Is peace possible?

Photos like this can be fun, but they also tell a lot about Colombia's reality.

Once upon a time, during one of our class lectures, a professor matter of factly stated that Colombia has a "culture of violence." This produced quite the reaction from some of my classmates, who instantly interrupted her talk and became quite defensive.

"How can you say that? We do not have a culture of violence," they said, "It is true that violence is very prevalent in our country, but this does not mean we are all violent people." One peer added, "I don't just get up in the morning and hit my wife or throw things at my children; I know how to have loving and peaceful relationships."

The professor stood strong. She cited statistics of Colombia's rates of domestic violence, child abuse, road rage, kidnapping, murder, armed robbery, internal displacement, bombings, land mines, gangs, paramilitaries, guerrillas, etc. She returned to her PowerPoint slides about how Colombia's lack of identity had created a void that was filled with "illegality," and she talked about the "logic of survival" in such a "fragmented" society. She reminded us of the basic definition of violence that had been a constant tool of analysis for the entire semester: Johan Galtung's triangle that divided violence into its three forms: direct, cultural, and structural. She then alluded to Colombia's problems with cultural and structural violence, such as the massive gap between the rich and the poor and pervading machismo, racism, stereotypes, and hierarchies. She concluded by stating, "I am just as Colombian as you are, and I know that it's hard to hear. But this is a term used by researchers and scholars alike to describe Colombia. That's just the way it is."

My peers did not buy it. They began quoting anthropological definitions of "culture," referring to massive peace mobilizations within the country, and reciting examples of peaceful behavior of fellow Colombians. They refused to let our poor professor (who was caught off guard) to continue to the next topic; they wanted to resolve this controversy right then and there.

I simply sat back and watched the heated debate unfold. As a foreigner, I felt that any comment I made about Colombia could be taken as an ethnocentric critique, but I did have my own opinions...

I began thinking of the bloody, graphic images that often appear on the news reports and the horrific photographs of 7 men who'd been tortured to death in Cali (presumably related to the drug trade) that I'd seen on the newspapers being sold on my way to the bus stop that morning. I thought of the fight that had broken out between two bus passengers two days previously, simply because one of them refused to move to the back of the bus.

BUT THEN... I also could see the view of my classmates. Colombia has a culture of dancing, of singing, of laughter, of music, of art, of gossip, of families, of excitement. It has been cursed with a violent history and still finds itself in a terrible conflict; it has a long way to go to boast true "equality."... Yet, does this mean that it also has a "culture of violence?"

I resolved to forget these technicalities and labels and simply focus on the facts at hand.

FAST FORWARD SEVERAL MONTHS...............

It was the very last class of our graduate program. A celebratory feast including bottles of wine and appetizers was waiting for us outside of our classroom, and there was certainly a "last day of school" vibe in the air. Our last required activity was a discussion (supposedly a "debate," although I wouldn't call that an accurate description) on the topic of: Is it possible to create a culture of peace in Colombia?

The term "culture of peace" is very important because, after all, the program itself is called, "The Culture of Peace and International Humanitarian Law." Contrary to the impression that many people seem to have when I mention this name, peace in this context does not simply mean the absence of violence or conflict (technically, that would be "negative peace;" our coursework provided us with many definitions of the various classifications of "peace"). Rather, a "culture of peace" is much more comprehensive and refers to a way of life that "makes children and adults understand and respect freedom, justice, democracy, human rights, tolerance, equality, and solidarity." A culture of peace implies rejection of violence of all forms, in all settings.

Thus, it is a pretty lofty, idealistic goal that would be difficult to achieve in any country of the world, let alone Colombia. Yet, with the way my cohorts discussed it in our "debate," you'd think it were something just around the corner for their beloved tierra. It reminded me of those Miss America parodies that show contestants stating, "My goal is to end world hunger, create world peace, and give every child in the world a big hug" or something incredibly far fetched like that. And, all the while, the professor of the module sat smiling and nodding, like a proud kindergarten teacher whose students had just successfully sang the entire alphabet for the first time.

I'm not saying a culture of peace is not possible; I'm just saying that my fellow students forgot to answer one important question: how? With all of the analytical tools, facts about the Colombian crisis, peace construction theories, and problem-solving skills that we had learned throughout our 2 semesters of study, you'd think that they'd be able to make comments with a little more substance. Perhaps it was because everyone was eager for the wine and treats that were waiting for us in the hall, but they certainly didn't appear to apply our newly acquired knowledge to a very real and important question about the reality of their country. I have to admit I was annoyed with the lack of depth and critical thinking demonstrated in what was supposed to be the culmination of our entire graduate program.

