Organizers, including CJP founding director John Paul听Lederach, sociology professor Vernon Jantzi, and 贬颈锄办颈补蝉听Assefa, a mediator in conflicts around the world, invited friends and colleagues to talk and think about the cutting edges of practice and theory in international peace work. Some uncertainty surrounded the launch of CJP itself, Jantzi recalls, and the organizers of the Frontiers conference didn鈥檛 have any particular plans to make it an annual event.

And they surely didn鈥檛 imagine that 20 years later it would be thriving, would have brought 2,800 people from 121 countries to EMU鈥檚 campus and would have directly inspired the creation of at least 10 other short-term peacebuilding institutes in Africa, Asia, the South Pacific and North America. Nor could Lederach, Jantzi and Assefa have imagined that they would remain involved to varying degrees ever since, though Assefa is the only one has taught every year at the summer institute.

鈥淭here was so much energy generated,鈥� Jantzi recalls, of the first conference. 鈥淧eople were so eager to share their experiences.鈥�

Participants found that simply being together at a week-long peacebuilding conference was tremendously beneficial and inspiring for their work, and the response was enthusiastic. During the following academic year, CJP received its accreditation, had three students in the master鈥檚 program and admitted a dozen more to begin in the fall of 1995, and had hired its first full-time administrative staff member, Ruth Zimmerman. Things were heading in a good direction, and CJP organized a second Frontiers in International Peacebuilding conference in the summer of 1995.

Conference becomes 鈥淪PI鈥�

For its third year, CJP gave its one-week peacebuilding conference a new name: the Summer Peacebuilding Institute, or SPI. Word was spreading, interest was growing, and SPI was about to begin growing quickly in size, scope and length. By 2002, SPI attracted around 150 participants from about 50 countries and offered 20 classes over a two-month period.

One of the major early emphases at SPI 鈥� and CJP more generally 鈥� was grounding the academic curriculum and classroom instruction in practical, on-the-ground application of peacebuilding and conflict resolution. Early in SPI鈥檚 history, outside funders helped bring participants from different sides of several major conflicts around the world, including groups of Catholics and Protestants from Northern Ireland and members of the Hutu and Tutsi ethnic groups from Rwanda and Burundi.

This created a rich and challenging environment at SPI, adding a heavy dose of real-life experience from difficult, violent conflicts 鈥� sometimes involving opposing sides of the same conflict 鈥� to complement the theory-based aspects of the curriculum.

鈥淚n the classroom, that was pretty powerful,鈥� says Tim Ruebke, who attended four years of SPI before earning his master鈥檚 degree from CJP in 1999.

Rich experiences outside classroom

Many report that the most powerful moments at SPI, though, occurred during informal, social times away from the classroom. Ruebke recalls an evening gathering at a home in Harrisonburg where participants from Northern Ireland shared stories, songs and dancing with each other and the rest of their classmates.

While the daily sessions focus on the cerebral, 鈥渉ead鈥� aspects of peacebuilding, these informal, social times in the evenings get at its emotional 鈥渉eart.鈥� This aspect of SPI, Ruebke says, mirrors the reality of many real-life peace negotiations, where the hard work of compromise, connection and understanding between parties often occurs in relaxed, social settings before being finalized at the formal negotiating table.

鈥淎 lot of stuff that happens here is informal and relational,鈥� says Jantzi. 鈥淲e think it鈥檚 very significant.鈥�

And as SPI participants often discover, the emotional aspects of peacebuilding aren鈥檛 always happy times of singing and dancing. One of the early SPI sessions included visitors from the former Soviet republic of Georgia as well as Abkhazia, a disputed region within Georgia over which a civil war was fought in the 1990s. One evening, an SPI professor had planned a discussion about this conflict and began by displaying a map of the region.

Ruebke was in the audience, and remembers that one of the parties was upset in some way by what was (or perhaps, what wasn鈥檛) portrayed on the map. This immediately and badly derailed the session, and by the time things had been patched up and discussion about the conflict was able to proceed, the importance of the 鈥渇elt鈥� aspect of peacebuilding had been brought home to Ruebke in a memorable way.

