San Salvador, El Salvador

For five years I lived and worked in the outskirts of San Salvador with an organization supporting marginalized families living with HIV/AIDS.  Though the agonizing combination of poverty and HIV formed a part of my daily experience, AIDS was not the main epidemic that surrounded my life.  The World Health Organization considers more than 10 homicides per 100,000 residents to be at epidemic levels.  From 2004 to 2009, El Salvador ranked first in the world with 62 homicides per 100,000 residents. After five years in San Salvador, having a pistol pointed at your head during an assault on the public buses became a common experience.

Every day after sunset as I returned to the small house I shared with my wife and her family, I went through the same apprehensive routine: Walk quickly through the streets; look constantly over your shoulder to see if you are being followed; sit near the front of a bus next to an elderly lady if possible (they always inspire shelter); don´t look at anyone, don´t talk to anyone; don´t trust anyone.

Nebaj, Guatemala

A year later, I find myself living in a quiet Mayan town in the highlands of western Guatemala.  Every day after sunset as I return to the small room that I share with my wife, I go through the same life-enhancing routine: Walk calmly through the streets; stop to chat with the local woman selling tortillas on the corner; pause in dark alley to contemplate the stars and the moonlight silhouetting the surrounding mountains; find a pick up soccer game in the park to join in on; look at everyone; talk to everyone; trust everyone.

The difference between these two daily routines—one marked by fear and violence, the other by trust and tranquility—has made me constantly question how violence evolves, how it becomes entrenched in the daily lives of communities, and most importantly, what is a real, effective response to this violence.

From my experience, there seems to be two main “answers” or “responses” that arise due to the endemic situation of violence: the apathetic response and the de-rooted response.

The Apathetic Response 

The apathetic response is a response generated by the genuine fear of impoverished, marginalized communities overwhelmed by the ever present hostility of their surroundings.   This response is characterized by an increased militarization of society, a generalized lack of trust, apathetic resignation to the inevitability of violence, and the loss of capacity to consider life sacred.

These characteristics are manifested in the recently and popularly supported political decisions among various governments to send out the military to patrol the streets, the resolve of certain political parties advocating for the death penalty, or by “hard-hand” laws that criminalize youth and “suspect” populations.

It is seen when, due to the constant killing of bus drivers for not paying extortion fees to gangs, most bus drivers in San Salvador put a sticker on their windshield reading “Only God knows if I´ll be back”, in essence resigning their fate to the luck of the draw.  It is heard in the conversations between people on the streets: “What happened over there?”  “Ahh, it´s just another dead person.” Fourteen murders a day in a country the size of Massachusetts numbs the inherent capacity we all have to appreciate life as the most sacred and precious of gifts.

This response is then propagated, expanded and exaggerated by the mass media and manipulated by government and business elites who prefer this simplified and superficial response to violence which is purely reactionary, while turning a blind eye to the underlying, systemic causes of this violence.  However, I do believe that though manipulated by mass media and elite sectors of society, and though this response has been shown to be completely ineffective in decreasing violence, it is an understandable reaction by communities affected by this unyielding aggression of violence.  Communities faced with daily homicides, rapes and extortions excusably opt for the myopic solution of the apathetic response as a type of survival mechanism.

The “De-rooted” Response

Then there is the ; a response formulated by academic sectors, NGOs, and people more aligned with the political left.  It is a response that seeks to question not just the visible consequences of violence, but uncover the underlying causes of this violence.  This response argues that youth delinquents and gang members are victims of an unjust system that denies them educational and work opportunities.  It advocates for more policies aimed at re-inserting youth as productive members of society and condemns the militarization and “hard-hand” policies that are implemented by governments and championed by mass media.

Though this response by a sector of society is much more holistic and visionary; though it seeks to correct the causes of violence and not just attack its observable consequences; though it offers a much more realistic attempt to effectively reduce violence; there is one key problem.  This response is generally formulated and advocated for by sectors of society that live removed from the daily, callous reality of the violence that affects their country.

It is a lot easier to advocate on behalf of youth delinquents as victims of an unjust society when you´re not a victim of extortion, or when you don´t have to fear being assaulted on public transportation, or when you don´t live in a community controlled by local gangs and drug traffickers.  Ultimately this response, though well articulated and well-intentioned, is divorced from the deep rooted reality of the majority of the marginalized population.

"El Dolor" by Oswaldo Guayasamin

Charissa Zehr, an MCC worker in Santa Rosa, Honduras, contemplates violence, mourning, and faith in this post from her blog on January 27, 2012  http://findinglempira.blogspot.com

Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Sometimes there are no other words to express all the feelings that well up inside me. And at times, the words of others, passed down from generation to generation of believers still feel insufficient.

It has been a long week filled with difficult questions. Why does God allow terrible things to happen? Why do God-fearing, God-following people have to suffer? How can I provide comfort to people living in the stark reality of injustice? How can we as Christians who talk endlessly about justice make any kind of impact in a dangerous and violent society where people are too afraid to speak out?

This week took a shocking turn for my church family in Santa Rosa when one of our brothers was brutally killed after preaching at another church a few minutes outside of town. This man was a well-respected member of our church. He was humble and caring, always quick with a smile and a joking word. He was also a mentor of many youth and will be greatly missed as a father and role model.

