On May 28, 2025, Namibia officially marked its first Genocide Remembrance Day, a somber public holiday dedicated to commemorating the early 20th-century genocide committed by German colonial forces against the OvaHerero and Nama peoples. While the ceremonies were solemn and state-sanctioned, the moment was haunted by unresolved tensions, lingering trauma, and accusations of historical double standards on Germany’s part.
Between 1904 and 1908, in what was then German South West Africa, imperial forces under General Lothar von Trotha carried out a campaign of extermination after the Herero and Nama peoples resisted colonial expansion and land dispossession. This included mass killings, death camps, forced desert marches, and starvation policies. Historians widely consider this period to have constituted the first genocide of the 20th century, with estimates of the death toll reaching up to 80% of the Herero population and over 50% of the Nama. The methods employed—including concentration camps like the infamous Shark Island—echoed tactics later seen in Nazi Germany, leading many scholars to describe the genocide as a blueprint for future atrocities.
Germany officially acknowledged the genocide in 2021, following decades of advocacy and growing international attention. The two governments announced a so-called “reconciliation agreement” in which Berlin pledged €1.1 billion in development aid to Namibia over three decades. However, that financial commitment has been widely criticized for falling far short of actual reparations. Many Namibians, especially descendants of the victims, view the arrangement as symbolic at best—and insulting at worst.
The Remembrance Day ceremony in Windhoek was meant to be a healing milestone. President Hage Geingob delivered a nationally televised address emphasizing the need to remember the past while building a united future. Representatives from the German embassy also attended. Yet conspicuously absent were some of the most vocal OvaHerero and Nama community leaders, many of whom boycotted the event, arguing that their concerns have been marginalized in the reconciliation process.
“This day should be for those of us whose ancestors were driven into the desert and murdered like animals,” said Chief Vekuii Rukoro, the late Herero Paramount Chief who was one of the strongest critics of the German agreement until his death in 2021. His successors continue his advocacy, insisting that reparations must include land restitution, direct financial compensation, and a seat at the negotiating table—none of which were adequately provided in the 2021 deal.
Activists argue that Germany’s response has been marked by hypocrisy. While the country is globally admired for its post-World War II efforts to reckon with the Holocaust—including memorials, education, and reparations to Jewish survivors—the same sense of moral responsibility has not been extended to its African colonial crimes. “There is a clear racial and geopolitical double standard at work,” says Dr. Munyanduri Mbaeva, a Namibian historian. “When the victims are African and the crimes are colonial, Germany’s language shifts from obligation to ‘voluntary aid.’ That’s not justice—it’s diplomacy.”
Germany, for its part, insists that it has taken a significant step by recognizing the genocide, using the term “genocide” officially, and establishing development-focused assistance. Berlin maintains that the aid package, while not labeled “reparations,” is a gesture of historical responsibility and future partnership. But many in Namibia see this as a legal dodge designed to avoid liability under international law.
Moreover, the return of stolen artifacts and human remains, another long-standing grievance, has moved at a glacial pace. Human skulls taken to Germany for racial research remain in museum storage. Ceremonial objects stolen from Herero and Nama leaders have not been returned. While Germany has made symbolic gestures—including returning some remains in 2018 and 2019—there has been no large-scale repatriation effort.
The Namibian government finds itself walking a tightrope between its diplomatic relations with Berlin and the demands of its own citizens. While President Geingob’s administration praised the 2021 agreement as a step forward, opposition parties and community groups argue it reflects post-colonial elitism, where deals are struck between governments without the informed consent of the most affected communities.
Beyond Namibia, the events of Genocide Remembrance Day reignite broader questions about Europe’s colonial reckoning. As former colonial powers grapple with the legacies of conquest, slavery, and genocide, public demands for truth and reparations are growing louder. In this context, Namibia’s case stands as a test: can historical justice be achieved without meaningful restitution, or does symbolic recognition without legal consequence only add insult to injury?
The answer, for many Herero and Nama descendants, is clear. As long as the bones of their ancestors lie beneath unmarked deserts, and stolen land remains in the hands of settler descendants, true reconciliation is impossible.
Germany’s motto after the Holocaust has long been “Nie Wieder”—Never Again. But in Namibia, where memories of extermination camps and colonial brutality remain vivid, the refrain feels hollow. If “Never Again” is to mean anything, it must begin where colonial violence first became industrial.