鈥淓ven though we were a peacebuilding program, people brought their stuff with them,鈥� remembers Ruth Zimmerman, who says that these sorts of conflicts would periodically flare up between participants. 鈥淲e had a great learning ground for using some of those [conflict resolution] skill sets over the years.鈥�

At the very beginning, the Frontiers in International Peacebuilding conferences and SPI were simply opportunities for professional development and learning. Before long, however, participants and graduate students in CJP began lobbying for an academic credit component to SPI. Though hesitant to accept the constraints of a pre-planned curriculum, CJP added a credit component to provide students with more flexibility in earning degrees through the program.

Some core courses have been offered year after year, including ones dealing with conflict analysis, restorative justice and trauma healing, and others that focus on practical peacebuilding skills like negotiation and reconciliation. Yet SPI stays true to its roots by exploring the field鈥檚 frontiers and updating its course offerings to reflect emerging themes in peacebuilding. Examples of new courses in 2014 include ones on media and societal transformation, playback theater, trauma-sensitive peacebuilding, mindfulness, and architecture as a peacebuilding tool.

Things ran on the skinniest of shoestring budgets in the very first years of SPI, when CJP professors opened their homes to participants after the day鈥檚 sessions had ended, while their spouses pitched in to help with meals. Volunteers filled many support roles. This contributed to the organic, intimate atmosphere that remains an important aspect of SPI to this day. But it was an exhausting and, in the long run, unsustainable way to run the event that itself led to conflicts between overworked staff members.

鈥淚t was so much work,鈥� recalls Zimmerman, who filled leadership roles at CJP from 1995 to 2007. 鈥淚 used to put in 70-hour weeks.鈥�

Huge logistics behind SPI

In addition to planning courses and lining up faculty to teach them, coordinating the many moving parts of the growing SPI program presented huge logistical challenges. Once, a participant booked a flight to the Dallas, Texas, airport rather than Washington, D.C.鈥檚 Dulles Airport. Another one hopped in a taxi and directed the driver to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, 185 miles north of Harrisonburg, Virginia.

In 1998, just after she became one of CJP鈥檚 earliest master鈥檚 program graduates, Pat Hostetter Martin (also a participant in the very first Frontiers in International Peacemaking conference) joined SPI to help relieve the growing crisis of stress and exhaustion the workload was placing on other staff. The following year, Martin became SPI鈥檚 co-director with Patricia Spaulding, and then sole director from 2004 until 2008.

In 2000, William Goldberg 鈥� a 2001 master鈥檚 program graduate of CJP 鈥� joined the SPI staff as the transportation coordinator. He later served as an associate director, co-director and, as of 2013, the director of SPI, which now has two full-time staff members and employs about 10 temporary staff each summer. (Other SPI leaders: Gloria Rhodes in the 鈥�90s, Sue Williams, 2008-鈥�11; Valerie Helbert, 2011-鈥�13.)

As the first Jewish program administrator at EMU, Goldberg embodies one of the ways that SPI has affected EMU as a whole by bringing such wide cultural and religious diversity to campus. From the very first Frontiers in International Peacebuilding conferences, CJP leaders wanted faculty to reflect the religious and cultural diversity of the participants 鈥� a desire at odds with EMU鈥檚 requirement that all faculty profess a Christian faith. After some discussion, CJP was able to negotiate exceptions to EMU鈥檚 hiring practices and hire non-Christian faculty members during the summer, which Jantzi points to as an example of the strong support SPI has generally enjoyed from university administrators since its beginning.

EMU鈥檚 hospitable community

Support from the university extended well beyond the administration, remembers Jantzi. Cafeteria staff embraced the opportunity, rather than resented the hassle, of serving participants with a variety of religious and cultural dietary preferences, while the physical plant staff went to great lengths to ensure everyone stayed comfortable during their time on campus. Together, the welcoming atmosphere the entire university created at SPI for visitors from around the world became an important part of its success.

As employees and departments outside of SPI pitched in to help it succeed, SPI also tried to build closer ties to the broader university community by making events like the opening ceremonies and the periodic SPI luncheons open to anyone on campus and in the surrounding community. And when these general open invitations didn鈥檛 attract large audiences, Martin found greater success when she started targeting specific people and departments with invitations and paying for their lunches.

SPI staff have also made similar efforts to share the diversity present on campus each summer with the broader community in and around Harrisonburg. As SPI鈥檚 community relations coordinator for about a decade, Margaret Foth worked to connect participants with families, churches and civic groups in the area. She helped form a particularly strong relationship with the Rotary Club of Rockingham County, which hosts a speaker from SPI each year and has helped underwrite an SPI trip to Washington D.C. A close relationship also developed between SPI and Park View Mennonite Church, just down the road from EMU, which has welcomed numerous international visitors in Sunday School classes and as participants in worship services.

