G is for Genocide; R is for Remembrance.

Exterior of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. Photo by AgnosticPreachersKid, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

The Holocaust is the iconic narrative of man’s inhumanity to man, of unspeakable cruelty to men, women, and children, of horrors multiplied infinitely by the systematic, scientific nature of that state-sponsored genocide.

But we do need to speak of it. This year commemorative events for Holocaust Remembrance Day (“Yom Hashoah”)  are being held on Sunday April 27 and Monday April 28, but genocide, wherever it occurs, and whomever its victims, needs to be confronted daily—as does the hatred, the racism, the othering that can spiral out of control.

A visit to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum is an opportunity for a deeply-moving, challenging, energizing experience any day of the year.

The importance of the museum lies not just in its powerful exhibits, its artifacts, films, and photos, but in the dedication of the museum to educating people around the world concerning genocides—not just the best known Holocaust but also genocides in Bosnia-Herzegovinia, Burma, Cambodia, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Rwanda, the Sudan and South Sudan, and Syria. Other valuable contributions to the confronting of genocide are its online encyclopedia and its outreach programs—for example, to Rwanda.

If you get to Washington DC, you should visit the museum; also check out Holocaust museums in other cities around the world.

Kathie Malley-Morrison, Professor of Psychology

African models for nonviolent resolution

Third in a series by guest author Mbaezue Emmanuel Chukwuemeka

Indigenous African dispute resolution mechanisms, introduced in my previous post, include efforts to utilize elders in resolving disputes peacefully. In Rwanda, where the Gacaca system predominated in efforts to resolve issues relating to the 1994 Rwandan Genocide, the traditional role of elders known as Iyangamugayo was emphasized.

The Iyangamugayo were men possessing great wisdom, altruism, and political and economic influence. They encouraged dialogue rather than violence among disputants. The Gacaca system, which was the only justice system in Rwanda before the days of colonialism, ensured distributive justice in society, without necessarily employing the use of violence.

Somalia, regarded by many today as one of the most dangerous places on earth, once employed a system known as Xeer Somaali for nonviolent means for resolving disputes.

Using customary laws, the Somalis, like the Rwandans, had elders (the Guurti or Ergada) who presided over the peaceful resolution of disputes among clans. This system worked particularly well during the days of the Islamic Council Union (ICU), where the role of clan elders was combined with Islamic principles to achieve stability and peace. The system eventually crumbled when Ethiopian forces overthrew the Islamic Council Union (ICU). However, some individuals still believe that the days of the ICU were the most peaceful ones Somalia has ever witnessed.

From all indications, Africa’s role models or programs for the non-violent resolution of disputes remain her precolonial indigenous dispute resolution mechanisms. I am not saying that all African cultural practices before the coming of Western civilization were good. There were some terrible cultural practices like the killing of twins, human sacrifices, and female circumcision.

The role of modernization

Nevertheless, I do suggest that using violence to resolve disputes and pursue goals in Africa actually started with “modernization.” It was “modernization” that first saw the exchange of slaves for gunpowder in colonial Africa. It was “modernization” that made possible the first-ever introduction of Africans to the weapons of the modern-day battlefield including weapons of mass destruction (Hiroshima and Nagasaki).

It was also modernization, under the guise of today’s capitalism, that overthrew the African socialist system that guaranteed the equitable distribution of resources, introducing instead a system that thrives on the exploitation of one class by another, a situation that ultimately leads to a violent confrontation.

Mbaezue Emmanuel Chukwuemeka has a Master of Science in Conflict Management and Peace Studies from University of Jos, Jos, Plateau State. He is a member of the Institute of Chartered Mediators and Conciliators, and works as a paralegal counsel at the Legal Aid Council for the Federal Ministry of Justice in Nigeria.

Engaging in peace: A personal story (Part 2)

By guest author Dorothy Walsh

Coming from a middle class family, I had to learn about what Gandhi called the worst kind of violence: poverty.

Dot Walsh in South AfricaMen and women on the streets struggling with addictions or homelessness needed someone to hear their stories and not judge them. I found I could offer kindness and compassion without becoming a victim myself.

Working at STEP, a treatment on demand facility with staff members and clients coming out of prison, reinforced my connection to my brothers and sisters.

Over the years, I have taught a mediation course at a local college and organized and developed a volunteer program at the homeless shelter, Rosie’s Place. I also supervised students from nine schools in the Boston area who set forth emboldened in the quest to show that there are alternatives to violence even in an unjust society.

While at the Peace Abbey, I met and greeted peacemakers from all over the world. I had the honor of presenting Rosa Parks with the Peace Abbey Courage of Conscience Award, giving a big hug to Joan Baez, sitting with Maya Angelou, and traveling to South Africa with the Mandela Award. More recently, I participated in giving a Courage of Conscience Award to the Benebikira Sisters of Rwanda (http://engagingpeace.com/?p=1155).

I have found that in every situation someone shows up who can help us find the courage to begin again, to rise above the dark clouds and find the rainbow. This was true even in the closing of the Peace Abbey, a sanctuary of peace not only for me but for countless others.

Before long, I was introduced by friends to storytelling and writing and began telling prison and other stories from my life’s  journey. In a world with much violence, we do well to remember the words of Gene Knudsen Hoffman (1919-2010), “An enemy is one whose story we have not heard.”

This story-telling venture led to the “Oneness and Wellness” program I am currently hosting for Dedham Cable TV, sharing the stories of guests who seek to make this world a better place for all.

Dot Walsh, lifelong peace activist

A living tapestry of peace and reconciliation (Part 2)

By guest author Alan O’Hare, a Seanchie (Celtic storyteller)

Rossville Street, Derry Peace mural
Mural in Derry, Northern Ireland. Image used under CC Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

As you reflect upon the visions of peace and reconciliation presented in this blog, I invite you to co-create a living tapestry that celebrates the voices of peace activists and serves as a beacon for others.

Focus now on the center of this limitless tapestry, where visitors from across the ages are eavesdropping on the conversations of teachers of peace. In their midst is a floating multidimensional puzzle that pairs of participants work on together.

What a meditative gathering it becomes as Thich Nhat Hanh, Elise Boulding, and Bishop Tutu move gently and playfully among the guests, offering pieces of the puzzle that have fallen to the floor.

As a band of international roving musicians begin playing, Nelson Mandela joins hands with Aung San Suu Kyi and invites other guests to join their dance of celebration and reflection. In moments, a circle of once-alienated sisters and brothers are singing so joyfully that puzzle solvers stop and join in.

On the rooftop is the entrance to an endless museum of art, co-created by prisoners of war and oppression, celebrating the human dream and spirit. In this world of peace, reconciliation, and harmony, standing alone in a corner are remnants of violence inside a dumpster. They await conversion into mulch for growing new forms of learning, creating, and healing. These remnants include photos, drawings, and scrapings of:

  • Fenced-in, starving prisoners from an endless corridor of concentration camps
  • Bombed-out images from Rwanda, Hiroshima, Dresden, Vietnam, China, and more others than can ever be counted
  • Endless reams of plans and designs for weapons of destruction, cruelty and subjugation

From all of these terrifying remnants, we are reminded once again of the tragic, dehumanizing echoes of the past that can move us to learn new ways to be or not to be with one another.

Is this vision realistic, possible, or even desirable? The mission of the griots and other storytellers is to bear witness to the voices of the past and to move us to search among the endless possibilities for a more loving future.

We hope you will join us in pursuing a path to world peace and reconciliation. Please share your stories and dreams at engagingpeace.com.

Alan O’Hare, LifeStoryTheatre.org