Then, it was my turn. (A participation grade was to be awarded, and I couldn't allow a 0 to ruin my grade-point average). Once again, I didn't want to be the critical, ethnocentric foreigner, so I tried to make myself clear. I told them that I feel a true "culture of peace" would be incredibly challenging to obtain anywhere, and I talked about the ways in which I'd seen a true lack of such a culture time and time again in the daily life of Colombians (acknowledging that the same could be said of my experiences in the USA). I mentioned that I'd been incredibly touched by the hospitality and kindness of many of their countrymen, but (at the same time) I'd also been afraid because of the true hostility I'd experienced. I spoke about one potential solution: developing economic opportunities for all people, not just the wealthy elite. That way, people wouldn't need to resort to joining paramilitary, guerrilla, drug-trafficking groups or stealing to make ends meet; they wouldn't feel the need to cut in line or yell/fight with others for hand-outs; they wouldn't feel hopeless about their lack of futures and resort to a life of crime and violence. This, however, would not not be enough to create a true "culture of peace" and would require strategic and complicated economic development plans that I am not qualified to create... I was given a 3.9/5.0 for my commentary.

FAST FORWARD TO THE PRESENT DAY....

As I have attempted to really grapple with whether or not Colombia can become a peaceful nation (I'm not going as far as the "culture of peace" concept), I'm really torn. On the one hand, many scholars acknowledge that Colombia has been ridden with conflict since the Spanish inquisition. And, unlike other countries in Latin America that have experienced horrific civil wars or genocides (like Guatemala, El Salvador, Chile, and Argentina), Colombia has the added factor of the drug industry, which will always refill the pocket books of insurgent groups and cause territorial battles. Furthermore, politicians have been linked to the paramilitary groups on multiple occasions, greatly affecting public policy that could create much needed changes.

I have been greatly impacted what I've learned about the violence during my year-long stay in the country. Human rights workers, members of labor unions, and politicians are often killed-- in addition to normal citizens. Not only have I worked with displaced peoples, but I've seen victims of land mines, heard two shootings in my neighborhood, and listened to some pretty devastating accounts. I will never forget the story of one of my classmates who is a psychologist and works on the National Commission for Justice, Truth, and Restitution-- who talked about the stories of child soldiers that she'd interviewed (at least 6,000 children, both boys and girls, participate as child soldiers. One in six has killed someone; almost all have seen torture; and eight of ten have seen dead bodies. Girls are often used sexually). Her tale involved young boys confiding in her how the rebel groups had a rule that those who deserted must be killed by their best friend, then he/she must perform awful rituals afterwards, like bathing in the blood, to "get rid of the fear of killing." Another horribly messed-up story was that of a classmate who works for the Public Defense Office, who once accompanied a group sent to identify the remains of an entire town that had been massacred. Their trip ended abruptly, as the guerrilla group began shooting at them, purposefully preventing them from identifying their victims.

Evidence of the conflict can be found in many places. Just two blocks from my university, there's a Catholic church where 100 people were kidnapped in mass by ELN guerrillas in 1999. I also regularly pass by a site where 12 politicians were kidnapped in 2002. They were the departmental (province) Assembly Building, and men entered their meeting, shouting that a bomb threat had been received for the building. They were to be evacuated to a bus that was waiting outside, and they all promptly obeyed all orders they were given. A few minutes into their bus ride, their "saviors" announced that they were actually with the FARC, and this was a kidnapping operation. Eleven of the twelve were killed.

And then I've also gotten really upset with the accounts of the human rights abuses committed by the Colombian National Army that is supposed to protect the country's citizens, like this: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2004315540_farc30.html.

On the other hand, one cannot deny the true progress that has been made in recent years. Roads that were once deemed "too dangerous" to cross are now full of cars, and I have been able to do a lot of traveling that would not have been possible five years ago. Hostages are being released (as a side note, six FARC hostages were released last week as I'm updating this entry on February 10th... although a bombing in Cali on the same day was credited to the same group). People tell me that they feel much, much safer, and (although I have to be careful) I have never felt like I'm in a war zone.

Most importantly, Colombians want peace more than anything. They talk about peace efforts on a daily basis. They come together in mass demonstrations. They demand that their representatives create peace-building legislation. They dream of a Colombia free of conflict for their children and grandchildren. When there's so much hope, optimism and forward-thinking, I truly feel that failure is impossible. Colombia will not ever become a utopia, but improvement is inevitable.