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“The word ‘peace’ has become hollow. It has lost its meaning,” said one of the participants. “That may feel like the case,” said another, “but we cannot let the voice of despair and violence re-appropriate our language for the world we hope to build.”

This excerpt came from a recent gathering of Israelis and Palestinian peacebuilders meeting in Istanbul, Turkey. The gathering was billed as a “consultation” of bi-communal field experts. Over the course of three days, twenty participants—10 Israelis and 10 Palestinians, ranging from their late twenties to their early sixties—acted as a think-tank to envision the seemingly impossible, the reemergence of a cross-border peace movement in Israel/Palestine.

The founder of Karuna Center for Peacebuilding, Dr. Paula Green, organized this gathering with one goal in mind: to assess what kind of bi-communal programming would be useful for this region. In other words, what kinds of trainings or actions could bring Israelis and Palestinians together in joint cooperation under today’s reality? What could be helpful now, when the prospects for meaningful resolutions are not promising and the political will of the leaders is not inspiring?

As irrelevant as co-existence work may often seem to a cynical person, this was a battle-tested group of peace workers. Most, if not everyone, assembled had spent the better part of the past two decades invested in some type of bi-communal work. Friends Across Borders, Givat HavivaNeve Shalom/Wahat AlSalamEden AssociationKids for Peace, Face to Face, Maharag and AlWATAN are just a sample of the organizations represented in the room.

There is a distressing statistic that less than 1% of Israelis and Palestinians ever meet face to face for the purpose of a cooperative activity. Perhaps it is not surprising. For both political and social reasons, most Israelis and Palestinians do not base their impression of the other through personal contact. Palestinians, for example, face extraordinary pressure to refuse participation, specifically bi-communal activity with Israelis, as part of a national anti-normalization boycott. Several Palestinians invited to this consultation had to decline for fear of losing their jobs or being labeled as traitors or collaborators.

For Israelis, there is little incentive to participate in bi-communal work. For reasons including the construction of the wall/separation barrier, the diminished physical threat from Palestinians in recent years has sedated the Israeli public to the point that they no longer see the conflict as an existential threat. The desire to meet or work in partnership with Palestinians has lost its sense of urgency and relevance, at least in the short term. The group all agreed, however, that this “bubble consciousness” contributes to a growing sense of apathy and fear that, in turn, greatly reduces interest in bi-communal activities.

Brainstorming sessions: risk and possibility
The group spent time examining what has worked in the peacebuilding field over the years, including the specific characteristics of why certain groups have lasted. A powerful example of effective, inspiring and sustainable bi-communal activity is the work of Bereaved Parents’ Circle, a joint support group of Palestinian and Israeli parents who have lost children from violence in the conflict.

But what makes a project like this effective and sustainable? One could say these parents are taking huge risks, but they are also meeting real human needs. Encouraging Israelis and Palestinians to cross boundaries, literally and figuratively, has to resonate on a deep enough level to motivate taking the risk—the type of risk that makes it so plainly obvious that we are all in this together. Is it precisely these types of encounters, which wake us up to our interdependence, that this consultation was geared to uncover.


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One specific idea that emerged during our brainstorming sessions was the role of a new third party—not a third party as a moderator, but one with high stakes in the conflict. We convened a discussion convened around the simple question: “Can joint German-Palestinian-Israeli dialogue make a difference to our future?” The links between German history, the formation of Israeli society, and present-day Palestinian realities are well documented from the Israeli perspective in Avrum Burg’s book, The Holocaust is Over, We Must Rise From Its Ashes.

The question of the German voice in this conflict piqued genuine curiosity. If organized and facilitated appropriately, perhaps the German narrative, in the context of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, could enable parties to directly confront issues of shame and blame in an unprecedented manner. Who knows what the process would ultimately yield, but these were the kind of imaginative and risk-taking suggestions that emerged.

Other brainstorming sessions focused around different but interrelated topics, based on questions raised by the participants. Some of these included:
  • What if we did all live in one state?
  • What are the lessons to learn from the success of Hamas and the Settler movements?
  • What is the role of Diaspora Jews and Palestinians in encouraging bi-communal work?
  • How can we build a constructive struggle to end the occupation?
  • What are the criteria for an effective peacebuilding program?
On some levels, most of these conversations were not new. But on another level, few could say they had been able to talk about these subjects with peacebuilding practitioners from both sides. The amount of expertise in the room was demonstrated less by what was actually spoken, but more by what was implicitly understood. The lack of defensiveness was noticeable, but even more striking was the sheer absence of blame. Resisting the urge to blame is a quality that cannot be understated in any context, but particularly in bi-communal work.

