Lazarus Kwedhi
History cannot be erased, but it can be confronted, and from that confrontation, a new path can be forged. For Namibia and Germany, the coming years will test whether two nations bound by a brutal colonial past can forge a relationship defined less by guilt and resentment than by mutual interest, respect, and shared purpose.
The record of Germany’s rule in Namibia between 1884 and 1915 is stark. What began as a colonial claim became a campaign of dispossession, violence, and demographic destruction. The 1904–1908 war against the Herero and Nama peoples culminated in mass killings, starvation, forced confinement in concentration camps, and the systematic seizure of land and livestock. For the Herero and Nama, these were not abstract policies but the shattering of their economic and social life. Livestock were wealth, land was identity, and their loss meant more than material deprivation; it meant cultural rupture.
For decades, this history was acknowledged unevenly. In 2021, Germany formally recognised the killings as genocide and committed €1.1 billion over 30 years for reconstruction and development projects in affected communities. The recognition was a diplomatic milestone, the first time Germany used the term “genocide” for the Namibian case. It opened the door to a new phase in bilateral relations.
Yet recognition alone does not settle the past. Within Namibia, the 2021 agreement has been contested. Herero and Nama traditional leaders were not direct signatories to the negotiations, and critics argue that the funding structure channels resources through the central government rather than to the communities most affected. The current model, they contend, risks being tailored to Namibia’s broader budget needs instead of addressing the specific harms of colonial dispossession. If restorative justice is to have meaning, then it must be visible at the household and community level of the Herero and Nama in land access, agricultural support, education, health, and the preservation of their culture and traditions.
This debate matters because it shapes whether the past becomes a bridge or a barrier. Germany has repeatedly stated that the funds are not “reparations” in a legal sense but a gesture of responsibility. For many Namibians, the distinction feels academic. The practical question is whether investment reaches the people whose ancestors bore the cost of colonial rule. Targeted programmes in agriculture, vocational training, sports development, and education could make the commitment tangible. Without that, the risk is that the genocide dialogue becomes symbolic rather than transformative.
Alongside this painful history lies a second, more complex reality. German colonialism also left infrastructure, administrative systems, and technical knowledge that independent Namibia inherited in 1990. Railways, town layouts, certain legal and educational structures, and a German-speaking community that remains part of Namibia’s social fabric all trace back to the colonial period. None of this excuses the violence of 1904–1908. But it explains why Namibia and Germany remain intertwined in ways that go beyond memory. The German community in Namibia is Namibian, patriotic, and contributes to the country’s economic and cultural life. That continuity complicates any simple narrative of rupture and separation.
Today, mutual need is pressing the two countries closer. Germany is Namibia’s largest European trading partner and a significant source of development aid, technical cooperation, and investment. For a country of 2.6 million people with abundant solar and wind resources, Germany’s expertise in renewable energy is strategically valuable. Namibia, in turn, holds deposits of uranium, lithium, rare earths, and other minerals critical to Germany’s energy transition and industrial policy. In a geopolitical environment marked by supply chain disruptions and competition for resources, stable partnerships matter.
The relationship also has diplomatic weight. Namibia is a democracy in a region where democratic norms face pressure. Germany, as the European Union’s largest economy, seeks reliable partners in Africa that align on multilateralism, climate, and rule of law. Both countries have an interest in showing that historical reconciliation and contemporary cooperation can coexist. The slogan that states have no permanent enemies, only permanent interests, is often cynical. Applied here, it can be constructive: the shared interest is in stability, development, and a rules-based international order.
To realise that interest, the genocide dialogue must be treated not as an obstacle to cooperation but as a pillar of it. Reconciliation does not require forgetting. It requires remembering accurately, acknowledging harm, and using that memory to guide policy. Ceremonies of commemoration, joint historical research, the restitution of cultural objects, and education curricula that teach the full record all keep memory alive. When done in partnership, these efforts build trust. Trust, in turn, allows both governments to move from the language of guilt and resentment to the language of partnership.
This is where leadership matters most. For Namibian political leaders, the challenge is to ensure that negotiations with Germany reflect the views of affected communities and produce outcomes that communities can see and feel. For German leaders, the challenge is to match historical acknowledgement with policy flexibility – to design programs that address the specific consequences of colonial dispossession rather than only Namibia’s general development needs. Both sides will have to manage expectations, communicate clearly, and accept that progress will be incremental.
There are practical areas where progress is already possible. In renewable energy, German investment in Namibia’s green hydrogen ambitions could create jobs and export opportunities while advancing climate goals. In education, exchange programmes, scholarships, and technical training can link Namibian students and professionals to German institutions. In culture, museums and archives can collaborate on the return of artefacts and the digitisation of records, making history accessible to Namibian researchers and the public. In agriculture, support for communal farmers in former Herero and Nama areas could address both economic need and historical grievance.
None of this will erase the past. The Herero and Nama genocide remains a foundational trauma in Namibian history, and Germany bears responsibility for it. But history is not only a record of what was done; it is also a resource for what can be done now. If Namibia and Germany can align restorative justice with development cooperation, they will offer a model for how former colonial powers and former colonies can move forward.
The alternative is stalemate. If the genocide dialogue remains trapped in legal terminology and diplomatic procedure, it will continue to produce frustration. If economic cooperation proceeds without addressing historical harm, it will be seen as extraction by another name. The middle path — honest memory plus tangible cooperation — is harder, but it is the only one consistent with the dignity of the victims and the interests of the living.
History is what it is. We cannot change the events of 1904–1908 or the structures of colonial rule. But Namibia and Germany can decide what to do with this unique shared history. They can allow it to divide them, or they can use dialogue, commemoration, and cooperation to shape their common future. The work is political, economic, and moral. It requires listening, compromise, and patience.
The task for political leadership in both countries is clear: remember the dark chapters fully, and build bridges for economic growth, cultural exchange, and mutual respect. Reconciliation is not forgetting. It is using memory to guide a common future. If Namibia and Germany can do that, they will show that even the deepest colonial scars can become the foundation for a shared future bound by interest, respect, and the hard-earned lessons of the past.