鈥淲e wanted [participants] to know that it was an area that was welcoming and hospitable,鈥� says Foth. 鈥淭hey weren鈥檛 just coming for an academic session. They were coming for relationships in a welcoming community.鈥�

From 2000 to 2010, vanloads of SPI participants made connections farther from campus when they attended a peacebuilding conference held each summer by a group of churches in Knoxville, Tennessee, 360 miles southwest of Harrisonburg. (The minister who organized this conference, Jim Foster, is a graduate of Eastern Mennonite Seminary.) By staying with host families, the visitors enjoyed a more immersive experience in American culture; Foth says she could always count on enthusiastic reviews the following Monday, after participants returned to campus.

One year, a Vietnamese-American lawyer from California made the 12-hour round trip to Knoxville, and ended up staying in the home of a Mennonite pastor who, decades earlier, had fought in the Vietnam War. After they stayed up one night talking about their experience of that conflict, the lawyer returned to SPI and told Foth it had been a moment of great healing.

鈥淚 can still see him running across campus to give me a hug and say it was the best thing to have happened to him,鈥� she recalls.

听

Akin to heaven on earth?

In 2014, a total of 184 people from 36 countries attended SPI 鈥� about the size that SPI has been for the past five years, Goldberg says. As its third decade begins, SPI is as strong and as thriving as ever 鈥� planning for 2015 began before the books had even been closed on this year鈥檚 session.

Those who have been involved with SPI in some way over the past 20 years treasure the many memories and friendships they鈥檝e formed along the way.

鈥淚 think it鈥檚 one of the best things that鈥檚 happened for EMU,鈥� says Jantzi. 鈥淚t鈥檚 one of the most exciting things I鈥檝e been involved with here 鈥�. It鈥檚 just a really, really energizing time.鈥�

One year, Jantzi and an Iranian seminary student who came to SPI struck up an intriguing, weeks-long conversation about whether converting other people to their respective religions could be done in a nonviolent, non-coercive way. This man later became a high-ranking diplomat who, years later, returned to the United States as part of an Iranian delegation to the United Nations. He contacted Jantzi and invited himself back to Harrisonburg to give a guest lecture in one of Jantzi鈥檚 sociology classes 鈥� an encouraging indication, Jantzi says, of the high regard this former SPI participant still had for EMU.

Goldberg says he鈥檚 often inspired by the great lengths that people will go to so they can attend SPI. In 2014, a group of Syrian participants traveled at least 12 hours each way, through difficult and unsafe conditions, to Lebanon to get their visas to travel to the United States. Then they did it again to catch their flights 鈥� an illustration, he says, of 鈥渢he need that people have for this training.鈥�

And he鈥檚 similarly inspired by the eagerness with which people return to very difficult circumstances in their homes to put that training and learning into practice.

鈥淣o matter how difficult the conflict someone comes from, they want to go back and make it better with the new skills they鈥檝e learned here,鈥� Goldberg says.

More generally, Martin, as well as others interviewed for this story, says one of the most important enduring memories of SPI is 鈥渢he rich diversity of the whole thing. Oftentimes, that came out so well in the opening ceremonies. That just humbled you.

鈥淵ou want heaven to be like this,鈥� she says.

鈥� Andrew Jenner

Assefa鈥檚 key role in ending a conflict that had displaced over 100,000 persons and killed unknown numbers of civilians was highlighted by Bishop Paride Taban, chair of the Church Leaders Peace Initiative in South Sudan, in a June 2, 2014, letter to a Dutch organization that funded the mediation process. 鈥淚 would also like to express my deep gratitude for the mediation services of Professor Hizkias Assefa,鈥� wrote Taban. 鈥淚t was a privilege and honor for us to work with a man of his professional caliber and personal integrity 鈥� and indeed he was instrumental in ensuring the success of these negotiations, and thus the successful conclusion to this conflict. We would not have succeeded without him.鈥�

Assefa is a founding faculty member of听 the . For nearly two decades, he has taught courses on conflict transformation and reconciliation through . The following represents a series of exchanges between Assefa and EMU’s editor-in-chief during early June 2014.