Next steps toward a reality of peace


With help from the facilitators, the group was guided along a certain trajectory. By the final day, the conversation had shifted to the practical. The challenge was clear. With support from Karuna Center, would members of this delegation be able to take ownership of a project to train more peacebuilders in this region? Could more people, on both sides, be mentored and supported to further this critical goal of meeting the other for the purposes of shared cooperation? Were there others out there even interested?

The answer was a unanimous, resounding, almost self-evident “yes.” But more questions remained. Could this kind of cross-border training be done given the political and social barriers? Not easily. Would there be money for it? It would have to be raised. Where would it happen? It would have to be researched. There were no simple answers and no template of success to work from. All Karuna Center could offer was its experience in other conflict regions and its limited resources to help push this into a reality. It was up to these twenty individuals to be “the ones we are waiting for.”

That was the story of the Middle East Consultation in Istanbul. The act of asking this group the question, “what kinds of programs would be useful in this region?” was actually the beginning of the answer. The kind of program constructed and run by people who’ve been working tirelessly for years to advance a cooperative, interdependent, bi-communal future—that is the kind of program we need.

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Ezra Weinberg (in photo, left) is a Rabbi living in New York City currently serving as the spiritual leader for Congregation Mishkan Ha’am (Sanctuary of the People) in Hastings on Hudson, NY. In 2003, under the guidance of Dr. Paula Green, he was the first student to get an MA in “Conflict Transformation” at the School for International Training. His research and volunteer work with rabbis and other religious leaders in Israel/Palestine inspired him to pursue the rabbinate in service of bridging faiths and building peace. 

 
 
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October, Istanbul, Turkey: I have been meeting with a group of 20 carefully selected Israelis and Palestinians for a consultation to explore possibilities for future peacebuilding initiatives in the region. I know almost all the participants through former programs within Israel/Palestine or through their attendance at the CONTACT annual peacebuilding program at the School for International Training. It has been over 10 years since I had seen some of the group members, who include both Jewish and Palestinian Israelis as well as West Bank Palestinians. Group members found it very meaningful to meet each other again, as most had been connected through common networks. Currently, cross-border work hardly exists, so there was a special sense of pleasure and inspiration in being together.

My co-trainer for the consultation was Carol Kasbari, a Palestinian Israeli from Jerusalem, who led the group in a process called Open Space, wherein group members suggest topics for exploration that take place at scheduled hours throughout the day. These topics included developing relevant peacebuilding training programs for the region, ways to expand support within Israel for a future peace process, media campaigns for peace, the role of Jews and Palestinians in the diaspora in promoting peace, and lessons learned in organizing from ideological movements.

In our final day together, we focused on a few specific topics for long-range planning, and many suggestions for future action emerged. Among these is the vision of a training program that Karuna Center would offer each year for Israelis and Palestinians—partnering with members of this consultation, and engaging some of them in teaching so that the program can be carried locally in the future. It’s a challenging undertaking in a difficult political climate. Participants feel that it would contribute to the ongoing development of the region, offer skills to move peace initiatives forward, and engage newer generations in keeping hope and inter-communal connections alive.

Our only regret was that one participant, representing a community initiative in Gaza, was unable to manage passage to Turkey. Although he had all the right letters, documents, and tickets, exiting Gaza is extremely difficult. We kept an empty chair for him in our first morning go-round as a symbol of our grief at his absence.

All the participants present in Istanbul expressed gratitude for the opportunity to discuss difficult issues together and to be in a venue removed from the tensions of their daily lives. They felt the consultation re-inspired them to continue to press for peace, with one of the group members reminding us that “giving up is not an option.” The members of this consultation, all mature and deeply experienced in intergroup relations, did not argue about politics or engage in blame. They understood that the differences in this circle were not the cause of conflict. All of them oppose oppression, discrimination, and occupation. Their capacity to be together was a poignant reminder of what is possible, yet at the same time, a sad reminder of much that they have lost.

