LUEDERITZ, Namibia: On a thin strip of land at the bay of Luederitz in southern Namibia are dozens of gravestones bearing the names of each German soldier killed during a largely forgotten colonial war.
Nearby is a single marble plaque anonymously marking all their fallen adversaries.
Between 1904 and 1908, tens of thousands of men, women and children belonging to the Herero and Nama tribes that stood up to German rule were killed in battle, or died of starvation, cold or mistreatment in their isolated corner of southern Africa.
“Shark Island” was the name given to a concentration camp in Luederitz, which was used as a tool in Germany’s systematic repression that is today considered by some historians as the first genocide of the 20th century.
For many years, the bloody episode was little known, both in Africa and in Europe. Shark Island was transformed into a campsite popular with foreign tourists.
“There is real pain,” said Ida Hoffmann, 69, a Nama-origin MP and activist.
“If the German government ... respected the pain and the feelings that we went through and paid reparations, that thing that became now just a camp, where people go and have their honeymoon, would not be there,” she said. “Shame on them.”
Hoffmann is as equally damning of the German authorities as she is of the Namibian government, which has been negotiating the recognition of the killings and possible compensation.
The facts of the bloodshed are uncontested: In 1904, Namibia was engulfed by conflict when the Herero people, and later the Namas, rose up against German colonial rule, which had been in place since 1884.
The Germans responded with ferocious repression that included massacres, forced deportations and forced labor, with the orders for the clampdown signed on Berlin’s behalf by Gen. Lothar von Trotha.
Some of those targeted fled to neighboring Botswana but, according to historians, 80,000 Hereros — out of 100,000 — were killed, along with 10,000 Namas.
Germany long refused to take the blame for the episode, only accepting responsibility on the 100th anniversary of the massacres in 2004.
But it ruled out the possibility of reparations.
Germany’s Foreign Ministry insisted that “very generous” foreign aid money given to Namibia represented an acknowledgement of responsibility for the slaughter.
The German position is woefully inadequate for Herero former MP and Culture Minister Kazenambo Kazenambo, who is calling for the return of all of the land confiscated during the colonial era.
“The genocide has resulted in displacement where people find themselves in underdeveloped areas,” he said.
“We have our people living in overcrowded land when others are owners of acres and acres of land that are not fully utilized — and the owners are in either Berlin or Frankfurt.”
Okakarara, 300 km north of the Namibian capital Windhoek, was the scene of one of the bloodiest battles of the colonial-era conflict as well as a bastion of the Herero community.
Sarafia Komomungondo reflects on the past, sat outside her shack, feet trailing in the sand that surrounds her home.
“Before the war, we were better off ... we had our sources of living, the animals especially,” said the former traditional dancer with piercing blue eyes and traditional headwear, now in her 80s.
“Today we don’t have anything ... people are going to bed without eating anything, so those reparations will do us very good.”
Perhaps as much as recognition and help from Germany, many members of the Herero community want their own government to respond to their plight.
“Herero people are not part of the tribe that is leading the government so we don’t think the government will support us,” said Komomungondo’s neighbor, 69-year-old Veronika Mujazu.
Since independence in 1990, Namibia has been ruled by the SWAPO liberation movement, which is controlled by the majority Ovambo ethnicity.
Hereros make up just 10 percent of Namibia’s 2.5 million people.
“In Africa to be strong politically you need the numbers,” said Ester Muinjangue, director of the OvaHerero Genocide Foundation.
“In Namibia we are the third or fourth (largest) group. We are excluded, so we can’t influence the discussion and its outcome.”
Traditional Herero and Nama leaders have for months been demanding a seat at the negotiations between Windhoek and Berlin — along the lines of the reparation talks between Germany, Israel and representatives of the Jewish community following the end of World War II.
But both Germany and Namibia have refused to allow the Hereros and Namas to participate.
The two tribes have formally accused Germany of genocide at a court in New York under a statute allowing non-US citizens to make claims before a US federal court for violations of international law.
A judge agreed in March to hear their case and another hearing is set for Friday.
Namibian authorities have dismissed their efforts, insisting that they will end in an inconclusive stalemate.
“The people who initiated the case come from a side that’s not our camp, in terms of politics,” said Namibian government negotiator Zed Ngavirue.