Although it has not been easy, it has been a privilege to be part of this church community and share in their pain this week. To walk along side them and share in the grieving process has taught me a lot already and continues to stretch me in my relationships and in my faith.

When faced with situations of injustice and pain, my first reaction is often one of anger and frustration; then–what are we going to DO about it? Taking action feels like the only correct response, and even then, it does not always seem sufficient. But perhaps we need a change in our thinking–to allow ourselves the freedom to be still for a moment (or two)–to mourn, weep, question, and dwell in the pain of tragedy.

It was only in reading the thoughts of others that I was able to allow myself this space for lament and mourning. Here is an extended quote:

“The antiquated notion of lamentation points us in a direction opposite to our contemporary impulses. We are conditioned to respond to a problem…by identifying a course of action and mustering as much resolve as possible in an effort to make a positive difference. The standard operating principles – which have their place – include effort, productive change and hope. Lamentation derails that. It provides a sacred space in which to expose our shadiest feelings.

I need this. I can’t carry all [of this] with me.

Lamentation is a space in which we do not need to hide or minimize these normally frowned-upon sentiments…In lament, we walk straight into the darkness, the valley of shadows, and stay there as long as necessary.

Nancy Duff, a professor at Princeton Theological Seminary…writes that usually “we are taught that true faith in God mitigates such intense feelings” as the ones we might express in lament. Similarly, theologian Walter Brueggemann notes the common and, in his view, unfortunate belief that good Christians do not “acknowledge and embrace negativity.”

But the biblical lamenters – who wrote a full third of the Psalms – make an art out of our impropriety. They express desire for harsh vengeance (“Happy shall they be who take [the Babylonians’] little ones and dash them against the rock.” Ps 137:9); they make brazen accusations against God (“You [God] have renounced the covenant with your servant.” Ps 89:39); and they cry out in utter despair (“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” Ps 13:1).

Lamentation even allows us to give up. Duff says it “allows us to rely on God and the community to carry forth hope on our behalf when we ourselves have no hope in us.”

[from Will Braun. full article: http://www.geezmagazine.org/magazine/article/a-walk-in-the-dim-valley/]

"Maternidad" by Guayasamin

I know that my community here is NOT without hope and have already seen a vibrant strength in the midst of tragedy…but I am asking my broader community to carry forth the hope on our behalf, because sometimes even our most resilient faith can be hard to find.

For more information: http://www.canadianmennonite.org/articles/honduran-mennonite-pastor-killed

Note- Oswaldo Guayasamin (1919-1999) is an artist from Ecuador whose work frequently depicts the violence and suffering in Latin America as a result of war and injustice.

Lake Atitlan, Guatemala, location of the MCC Retreat January 2012

Adriana Koehn is the Connecting Peoples Program Coordinator in MCC Guatemala.  This article was posted on January 24 on their program website http://www.connectingpeoplesguatemala.blogspot.com/.

A quick search on the Internet and one can find more than enough reports on the current reality of violence that most of Central America and Mexico are experiencing. Indeed the situation at times seems quite grim, leaving one to wonder just what things like the newly elected ex-military President will bring to Guatemala.

While many of the region’s cities can be found on various “most dangerous” lists, it was more than fitting that the topic of working at peace in this violent context was the focus of the regional retreat for MCC workers in Mexico and Central America earlier this month.

The similarities between the various countries and the struggles that they all seem to share is alarming, causing one to feel that this little part of the world is going down, and going down fast. (Read more here about these difficult issues that connect the North with the South).

We of course don’t want to live in fear nor scare others with these headlines, but it is always important to be aware and question the root causes of these issues. It is important to remind ourselves that these types of things don’t happen alone and that like it or not, we are all far more connected than we think. Take the issue of U.S. gun control and firearm smuggling as an example, something that is explained so well on the MCC Latin America Advocacy blog (Mexican Day of the Dead: Cause of Death?).

So often with these overwhelming and seemingly unsolvable issues, one feels like there is nothing that can be done. And although the discussions that we had at the regional retreat were tough and a bit depressing at times, I still left with a sense of solidarity and reassurance knowing that we’re not in this alone. It was hopeful to be reminded of the important work communities and partners are doing to take steps towards sustainable change in the region.

Climbing the Agua Volcano, Guatemala, to stop violence against women January 21, 2012

It was also timely that this past weekend a Guatemalan campaign called “Break the Cycle” organized an activity in which 10,000 people formed a human chain up the “Agua” volcano outside of Antigua, speaking out against domestic violence and the general “culture of violence” that permeates the country; videoshere and here. As a side note, President Otto Perez was also at the event, either looking for good publicity or hopefully truly supporting this call for peace, and I was there when he arrived (like him or not, it was exciting to be 5 feet away from the President).

Another encouraging aspect of all of this is that there are small things that you out there can also do to speak out against violence and work at supporting this same sustainable change; for example, learn about and get involved in the Stop Gun Smuggling campaign here and here. Or consider supporting MCC partners like these in Honduras: Proyecto Aldea Global and Proyecto MAMA

It’s the tradition at the end of the MCC retreat for each team to present a talent of sorts during the famous “Noche de Talentos.” Among many other creative and entertaining acts this year, the Honduras team shared the following song from the Honduran artist Polache; a fitting reminder of the need to work towards change, both on a large scale and within each of us.

