Category: Past Issues

by Raymond Aycock

Brazil

Brazil’s Cantareira Reservoir System supplies water to the largest city, Sao Paulo, which is home to nearly 20 million people in the greater metro area. A severe drought has plagued the region this year, leading to a depletion of the reservoir system. In mid-October Sao Paulo’s water utility stated that the system is operating at only 3 percent of its capacity. The Wall Street Journal reported that the Cantareira would run completely dry by mid-November. Sabesp, the state’s water utility, maintains that they have not implemented any water rationing in response to the drought and decreased capacity of the reservoir system. Before Brazil’s elections in October, state politicians were downplaying or ignoring the water crisis. However, residents reported outages and decreased water pressure, with the poorer areas being disproportionately affected. Some residents reported water shut-offs for hours, sometimes a couple of days. In the city proper, residents receive discounts on their bill if they can reduce water consumption by 20 percent. In some outlying cities, trucks are bringing in water from other areas. Residents in the municipality of Itu told Al Jazeera reporters that they were re-using dirty sewage water to flush toilets, and waited in lines by a ravine to get water from a hidden water pipe. The residents are not sure about the quality of the water they are getting from the pipe. Both water and energy utilities are expected to see a price increase during the next month. Sao Paulo state has been in conflict with surrounding states regarding the use of river water for hydropower when so many residents are facing a water shortage. A Sabesp spokesperson speculated that even if the rainy season gave some relief to the drought, it is unlikely the reservoirs would recover enough to avoid water rationing through the next year.

South Africa

Stolen copper cables needed for water pump stations to operate in South Africa’s Gauteng province were cited as the reason for almost two weeks’ disruption of water supply in September of this year. The cables have been recovered and the thieves are awaiting trial, but discussion about water in Gauteng remains active. Officials at the national level say that the province is downplaying the issue of water supply, stating that the provincial government is not addressing serious issues with water delivery. Poor maintenance, aging infrastructure, and a lack of tech savvy staff contributed to the interruption of service for the urban dwellers in Gauteng, and rural residents who have been promised piped water and reservoirs are still dependent on communal water supplies. There are temporary tanks set up in some areas, but the water is usually brackish and unsafe to drink. One municipal official from Johannesburg blamed urban population growth for the lack of rural water supply, and for the mediocre response to the water crisis in September. A recent General House Survey for South Africa found that only 45.3 percent of South Africans have access to safe drinking water inside their houses. The constitution explicitly states, “Everyone has the right to have access to sufficient food and water.” It is a promise on paper, but it is not a fulfilled promise in all of the lives of South Africa’s citizens. In Gauteng, the urban crisis of water supply interruption is over, but a solution to the rural water problem is still pending.

United States

Detroit, Michigan has lost more than a million residents since 1950, but the water infrastructure has not changed. In some of the poorest neighborhoods in one of the United States’ poorest cities, residents pay some of the highest water rates in the nation. Poor policing and a lack of sufficient staff in the Water and Sewage Department results in massive scavenging and squatting in vacant buildings, leading to burst water pipes and flooding. The bills for these incidents are tacked on to property taxes, resulting in foreclosures on homes and rising debt for the Water and Sewage Department. Under pressure to reduce more than $90 million in bad debt, the city announced, and quickly enacted, water shutoffs for residents who were more than two months behind on their water bills, or owed at least $150. A report in September stated that water shutoffs were happening at a rate of 400 households per day. Between March and August of this year nearly 22,000 homes lost access to water, and out of that number a little over 15,000 had their access restored. At least 7,000 homes in Detroit are still without access. Citizens of Detroit have been quick to fight back, and around the globe human rights activists have been outspoken about the denial of a basic human right. UN officials issued a formal statement regarding the water shutoffs in Detroit as a “human rights violation.” As of yet, there has been no federal or state intervention to stop the water shutoffs. The city has been using private companies to conduct the shutoffs, and has employed Veolia Corporation (well-known as an advocate for the privatization of public systems worldwide) as a consultant for water infrastructure repairs and operations improvement, leading workers’ organizations to condemn the privatization of a basic human right that will further deprive Detroit’s poorest citizens (disproportionately black citizens) of water.