 
 
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Five young men and a woman file into our midst and take their seats in a row. Their teacher stands in front of them and calls the roll. He gets to one young man who’s dressed in traditional costume. He berates the student for appearing in such dress and dismisses him. The young man next to the dismissed student stands,confronts the teacher angrily and follows his fellow student out of the class. The teacher continues with the roll call. Another student stands, and respectfully explains to the teacher that the student in traditional garb is required to dress that way during his period of circumcision. In older days youth in the process of circumcision did not come to school, but now they’re required to. If he wore regular clothes he would be in trouble at home. “Please, respect his culture and allow him to return.” The teacher coughs gruffly and assents, and the roll call continues.

The scene I describe above was a role-play—the last moment in a workshop for journalists of grassroots radio stations in the Casamance region of southern Senegal, West Africa. In July, I traveled to the Casamance to facilitate workshops as a Karuna Center associate, practicing ways to weave ideas about peacebuilding into these journalists’ radio programming. This particular role-play followed a day of practice in developing a list of ideas and messages they see as key to communicate in their stressed local communities—and figuring out how to communicate these messages concretely through skits, soap operas, and talk shows. The role-play demonstrated at least 3 ideas the groups had articulated:

  1. respect for the many different cultures in the Casamance is absolutely necessary for community healing after 25 years of violence (see below);
  2. standing up to actively support people who are marginalized because of a difference can have multiple positive effects; and
  3. being given a chance to “save face” is important in the process of acknowledging wrong-doing.

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Though the Casamance is the agricultural breadbasket of Senegal, its poverty rates are among the highest in the country. Its inhabitants are geographically and ethnically closer to neighboring Gambia and Guinea than they are to the rest of Senegal, and there is a widespread sense among people of the region that the government up north in Dakar, the national capital, exploits Casamancais resources unjustly. In the 1980s, the Casamancais people began protesting, at first peacefully, for better treatment from Dakar. As their peaceful marches were aggressively suppressed by the central government, some young Casamancais began forming a group of combatants committed to Casamance’s independence from the rest of Senegal. This led to a low-level civil war which has lasted over 25 years and which has brought about vast population displacement, the destruction of infrastructure and a general lack of development, landmines in roads and farmland, and the killing and rape of villagers by both rebels and the national military.

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Karuna Center was invited to provide training in peacebuilding practice for 40 people representing 21 Comites de Paix (Peace Committees). These Comites, formed as part of grassroots peace action projects led byWorld Education, comprise leaders of religious, educational, political, women’s, youth and other groups. The representatives we trained would in turn become the Comites’ own local trainers in peacebuilding. Following three days of training for representatives of the Comites (two led by me, and one by World Education), I led a two-day workshop with 40 journalists from local community radio stations that work in synergy with the Comites de Paix.

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The 5 days of work overflowed with energy, invention, warmth, creativity, and humor. A central theme throughout our work was the problems that emerge when displaced people return to their villages as signs of peace accumulate. Some are people who were forced to flee for safety, whose lands may have been used by others in their absence; and more at issue, others were rebels/combatants who were once members of the communities, and went on a mission of pride on behalf of all Casamancais 25 years ago, but who have in various ways participated in the death and damage that have affected their own community members since. They fear returning, and rightly so. There were several people in the group who had lost family members or faced death themselves—and at the same time, the returning combatants are the family members of others.

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Three days after the first workshop ended, I went back to the rural town of Oussouye where we had spent our workshop days, to sit in on workshops our participants had planned in the 3 intervening days and were now facilitating for other members of their Comites. It was remarkable to witness the immediate transformation of ideas about conflict, organized into drawings and exercises in a folder brought from Karuna Center, make their way into the many other cultures of the Casamance who sat together in the room—to be taken apart, realigned, tested, added to and subtracted from. An idea is transformed each time a person entertains it, and people in different cultures entertain ideas within the lenses of their own experience. I think about how the ideas of peacebuilding have affected how I live, as well as other people who have accompanied me in recent years, and I feel hopeful, in a humble, cautious way.