Polache, Honduran musician

“Mira Honduras”

May your eyes not be covered
Careful with the corruption and incomprehension
The indifference and delinquency
More and more no one can be found in this nation
Pay attention to this heart song
We have more good here
More those we love, we believe in this land
It is a blessing

Look at Honduras with different eyes
This is your land
I discovered that by looking at it with different eyes you will deserve it
Look at Honduras with different eyes
You have to love it
I discovered that by looking at it with different eyes you will deserve it

May your eyes not be covered
Deforestation and contamination
The poverty, injustice, and vulgarity
More and more no one can be found in this nation
Pay attention to this heart song
The richness, grandness, nobleness is more, and more the beauty
That there is in this land is a blessing

New Guatemalan President ex-General Pérez Molina

“It was like having to chose between cancer and AIDS.”

This is the phrase I heard frequently during a recent trip when talking with Guatemalans about the impossible choice that voters had in the elections in November 2011.

The key election issue was the escalating violence and national security. (Although one candidate highlighted a promise to get the Guatemalan soccer team to the World Cup in 2014 – always an important consideration!)

Of the final two candidates, one, Manuel Baldizón, was a multi-millionaire member of one of the most powerful business families in the Department of El Petén, who appeared to have links to narco-trafficking and the illicit acquisition of government contracts.

The other was Otto Pérez Molina,  a retired Army General implicated in the massacres of the early 1980s, and more recent political assassinations, including that of Bishop Gerardi in 1998. Pérez Molina was the commanding officer in Nebaj, Quiche during the counterinsurgency from 1982-3, when 77 Maya-Ixil villages were razed, and 3,102 civilians including elderly, women, and children were massacred.[i]

The ex-military general won the election by a narrow margin with promises of a “mano dura” (an iron fist) against the increasing violence and corruption.

Photos by Daniel Hernandez for the cover of the Catholic Church's Historic Memory Project documenting the human rights violations during the armed conflict 1960-1996

While the Peace Accords of 1996 officially ended the 36-year armed conflict in Guatemala, the country continues to be plagued by violence, that is both directly and indirectly related to the mass crimes of the armed conflict. The  “mass crimes” include both the systematic government elimination of individual civil-society leaders considered to be threats, and the massacre of over 600 indigenous communities by the army.[ii]

Current forms of violence that are a direct consequence of the mass crimes of the 1980s include: organized crime, impunity, and lynchings. Forms of violence that are indirectly connected are petty crime, delinquency, and youth gangs.

On top of this, violence associated with the drug cartels has increased as the war against the drug cartels in Mexico has escalated and pushed the conflict into the Central American countries, particularly northern Guatemala.

And  of course, the underlying structural violence that has characterized Guatemala since colonization, that of severe poverty and inequality, continues. Over half the population lives in poverty, 49% of children are malnourished, and illiteracy remains at about 50%.

All Guatemalans have been marked by this violence, according to Willi Hugo Pérez, the Rector of SEMILLA, the Latin American Anabaptist Seminar in Guatemala City.

“The pervasive violence is evident even within the small community of people working at the seminary (about 15 people),” Rector Pérez told me. “The teenage son of one of the cook’s was acccidentally killed in a shootout between gang members, and the librarian’s sister-in-law was killed when she failed to immediately pay extortion for her small store. In the past couple of years, almost every staff member has been victim of assault, robbery, or extortion.”

“People have been traumatized, and have never been able to heal ,” according to José Luis Azurdia.  coordinator of REDPAZ, at a meeting of peace organizations in Guatemala City. REDPAZ is a peace network in Central America initiated by the Anabaptist churches and a partner of MCC. “The continuous experience of violence has normalized of the use of violence to resolve conflict and has perpetuated historical cycles of violence.”

Today in Guatemala there is a renewed interest in  the role of the church, restorative justice, and peace theology says Rector Pérez. “I have been asked to give talks about biblical and theological perspectives on peace in various churches including Nazarene, Pentecostal, and Presbyterian churches. Christians are searching for ways to respond and to live within this context of multi-layered violence.”

On January 16, fifteen Guatemalan peace organizations, both faith-based and secular, gathered at SEMILLA to begin forming a Peace Platform.

Participants voiced the need and purpose for a Peace Platform in Guatemala today: “We need to gather together to learn from each other. Reflection and action are linked together. We need to articulate a the peace-building process from  a social, rather than militarized perspective. We need to propose alternative models for peace, and these models need to come from the churches and community-based organizations.”

NOTE:

In an historic step forward, a judicial process against the ex-General Rios Montt was initiated on January 26. He is charged with mass crimes for the period when he was dictator (March, 1982- August, 1983), including over 100 massacres, 1771 deaths, 1485 young women sexually assaulted, and the forced displacement of more than 30,000 people.[iii]

Half a million internally displaced Haitians still live in camps two years after the earthquake. Photo by A. Wiebe

January 12, 2012 was the second anniversary of the earthquake in Haiti. In this post, Alexis Erkert and Beverly Bell of Other Worlds, describe the on-going search for housing solutions in Haiti. Alexis is a former MCCer is now the Another Haiti is Possible Coordinator for Other Worlds.

Haitin women in camps make a distinction between housing and homes. They point out that while lodging can provide a roof over their heads, what they want is a nurturing space that is free of violence, where the common good is prioritized, and where power dynamics between men and women can shift.