From the Editor’s Desk – Kyrstie Lane, Managing Editor

Pedagogy of Conflict: “Knowledge as Action, Action as Change” – Pushpa Iyer, Director

The Power of Language – the Language of Power: Leveraging Core Humanitarian Principles To Improve Multilingual Communication in the Field – by Barbara Moser-Mercer

Drone Follies: “We Can’t Kill Our Way Out of This Mess” – by Siamak T. Naficy

Complex Conflicts and the Dilemma of Searching for Peace and Stability in Sudan: What Can Be Done? – by Hamdan Goumaa

Cover Photo: Tamaru Naam Shu Che – Bryan Weiner

Picks of the Quarter

by Siamak T. Naficy

President Obama’s recent condemnation of the horrors of the Sandy Hook shootings in Newtown, Connecticut, has provoked comparisons with his attitude toward the children killed by unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs, also known as drones). In his eloquent Op-Ed for The Guardian, George Monbiot argues:

“It must follow that what applies to the children murdered there by a deranged young man also applies to the children murdered in Pakistan by a sombre American president… If the victims of Mr. Obama’s drone strikes are mentioned by the state at all, they are discussed in terms which suggest that they are less than human.”

Sadly, Monbiot is right. From the drone pilots’ descriptions of casualties as “bug splats” to Obama counterterrorism adviser Bruce Riedel’s lawn care metaphors (“you’ve got to mow the lawn all the time. The minute you stop mowing, the grass is going to grow back”), we must acknowledge that dehumanization is not just a manner of speaking – it is a manner of thinking. It is a form of self-deception: It allows one to disengage, to pretend the people being killed are not people, are not children, after all. Then, if they are not one of us, they do not deserve the same depths of empathy we feel when one of us is harmed.  This is undoubtedly a key to understanding what is at work in the minds of those that find the drone strikes morally acceptable. For those who see no moral dilemma in the 176 children killed in Pakistan alone by drones – they, the Pakistanis, are not us. Not really.

Numerous studies have shown that within- and between-group conflicts are perceived quite differently. There is a strong correlation between the kind of conflict imagined, say a soldier in war (between-group) or a police officer fighting crime (within-group), and the persona considered admirable, say a vengeful slayer or honorable defender. While we would certainly be outraged if police action routinely caused “collateral damage,” we may tolerate civilian casualties in war. Humans then may treat warfare and crime with different psychological systems. If so, each system may include different principles for evaluating the morality of behavior.

This explains why the heroes of old, who specialized in war, were not always particularly moral. What we tend to call “history” is largely an accounting of inter-group conflicts. Classic historical works, from the Old Testament to the Iliad, are war tales. Most of human history involved anxiety over whether neighboring bands, clans, tribes, city-states or nations were planning something. In such a context, where dangerous neighbors loomed large, the human tolerance for what warriors could do in war also loomed large.

Achilles and other men in the Iliad discuss honor only with regard to their own sexual access to women, typically captured through warfare. The Holy Bible, Quran, Old Testament, and the Mahabharata are full of examples. Moses instructed his army to rape and slaughter women and children (Numbers 31:17-18). Psalm 137 may be a beautiful biblical text, but also includes the line: “O daughter Babylon…Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!”

Though rape and pillage may have been morally acceptable in times of warfare against “outsiders,” they would be considered immoral if perpetrated against those “inside.” The question then is whether in the 21^st century, the people of Pakistan, an ally, and other innocent human beings in general, are included in the administration’s conception of humanity as us, or if are they outside it. To locals, certainly, drone attacks demonstrate that the U.S. devalues the lives of people in other countries.

