Living in Poland as a Venezuelan inevitably means engaging with two histories that, at first glance, seem very different, yet at a deeper level speak to the same fundamental question: how does a society confront its collective past in order to build an uncertain future? From this dialogue between experiences emerges an essential inquiry:
What does it mean to heal a history marked by violence, exclusion, and wounds that cannot be closed by decrees alone?
Polish lustration: looking back in order to move forward
After the fall of communism, Poland faced a crisis that was less visible but equally profound: the need to confront its authoritarian past and the complicity of many with the former regime. This necessity gave rise to a process known as lustration (from the Latin lustratio, meaning purification or ritual cleansing), aimed at revealing the links between public officials and prominent figures and the communist secret services (SB), and at limiting their access to key public offices.
The goal was not merely punitive. Rather, it sought to restore trust in institutions within a state whose political credibility had been deeply eroded by decades of repression. Lustration—controversial and uneven in its results—represented an attempt to make the invisible visible, to name what many would have preferred to forget, and to distinguish, however imperfectly, between those who collaborated with the repressive apparatus and those who did not.
The process, however, was neither simple nor peaceful. The opening of archives and the public debate surrounding collaboration with the communist regime did not produce social consensus, but instead triggered intense discussions about responsibility, memory, and justice.
Poland confronted its past publicly, through archives, courts, and open debate that exposed what had long been hidden. This mechanism was far from perfect—nor was its implementation—but it represented an effort to prevent the past from remaining an unnamed shadow lingering over the present.
Venezuela: amnesty in times of uncertainty
The Venezuelan experience, by contrast, has followed a different path. In 2026, a law of amnesty was proposed with the aim of benefiting political prisoners, exiles, and those persecuted for political reasons, among other groups, from 1999 onward. This initiative emerged in the context of a prolonged national crisis, in which there has been no broad consensus on what exactly occurred, no shared narrative of political violence, and no commonly accepted truth regarding the responsibilities of the various actors involved.
Amnesty, understood primarily as legal forgiveness or immunity, tends to look forward without necessarily resolving the unresolved issues of the past. It is a political—and at times strategic—act that seeks to create space for a new beginning, yet it also carries the risk of concealing rather than confronting the deep wounds of a fractured society.
Two paths, one challenge: memory versus oblivion
What can Venezuela learn from the Polish experience?
The importance of making the past visible rather than forgetting it.
Lustration sought to publicly expose links and collaborations with the former regime instead of granting forgiveness without knowing who did what. Bringing painful truths to light helps build a more solid foundation for social trust.
Amnesty is not a guarantee of reconciliation.
Granting amnesty without a process of acknowledging responsibility may leave behind a sense of impunity and fragmented memory. Transitional justice is not only legal; it is also narrative, social, and symbolic.
Memory goes beyond official history.
In Poland, debates over archives, testimonies, and collaboration with the former regime sparked political and cultural discussions. These debates did not resolve all tensions, but they forced society to confront the past as an integral part of the present.
An unnamed past tends to return.
Polish lustration demonstrates that silence does not heal, and denial does not erase responsibility. Without placing memory at the center of the process, the past risks continuing to operate as a hidden yet active force in politics and social life.
What should the law of amnesty mean for Venezuela today?
Beyond a legal gesture, a genuine transition requires confronting the past directly, through mechanisms that allow for:
- truth and recognition of facts,
- shared responsibility,
- processes of listening and reparation,
- and not merely legal forgiveness devoid of profound social debate.
Amnesty without memory can become a way of sweeping wounds under the rug. Lustration without justice can amount to a superficial purification. Neither path alone guarantees social peace, but both reveal that failing to confront the past leaves wounds open rather than healed.
A final reflection
Venezuela and Poland remind us that declaring a new beginning is not enough. What is required is the construction of a sustainable narrative—one that acknowledges pain, responsibility, and shared commitments.
Only then can the past be transformed into an honest point of departure, rather than a persistent shadow cast over the future.
If you would like to learn more about the Polish experience, I invite you to read:
What was the Polish lustration really about?
Written by Dr. Silvana Gómez Mercado, lawyer, professor of Human Rights and International Humanitarian Law, and founder of Centro Latino. For more articles on historical memory, justice, and reconciliation, visit silvanagomez.com.