Two years after the earthquate in Haiti, over 500,000 people still live in displacement camps. In the absence of initiative by the government, some Haitian non-profit and human rights organizations have stepped out of their normal missions to provide different kinds of housing. They have teamed up with local communities to create do-it-yourself solutions. They hope to inspire others, including their government, to envision and to dare to create viable community spaces with local participation.

Colette says, “You can’t just denounce what you don’t want. We’re meeting with others, as well as drawing inspiration from housing movements, networks and cooperatives in other countries. We want to propose alternatives that our country’s leaders could use as models.”

Environmentally-friendly housing built by ITECA Photo from website http://www.forumlibertas.com

In one of these alternatives, the peasant support group Institute of Technology and Animation (ITECA) in Gressier, west of Port-au-Prince, is building 1,700 permanent homes for residents who lost theirs. With funding from Caritas Switzerland, the houses offer water and electricity, almost unheard of in the countryside, and moreover in environmentally low-impact ways – through a rainwater collection system and solar panel on each roof. Each is equipped with an outdoor latrine.

The houses are earthquake and hurricane-resistant and use local building materials, like stones, to the degree possible. Another rare feature is that the home-owners themselves do all of the work that doesn’t require specialized skills. ITECA is also working with the mayor to ensure that each owner will receive proper land and housing titles.

Chenet Jean-Baptiste, director of ITECA, explains, “We aren’t building houses to meet a need for housing, but rather as a work of community process. For us, housing is an entry point for re-organizing concepts of land ownership and social and economic relationships. Our fundamental mission is to accompany communities and encourage them to become principal agents of change. After all, what’s the point of giving someone a house only for them to die of hunger inside it?”

A second initiative is GARR’s dream to create land and housing cooperatives. The vision springs from a 40-year-old experiment in Uruguay, where 25,000 members of housing cooperatives manage their housing and land communally. It is also reminiscent of land reform communities in Brazil and elsewhere. In this model, according to Colette, “the very poor pool their money together and pull their internal resources to resolve their own problems, to find land and care for the land together. Everyone is responsible for the community.”

GARR has started two model cooperatives, made up of 42 families on the Haitian-Dominican border. One is a landowners’ cooperative where families with small properties merge their properties to manage together. The second is cooperative housing, on land donated by the government. With assistance from Christian Aid, GARR has constructed 15 out of 40 projected houses on this land. The visionaries hope that the cooperatives will continue to grow and that “villages of life” will evolve, thriving communities with on-site or nearby clinics and schools, and job opportunities in agriculture or small business.

In Cap-Rouge, in South-eastern Haiti, the Haitian Platform to Advocate Alternative Development (PAPDA, an MCC partner) is working together with an organization called Hope for the Development of Cap-Rouge (VEDEK), to repair 500 destroyed homes using local building materials.

According to Franck St. Jean, coordinator of PAPDA’s Food Sovereignty Advocacy Program, core principals of the project include strengthening local wisdom, culture, and economy; conserving biodiversity; and empowering community. Though currently funded by European non-profits, PAPDA and VEDEK are ultimately trying to create a model that doesn’t depend on external funding or knowledge.

Similarly, the Support Group for Rural Development (GADRU) is repairing homes around the towns of Carrefour and Kenscoff in Haiti’s western province. Their objective? To promote community development wherein konbits, or volunteer, collective labor teams, of 10 families each build one another’s homes. GADRU, too, is working with local construction techniques and materials – wood, stone and earth – and designing the homes to withstand natural disasters.

Children in front of temporary housing built by a local Mennonite Church with MCC assistance. Photo by A. Wiebe

Displaced people and grassroots organizations in Haiti are insisting that they must have input in developing solutions.

“People have needs and they have ideas, they have visions for the way that houses can be built,” says Reyneld Sanon of the Force for Reflection and Action on Housing (FRAKKA). “Go into a camp, and ask any child to make a drawing that shows what kind of house they want to live in. And you’ll see. You’ll see. Even children have ideas and ideals.”

For more information about housing in Haiti, see:

http://www.otherworldsarepossible.org/another-haiti-possible/two-years-after-earthquake-haiti-%E2%80%9Chousing-our-battle%E2%80%9D

Haitians actively claim the right to housing. Photo by Ben Depp

January 12, 2012 will be the second anniversary of the earthquake in Haiti. In this post, Alexis Erkert and Beverly Bell of Other Worlds, describe the on-going search for housing solutions in Haiti. Alexis is a former MCCer who lived through the earthquake, and is now the Another Haiti is Possible Coordinator for Other Worlds. 

As 2012 begins, a growing movement of displaced people and their allies in Haiti is actively claiming the right to housing, which is recognized by both the Haitian constitution and international treaties to which Haiti is signatory.

Haitians displaced by the earthquake two years ago face many crises, but perhaps none worse than ongoing homelessness. One of the 520,000 people still living in displacement camps, [i] Dieula Croissey describes conditions where she lives in Cité Soleil: “We’re living in insecurity, our lives are threatened, our daughters are used.” In addition to insecurity and violence, especially against women, people living in camps face deteriorating shelter materials – shredding plastic tarps and tattered tents – hunger, and lack of adequate water or toilets. Despite Haiti’s declining rates of cholera infection,[ii] the dearth of sanitation options leaves real risk for contracting the disease.