The Obama administration’s stated rationale is that the drone strikes do not “involve the presence of U.S. ground troops, U.S. casualties or a serious threat thereof.” This explanation is weak and disturbing because it conflates expedience with moral justification. The fact-value distinction from logic asserts that statements of fact do not imply statements of value. “Can” does not necessitate “ought.” To say that we can target individuals without incurring troop casualties does not imply that we ought to.

What we have is an effort by our government to wage a more sanitized war unburdened with the inconvenience of American casualties. However, it is unclear if the President’s calculus has taken into account all of the costs. From the rising PTSD among drone pilots, to possible human rights violations, to perceptions of an American double-standard and beyond, the drone war has been costly. People in countries where we use drones wonder if Americans would tolerate drone strikes on American schools and religious centers, even if militants were hiding among civilians.

Drones cause fewer casualties than “carpet bombings,” the napalm used in Vietnam, or the two atomic bombs dropped by the United States. But drones are far from being “surgically precise” or other Orwellian propaganda euphemisms used to distract us from the blood and gore. Moreover, in the hands of secret organizations like the CIA and the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC), they covertly expand our wars. Unknown to most Americans, our Afghan war bled into Pakistan, Yemen, and Somalia. We have had drone strikes in Iraq and the Philippines, and with plans to use them in Nigeria and Libya, we are building new drone bases around the world.

This spread of drone warfare sets a dangerous precedent for the United States, which since 9/11 has labored to sharply distinguish war from terrorism. While there is no universally accepted definition, the U.S. defines a “war” as a military action by a nation-state, whereas “terrorism” is a “premeditated, politically motivated violence perpetrated against noncombatant targets by subnational groups or clandestine agents” (see Title 22 of the U.S. Code, Section 2656f[d]). This definition identifies war as an action of nation-states exclusively and suggests that the same act of aggression that would count as “war” if instigated by a nation-state, is “terrorism” if carried out covertly or by a subnational group. So where does that leave the covert drone program? Furthermore, if we are to rationalize such brutalities because we are “at war,” then how can we continue to call enemy atrocities “acts of terror?” “Terrorism” itself becomes a word with little meaning – a trashcan label for violence committed by “the enemy”; a term that would never apply to our own acts of carnage.

With the killing of Osama bin Laden, the Obama administration had terminated almost everyone who was involved in 9/11. Arguably, we should have been almost finished with “the war.” Mistakes were made along the way – we killed many Iraqis and Afghans who had nothing to do with the atrocities of 9/11, but the administration could have plausibly maintained that we finished our job of punishing those culpable. Instead, we are still out there, now with a next-generation targeting list complete with another Orwellian term, called the “disposition matrix.” We are killing, but creating enemies faster than we can kill them. Mitt Romney said it and President Obama agreed: “We can’t kill our way out of this mess.” But drones have become a substitute for a coherent strategy to solve the root causes of militancy. The problem is that the militants are not just a bunch of “evil-doers” without cause. Drones kill people but do not kill ideas. Such attacks arguably amplify the voices of those who denounce foreign intrusion and demand local control. So, even if drones kill militants, they help legitimize militant ideas. Consider that the new Taliban and al-Qaida recruits were around ten years old at the time of 9/11. The only thing that they know about America is that we are killing their people with drone strikes.

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Siamak Naficy is currently a senior lecturer in Defense Analysis at the Naval Postgraduate School, with a PhD in Anthropology from UCLA. He considers himself a social scientist that frames human behaviors from a natural science perspective. In this way, he views the human social phenomena as part of the natural world, with natural though not necessarily “simple” explanations. Largely speaking, he is interested in the interplay of socio-cultural and evolutionary processes in how they shape human adaptive features, especially choice architecture and those that produce identity, within-group favoritism and between-group conflict. Furthermore, he is fascinated by the ways in which we adjudicate perceived advantages, disadvantages and deservedness. In particular, he is interested in the psychology of “fairness” and the tendencies to either side with or against those perceived as weak or disadvantaged. If such biases exist, and there is good reason to think that they do, then how a group is framed in terms of an advantage or a disadvantage will play an important role in our sympathies.

by Hamdan Goumaa

The Sudan is considered a microcosm of Africa in terms of its ethnic and religious diversity as well as its geography, which dictate multiple livelihoods and cultures. The competition between these distinct groups over land and other resources has always been a source of conflict, albeit manageable through traditional methods of conflict resolution. However, with the emergence of the nation state, the political system and the power struggle among the elites of different ethnic origins as well as the marginalization of certain groups have lead to deeper divisions between these ethnic entities.