Lofton: In brief, what was the result of the seven months of mediations you just finished facilitating between representatives of the Government of the Republic of South Sudan and the South Sudan Democratic Movement/Army?

Assefa: The two parties signed a comprehensive peace accord on May 9, 2014. This means that the war that has involved thousands of armed combatants and has killed and displaced hundreds of thousands of civilians over the past four years has come to an end.

Lofton: But I keep reading about continued warfare, with massive numbers of displaced peoples, in South Sudan.

Two wars in South Sudan lately

Assefa: There have been two wars going on simultaneously in South Sudan lately. One is the outburst of violence that started on December 15, 2013, between the followers of President Salva Kirr of South Sudan and the followers of his former vice-president, Riek Machar. The conflict started over disagreement on governance issues but degenerated into a war between the two majority ethnic groups, the Dinka and Nuer. This conflict has been under the ongoing mediation of IGAD, the Intergovernmental Agency for Development, an eight-country regional political and economic bloc in Eastern Africa.

Lofton: I believe that is the one I have been hearing about in the U.S. media.

Assefa: It is the conflict that most people know about, and [it is] the one that John Kerry (U.S. Secretary of State) has commented upon publicly. But the war that we are talking about here and the one in which I was involved as a mediator is different and there has not been much international media coverage of it.

Lofton: Could you say more about this war?

Assefa: The central Government of South Sudan has been fighting an insurgency group called the South Sudan Democratic Movement/Army. The SSDM/A fighters are based in the largest state of South Sudan, Jonglei, and are primarily composed of the Murle, Anuak and other small ethnic groups around the Pibor, and to some extent, Pocholla and Akobo regions. Their grievances have revolved around ethnic marginalization and discrimination, as well as massive underdevelopment of their area. In other words, they have not benefited from the fruits of independence like some other major ethnic groups.

Lofton: When did this insurgency emerge?

Assefa: The SSDM/A rebellion emerged about four years ago, during the interim period when South Sudan was autonomous but not fully independent from Khartoum. This rebellion became exacerbated when the South Sudan government, soon after independence, decided to disarm former militia groups that fought with it against Khartoum. The disarmament process involved some massive human rights abuses that led to many deaths and destruction especially among the Murle population. This further embittered the community against the government and pushed them to join the groups that were already in the bush. The rebels called for the creation of their own autonomous state where they would control the resources in their region and exercise self-determination. They also called for the federalization of South Sudan. Their insurgency was supported by training and arms from Khartoum, against whom they had formerly fought for independence. Obviously, Khartoum had its own reasons for supporting the insurgency.

Lofton: How did you come to be involved in the peace talks?

Encouraged by church leaders to mediate

Assefa: On different occasions the insurgents, led by General David Yau Yau, called for mediation by the African Union, UN and USA. But, in the end, it was the Church Leaders Peace Initiative in South Sudan, with the support of the and a Dutch Organization called , that contacted me to act as mediator. I spent months traveling back and forth among the significant decision makers within the opposing parties in an effort to win sufficient trust and to enable talks to begin at a neutral site in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

Lofton: Somebody had to pay for the transportation, hotel rooms, food, your time and so forth. Where did the funding come from?

Assefa: The Government of the Netherlands through a Dutch International NGO called Pax funded the process. The European Union also paid for some phases of the mediation.

Lofton: When did talks formally begin?

Assefa: Contacts with the leadership of both sides had started in October 2013 and aimed at developing trust, softening the ground, and developing a shared understanding for the mediation process. By early January 2014, both parties were persuaded to appoint delegates and start the formal talks in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. After very intensive negotiations, the first phase of the mediation culminated in the signature of a Cease Fire and Cessation of Hostilities Agreement on January 30, 2014. This agreement has held up well. From January until now, there have been no serious violations. In fact the militaries of both sides have cooperated very well to deliver humanitarian assistance to the area where this assistance has been very badly needed.

Lofton: You referred to an agreement signed on May 9. How is it different from the earlier agreement signed in January?

Latest agreement deals with underlying issues

Assefa: Since February, I鈥檝e been working with the negotiating teams of both parties to address the underlying political, economic, socio-cultural as well as military and security issues underlying the conflict so that the ceasefire can be transformed into durable peace. The comprehensive peace accord signed on May 9, 2014, includes the following six provisions:

1. An autonomous region, with the status of a state, was created for the people represented by the insurgency. The new region is to be composed of six counties. This region will have its own executive, headed by an administrator, who will have the status of a governor, and who will report directly to the president of the country.

