[This is the first of three essays that I'm required to complete for my program. I thought I'd include them here because so much of my time here has been focused on academics and these papers, I hope, will reflect how much I've learned! I've changed them a little bit, in order to protect my program, and I'm also not sure how much is understandable without having heard our class discussions/being present here in Rwanda... I hope they make sense! This one particularly is supposed to be a personal essay--no citations or anything.]
Learning is a constant process. Immediately upon reaching a “solution” or
basic understanding of an intricate concept or relationship, a new insight propels
you back into the exhausting yet exhilarating process of thinking and
rethinking the complexities. The peace
and global studies discipline in particular fosters this opportunity to think
critically and to continuously evaluate one’s field and one’s place within that
field. I find myself constantly absorbing
new information—regarding social and economic development, political identity,
humanitarian aid work, the relationship between capitalism and political space,
the challenge of legitimizing alternatives, etc.—that will aid in my work with
future peacebuilding efforts. My program in Rwanda has advanced my studies in these areas significantly. In particular, my time in Rwanda has allowed
me to unpack three lessons crucial to peacebuilding: the danger of a single
truth in peacebuilding efforts, the discovery of a space to change the
theoretical within the concrete, and the necessity of believing in the power of
ideas.
First and foremost, this program has
reiterated my understanding that no single truth exists. In the field of peace and conflict studies,
it is tempting to search for the
answer—the one “right” solution—to the myriad global problems we analyze and
discuss. However, in realizing that each
person comes from a unique environment, with a particular frame of mind and set
of values, it makes sense that their story is their truth, fabricated from the
unique circumstances life has presented him or her. These contextualized truths must be viewed as
valid and legitimate within the unique history of that person’s experience.
In learning to contextualize and historicize
individual truth, I believe that I can better meet each person on his or her
own level in a way that can foster greater understanding. Only accepting one truth as the “right” way
to view the world completely discounts an individual’s unique experience and
hinders any sort of mutual understanding or desire to move forward together. The danger of recognizing only a single truth
constantly manifests in aid projects. Their
very specific plan to build peace, often focusing on development and short-term
provision of goods and services, is praised for doing so much “good” in the world
while it actually falls prey to an overarching, unjust system. We heard myriad examples during our program: the alleviation of poverty via the Millennium Village Project, the
Rwandan Development Board’s plan to modernize the country, the Invisible
Children and Save Darfur advocacy projects for mobilizing masses to prevent
genocide. Despite these programs
appearing to do “good” on the surface level, they operate within a system that perpetuates
unhealthy dynamics like continual reliance on foreign aid, the privileging of
“easier” economic development projects over complex structural problems, and
the dehistoricization of incredibly intricate conflicts. In other words, the very foundation of these
programs meant to do “good” aligns carefully with a system based on harmful
assumptions that continually oppress the very people these organizations are
meant to help. Thus this single
conceptualization of what is “good” distracts from the main issue: the
necessity of deconstructing an inherently oppressive system.
So what does this say about truth? When these projects are championed as the
“best” ways to encourage lasting peace, and their advocates—found among the
majority of our speakers in class—truly believe that their actions are helping
create lasting peace, how can that mindset—their truth—be doubted? Do these advocates and speakers recognize how
well their views align with the official government narrative, and do they
realize that this narrative causes fear and alienation for certain groups of
people? Do they actually believe in the
concepts on which they present or do they knowingly regurgitate the
government’s narrative? And the single
question lying foremost in my head: are these people knowingly causing “bad”
while operating under the guise of “good”?
While this will remain an ongoing question for
me, this program has helped me understand the danger of assuming one truth and how
crucial it is to deeply evaluate every aid program and attempt to help. In grappling with this very issue, I have
reached a greater understanding of my own purpose in peacebuilding work. I originally struggled with the
aforementioned dilemma of concrete, on-the-ground projects perpetuating
injustices on a grander scale and, if this truly was the case, dismayed over
where I could work as an advocate of peace.
I could not imagine a definitive way to challenge the harmful
assumptions that constrict the way people think: how could big picture paradigm
shifts operate within concrete, action-based projects?