After 50 years of war was ended by the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) in 2005 and the cession of South Sudan in July 2011, rather than going into an era of peace and stability Sudan entered a phase of more complex wars and violent conflicts. The new conflicts are now interstate between Sudan and South Sudan and intrastate within the two countries. Indeed, conflicts have emerged even at the local level in what can be described as intra-ethnic conflicts, emerging from within a tribe or one ethnic group.

The approach of the international community in dealing with these conflicts is based on diplomacy and using the “carrot-and-stick” to shepherd the two countries into stopping hostilities or even referring some of the conflicts to courts of arbitration and negotiation lead by regional and international personalities. If the final goal is to stop wars and transform these countries into democratic states that respect human rights, equality, justice, and freedom, then paving the way for a system of governance that will eventually address these social grievances can only be done through a more diverse approach. The tendency of the United States and its allies to count on the existing regime in Khartoum to embark on serious reforms toward democracy and stability is illusive. It is even risky to adopt such a policy because it will threaten the very existence of the remaining Sudan as a united country. Putting all the eggs in the current regime’s basket is dangerous gambling.

It is clear that the declared position of some U.S. and other Western officials on Sudan is based on the belief that the stability of the country and the region is largely dependent on keeping the current regime in power. Recently, the U.S. special envoy to Sudan Ambassador Lyman said, “frankly we do not want a regime change – we want to see freedom and democracy [in Sudan] but not necessarily via Arab Spring.” This position received criticism on the ground for sending the wrong message and emboldening the Khartoum government as it continues aggression of its own people.

Many Sudanese civil society organizations as well as other concerned parties have voiced their fears of the possible disintegration of Sudan and fears that the country is on the verge of collapse. They believe that if the current political and economic situation continues to deteriorate, as is currently the case, it is highly likely that the governing regime will lose control of the country, leading to chaos. Sudan is already referred to by many observers as a failed state, a situation that is only getting worse with the new wars in South Kordofan and the Blue Nile, which resulted in mass displacements and instability among the populations of these areas. According to UNHCR reports, “South Sudan hosts some 200,000 refugees, including more than 170,000 in Unity and Upper Nile states.” It is worth mentioning that the rebel coalition known as Sudan Revolutionary Front (SRF), which brought together for the first time Darfur movements that were once split into small factions, is now controlling 40 percent of the new international border between Sudan and South Sudan. It is also reported that the regime’s armed forces have recently suffered serious defeats by the SRF, whose rebels are surrounding Kadougli, the capital of Southern Kordofan state.

Adding fuel to the fire, the regime started a war with South Sudan, creating a dire situation in the border areas in terms of accessibility to basic consumer goods and other sources of livelihood. The regime announced an emergency situation along the border areas, blocking cross border trade between the inhabitants, and declared South Sudan an enemy state. All this stemmed from losing 70 percent of the oil revenue after the secession of the South, doubled by South Sudan’s halting of oil production. Darfur is still on fire, without any progress on the latest Doha agreements, and conflict and related crimes are still reported there on daily basis. The protests and demonstrations of last summer, which broke out in the capital city of Khartoum and many other places in the country due to the austerity measures declared by the government, are an indication of the complete failure of the Sudanese government’s economic policies.

