Peacebuilding Global Consulting

Conflict Composting: Refuse

I have always has some discomfort with the term conflict transformation because it is so nondescript and sterile. The word transformation reminds me of transformers (see Schematics for Peace Blog posting in February and March) or worse evokes the image of those awful transformer toy movies in which mechanical things can reassemble themselves into robot war machines. Perhaps likening transformation to composting is a much more organic metaphor including that which is intrinsic to the processes of life, death and regeneration.

To summarize what?s necessary for a good composting enterprise we need:

1. plant refuse/bio trash

2. elements (air and water)

3. microbes (from soil or manure)

Put these three together in proper balance and the outputs are nutrient rich humus and heat.

To start a conflict composting venture we will look at the so called rubbish that destructive conflict can leave in its wake. Individual or community experience with violent conflict leaves trauma, disconnection, fear, and mistrust among other things. These impacts are often seen as bad and to be ?gotten over? as quickly as possible with the pat phrases like ?moving on? and ?turning a new page.? In a post war context the litter of brokenness is often covered up like so much garbage and the open wounds and scars are actively kept out of sight.

This attitude toward the ?refuse? is a lost opportunity when left uncomposted. In its organic parallel, uncomposted bio refuse will dry rot losing much of its potential value. Likewise, the unacknowledged pain and brokenness, left uncomposted, will lose its potential for growth unless it is mixed with the elements of air and water as well as microbes.These negative experiences can be cast in a positive light when they are seen as resources for conflict composting.

In coming postings I will make analogies for the elements and microbes. For now, the key to conflict composting is recasting the painful residue of conflict as a necessary part of regeneration, an opportunity for growth and a necessary component of creating life from death.

Conflict Composting: Composting Essentials

Twenty-five years ago I was studying International Development at Bethel College in Kansas. One required course was International Agriculture. This was a practical class with a real garden containing real soil and plants. While the instructors, Paul and Mary McKay, incorporated all the ?state of the art? sustainable agriculture practices known in that day, what I remember most was making a compost pile. It has stuck with me all these years that what I would rather do is grow soil than food.

Compost needs a few essential things to work really well. Those include green matter providing the nitrogen (fresh grass clippings work well here), brown matter providing the carbon (leaves, cornstalks, sawdust) and some source of the microbes (either rich soil or manure of some kind). The right amount of moisture is needed as is some air. If conditions are right the microbes start to eat the other matter and can create enormous amounts of heat.

I spent the morning helping my brother-in-law make a compost pile from his years of accumulated yard waste. Grass clippings, wood chips from a downed tree, leaves, vegetable stalks, husks and cobs were all heaped in separate piles. He had gotten a steaming pile of cow manure complete with swarming flies for the composting venture. We layered these materials together in a wire bound bin in the garden. In the center of the compost pile was a chimney to let the center breathe and let heat escape. The picture to the right is the composting 'layer cake' we made.

While laboring to bring these materials together, I began to think of conflict transformation as actually conflict composing. In the next few blog postings I will attempt to spin this metaphor out. Stay tuned . . .

Mapping 4 Peace

This is an idea a few friends and I have been percolating. Would welcome feedback and any thoughts.


Mapping+4+Peace

Traditional Conflict Mitigation Systems

Bishop Jun of Tabuk in Kalinga got a letter from one of his parishioners that changed his life. This woman had recently lost her son to tribal violence. She wished to pray for her son?s murderer and to express her desire to publicly forgive him. This radical act of reconciliation was the start of the Bishop?s vision for the Ka-ili-yan Peacebuilding Institute (KPI).

I was invited to facilitate an introductory workshop on Conflict Transformation and Alternative Dispute Resolution earlier this month as part of KPI?s ongoing work at peacebuilding in the mountainous areas of northern Luzon, Philippines. In the workshop were military and police commanders, persons from the church and government, and some elders who are the holders of the traditional peace pacts called Bodong.

The Bodong is a traditional capacity for peace that is often underestimated by outsiders in its ability to address current violence often based on inter-tribal vendettas. In a planning meeting after the KPI, peace pact holders were adamant that where there were tribal peace pacts, there was no problem with ongoing violence.

While these peace pacts take time and resources to negotiate between the numerous tribes in Northern Luzon, they are a durable way to address violence. I was shown a map indicating that there were nearly 200 different pacts between various tribes. As many as 5 carabao (water buffalo) need to be slaughtered to seal the pact, multiplied times the nearly 200 pacts translates to a lot of money. Yet what are the alternatives? What is the cost of one helicopter or feeding one battalion of soldiers both of which are far less effective in ?peacekeeping? than an indigenously owned peace pact. Local tradition and wisdom once again proves to be the best resource.

Not the longest wait

Upon arriving at Ninoy Aquino International Airport terminal 1 this morning at 4am, I checked in and prepared to wait the remaining time before boarding my Delta flight after three weeks in the Philippines. Comforted by the sight of the 747-400 aircraft sitting at the gate, I was ready to get home. The first clue that something was wrong came from the stampede of persons up to the airline counter in the waiting area. One of the staff said that the flight was canceled. Disbelieving I waited my turn to get to the counter, and moving at a snail?s pace, finally got to talk to an airline representative. To reinforce what they told me about the flight cancellation until tomorrow due to maintenance problems, the plane was pushed back from the gate. We are being well taken care of by Delta airlines in a 5-star hotel. Breakfast consisted of every kind of Western and Asian food you could possibly eat. However, I would much rather be eating airline food over the Pacific knowing I am headed home, than the grand buffets at this glamorous hotel overlooking Manila Bay.

In twenty-four hours until we leave, or so they say. Seems like a long to time to wait but it is not the longest time I have had to wait for an airplane. Once in Somalia, in the late 1980s, I waited 2½ days for a plane. That time it was out on the desert in a windswept coastal town called Berbera. Having missed the Hargeisa>Mogadishu flight, I took the bus to Berbera 4 hours away to wait for the incoming flight enroute from Jedda to Mogadishu on Somali Airlines. But the president absconded the plane for some state business or shopping trip to Europe and so we sat, waiting under a shade tree for the tardy plane. The airport had no terminal, just a shell of a block building from the Russian era that had its windows and doors ripped out, had a dirt floor and stunk of goat pee. The airline put us up in something they called a hotel but there was no running water, was at least 100 degrees F inside and a legion of mosquitoes had a feast on me during the night. With no internet, or TV or even anything to do in Berbera, which was under curfew, we just sat, waiting.

So, lest I am tempted to scowl at this turn of events, I must remember that it can always be worse.