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On Being with Krista Tippett is a public radio project delving into the human side of news stories + issues. Curated + edited by senior editor Trent Gilliss.

We publish guest contributions. We edit long; we scrapbook. We do big ideas + deep meaning. We answer questions.

We've even won a couple of Webbys + a Peabody Award.
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The Art of Peace: From “Conflict Resolution” to “Conflict Transformation”

by Krista Tippett, host

John Paul Lederach is one of the most esteemed names in conflict mediation in the world today. He is also Mennonite, an icon of this tradition that passionately embraces the biblical command to “be peacemakers.” In our conversation in “The Art of Peace” he calls his work “conflict transformation” rather than the more commonly used term of “conflict resolution.” Across three decades, in over 25 countries on five continents, he has sought to help people transform their relationships with their enemies.

You can solve a problem without resolving a conflict, he points out. And you can resolve a conflict without setting real change in motion, without creating justice that will make the renewal of conflict less likely in the future. This, he says, is the true challenge of peacebuilding, one that always takes generations to accomplish. It is as much the work of creativity and “moral imagination” as of dialogue and commitment.

Community conflict process meeting in Kanchanpur, Nepal - John Paul Lederach

He tells remarkable stories from around the globe. These are stories that live below the radar of mainstream international news, and yet they offer powerful and empowering examples of real, systemic change in individual lives and in societies. He takes us inside a photograph of a dialogue, which you see above, between former enemies in Nepal. The participants range from ex-slaves to landless “untouchables,” to conservationists, to agencies regulating the use of forests. Their conflicts are the shape of the 21st century — a complex and perilous balancing act between the distribution of natural resources for a particular group’s survival and the greater good of preservation. Around the world, such conflicts are increasingly devolving into war. By contrast, in year seven of a ten-year process, these Nepalis are finding very creative and sustaining ways to honor their competing needs while nourishing a new common life.

Even as John Paul Lederach describes situations worlds away, his stories hold wisdom for all of us. Change, he asserts, always begins with a handful of people in relationship. In his writing, he makes a helpful distinction: while large-scale movements — including peace movements — can forge turning points, they tend to form around what they are opposing and do not necessarily carry the seeds of new, positive forms to shape the future. He is more interested in finding what he calls “critical yeast” rather than “critical mass.” To put it another way, in John Paul Lederach’s experience, enduring change is seeded not by large numbers of like-minded people, but by a quality of relationship between unlikely combinations of people.

This creativity and courage of relationship is evident in the Nepalis to whom he introduces us. It is there, likewise, in a remarkable organization of peasants in Colombia who have forged improbable relationships with warring militias, in whose conflicts they had previously been caught as victims and pawns. One of the principles of this group that has endured for over two decades is that “we will seek to understand those who do not understand us.” On the basis of formulating and living such an idea, they have created a heretofore unimaginably peaceful space for their children and grandchildren.

John Paul Lederach in GhanaJohn Paul Lederach with his daughter Angela in Cape Coast, Ghana. (photo: George Wachira)

This is not, however, an abstract or sentimental conversation that denies the hardness of the tasks at hand. That same “successful” group in Colombia lost its founders to assassination. In West Africa, where John Paul Lederach’s daughter Angie has followed in her father’s footsteps, the trauma of the horrific phenomenon of child soldiers goes far beyond anything that will be “resolved” in this lifetime. These young people have not only been brutalized, they have been forced to commit unspeakable violence against members of their own families and communities. We hear what John Paul and Angie Lederach have learned in a context like this about the non-linear and non-verbal nature of healing. He helps us understand why, even in the course of trauma in ordinary life, music and poetry can help us re-inhabit places in ourselves at the level of blood and bone, where violation has marked us and words cannot initially reach.

The Moral Imagination by John Paul LederachWe end this conversation in an unexpected place where John Paul Lederach’s life and imagination have led him — a fascination with the ancient art of haiku as a way to capture what Oliver Wendell Holmes called “the simplicity on the other side of complexity” that emerges again and again as human beings navigate the overlapping territories between violence, trauma, healing, and hope.

This conversation with John Paul Lederach is one of those redemptive experiences I get to have and share in this line of work — of discovering someone who is nourishing the world, though rarely making headlines. He emboldens the rest of us not to be overwhelmed by the unremitting images of violence and despair that come at us from every direction. He urges us to remember the importance of the immediacy of human relationships, especially the unlikely ones, and the worth of investing our imagination, courage, and time in them. This, too, is peace.