Despite the recent UN resolution 2046 that urges the governments of Sudan and South Sudan to settle the unresolved issues between them, to this day there are no prospects of implementing the agreement. Abyei is a case in point: the government is still using it as a bargaining chip while pretending to protect the Messeriya interest. This is evident considering that the Messeriya have never been engaged in any serious way to participate in deciding their position, hence there is a wide dissatisfaction among them on the manner in which the government is dealing with the issue. The bombardment of civilians inside the South Sudan territory on November 20 and 21, in addition to the recent foiled coup attempt lead by leading figures in the military and security apparatus of the regime, are strong evidence of serious cracks.

It has become clear that managing and resolving the many and complex challenges facing the people of Sudan at this juncture will not be realized by changing the current regime. It would be of high risk to count on this regime to maintain stability and unity in Sudan. This is a critical period to bring different Sudanese political organizations, academics, representatives of various regions, and ethnic groups to explore possible alternative arrangements to ensure peace and stability. They must adopt and implement tools and methods of conflict resolution and transformation to analyze and address conflicts at different levels, taking into consideration all stake holders. This is imperative in order to address the sources of conflict and move to peacebuilding and conflict transformation as a prerequisite to stability, hence having a political body or structure that can fill the gap and preserve the integrity and unity of Sudan.

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Hamdan Goumaa graduated from the Khartoum University, Sudan, with a Bachelor’s degree in economics and political science, and earned an MA from the Monterey Institute of International Studies in International Negotiation and Conflict Resolution. Hamdan is a mid-career professional with more than 16 years of experience in the field of development management. He has worked for both international NGOs and the United Nations in Africa and South East Asia, where he worked primarily with programs designed to address the stabilization and integration needs of the refugees, internally displaced persons (IDPs), and demobilized fighters.

by Barbara Moser-Mercer

Most native speakers of English assume that English transcends culture and is capable of expressing concepts in a culturally neutral and objective way. Conflict, conflict resolution and peacebuilding, however, are characterized by imbalances and shifts in power relations often expressed in emotionally charged language that reflects the trauma experienced by the parties in conflict. When disaster strikes local populations do not, and cannot, automatically shift to English simply because it is the language of aid and humanitarian assistance. As humanitarian action has become intimately associated with Northern and Western values, and as humanitarian actors are increasingly seen by those they set out to help as being disconnected from the reality on the ground, the almost universal use of English as the language of humanitarian action undermines the goals and objectives it is designed to promote and serve. Especially in areas where the humanitarian enterprise has come to encompass activities such as peacebuilding and transitional justice, rather than restrict itself to the more traditional agenda of providing immediate humanitarian relief in the wake of natural or man-made disasters, the emphasis on English as often the sole language of communication is increasingly seen as an expression of superiority and a lack of willingness to engage with local capacity. A new form of imbalance in power relations then ensues, this time between aid agencies and the local population: This jeopardizes the core humanitarian principles of neutrality and impartiality and blithely ignores the principle of respect for local language and customs.

Study after study recognizes the need for humanitarian action to engage with locals in order to build the trust that is essential for long-term solutions. As the humanitarian enterprise becomes more and more institutionalized, with targets to meet, internal procedures to respect, and at times political agendas to pursue, its ability to engage on the ground beyond providing immediate, front-line relief is jeopardized. The prevailing English-only approach reinforces the image of humanitarian actors being subservient to their organization’s mission and short-term goals, rather than in understanding the complexities of the local context and leveraging local resources to develop culturally-embedded and consequently more lasting solutions.

Neutrality and impartiality do not in and of themselves prohibit engagement with the local population; instead, understanding the language(s) and culture(s) of the conflicting parties or the population struck by natural disaster is an essential vector in upholding the core humanitarian principles, as they allow humanitarian actors to obtain an in-depth understanding of the field context and to leverage local resources to manage emergencies. While humanitarian organizations are beginning to recognize the importance of engaging local capacity, complex emergencies have them revert to standard operating procedure: communicating only amongst themselves and in English. And yet, good crisis response is highly context-specific and civilians in conflict and post-conflict contexts see good relationships with local communities, in-depth understanding of the local context and of the local population, an ability to act rapidly with clear impartiality, and efficient use of resources as key attributes of successful peacekeeping.