One of the many Internally-Displaced Persons camps that continue to exist in Port-Au-Prince. Photo by Adrienne Wiebe

Meanwhile, reconstruction projects, especially permanent housing projects, have been slow in materializing. According to figures furnished by UN-HABITAT, only 13,000 houses have been repaired and 4,670 permanent homes built for the more than half a million people originally displaced. Approximately 100,000 temporary shelters have also been built.[iii] Tiny (less than 100 square feet for an entire family), usually made of untreated plywood or heavy plastic sheeting, these do not provide a long-term solution for people in need of housing.

The first step toward a real solution, according to the housing movement, must be development of a comprehensive national housing policy by the government, with broad input by displaced people themselves. Currently, no such policy exists; instead, homeless people’s fates are in the hands of piecemeal efforts from groups ranging from respectful community churches to profit-motivated businesses. One component of a national policy is that the government begin invoking eminent domain, exercising its right (guaranteed by a Decree on the Recognition of Public Interest in 1921) to claim private property for public use.

The second urgent need, activists say, is for the government to create public housing on the claimed land. The governmental Public Office for Public Housing Promotion (EPPLS by its French acronym) exists for this purpose, but currently has no budget or authorization to move forward. Housing activists stress that the residences built must be safe; have access to roads; provide water, electricity, and sewage; offer community and recreational spaces; be accessible to people with disabilities; and provide women with equal access.

The housing rights movement is also calling on the government to:

• Pass a law guaranteeing the right to housing. While Article 22 of the Haitian Constitution recognizes the right to decent housing, it does not guarantee it;
• Enforce existing rent control legislation. Renters report prices rising up to 17 times higher than pre-earthquake;
• Take proactive measures to sort out land tenure and create a registry of ownership, as a first step toward an urban and rural land redistribution program;
• Define a land use policy that prevents housing speculation and facilitates decentralization from Port-au-Prince by encouraging rebuilding outside the capital;
• Give small grants and credit to help people repair or build their own houses, where the government doesn’t provide public housing. The movement is calling on foreign organizations to do the same;
• Tackle gender bias in housing and land ownership, so that women’s names are consistently included in titling and their legally protected right to own and inherit land is enforced; and
• Ratify the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. This covenant, recognized by 160 countries, has been signed by the Haitian government but not yet passed into law. Doing so would hold the government responsible for providing housing, education and other human rights accountable to international standards and monitoring.

Painting by J. Derifond, Haitian artist

As with every other element of reconstruction from the earthquake, displaced people and grassroots organizations are insisting that they must have input in developing solutions. Calling on the Haitian government to provide a comprehensive solution to the housing crisis, they are also paving the way with participative models of what that solution could look like. Reyneld Sanon of the Force for Reflection and Action on Housing (FRAKKA) says that people have to be part of planning the reconstruction of “their neighborhoods, of their cities, of their country, and of their dignity.”

Part 2 of this post will look at some of the alternative, participatory housing models being developed in Haiti.

________________________________________________________

References

[i] This is the most recent figure available. (HAITI Emergency Shelter and Camp Coordination Camp Management Cluster, Displacement Tracking Matrix V2.0 Update, November 30, 2011).

[ii] When rainy season ended, the number of new cholera cases declined from an average of 500 a day to 300. As of November 18, 2011, 521,195 people have contracted cholera and of those, almost 7,000 have died. (UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), Humanitarian Bulletin (19 November -19 December 2011), December 19, 2011; Republique d’Haiti Ministère de la Santé Publique et de la Population, Rapports journaliers du MSPP sur l’évolution du choléra en Haiti, January 3, 2012,  http://www.mspp.gouv.ht/site/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=117&Itemid=1).

[iii] In August 2011, the Haiti Shelter Cluster reported that 9,4879 temporary shelters had been constructed. (Haiti Shelter Cluster, Shelter Report by Municipality, August 31, 2011).

Painting by J. Derifond from http://www.galleryofwestindianart.com

Colombia

Weaving from La Guajira, Colombia

The SEED program in Colombia brings together ten young people from the Americas (Canada, US, Mexico, Colombia, and Peru) and two coordinators for a two-year term to reflect, serve and advocate with Colombian communities.  “Participants of the program come together for two years to reflect on the issues that maintain barriers – from economics, politics, and war; to culture, geography, and theology.  The program connects the reflection on the big issues with community grassroots service  together with communities who are working against significant violence, poverty, and oppression.  While seeking to connect the macro to the micro, and learning to see how the large structures affect real communities, participants learn to speak as a community to advocate for peace, justice, and equality with global partners.” Follow their journey at this website: http://seed.mcc.org/

Guatemala

Weaving from San Juan Cotzal, Guatemala

In previous posts on this site, MCCer Tobias Roberts has written about the situation of the Maya-Ixhil community, San Juan Cotzal, in northern Guatemala that is negotiating with the Italian transnational corporation building a hydro-dam in their community. Tobias recently published this article about the case in the Huffington Post, “Church Leaders Join Fight Against Italian Energy Giant in Rural Guatemala Over Construction of Palo Viejo Dam.”   http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tobias-roberts/guatemala-palo-viejo-dam_b_1124387.html?ref=religion