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Life Together: Arab-Israeli professor in Galilee Partners with Jewish University in Jerusalem to Deal with Diversity

PART THREE: OVERCOMING STEREOTYPES IN THE COLLEGE CLASSROOM

by Christin Davis, USC graduate journalism student

Manal YazbakProfessor Manal Yazbak (photo: Christin Davis)

Manal Yazbak looks down when she remembers the treatment that some of her Jewish teachers meted out to Arab students.

“Some lecturers mistreated us once they knew we were Arabs,” she said of her experience at The Hebrew University, where she earned a doctorate in Education Management. “One proficiency teacher was very rude to us. And it didn’t matter how hard we tried, she gave us bad marks.”

In the Jewish state of Israel, Ms. Yazbak is a member of the minority. Arab citizens of Israel comprise just over 20 percent of the country’s total population. Ms. Yazbak felt the physical and ideological separation of Jews and Arabs in Nazareth while completing her teaching practicum at a Jewish elementary school.

“In their teaching, they ignored the existence of people living in Israel before the state was created,” she said. “They said the Arabs are ‘violent and try to kill us.’ It really bothered me because it was like brainwashing.”

Now as a professor at Sakhnin Teacher’s College in the Galilee — which includes mostly Muslim and Christian Arab students — Ms. Yazbak instructs a course on dealing with diversity for second-year students in the English department. The class is taught in partnership with the David Yellin College of Education in Jerusalem, and comprised primarily of Jewish students.Yazbak_ChurchOfAnnunciation02

Wearing a sharp red pea coat, Ms. Yazbak, 40, pushed her shoulder-length russet hair behind her ear. In a chic eatery not far from the Well of Annunciation, where Christians believe Mary learned she would bear the son of God, Yazbak conveyed a devotion to teaching students how to deal with the “other” and promote a peaceful resolution to her nation’s conflict. With a self-control that is not riled by or indulged in extreme emotions, she said she believes this outcome is possible despite a number of her own failed friendships with Jews.

“The [Israeli-Palestinian] conflict is endless, but my hope is to raise awareness of human beings,” Ms. Yazbak said, “so that between ethnic groups and religions we can tolerate each other.”

Yazbak’s own experiences with the “other” rarely had happy endings. Growing up in Nazareth she and her siblings spent time with her father’s best friend, a Jewish man from Ra’anana. The two met while working together in a car factory. Having daughters about the same age, the two fathers and their families spent Saturdays together, often barbecuing and taking trips to the water. Ms. Yazbak attended an Arab junior high school that partnered with a Jewish school for activities. She said they even had sleepovers at each other’s homes. But neither experience bred lasting relationships.

"The truth is we didn’t make real friends,” Ms. Yazbak said, “but it was nice while it lasted.”

She later lived in Jerusalem for eight years while attending university and made friends with a few Jewish students. They studied together, but didn’t maintain contact following graduation. “There wasn’t email or mobile phones then, so we didn’t keep in touch,” she said.

According to Ms. Yazbak, hers is the only course in Israel that focuses on teaching diversity. She said some education is directed toward multiculturalism or social issues, but no other class instructs future teachers in how to reduce stereotypes and interact with people who are different than they are.

“We changed the name of the course a couple of times, but we chose Dealing with Diversity since it includes all the themes of conflict resolution and bias awareness,” Ms. Yazbak said. “The ‘other’ could be any other, not necessarily the Jewish other. The key is interaction.”

The one-year program — conducted in English to put both groups on equal footing — is aimed at developing student awareness of bias and stereotyping as well as teaching skills for conflict resolution. It incorporates activities, theoretical material and application, and is currently in its third year.

At the end of the first semester, students from both colleges meet together in Jerusalem. They discuss their own identity and the personal experiences that led to a desire to teach. Yazbak said by highlighting this similarity in career choice, students see commonality between themselves and their Arab or Jewish counterparts and start to reduce stereotypes.

They then divide into groups of four — two from each college — and decide on a topic for a collaborative project. During the second semester, groups prepare a presentation via online meetings. The projects require group research, discussion, negotiation, planning, and compromise, and then are presented in a final combined meeting at the end of the academic year in the Galilee. Previous projects presented strategies for classroom conflict resolution skills and using language to prevent conflict between pupils.

“My students haven’t met Jewish students before, and the opposite is true for the Jewish students,” Ms. Yazbak said. “The Jewish students are astonished when they see we’re not living in tents. Meeting together produces a change of attitudes — even the food and atmosphere helps gain better understanding of the other.”