A number of aid agencies are making a concerted effort to source locally, involve the local population in meaningful and productive ways, and commit to acquiring a rudimentary knowledge of the local language(s) and culture(s). For many, however, this remains a part of their official mission and mandate that is often neglected as building local trust and learning about language and culture requires time and thus eats into increasingly lean budgets. Language training and training of translators and interpreters hardly ever feature as line items in the budgets of international aid organizations and thus do not specifically contribute to reaching the targets the organizations must meet to ensure future funding.

On the ground – and thus removed from headquarters – aid workers must make do with what they have: usually a very small number of locals who speak some English in addition to their native tongue(s) and who are willing and ready to be engaged as “interpreters,” often also in an effort to better their own situation. They are members of their own local community, or internally displaced persons (IDP) community, and as such are integrated in the social fabric and culture that they are asked to “interpret” for those representing the international aid organizations. While this may initially present no problem other than the search for suitable equivalent expressions in English of concepts that are closely embedded in the local culture, such lay interpreters soon encounter conflictual situations with regard to their role as intermediaries. Expressing local realities and personal histories in a neutral and non-judgmental way in a language few master at a level where nuances can be expressed, and ultimately understood by those relying on interpretation, exposes these interpreters to pressures from both sides – their local community as well as the international community.

There are high expectations regarding the quality of interpretation as users believe that anyone who has a rudimentary knowledge of another language can interpret. What is critical, however, is that engaging these interpreters is often based on the assumption that interpreters work for one side, the hand that pays. Interpreters then unwittingly become allies in the search for information and are engaged in decision-making, which in turn breeds mistrust in the community from which they come. They are no longer considered neutral conveyers of necessary information that will allow the international aid community to function more effectively on the ground, but are seen as siding with the foreigner. Struggling to carve out a role that neither alienates the foreign aid workers nor their own community, these untrained interpreters soon realize they are paying a high price for their skills: Failing to meet the expectations of the international community will deprive them of the opportunity to better their lives and the lives of the members of their community, but losing the trust of their own community will deprive them of their moorings and expose them to acts of reprisal. During interpretation, glaring mistakes, substantial omissions, additions, and shifts in meaning will occur and while they are often considered a consequence of inadequate knowledge of English, they can also represent strategies interpreters have to adopt to cope with a complex scenario, where no distinction is made between the role of a language and cultural adviser and that of a true interpreter.

For the humanitarian enterprise to implement more serious engagement with the local communities it serves, as has been identified in the Cluster approach that characterizes the reform of humanitarian action during the last decade, thus requires investment not only in providing the traditional essentials of food, water, and sanitation, but in building confidence and trust with the local communities. This presupposes a long-term commitment to the humanitarian action/capacity-building/ development cycle, a critical assessment of power relations that are sustained through language at every level of the humanitarian enterprise and ultimately in development, and to the training of interpreters whose role as neutral and impartial conduits between the local communities and cultures and the international aid community is well understood and respected by all. This will enhance humanitarian effectiveness on the ground as locals are truly perceived as valuable and respected partners, and allow interpreters to provide their service respecting core humanitarian principles without fear of reprisal from their own communities. Rather than being forced to exit to ensure their own survival once the conflict is resolved, their communication skills will be instrumental in successfully navigating the post-conflict and development phase and in preventing a return to conflict.

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by Bryan Weiner

Those were the only five words that I could speak in Gujarati. What is your name? The most basic phrase in any language. But it was enough to send the group of kids we met at the Jesuit boarding school in Bhiloda, Gujarat into gales of laughter. I was the strange white guy with the camera who was clumsily attempting to speak the language. But words are only one form of communication, and there is a language that runs much deeper than the meaningless phonemes and morphemes that we produce in a clumsy attempt to express ourselves and connect with our fellow human beings.