2. The region will also have its own independent legislature and judiciary.

3. The region will administer the resources and revenues derived from its territory.

4. A Special Economic Development Fund will be created to enhance the development of the region, with a focus on education, health and infrastructure.

5. Affirmative action will be employed to increase the participation of the marginalized groups in national governance and power sharing.

6. Most of the insurgents will be integrated into the regular military, but some of them will stay in the newly created region to ensure citizens鈥� security.

Lofton: Do you have concerns that what has been agreed to on paper might not be implemented on the ground?

Hizkias Assefa teaching a course on forgiveness and reconciliation at the 2014 Summer Peacebuilding Institute. (Photo by Michael Sheeler)

Dispute resolution, monitoring, mechanisms

Assefa: There is always that danger in peace agreements. There could be a multitude of factors, both internal and external, that could undermine the peace agreement; and some of these factors are beyond the control of the conflict parties. In this case, it seems that the peace agreement has met the stated interests of both parties and I believe that both parties have the incentive to ensure that the agreement is not undermined. Moreover, we have tried to anticipate problems at the implementation stage and have put mechanisms in place to address them. So we have provided in the peace agreement a very strict implementation schedule, identifying who will do what by when, and created monitoring and dispute resolution bodies which will deal with emerging problems as soon as they arise so that they do not degenerate and threaten the whole peace accord. Representatives of the negotiating parties and local and international bodies, such as the United Nations, will be involved as monitors and overseers of the implementation process. Hopefully, these steps will help reduce implementation problems. However, despite all these, there cannot be a full-proof guarantee that things will work as planned. If the parties were genuinely involved in the mediation process, one hopes that they would have learned some problem-solving lessons that they would be inclined to use when implementation problems arise instead of racing to start another war again.

Lofton: You鈥檝e been a mediator at all levels of global conflict for nearly 40 years. How does this process compare to others that you鈥檝e been associated with?

Assefa: One remarkable thing that stood out for me in this mediation was the very positive and enabling relationship with the funders. The funders had a very good understanding of the mediation process and their style of funding enhanced instead of stifled it. Some funding comes with so many strings attached, the mediator finds his or her hand tied and is left to wonder whether ultimately his or her accountability is to the integrity of the process or the demands of the paymaster. Luckily, I did not have to face that dilemma in this mediation.

Lofton: What factors might have helped this mediation process conclude successfully?

Assefa: There were several factors. Among others, the sincerity of the negotiating delegates. They were properly mandated for their task and they managed to persuade their leading stakeholders to back up the concessions or agreements they were making in the process. Another key one was the high level of trust and support that I enjoyed among the parties. Because of this trust, I was able to explore and the parties were willing to try different approaches and options, including those they had initially rejected 鈥� they were open to using problem-solving strategies instead of resorting to highly positional bargaining. Periodically, we used to have separate sessions with each party where the parties would open themselves up to look at the problems from the eyes of the other side, using the perspectives of the mediator as a reality check.

In a strange way, a factor that could have also helped may have been that the mediation was low key and was taking place below the radar. The other conflict [between President Salva Kirr and his former vice president, Riek Machar, being mediated by IGAD] has been attracting a lot of international attention and has become a highly politicized process playing itself out in the media. Many powerful actors 鈥� such as the IGAD governments, the African Union, the UN, the U.S., Norway, the U.K., and other governments 鈥� have been involved in various capacities, pushing, threatening and cajoling, supporting their favorite side of the conflict and even indirectly pushing their own political agendas through the mediation. This, I believe, gives very little room for a genuine mediation process that pays attention to the essential underlying deep interests of the conflict parties. The coercion and pressure used by the mediators and the other governments involved seems to have backfired and has only created more covert resistance than cooperation.

Lofton: So, just to be clear, you feel that 鈥減ushing and threatening鈥� are ultimately counter-productive?

Assefa’s only tools: persuasion, patience and persistence

Assefa: Yes, in the process I was guiding, there was no option for coercion or threatening the parties even if I had wanted to. My only tools were persuasion and working hard to help the parties forge solutions that genuinely met their interests and needs so that it was in their interest to adopt those solutions. The fact that our process was insulated from coercive international interference helped a great deal.

Lofton: Talk more about the hard parts of arriving at this agreement.