After the final meeting in 2010, an Arab student thanked Ms. Yazbak for the opportunity to meet Jewish students with no enmity and said, “Together we learned about conflict resolution, an emergency need for the new generation.”

The course has had its challenges. In its first year, the initial meeting came just after the Gaza Operation; in the second year, it began the week following the Gaza flotilla incident. Both events, Yazbak said, made the Jewish students fearful of visiting the college in the Galilee.

“The Jewish students are easily affected by the political situation in the country, which means they want an excuse not to come to Arab cities,” Ms. Yazbak said. “They are always threatened. Those who did come learned that political disagreements did not rule out collaboration on a human level, nor did they overshadow other areas of commonality.” She said it’s important for these teachers in training to receive this kind of education so that when they one day lead a classroom of young people they can have a positive influence in eliminating stereotypes about Jewish and Arab people.

“The political situation in [Israel] discourages me sometimes, but I believe in peaceful resolution. It’s the only way since other alternatives exercise all sorts of violence,” Ms. Yazbak said. “Coexistence is a hard question, but [in this class] we want to understand each other.”

Photo (bottom): The Well of Annunciation in Galilee by Christin Davis.


Christin DavisChristin Davis is a graduate student in journalism at the University of Southern California, and the managing editor for Caring, a magazine focused on social services produced by The Salvation Army.

This series is part of a collaboration between On Being and the University of Southern California Annenberg School of Communication & Journalism in an attempt to add to the public’s understanding of the diversity of stories of daily life in Israel and the West Bank.

We welcome your original reflections, essays, videos, or news items for possible publication on the Being Blog. Submit your entry through our First Person Outreach page.

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Life Together: Haifa Cultural Center Builds Community Among Arabs and Jews

PART TWO: CHIPPING AWAY AT STEREOTYPES THROUGH SHARED INTERESTS

by Christin Davis, USC graduate journalism student

Assaf RonAssaf Ron (photo: Christin Davis)

“I was raised in a pluralistic house,” said Assaf Ron, a Jewish man from Haifa, Israel. “An Arab was not cursed, he was a person.”

In a country where separation — even physical walls — between Arabs and Jews is common, Mr. Ron’s perspective stands out. News headlines included the murder of a Jewish settler family in the West Bank as Ron, 51, sat in his Haifa office, flooded by a strong sea breeze. Mr. Ron discussed his work as the executive director of Beit Hagefen Arab Jewish Center, a nonprofit cultural center in Haifa. Though he has no written job description, Mr. Ron said his overall role is to promote a need for mutual respect between people, specifically Jews and Arabs.

“My definition of coexistence is normalization, to respect the other’s narrative,” Mr. Ron said. “This is the biggest and hardest step on the way to coexistence.”

Beit Hagefen, according to Mr. Ron, is a “window to a multicultural community” where Jews and Arabs interact together. Despite living in the same city, he said, the two groups do not interact, so the center encourages and facilitates connections through activities in the local area.

The center has an art gallery, a library, and an Arab theater. It recently began a women’s walking club, a program bringing Arab and Jewish families together in each others’ homes, and a photography class that allows for young people to connect through their work. Founded in 1963, it is a non-profit organization supported by the Haifa municipality; the Ministry of Education, Culture and Sport; and private donations.

HaifaBeit Hagefen cultural center in Haifa. (photo: Christin Davis)

“It is important to me to have people respect and accept the other, no matter his religion, nationality, or education,” Mr. Ron said. “There is only one way to live a good life on this globe — share resources and respect differences among people. I truly believe it is in my power to convince people of these ideas.”

Before coming to Beit Hagefen, Mr. Ron, who has a master’s degree in public administration from Haifa University, was the executive director of the department of education for the regional council in Gilboa, a rural area bordering the West Bank. Functioning much like a superintendent does in the United States, Mr. Ron oversaw seven Arab and six Jewish schools, often bringing together the teachers for collaboration. In his current position, Mr. Ron overseas the departments of Beit Hagefen, initiates new projects, raises funds, networks, and coaches the staff.

Mr. Ron works closely with Ulfat Haider, the program manager at Beit Hagefen and an Arab woman. Together, they promote “neighborliness.” According to Mr. Ron, this means, “We don’t have to agree about everything. If Palestinian is the way you define yourself, it doesn’t mean you want to do anything to me.”

