the same time, a more nuanced assessment of the memorial legacy of his presidency is warranted. Although he acknowledged responsibility for past wrongs, he stopped short of offering explicit apologies. This caution undoubtedly reflected domestic political constraints, but it may nonetheless lead to some disappointment, particularly given that these initiatives occurred at the end of his second term, when electoral considerations were no longer at issue.
More broadly, other aspects of his presidency invite a measure of restraint in evaluating its overall legacy. His decision not to intervene militarily in Syria, despite an apparent openness to humanitarian intervention, as well as the absence of criminal accountability for abuses committed during the CIA’s post-9/11 detention and interrogation program, complicate the picture. Although these issues do not all directly concern questions of memory, they remain relevant to any comprehensive assessment of the presidency and counsel caution in drawing broader conclusions.
[1] Ruti G. Teitel, Presidential Visions of Transitional Justice: A Legacy of Responsibility and Reconciliation, New York: Oxford University Press, 2025, at 3.
[2] Id.
[3] Patrick Roger, “Colonisation: les propos de Macron font polémique”, Le Monde, February 16, 2017.
[4] Benjamin Stora, “Les questions mémorielles portant sur la colonization et la guerre d’Algérie”, Report, January 2021.
[5] Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and Montenegro), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2007, p. 43.
[6] Members and Militants of the Patriotic Union v. Colombia, Preliminary Objections, Merits, Reparations, and Costs, Judgment of July 27, 2022, Series C No. 455.
[7] Ruti G. Teitel, supra note no. 1, at 5.
[8] Trump v Hawaii, 585 U.S. 667, 701 (2018).
[9][9] See e.g., Elazar Barkan & Alexander Karn (eds), Taking Wrongs Seriously: Apologies and Reconciliation, Redwood City, CA: Stanford University Press, 2006; Jennifer M. Lind, Sorry States: Apologies in International Politics, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2008; Mark Gibney et al. (eds), The Age of Apology: Facing Up to the Past, Philadelphie, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009.
Suggested citation: Elie Tassel-Maurizi, Symposium on Ruti Teitel’s Presidential Visions of Transitional Justice, Part IV: Thinking Transitional Justice Beyond Tribunals: Reflections on Ruti Teitel’s latest book, Int’l J. Const. L. Blog, Mar. 31, 2026, at: https://www.iconnectblog.com/symposium-on-ruti-teitels-presidential-visions-of-transitional-justice-part-4-thinking-transitional-justice-beyond-tribunals-reflections-on-ruti-teitels-latest-book/