Bolivia

Aymara weaving from highland Bolivia

The country of Bolivia has geographic, cultural, religious, and class divides that challenge the creation of a just and peaceful society. MCC Bolivia is a member of an inter-institutional peace-building coalition, “La Plataforma Interinstitucional “Construyendo Paz, ”  in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. The coalition is made up of non-profit  social development organizations that are working together for the construction of peace, justice, and democracy in Bolivia. Recently, the coalition sponsored a study entitled [translated from the original Spanish] “What divides us and what unites us: Social attitudes in Santa Cruz about cultural racism and socio-political violence.”  Based on a survey of 800 residents, the results showed that although the historic cultural-racial divisions continue to exist between indigenous and non-indigenous peoples to some degree,  these are exacerbated by economic and political structural inequality. The survey also demonstrated the existence of positive elements, such as intercultural respect and democratic values, upon which a process of peace-building can be founded. For more information about the survey and the book, see:  www.unirbolivia.org

Migrants detained crossing Mexico

Miriam Harder has recently begun an MCC service assignment working in conservation agriculture in Chiapas, Mexico, and in Central America. In this blog, she recounts an encounter with the realities of immigration on Mexico’ southern border.

The sun was setting as I settled into my comfortable bus seat, complimentary Pepsi in hand, to watch a few movies before we got back to San Cristobal.  It had already been a long trip from El Salvador and I was looking forward to getting back after 24 hours on the road.  We were well into Father of the Bride when we stopped at a migration checkpoint.

Migrants crossing the river between Guatemala and Mexico

The Mexican/Guatemalan boarder crossing had been a couple of hours earlier, but there continued to be periodic checkpoints.  I didn’t pay much attention to the official who boarded the bus until he was ushering someone down the aisle.

“Are you travelling alone?” the official asked, foregoing the formal tense of the verb you use as a sign of respect with people you don’t know.

“Yes, alone,” replied the man in question.  He was middle-aged, in a clean button-up shirt and baseball cap.

“Where are you going?”

“Oaxaca.”

My understanding is that these checkpoints are mainly to intercept drugs and Central American migrants.  Or at least make their movement more difficult.  Though I don’t know this man’s story, he was likely from a Central American country and the official was assuming that he was yet another ‘illegal’ migrant travelling in search of work, either in Mexico or in the US. Each year, an estimated 100,000 Central Americans migrants cross Mexico, and about 60,000 are detained and deported.

He was pulled off the bus to be thoroughly questioned.  The bus rolled off without him.

"Entry into Mexico, May God bless your journey"

Here I was, a Canadian, who entered Mexico on a 180-day tourist visa without issue.  The official barely looked at me as he walked down the aisle.  But he had taken one look at this man, who looked slightly more like a labourer than the rest of the Mexicans on the bus and pulled him off.  If he couldn’t prove his ‘legitimate’ presence in Mexico, he would be deported.  I wasn’t really into Father of the Bride after this point.

At an earlier immigration checkpoint I had seen a number of men in a barred holding room – presumably pulled off buses or picked up on their way through Mexico, waiting for further questioning or likely deportation.

Mexican and Central American migration has interested me long before I started with assignment.  What drives people to undertake such risky and dangerous journeys, so far from their families, for work in another country?  Why has it essentially been criminalized?  Since arriving in Mexico this issue has become ever more present in my life, as I meet many people who have family that, or who themselves, have migrated.  I read whatever books and material I can get my hands on.

My work with agriculture projects is closely connected to migration here in Chiapas.  If I can be a small part of working with people to figure out how to make their marginal land more productive, so that they can support their families without leaving them, I don’t think I can ask for a more rewarding task over the next number of years.

Main routes of Migrants across Mexico

Marion & Ricardo, with daughters Sofia and Isabel

This is a devotional that Marion Meyer shared at a gathering of MCC Connecting Peoples Coordinators in Honduras, September, 2011. Marion and her husband, Ricardo Torres, are the Country Representatives for MCC Mexico. 

When thinking about Christians, advocacy, and peacemaking, I am reminded of the Biblical imperative to “love our enemies”.  Surely we think of people who commit injustice as our “enemies”.

Luke 6.22-23;27-31

22 ‘Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you^* on account of the Son of Man. ²³Rejoice on that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

27 ‘But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, ²⁸bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. ²⁹If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt.³⁰Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. ³¹Do to others as you would have them do to you.

Movement 1:  We are prophets

I really like this passage because it starts off  by describing the reason why we have enemies, and that is because we are prophets.  Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest in the US, writes:

“The prophet could be compared to the court jester who keeps the king honest and on course.  The prophet is the passion, the justice, the truth-speaker of God, especially to all forms of institutional idolatry.  They are set up for conflict and rejection.” (Rohr, 1995, p. 240)

This also implies that our enemies may be among those whom we consider part of us, and not just people way out there.  When we are advocate for justice and peace, we are acting within the realm of the prophet.

Movement 2:  What is love?

Martin Luther King reminds us that Jesus uses the the Greek word “agape” for the kind of love that he is referring to in this text.  Agape love seeks nothing in return.  It is a creative, understanding, redemptive goodwill towards all people, an overflowing love that is akin to the love of God working in the lives of people. Agape love means loving someone not because you like them but because God loves them.

Movement 3: Why should we love our enemies?

The first reason Martin Luther King (and others such as Mahatma Gandhi) give for loving our enemies is that hate begets hate.  Violence elicits another violent reaction, and the only way to stop this vicious cycle is for somebody to respond with love.

The second reason has to do with what hate does to the person who is hating.  Of course, hate hurts others, but it hurts the hater even more.  When we hate we lose perspective – we start to see things in a negative light, and we start to respond in unhealthy ways based on that.