He acknowledged the ever-present Israeli-Palestinian conflict but said that at Beit Hagefen “we reduce the level of fear and hatred and increase the understanding of the other’s narrative. We try to reduce stereotypes.”

HaifaA mother and her son play outside Beit Hagefen community center. (photo: Christin Davis)

It’s an ongoing effort, as Mr. Ron learned when his son came home, excited to have made a new friend. Mr. Ron asked his son if he wanted to invite the boy to their house. “’Are you crazy? He’s Arab,’ my son said,” Mr. Ron recalled. “Can you imagine? My house is one of coexistence, but he still gets this from the outside. Why couldn’t we invite him over?”

Mr. Ron does make clear that he supports a Jewish state, “but not a Jewish state that is against civil rights for all people,” he said. “Ask Arabs, they want to live here because it is a democracy — even if it is not completely equal now,” Mr. Ron said. “We are an ethnic democracy. Jews have some benefits above the rest. In the eyes of the world, this is racism…sorry. My answer might be different if there was democracy in the Middle East. But right now, with the hypocrisy of terrorism, I’m too frightened.”

Assaf RonI trust the Arabs that live in Israel,” he said. “They choose to live here. But you can always find one or two people that are not trustworthy.”

Mr. Ron said he doesn’t consider himself that different from other Jews but has “more structured views and general tolerance.” His friends, however, question his work toward coexistence.

“People call me naïve,” he said. “I insist on being naïve… It’s just believing in people. I learned that if you respect people as human beings and hear their story, most will respect you as well.”


Christin DavisChristin Davis is a graduate student in journalism at the University of Southern California, and the managing editor for Caring, a magazine focused on social services produced by The Salvation Army.

This report is part of a collaboration between On Being and the University of Southern California Annenberg School of Communication & Journalism in an attempt to add to the public’s understanding of the diversity of stories of daily life in Israel and the West Bank.

We welcome your original reflections, essays, videos, or news items for possible publication on the Being Blog. Submit your entry through our First Person Outreach page.

Comments

Spiritual Sound Bytes in Haiku

by Trent Gilliss, senior editor

Serendipity graces us with poetry this week. And, it is a rugged stretch of weeks to come mixing production schedules, vacations, the changing name of this program, and a rigorous upcoming travel schedule. Oy.

John Paul LederachKrista’s interview with John Paul Lederach yielded some profound moments. The final portion of the show primarily focuses on his use of an enduring form of Japanese poetry — the haiku — as a form of creativity and “moral imagination” in finding new ways into conflict resolution that leads to sustained transformation.

He uses this age-old form of poetry in his work from conflict zones in Northern Ireland to Nepal. But, he also uses this expression to capture themes and ideas, turning points during heated conversations about social change and the definition of “compassion” here at home too.

During our editorial sessions, Krista mentioned that she attended an intense three-day dialogue in May 2009 with John Paul Lederach and others engaged in social change from various directions. It was in part, she says, an exercise in the tension and ambiguity that exists, even around notions like peace and compassion. Lederach condensed this lively interaction into 12 “conversational haikus” that capture the tension, promise, and paradox of moral action and meaningful language:

Generative memory

Converging Consensus: Creative Communities Conversing Compassion

Or

Twelve Doses of Compassion And One Epilogue

Or

Noticing Wisdom
Conversational Haikus
Wye River Accords

i.
Ordinary folk
Compass intact and
Voices dusted off

ii.
Shed the amnesia
Listen to the forgotten
Be, where people are

iii.
Sharing deep suffering
We want our humanity back
Glimpse of the true world.

iv.
Trauma strips us bare
Unfortunate awakening
Our wholeness begins

v.
Belongers.  Others.
None see me, yet I bid the 
Loving hands of God

vi.
Dear Sojourner Truth,
Welcome home!  We beg you, stay!
No lumpy grits here.

vii.
Shadow and Beauty
A mirror to see ourselves
We have to hold up?
We have to hold up!
A mirror to see ourselves
Beauty and Shadow

viii.
Some people carry
Their suffering without fear —
Grace-filled-Activists

ix.
A new narrative
Descending into the heart
Crystallizes questions

x.
Off his bow, echoes
Johann Sebastian Bach
Still rings in our ears

xi.
Human history:
Ten thousand acts of kindness
The Why river flows 

xii.
What shall you pursue?