“The basic thing is to understand that any meaningful agreement will be reached at state level. It must be an agreement between states.”
Ngavirue said that progress was being made in the talks but declined to give details.
But Herero former minister Kazenambo remains skeptical and is prepared to continue his fight.
“For us it’s not about money, it’s about morality and justice,” he said. “We won’t ever give up on that.”
Namibia genocide victims battle for compensation
Namibia genocide victims battle for compensation
Russia jails 15 for life over IS-claimed 2024 concert hall attack
- Eleven other men were also jailed for life for acting as accomplices and of having terrorist links
- Four more men were handed sentences of between 19 and 22 years over their links with the attackers
MOSCOW: A Russian court on Thursday handed life sentences to four gunmen from Tajikistan, and 11 others it said were their accomplices, for the 2024 Crocus concert hall attack that left 150 people dead.
The March 2024 shooting spree was claimed by Daesh and was the deadliest militant attack in Russia in more than two decades.
Relatives of some of the victims stood in the grand Moscow military court as the verdict was read out.
Shamsidin Fariduni, Dalerdzhon Mirzoyev, Makhammadsobir Fayzov and Saidakrami Rachabolizoda — all Tajik citizens who went on a shooting spree in the building before setting it on fire — looked down as the judge sentenced them to life.
Eleven other men — some Russian citizens — were also jailed for life for acting as accomplices and of having terrorist links.
Four more men — including a father and his sons — were handed sentences of between 19 and 22 years over their links with the attackers.
The gunmen entered the concert hall shortly before a show by Soviet-era rock band Picnic. They went on a shooting spree before setting fire to the building, trapping many victims. The attack wounded more than 600 people. Six children were among those killed.
Uliana Filippochkina, whose twin brother Grigory was killed in the attack, flew from Siberia’s Novosibirsk for the verdict.
She said she was “satisfied” with the ruling and that she had looked the men who killed her twin in the eyes during their final statements in the trial.
“They didn’t explain anything, they tried to escape responsibility, appealing to the fact that they had wives and children... That they were under the influence of drugs,” she said.
- ‘No remorse’ -
“There was no sympathy or remorse whatsoever,” she added.
Her brother went to the concert shortly before his 35th birthday. The family were only able to identify what was left of his body weeks later, burying his remains in Novosibirsk.
The verdict came ahead of the second anniversary of the killings.
“For us all it’s like yesterday,” Ivan Pomorin, who was filming the Crocus Hall concert at the time, told AFP.
Lawyers said some of the victims are still being treated for their wounds, while others have severe PTSD, unable to sleep, use public transport or be in crowded places.
The four gunmen — aged 20 to 31 at the time — worked in various professions, among them was a taxi driver, factory employee and construction worker.
They stood in the glass defendant’s cage, surrounded by security guards.
According to media reports, Mirzoyev’s brother was killed fighting in Syria, possibly leading to his radicalization.
Hours after the attack, Russian police brought them to court with signs of torture — including one barely conscious in a wheelchair.
- ‘Redeem guilt with blood’ -
The attack came two years into Moscow’s war in Ukraine, with Russia — bogged down by the offensive — dismissing prior US warnings of an imminent attack.
The Kremlin had suggested a Ukrainian connection at the time of the attack, but never provided evidence.
Russia’s Investigative Committee said after the verdict it was “reliably established” that the attack was “planned and committed in the interests of” Kyiv.
It accused the men of also plotting attacks in Dagestan.
TASS state news agency reported this month, citing a lawyer, that two of them — Dzhabrail Aushyev and Khusein Medov — had asked to be sent to fight in Ukraine instead of a life sentence.
Throughout its offensive, Russia has recruited prisoners for its military campaign, offering a buy-out from their sentences should they survive.
According to the lawyer quoted by TASS, Medov said he wanted to “redeem his guilt with blood.”
- Anti-migrant turn -
Russia — already undergoing a conservative social turn during the war — upped anti-migrant laws and rhetoric after the attack.
This has led to tensions with Moscow’s allies in Central Asia, some of whom have confronted Russia and called on it to respect the rights of their citizens.
Russia’s economy has for years been heavily reliant on millions of Central Asian migrants.
But their flow to Russia dipped after Moscow launched its Ukraine campaign and some Central Asians also held back from going to Russia after the post-Crocus migrant crackdowns.