A final reason he gives for loving our enemies is that love is redemptive.  If we hate our enemies, there is no room for redeemption and transformation.  Initially, our enemies will resist our love, but with time love can melt their hearts and they start to react and act in a different and more healthy way.  Of course, there is no guarantee that love will achieve this, but we know that hate has no option of doing this.

Movement 4: How should we love our enemies?

Martin Luther King posits that the first place we should start if we want to love our enemies is by looking at ourselves.  He admits that there are many reasons that the other person might have for disliking us that we have no control over, such as our gender, our place of origin, skin colour, religion etc; but it is also possible that there is something in us, something that we have done that elicits the other person’s hate response to us. He says that this is what Jesus meant when he said “look at the log in your own eye first”.

We begin to love our enemies and those who hate us, whether in collective life or individual life, by looking at ourselves.  Since we are so close to the 10th anniversary of 9/11 we could ask ourselves, what has the West done that generates hate within certain terrorist groups?  On a more personal level, maybe someone has a hard time being with us because we have not healed a personal experience, and when we interact with them we do so as if they were the person who has hurt us because they use a phrase or body language that reminds us of the other person.

Secondly, we need to recognize the element of good that is present in our enemy (again at a collective level as well as an individual level – it is easy to criticize Walmart for instance, but the story is more complex, and if you really listen to people, you will hear that Walmart is also the good mixed with the evil).  We must learn to see the image of God within our enemies no matter what they do. Discover this element of good and place your attention there – this give you a new attitude towards this “enemy”.

Finally, love is the refusal to defeat or take revenge on any individual, rather, it is the evil within systems that you challenge.

When you rise to the level of love, of its great beauty and power, you seek only to defeat evil systems. Individuals who happen to be caught up in that system, you love, but you seek to defeat the system.

Movement 5:  How do we hold our enemies accountable?

In addition to loving our enemies we are told to pray for them.  Henri Nouwen views prayer as living in the presence of God, and as the basis of peacemaking:

“Prayer is the basis of all peacemaking precisely because in prayer we come to the realization that we do not belong to the worlds in which conflicts and wars take place, but to him who offers us peace. The paradox of peacemaking is indeed that we can speak of peace in this world only when our sense of who we are is not anchored in the world.” (Nouwen, 1998, p. 17)

Movement 6: What are our motives for peacemaking?

 You have probably heard the saying: “Your are your own worst enemy”.

What does this imply then, if we are to love our enemies?  Is it a bit like what Jesus implies in Matt 22:39 and Mark 12:31, that we can’t love our neighbours any more than we love ourselves?  Can we infer then that until we learn to love the darkness within ourselves and appreciate what it has to offer us in terms of transformation and unity with God, we will be unable to love our enemies?

Again, Henri Nouwen suggests that if we do not make peace with our own darkness and let God’s love in, then all our peacemaking efforts (even non-violent ones) will result in violence:

“It can indeed come as a great shock to realize that what we consider works of service in the name of God may be motivated to such a degree by our wounds and needs that not peace, but resentment, anger and even violence become their fruits. …..Self doubt, inner restlessness, fear of being left alone, need for recognition, and desire for fame and popularity are often stronger motives in our actions for peace than a true passion for service. These are motives that bring elements of war into the midst of our action for peace.”

“… Nothing is more important in peacemaking than that it flow from a deep and undeniable experience of love. Only those who know deeply that they are loved and rejoice in that love can be true peacemakers. Why? Because the intimate knowledge of being loved sets us free to look beyond the boundaries of death and to speaking and act fearlessly for peace.” (Nouwen, 1998, p. 12)

References:

1.  King, Martin Luther.  Loving your Enemies.  http://www.mlkonline.net/enemies.html.

2.  Nouwen, H., 1998. The Road to Peace:  Writings on Peace and Justice.  Maryknoll, NY:  Orbis Books.

3.  Rohr, R., 1995.  Radical Grace:  Daily Meditations.  Cincinnati, OH:  St Anthony Messenger Press.

Pictures: “Trees of life” are detailed clay sculptures made in central Mexico. Originally the sculptures were used to teach the Biblical story of creation to indigenous people during the colonial period.

Dialogue between Cotzal community and the ENEL energy corporation

“Five hundred years ago, the Spanish came and tricked our ancestors out of what was rightfully theirs with meaningless gifts and promises, and now the story is repeating itself as you come here and ridicule our rights and show contempt for our customs.  What you need to realize is that at this negotiating table, there are people here; people that demand equality and demand to be heard and respected.”

This was the statement of Miguel de Leon, spokesperson for the indigenous communities of Cotzal, Guatemala during the latest frustrated round of negotiations between communities and corporate executives from ENEL, the largest Italian energy corporation on September 2, 2011.

The mainstream global society values uniformity and generally disregards the differences

Tobias Roberts and his wife, Yasmin Mendez, are MCC workers in Guatemala

and the contradictions that arise from the immeasurable diversity that marks us as human communities.  Few times in my life have those differences and contradictions been as apparent as when I participated as an invited observer during the recent negotiations mentioned above.

The negotiations over the construction of a hydroelectric dam on the ancestral lands of the Mayan Ixhil of Guatemala began on May 2nd, 2011 after several years of tension and confusion, but came to a standstill at a September 2nd meeting when ENEL refused to consider a compensation and profit-sharing mechanism that would have provided the San Juan Cotzal people a 20-percent slice of the revenues from the 84 MW Palo Viejo dam, which will be the third largest in the country.