To speak without fear
And with those who will resist
Listen with the Spirit’s ear

Epilogue

Ancestors beckon:
Be true to your deep calling
And gift your children

Spiritual sound bytes. Noticed. Acknowledged. Arranged.
John Paul Lederach May 7-9, 2009

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From “Conflict Resolution” to “Conflict Transformation”
Krista Tippett, host

John Paul Lederach is one of the most esteemed names in conflict mediation in the world today. He is also Mennonite, an icon of this tradition that passionately embraces the biblical command to “be peacemakers.” John Paul Lederach insists on calling his work “conflict transformation” rather than the more commonly used term, “conflict resolution.” Across three decades, in over 25 countries on five continents, he has sought to help people transform their relationships with their enemies.

You can solve a problem without resolving a conflict, he points out. And you can resolve a conflict without setting real change in motion, without creating justice that will make the renewal of conflict less likely in the future. This, he says, is the true challenge of peacebuilding, one that always takes generations to accomplish. It is as much the work of creativity and “moral imagination” as of dialogue and commitment.

Much in John Paul Lederach’s vocabulary and toolkit is counter-cultural, from an American perspective, with our ignorance of history and fondness for quick fixes. These days, he tries only to take on projects where the participants are committed to ten-year efforts rather than those lasting one to two years. This, he says, makes the difference between a community that’s learning to be crisis-responsive rather than crisis-driven — where ingrained adversarial patterns of interaction become impossible to fall back on. That, of course, in an individual or collective life, is the mark of true change, and we all know from life that it takes time.

Community conflict process meeting in Kanchanpur, Nepal - John Paul Lederach
In Kanchanpur, Nepal, two facilitators take part in a community process to work on a conflict between Forest User Groups (young woman standing) and several groups of “encroachers” including a landless group and a Kamaiya (young man standing), or bonded laborers. (photo: Chup Thapa)

And, in our show "The Art of Peace" (audio above), he tells us remarkable stories from across the globe. These are stories that live below the radar of mainstream international news, and yet they offer powerful and empowering examples of real, systemic change in individual lives and in societies. He takes us inside a photograph of a dialogue, which you see above, between former enemies in Nepal. The participants range from ex-slaves to landless “untouchables,” to conservationists, to agencies regulating the use of forests. Their conflicts are the shape of the 21st century — a complex and perilous balancing act between the distribution of natural resources for a particular group’s survival and the greater good of preservation. Around the world, such conflicts are increasingly devolving into war. By contrast, in year seven of a ten-year process, these Nepalis are finding very creative and sustaining ways to honor their competing needs while nourishing a new common life.

Even as John Paul Lederach describes situations worlds away, his stories hold wisdom for all of us. Change, he asserts, always begins with a handful of people in relationship. In his writing, he makes a helpful distinction that while large-scale movements — including peace movements — can forge turning points, they tend to form around what they are opposing and do not necessarily carry the seeds of new, positive forms to shape the future. He is more interested in finding what he calls “critical yeast” rather than “critical mass.” To put it another way, in John Paul Lederach’s experience, enduring change is seeded not by large numbers of like-minded people, but by a quality of relationship between unlikely combinations of people.

This creativity and courage of relationship is evident in the Nepalis to whom he introduces us. It is there, likewise, in a remarkable organization of peasants in Colombia who have forged improbable relationships with warring militias, in whose conflicts they had previously been caught as victims and pawns. One of the principles of this group that has endured for over two decades is that “we will seek to understand those who do not understand us.” On the basis of formulating and living such an idea, they have created a heretofore unimaginably peaceful space for their children and grandchildren.

John Paul Lederach in Ghana
John Paul Lederach and his daughter Angie attending a meeting in Cape Coast, Ghana. (photo: George Wachira)

This is not, however, an abstract or sentimental conversation that denies the hardness of the tasks at hand. That same “successful” group in Colombia lost its founders to assassination, yet survived. In West Africa, where John Paul Lederach’s daughter Angie has followed in her father’s footsteps, the trauma of the horrific phenomenon of child soldiers goes far beyond anything that will be “resolved” in this lifetime. These young people have not only been brutalized, they have been forced to commit unspeakable violence against members of their own families and communities. We hear what John Paul and Angie Lederach have learned in a context like this about the non-linear and non-verbal nature of healing. He helps us understand why, even in the course of trauma in ordinary life, music and poetry can help us re-inhabit places in ourselves at the level of blood and bone, where violation has marked us and words cannot initially reach.