I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Paraguay for two years and faced many of the same language barriers there when I was starting out. While I spoke a decent level of Spanish, the people in my rural community mostly spoke the second national language, Guaraní. I felt completely lost. From previous experiences working in schools I always felt a natural affinity with children. But in this community, none of the young children spoke any Spanish, so I had no idea how I was going to communicate with them or how I was ever going to successfully complete my work.

It all began with that first phrase, though. Mb’aichapa nde rera in Guaraní. What is your name? Che che rera Bryan. Mara nom Bryan che. Gales of laughter. The ice was broken. I shortly found out that I could communicate very clearly with the kids, even though my Guaraní was still very limited at that point. Children speak a language that is often lost to adults. It is a language of gestures, smiles, giggles, games; true heart and direct emotion. Words aren’t necessary (children often have a limited grasp of them anyway). I noticed this even when thinking back on the children that I used to work with in elementary schools in the U.S.

I very quickly became comfortable with all of the kids in my community. We bonded over games, a smile and a hug. While I spent a very brief time with the kids in the school in Bhiloda, I noticed the same dynamic beginning to form. There was initial giggling over my foreignness and my attempt at a few phrases in Gujarati, but we were very quickly able to communicate through smiles, laughs, and gestures, and it almost seemed to be a deeper level of communication than that which I often have with other adults, irrespective of the language.

There may be something more to this whole notion than just the silliness of playful communication with children. Are we losing the true meaning of communication through the creation of language with the goal of greater precision? Do adults lose the ability to speak with their hearts the way that children do? Does language help us connect as humans or does it tear us apart and give us the weapons to do damage to that which we consider the other; the people or groups that we are told to marginalize? Does language itself, and the over 6,000 different ones spoken today in the world, create another barrier between people?

On our trip to India we investigated the aftermath of the 2002 communal violence that pitted Hindus and Muslims against each other (or more precisely, Hindu fundamentalists against the entire Muslim minority population in the state). The anger was fanned and the violence was triggered by the fiery rhetoric of the Chief Minister, Narendra Modi, who said that people had the right to express their rage. More than 2,000 people were killed in these riots and thousands more were forced to flee their homes, leaving Gujarat a completely divided and segregated society.

But, in the school in Bhiloda, the students were in harmony, despite coming from fairly diverse backgrounds. It is simplistic and overly sentimental to glorify the innocence of childhood; children do have a great capacity for cruelty. Kids may understand the racism delivered to them by society, an upper-caste child may know that he can’t enter into the house of his Dalit best friend, but they haven’t yet internalized the adult language of division that seeks to put everyone into their own separate categories: Hindu, Muslim, tribal, Dalit, foreigner, white, black, etc. With division, it is much easier to control; hate is more manageable than love.

Maybe it’s time that we unlearn some of our language and focus on the heart behind it. Tamaru Naam Shu Che?

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Bryan Weiner is currently working towards his Master of Public Administration from the Monterey Institute for International Studies. He received his Bachelors of Arts in Cinema Television Critical Studies from the University of Southern California in 2005. His interests include human rights, with a particular emphasis on international LGBT and immigrant and refugee rights, conflict resolution, Latin America, education and youth development. His work experience includes serving as an Early Elementary Education Peace Corps Volunteer in Paraguay and several positions at a charter high school in inner-city Los Angeles, most recently working as a guidance counselor with at-risk youth.

Table of Contents

From the Editor’s Desk
By Kyrstie Lane, Managing Editor, Reflections

Pedagogy of Conflict: Every Step Counts
By Pushpa Iyer, Director, Center for Conflict Studies

Reducing Armed Violence: It Is More Than the Guns
By Ed Laurance

Prison gangs and the study of ethnic roots: When is the search for identity a criminal enterprise?
By Julie Reynolds

Collaboration: An exercise of humanity
By Sonja C. Koehler

Many Peaces: An Interview with Jim Needham, Artist
By Jim Needham

Picks of the Quarter

Editorial Team

Pushpa Iyer, Editor-in-Chief
Kyrstie Lane, Managing Editor
Emily McLaughlin, Associate Editor
Rebecca Walters, Website Design