Assefa: Notwithstanding some of the positive elements in the mediation process that I mentioned earlier, those favorable circumstances did not present themselves consistently throughout the process. Amazingly, and for reasons that are hard to explain, the process felt like a see-saw. One day, hopes would be raised and the successful completion of the process would be joyfully visible to everybody. The next day, something would happen, the old fears and resentments would surface, we would spiral to the bottom, and anxieties about the imminent collapse of the process would abound. At times, it felt as if one is at a spot where movement forward seems impossible but admitting defeat and removing oneself from the scene was not an option. In the background of all this was also the gnawing awareness that the people at the grassroots of this conflict were hungry for peace.

There were many moments during the mediation process when I was vexed by the thought of what would happen if the mediation process failed and we could not deliver this peace that the people were hungry for. How could we face the disappointment of the people and what would be the consequences of such disappointment? I was painfully aware of the consequences of failed mediation from the Ethiopian-Eritrean war, a couple of decades back, where the collapse of the mediation process gave the impression to the parties that mediation was a waste of time, and that the only option left to the combatants was to use maximum force in order to achieve their goals. This led to a huge escalation of the war and an unbelievable human and material disaster.

Lofton: On a personal level, what is the significance of this latest mediation process to you?

Assefa: First, I feel fortunate that I was able to accompany and guide this process from its preliminary stages all the way to the final peace accord. One could learn a great deal about the anatomy, dynamics and life cycles of peace processes if one has a chance to work with them as they evolve. It is a rare opportunity for one to accompany these processes through all the stages. Many processes start in a positive way and then get bulldozed and taken over by other processes initiated by other actors for a multitude of motives. Therefore, in many political mediation initiatives, lots of energy goes into re-starting these processes, often again and again, rather than building on what was accomplished and moving forward.

Secondly, in terms of my own career in this field, I feel like I have completed some kind of a mystical cycle. For my doctoral studies in the late 1970s, I focused on the first Sudan civil war and the mediation to end it, which took place in 1972 in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Now 42 years later, I found myself mediating on Sudanese issues 鈥� although these issues are very different from the ones dealt with in 1972 鈥� trying to put in practice what I studied theoretically years earlier, and mediating in the same city and even same hotel where the 1972 agreement was negotiated and signed.

Lofton: Any final thoughts?

Assefa (with a smile): I am not sure what this coming full circle is telling me. Is it possibly telling me that the cycle is complete, that it is time to pursue life in a different direction?

The annual (SPI) now consists of four seven-day sessions at 草莓社区 that bring together people as diverse as the Syriac Orthodox (Catholic) archbishop of Homs, Syria, Native American peacemakers, and Muslim women from Kenya.

鈥淲e try to create a safe space where people from various sides of a conflict can sit together and talk outside of the conflict zone,鈥� said SPI director , who has worked at SPI since 1999. 鈥淥ver the years we have had Israelis and Palestinians sit and talk about ways to resolve social issues in their countries. We had Hutus and Tutsis work together just years after the genocide in Rwanda and Burundi.

鈥淏ringing people together outside of class is just as important to SPI鈥檚 mission as the classes that are offered,鈥� said Goldberg. 鈥淗aving all these people living in Hillside [dormitory] and eating lunch together creates interesting bonds,鈥� he added, recalling how touched he felt when a Palestinian Muslim woman and her Christian Eastern European roommate prayed together in their room for the end of a terrible crisis in Palestine.

This year, SPI is hosting 200 people from more than 40 countries in four sessions from May 5 to June 13, 2014. In each session, participants must choose one course to take from an array of possibilities, including courses that focus on restorative justice, building peace through the arts, and addressing psychosocial trauma. Participants in the first two SPI sessions included a cohort of Kenyan women enrolled in EMU鈥檚 two-year-old and another .

SPI faculty offer grounding in both the theory and practice of peacebuilding. Of the 20 faculty members, almost all are practitioners as well as academics. Almost half hold a master鈥檚 degree from EMU鈥檚 , under which SPI operates. One of the many notable faculty members teaching this year is international mediator , who has taught at every session of SPI since its founding and has spent much of 2013-14 guiding talks among .

During the first session of SPI, ending May 13, two classes caught the artistic imagination of participants. A new class, 鈥�,鈥� yielded four mini-documentaries on trauma, using art to foster peace, and respect diversity. On the last night of the first session, these documentaries were screened before an enthusiastic audience of more than 50 SPI participants, staff, and faculty.