Representatives of ENEL stated they would not negotiate with the communities on any profit sharing mechanism because they considered the community’s demands to be “unreasonable.”  This refusal by ENEL to negotiate, and especially the rationale for that refusal, attests to the fundamental dilemma that has plagued the dialogue from the very beginning: the confrontation of two differing paradigmatic worldviews that has led to a “conflict of reasonability”.

What is reasonable and correct for an international energy corporation is very different than what it is considered reasonable and just from the perspective of Mayan subsistence farmers.  Though the clash between ENEL and the Mayan population of Cotzal has many causes, the core is this “conflict of reasonability”.

Who “owns” the land?

Palo Viejo Dam under construction

On May 7^th, in the initial round of negotiations, both parties agreed to foundational principles to guide the process of dialogue.  ENEL insisted that the communities of Cotzal recognize and respect the property rights of ENEL over the land where the hydroelectric dam was to be built.  The communities, for their part, demanded that ENEL acknowledge and respect the International Labor Organization’s treaty 169 which states that indigenous communities have the right to prior consultation regarding any exploration or exploitation of resources on their lands, the right to compensation for damages, and the right to share in the benefits of such activities. Guatemala is a signatory of the ILO 169 treaty.

During the four months of intense negotiations, this issue arose in various moments.  On June 10^th, the communities presented their list of “demands” to ENEL which included a 20% share of the revenues produced by the hydroelectric dam, a compensation package for damages occurred during the construction, and the conformation of a joint committee to permanently assess damages effected by the dam. ENEL, though refusing to comment on the content of the demands of the communities, suggested changing the terminology.  According to Oswaldo Smith, general manager of ENEL in Guatemala and spokesperson for ENEL during the negotiations: “It seems to me that a more correct term for what the communities are asking is “request.”

Though the terminology was not altered, this discrepancy between “demands” and “requests” takes us back to the initial dilemma of the “conflict of reasonability”.  The communities of Cotzal call these demands because they consider the land to be historically theirs, and thus believe they have rights over what happens on these lands.  ENEL, however, having legal title to the land where the dam is being built and having invested the money and technology that will eventually produce the energy, believes that the communities are only entitled to request certain benefits from ENEL, the legitimate owners.

Finally, after four months of tiptoeing around the heart of the conflict, ENEL openly stated that they would not negotiate the demands of the communities because they were “unreasonable”, and the negotiations came to a halt.  The crisis of two “reasons”, of two perspectives, of two worldviews, of two ways of understanding the world and our relation to the land and to community was ultimately unbridgeable.

Conflicting Worldviews

Mayan woman weaving

Undoubtedly, the hegemony of the western paradigm and its overarching influence in forms of government, economic organization and the determination of the laws that govern society has rendered invisible any possible alternative to the almost universally accepted norms of representative, centralized government, free-market capitalist economic organization, and laws that are based on the previous two.

Under the authority of this paradigm, the “reason” to which ENEL appeals, would seem to take priority.  ENEL has, after all, legal title to the land where the dam is being built.  They are providing the capital to invest in energy production and were invited by the government of Guatemala who considers foreign investment and the “wealth” that it creates to be the backbone of the economy of the country.

The communities of Cotzal, however, appeal to another type of “reason” which has the weight of history on its side and is also backed by various national and international laws (Constitution of Guatemala, ILO 169, UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples).  These legal instruments have been fought for in order to protect and give voice to those who have been inevitably forgotten, marginalized and excluded from the western paradigm of representative, centralized government and free-market capitalism.  The communities appeal to the “reason” that they have a right to enjoy the fruits of the lands they have collectively inhabited for 2500 years.

Baltazar de la Cruz Rodríguez, spokesperson for the communities, affirms, “We have ancestral rights over our mountains, rivers and forests, and the right to enjoy the wealth that they create in order to create a better life for the communities of Cotzal consistent with our culture and cosmovision.”

What would be a Biblical perspective?

So, who shall we “give the reason” to? Psalm 103:6 offers this reply: “The Lord restores justice and secures the rights of the oppressed.”

The Judeo-Christian tradition scripturally and historically affirms that God gives the reason to the poor and oppressed of the earth through “securing the rights of the oppressed.”  But to secure the rights of the oppressed and to give reason to the poor also implies discrediting the legitimacy of the “other reason”; that of a paradigm that assures the existence of oppressed and oppressor.

“He has put down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up those who are downtrodden. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty,” Mary says in the Gospel of Luke. For God to give reason to the oppressed assumes that God acknowledges the existence of societies where injustices and violence have been the historic norm and rejects this.

What, finally is the “reason” that the oppressed appeal to and ask of society?  An inclusive society that respects the minimum aspects of justice to guarantee a life of dignity for all; respect for the peasant and indigenous population to fashion autonomous forms of development for themselves without external manipulation; and that the right to life be the most imperative right of all.

A village in Cotzal

When ENEL refused to negotiate the demands of the communities, Miguel de Leon put into words the essence of this conflict of reasonability. “Why do you consider our demands unreasonable?  This is our land and our rivers and we are only asking for 20% of the profits that our rivers create.  We don´t ask much, but your greed makes you see our simple demands as not reasonable.”