Today, September 16, marks the 28th anniversary of the massacre at Sabra and Shatila. Assisted by the Israeli Army that cordoned off the Palestinian refugee camps on the outskirts of Beirut, armed men – members of the Lebanese Christian militias – entered the camps, and remained inside for two days during which they massacred the camps’ unarmed Lebanese and Palestinian residents.
Estimates on the number of victims vary with international sources citing the number at 800 and Palestinian sources reporting up to 3,500 dead.
No one has been held accountable for the crimes the UN General Assembly called an act of genocide. Until the truth is known about the criminal acts on all sides of this conflict, how can Palestinians, Lebanese and Israelis heal?
My friend, David Zarembka, leads a peace initiative in the Great Lakes Region of East Africa. His work and observations in post-war areas offer glimmers of hope for a true peace between Palestinians and Israelis.
In an article describing transformative processes at Alternatives to Violence (AVP) workshops in Rwanda and Burundi, David described an experience of victim and perpetrator coming together:
Venancie Nyirabyimana is a Tutsi survivor of the 1994 Rwanda genocide. In 2007 she attended a Healing and Rebuilding Our Communities (HROC) workshop...She said that before the workshop, "I didn't think I could ever forgive the killers." The workshop was also attended by the Hutu man whom she had witnessed killing her two brothers with a machete and her younger sister with a spear. He had just been released from prison. On the third day of the workshop, there is a trust walk done in pairs and one person is blindfolded and the other leads the "blind" person around, then they switch places. Here is what Venancie said when she was, by chance, paired up with the man who killed her siblings:
I remember the trust walk when the person who killed my family was my partner. I was shaking because my partner was a known killer and very strong. I though he might throw me down. But he also had fear and he took me gently, kindly. I asked, "Will you lead me in peace?" After the trust walk with him, I felt it was not good to stay in my grief and had no fear against him.
Link to five minute video about this workshop here.
One Western observer who witnessed this extraordinary moment wrote:
When you come from a place of comfort and security, where there was always someone to tuck you in at night, trust is easily built because there is no reason not to trust. In Rwanda, there is every reason not to trust. To behold a shy, widowed woman close her eyes and offer her hand to the man that destroyed her once-happy life was singularly beautiful. This small movement, this slight touch was everything. You imagine there is that kind of strength and benevolence in the world, but you rarely get to witness it. That day in September, I saw a world transformed through the eyes of every Rwandan in that room, a transformation in the richest, most profound sense of the word.
Since the inception of the workshops in 1994, six principles have emerged:
In every person, there is something that is good.
Each person and society has the inner capacity to heal, and an inherent intuition of how to recover from trauma. Sometimes the wounds are so profound that people or communities need support to rediscover that inner capacity.
Both victims and perpetrators of violence can experience trauma and its after-effects.
Healing from trauma requires that a person's inner good and wisdom is sought and shared with others. It is through this effort that trust can begin to be restored.
When violence has been experienced at both a personal level and a community level, efforts to heal and rebuild the country must also happen at both the individual and community levels.
Healing individuals from trauma and building peace between groups are deeply connected. It is not possible to do one without the other. Therefore, trauma healing and peace building efforts must happen simultaneously.
There is much to be learned from the survivors of conflict in Rwanda and Burundi and applied to a post-conflict era in Palestine and Israel. While living in Lebanon in 2008-09, I attended several discussions sponsored by Uman D&R, a civic organization that is promoting exchange between victims and perpetrators of Lebanon's 15-year civil war. Among the organization's goals are:
- Recalling the violence and diffuse culture of hostility that rules social and political life in Lebanon.
- Enabling the generally disempowered yet growing chorus of voices that call for the adoption of a transitional justice approach tailored to Lebanon’s specific needs relative to its successive postwar deadlock.
- Acknowledging publicly the ongoing cycles of blame and counter blame within the nation’s political discourse despite the ever-present threat of renewed political violence. Today, the voices being raised help build the case that the national predilection for closing the files of the past has failed, and that Lebanon must urgently begin the painful yet essential task of truth seeking. Clearly, taking any other course will accomplish nothing more than keeping open the wounds of our society.
May we have courage for the task before us.