In my conversation with John Paul Lederach, we end in an unexpected place where his life and imagination have led him — a fascination with the ancient art of haiku as a way to capture what Oliver Wendell Holmes called “the simplicity on the other side of complexity” that emerges again and again as human beings navigate the overlapping territories between violence, trauma, healing, and hope. These haiku honor the difficulty of peace as much as its promise. He took this haiku, for example, from a candid conversation he had with a colleague in Northern Ireland, years after the Good Friday Agreement accords had been signed:

"Rainbow’s End?"

"Maybe," he says, "This
is as good as it will get:
Peaceful bigotry.”

This conversation with John Paul Lederach is one of those redemptive experiences I get to have and share in this line of work — of discovering someone who is nourishing the world, though rarely making headlines. He emboldens the rest of us not to be overwhelmed by the unremitting images of violence and despair that come at us from every direction. He urges us to remember the importance of the immediacy of human relationships, especially the unlikely ones, and the worth of investing our imagination, courage, and time in them. This, too, is peace.

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It is impossible for someone like myself, who grew up in one of the worst-affected areas during the Troubles, not to notice that the areas now reeling from riots, burning cars and confrontations with the police are the very same ones that suffered most in previous decades. This is no coincidence. It is no coincidence either that these riots are not taking place in more well-to-do parts of the province, just as they didn’t in the past. I watch these youngsters and, all but for a change of fashion, they could be the same people who were on the streets in the 70s and 80s. It is soul-destroying to observe.
-

—Mary O’Hara, from her op-ed "Poverty Is the Backdrop to the Riots in Northern Ireland" in today’s Guardian.

As I read this, I couldn’t help but think of our recent interview with John Paul Lederach and his emphasis on peace as a long-term effort that comes about by finding solutions to basic needs, such as employment and housing that is needed in these impoverished parts of Belfast.

Trent Gilliss, senior editor

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Peacebuilding in Pictures
by Nancy Rosenbaum, associate producer
John Paul Lederach is a peacebuilder who has worked on five continents and in over 25 countries. He travels four to five months a year, but he carved out a couple hours to visit with Krista. His interview is featured in "The Art of Peace" this week.
While traveling in Europe and in between flights, he forwarded a handful of photographs of his peacebuilding efforts in Ghana, Nepal, and the Philippines. His daughter Angie, who worked with former child soldiers in West Africa, provided several more images, including the one above of war-affected girls from a skills building program in Sierra Leone. We thought we’d share some of them with you:
 (photo: Chup Thapa from the Federation of Community Forest Users)
In the image above, a community process takes place in Kanchanpur, Nepal to deal with conflicts over land and natural resources use between several opposing groups including former slaves, landless “untouchables,” conservationists, and government officials. John Paul Lederach describes this process in detail to Krista and says this photograph represents seven years of patient peacebuilding. People from all sides of the conflict participated and they used the metaphor of a Nepali soup called kwati to frame their work together. Kwati is made from nine different beans and, as Lederach explains, “every bean retains its flavor … but when they’re brought together the nine beans create a flavor that’s good for the whole. So there have to be some of us that also think about the good of the whole of the community.”

John Paul Lederach and his daughter Angie in Cape Coast, Ghana. (photo: George Wachira)

Peacebuilding in Pictures

by Nancy Rosenbaum, associate producer

John Paul Lederach is a peacebuilder who has worked on five continents and in over 25 countries. He travels four to five months a year, but he carved out a couple hours to visit with Krista. His interview is featured in "The Art of Peace" this week.

While traveling in Europe and in between flights, he forwarded a handful of photographs of his peacebuilding efforts in Ghana, Nepal, and the Philippines. His daughter Angie, who worked with former child soldiers in West Africa, provided several more images, including the one above of war-affected girls from a skills building program in Sierra Leone. We thought we’d share some of them with you:

Community conflict process meeting in Kanchanpur, Nepal - John Paul Lederach (photo: Chup Thapa from the Federation of Community Forest Users)

In the image above, a community process takes place in Kanchanpur, Nepal to deal with conflicts over land and natural resources use between several opposing groups including former slaves, landless “untouchables,” conservationists, and government officials. John Paul Lederach describes this process in detail to Krista and says this photograph represents seven years of patient peacebuilding. People from all sides of the conflict participated and they used the metaphor of a Nepali soup called kwati to frame their work together. Kwati is made from nine different beans and, as Lederach explains, “every bean retains its flavor … but when they’re brought together the nine beans create a flavor that’s good for the whole. So there have to be some of us that also think about the good of the whole of the community.”

John Paul Lederach in GhanaJohn Paul Lederach and his daughter Angie in Cape Coast, Ghana. (photo: George Wachira)

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