Nine and a half hours of training in the sweltering heat of
Juba’s early rains is probably more than enough for most people.
But for the twenty-one of us who came to do unarmed,
nonviolent civilian peacekeeping in South Sudan, in the middle of a civil war,
there’s a bit more to worry about than the humidity.
We’ve spent these first few days going a bit through
security risks – abductions, grenades, targeted attacks, and the near-constant
presence of small arms such as pistols and assault rifles. In this, we’ve
learned that much like martial arts, the best defense against these risks is to
avoid confrontation in the first place.
As unarmed civilian peacekeepers, our duty is to the
communities we serve. We’re not content to wait patiently behind massive walls
edged with razor wire. We don’t carry weapons to defend ourselves, nor do we
travel in convoys with force protection accompaniment.
Rather, we rely on our relationships within the community to
keep us safe and help us in our work. If the Bible teaches to “Love thy
neighbor,” then the training so far has definitely focused on “Know thy
neighbor…and make sure she knows you.”
Not just your neighbor, but your community – the various
shop owners in various towns, the district government officials, the police,
the military, the boys in the cattle camps, the women at the well, even the
armed actors on the other side.
Indeed, the guys with guns, from either side, are some of
the most important contacts we have. It’s important not only that we remain
nonpartisan in our work, but that we remind others of our nonpartisanship. We do
this not only by working with all sides but by making sure everyone knows we
work with all sides.
There are definitely performative aspects in this. It’s not
enough to be nonpartisan and nonviolent. Instead, we have to broadcast –
through our words and deeds in every aspect of every day to as many people as
possible – that we are dedicated to reducing violent potential and safeguarding
vulnerable populations.
Practicing Fear
Everyone has to start somewhere, and on our second day of
training, that start was with us, as individuals. We had to break ourselves
down to build ourselves up.
That’s because one of the greatest dangers to the
organization and to our personal safety will most likely not come through an
external threat, but through personal mistake. It is all too possible, after
weeks in the field, after bearing witness to fights, death, displacement, and
extreme trauma, that it will all get too much. That instead of bending, we will
break.
The first step is controlling oneself in the face of danger.
Focus on the breath, reduce the pulse. Above all, remain calm. The second is to
recognize the danger within you, the levels that can build and build until
trauma has forced you so far into a corner that you have no choice but to lash
out.
Without going into too much detail, we were pushed, hit,
threatened – put in simulated situations that should frighten us and asked to
remain calm. It’s the training that hopefully will prepare us for similar threats
in the field.
There is fear in these scenarios, even if they’re just
simulations. But by focusing on one’s breath, by turning inward, by finding
that core inside of you, that the threats, the hits, the abuse and humility
becomes so much white noise.
Practicing Trauma
Indeed, fear was easier to confront – the external –
compared to what came next. We had to face down our demons and thank them for
hurting us.
Each of us was asked to remember previous trauma. Something
someone said to us that hurt so deeply, that even if we forgave or forgot long
ago, left a spiritual scar in its place.
We shared simple phrases with the team that we associated
with those events, and then we had to walk the gauntlet.
Think of some of the most hurtful things you’ve ever heard,
and then think of some of the most hurtful you yourself have ever said, whether
intentionally or not.
You’re stupid. You’re lazy. You’re fucking useless. I don’t
want to see you again. I never cared for you.
We each had our phrase, and we had to walk between the lines
of our team members while they looked us dead in the eye and repeated the
phrase back to us. Twenty other people reminding you of your trauma and
throwing it in your face, and after each one, we had to thank them for the
pain.
For me, the anxiety skyrocketed the closer I drew to my
turn. As I began the walk, each word cut deep. But as I continued on, it had
less and less of an effect on me. The trauma was still there, but it no longer
owned me like it once had.
And that’s important. Because the most dangerous time could
come from when someone inadvertently touches that trauma. We lash out, and
conflict ensues. By accepting trauma, being grateful for it, it can no longer
hurt us.
Practicing Meaning
Finally, I’ll leave with a question that was asked of us. “What
is one action you have done in your life that left you feeling content and
helped you to feel real meaning?”
It’s a question we can all ask ourselves, something that we
don’t often do. When was that last time? What was it that you did?
Chances are, it came about through helping someone. Humans
are social creatures. We thrive in our relationships and connecting with one
another.
So ask yourself, “When was the last time I did something
that made me feel I had done something meaningful?”
Then ask, “What’s the next thing I can do to feel that
again?”