 
 
Five young men and a woman file into our midst and take their seats in a row. Their teacher stands in front of them and calls the roll. He gets to one young man who’s dressed in traditional costume. He berates the student for appearing in such dress and dismisses him. The young man next to the dismissed student stands, confronts the teacher angrily and follows his fellow student out of the class. The teacher continues with the roll call. Another student stands, and respectfully explains to the teacher that the student in traditional garb is required to dress that way during his period of circumcision. In older days youth in the process of circumcision did not come to school, but now they’re required to. If he wore regular clothes he would be in trouble at home. “Please, respect his culture and allow him to return.” The teacher coughs gruffly and assents, and the roll call continues.
The scene I describe above was a role-play—the last moment in a workshop for journalists of grassroots radio stations in the Casamance region of southern Senegal, West Africa. In July, I traveled to the Casamance to facilitate workshops as a Karuna Center associate, practicing ways to weave ideas about peacebuilding into these journalists’ radio programming. This particular role-play followed a day of practice in developing a list of ideas and messages they see as key to communicate in their stressed local communities—and figuring out how to communicate these messages concretely through skits, soap operas, and talk shows. The role-play demonstrated at least 3 ideas the groups had articulated:

  • respect for the many different cultures in the Casamance is absolutely necessary for community healing after 25 years of violence (see below);
  • standing up to actively support people who are marginalized because of a difference can have multiple positive effects; and...
  • being given a chance to “save face” is important in the process of acknowledging wrong-doing.

Though the Casamance is the agricultural breadbasket of Senegal, its poverty rates are among the highest in the country. Its inhabitants are geographically and ethnically closer to neighboring Gambia and Guinea than they are to the rest of Senegal, and there is a widespread sense among people of the region that the government up north in Dakar, the national capital, exploits Casamancais resources unjustly. In the 1980s, the Casamancais people began protesting, at first peacefully, for better treatment from Dakar. As their peaceful marches were aggressively suppressed by the central government, some young Casamancais began forming a group of combatants committed to Casamance’s independence from the rest of Senegal. This led to a low-level civil war which has lasted over 25 years and which has brought about vast population displacement, the destruction of infrastructure and a general lack of development, landmines in roads and farmland, and the killing and rape of villagers by both rebels and the national military.
Karuna Center was invited to provide training in peacebuilding practice for 40 people representing 21 Comites de Paix (Peace Committees). These Comites, formed as part of grassroots peace action projects led by World Education, comprise leaders of religious, educational, political, women’s, youth and other groups. The representatives we trained would in turn become the Comites’ own local trainers in peacebuilding. Following three days of training for representatives of the Comites (two led by me, and one by World Education), I led a two-day workshop with 40 journalists from local community radio stations that work in synergy with the Comites de Paix.

The 5 days of work overflowed with energy, invention, warmth, creativity, and humor. A central theme throughout our work was the problems that emerge when displaced people return to their villages as signs of peace accumulate. Some are people who were forced to flee for safety, whose lands may have been used by others in their absence; and more at issue, others were rebels/combatants who were once members of the communities, and went on a mission of pride on behalf of all Casamancais 25 years ago, but who have in various ways participated in the death and damage that have affected their own community members since. They fear returning, and rightly so. There were several people in the group who had lost family members or faced death themselves—and at the same time, the returning combatants are the family members of others.

Three days after the first workshop ended, I went back to the rural town of Oussouye where we had spent our workshop days, to sit in on workshops our participants had planned in the 3 intervening days and were now facilitating for other members of their Comites. It was remarkable to witness the immediate transformation of ideas about conflict, organized into drawings and exercises in a folder brought from Karuna Center, make their way into the many other cultures of the Casamance who sat together in the room—to be taken apart, realigned, tested, added to and subtracted from. An idea is transformed each time a person entertains it, and people in different cultures entertain ideas within the lenses of their own experience. I think about how the ideas of peacebuilding have affected how I live, as well as other people who have accompanied me in recent years, and I feel hopeful, in a humble, cautious way.
 
 
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Check out the latest newsletter of CONTACT’s work in South Asia: Dialogue Without Borders  – Fall 2010 (PDF).

CONTACT, or Conflict Transformation Across Cultures, is a training program for emerging leaders from around the world who are engaged in responding to conflict, promoting social change, and building sustainable peace.  Karuna Center and CONTACT work closely together by sharing faculty, referring students, developing materials, creating visibility, and enhancing knowledge.