However, I mistakenly isolated theoretical
paradigms from on-the-ground structures and institutions, failing to realize
how the two inescapably work together. Dangerous
paradigms do not simply appear but are constructed through specific structures
and institutions. Within those
institutions, the seed of a harmful paradigm lies within the minds of
individuals in the shape of specifically constructed assumptions and
biases. Hence these colossal paradigm
shifts can only take place on the
ground, within the minds of individuals.
Unfortunately, this raises uncomfortable issues
like the presumption that I have the right to impose different mindsets on
people and the critique that working within the system cannot break down unjust
structures nearly as well as working outside of the system. Yet, the final lesson I have gained from
Rwanda is a strong belief in the power of ideas. Engaging in theoretical discourse, believing
in alternatives, and simply discussing new ideas are all crucial to seeing
long-term change; if alternatives cannot be imagined, they will never come
about.
The immensity of some of these structural
injustices tends to discourage and frustrate many, myself included. The utter domination of harmful and biased
systems like capitalism, neoliberalism, and nation-state organization is
overwhelming. Specifically, if
capitalism as a concept is harmful in itself, how does one even begin to
deconstruct such a pervasive mindset? This
point of discussion arose during our conversation in Uganda, pointing to the extent
of capitalism’s infiltration into so many ways of life and its probable role in
provoking conflicts in Africa. If one
views capitalism as a dominating system in its essence—a claim substantiated
because capitalism’s very existence relies on the domination of some over
others—then the system of capitalism serves to pacify and suppress those who do
not fit neatly into its rigid model of how to organize life and economy. Hence, in nations with a strong state and a
highly integrated system of capitalism, little room exists for dissent or opposition. It is in response to this intentional
narrowing of political space that rebel groups arise and violence becomes the
only option in which to voice opposition.
Yet with a less integrated capitalistic system and a weak state, one
could argue that opponents have more space to disagree with the current system
and highlight other alternatives, for the simple reason that capitalism has not
fully pacified the nation under a single system.
Therefore, if capitalism rests at the
foundation of many oppressions and conflicts because of its inherently closed
political space, it seems to me that resistance needs to take the shape of
establishing a space in which to share alternative ideas. An opening of political space creates an
opportunity to at least conceptualize that there can be another option rather than capitalism—or that there already are other options out there that deserve
attention. Encouraging this kind of open
dialogue and critical thinking requires that all voices be heard, even allowing the “bad guys” to have their
say. Yet this brings up issues of voice
and whether every voice should be heard, despite how harmful or violent it is. Should we shut out harmful discourses or
listen to them? If we continue to engage
with these discourses, will discussion serve to legitimize them and perpetuate
their very existence? Completely opening
up political space certainly raises some major issues, ones that I hope to
continue unpacking in the years to come.
All the same, I see positive movement occurring
in this “play” of ideas: I think positive change lies in the ability to simply
conceptualize and begin to believe that there are alternatives to these
intimidating systems of capitalism, neoliberalism, and nation-states. Thus, I leave this program believing even
more in education, in the value of critical thinking, and in the spread of
knowledge to let people make their own decisions. Education has the power to influence ways of
thinking, ways of conceptualizing, and ways of believing to the extent that
entire paradigms are shaped—and hence can change—within this setting. With an education that invites every
individual to think for herself, the thoughts, possibilities, and ideas are
endless—and within those rests the possibility of alternatives, even to grand
paradigms.
In synthesizing a semester of work, discussion,
and observation, I arrive at these aforementioned lessons: the danger of
assuming a single truth, the ability to work within concrete structures to
change injustices existing within the mind, and the power of ideas to change
abrasive systems of control. All of
these are crucial when examining their implications for pursuing aid work, for
wanting to “do good” in the world, for trying to deconstruct complex paradigms
within concrete structures, and for focusing on capitalism as a route cause of
global conflicts. I know that I will
continue to confront these lessons from Rwanda when I return to my home
institution and hope that they will guide me towards even more opportunities to
explore the complex relationships in our world.
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