The buzz created by the documentaries inspired another class 鈥� 鈥溾�� 鈥� to invite others at SPI to experience their healing journey by viewing the many drawings and writings posted on their classroom walls, floors and tables.

This healing gallery explored trauma on a personal level, explained Richard 鈥淩ichy鈥� Bikko, a 2011 EMU graduate who now works for in Kenya. Bikko, who has been working with refugees and internally displaced persons, saw the classes鈥� approach to dealing with trauma as a way to connect with people who have lost everything.

Both Bikko and Goldberg emphasized the importance of the warm, collegial relationships between faculty and students in making SPI a special experience. 鈥淭here is an understanding that the faculty teach the students, but at the same time, the students, through their stories and wisdom, also teach each other and the faculty,鈥� said Goldberg.

A team of five undergraduate and graduate students, called 鈥渃ommunity assistants,鈥� smooth the way for SPI participants, especially those from foreign countries, by living in the dorms with the participants and organizing grocery store trips, extra-curricular activities, sporting events, and fun outings. They also guide participants to health care if needed, and otherwise do their best to to make them feel welcome, secure, and at home.

Aaron Erb, a graduate student in peacebuilding who is one of the community assistants, described the 24-hour-a-day experience as being both overwhelming and compelling. The best part of the job? The transformative social interactions taking place on a daily basis, he said.

A number of former SPI participants and colleagues from around the world will be returning to Harrisonburg May 19鈥�23 for a special consultation related to the program. Goldberg described this as an attempt to enhance and increase the types of programs offered by STAR, through an analysis of what has worked in the field.

Starting in October 2013, Assefa exemplified the patience and wisdom for which he is renowned in Africa to guide formal and informal negotiations between the government of the Republic of South Sudan and the leadership of the South Sudan Democratic Movement/ Army (SSDM/A). He remained for weeks at the negotiating table, as he gently encouraged representatives of the warring parties 鈥� initially expressing hatred and suspicion 鈥� to keep talking until they found common ground.

These negotiators finally crossed the threshold of the first stage of the peace talks by signing a cease-fire and cessation of hostilities agreement at the end of January. Their military confrontations had caused widespread destruction among the civilian population.

鈥淎lthough it is rare, it is moving to witness a time when those who have labeled themselves as enemies 鈥� and dealt lots of cruelties and suffering on each other 鈥� come to realize their common humanity,鈥� Assefa said in an email from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, where the peace talks were being held. 鈥淭he discovery and rediscovery of the oneness we all share is one of the inspiring and rewarding moments in peacebuilding.

鈥淭he challenge for all of us peace workers and those we work with is how to sustain this realization after the celebrations and random encounters, and to hold it strongly in our consciousness so that it guides our everyday lives and relationships.鈥�

Assefa said an important outcome of the agreement was to create demilitarized peace zones, monitored by international and local observers, and to open up corridors for badly needed relief and humanitarian assistance for hundreds of thousands affected in the area.

Another point of agreement was that the SSDM/A would stay neutral in the current outbreak of hostilities between those loyal to President Salva Kiir (Mayardit) and those loyal to Kiir鈥檚 former vice president, Riek Machar. Assefa said such neutrality would help dampen the national-level conflict and create an environment conducive for the opposing parties to work through their differences through negotiations.

鈥淭his agreement has created an atmosphere of confidence and good will among the parties that should enable us to deal with the political, economic and social root-causes of the conflict 鈥� hopefully with less animosity and intransigence,鈥� Assefa said.

A group of church leaders in the region, called Church Leaders Initiative, invited Assefa to be the lead mediator in these peace talks, after they managed to persuade the leadership of both parties to try negotiating.

The region of Sudan, South Sudan and Darfur has been torn by conflict since the end of Anglo-Egyptian rule in the mid 1950s: the First Sudanese Civil war lasted from 1955 to 1972; the Second Sudanese Civil War from 1983 to 2005; and the Darfur War from 2003 to 2010. The price paid by the people of this region is incalculable. Millions killed and millions fleeing their homes. Women and girls raped. Little possibility of infrastructure development, such as the building and running of businesses, schools and hospitals.

On July 9, 2011, most of the world applauded as South Sudan held a largely peaceful referendum to achieve independence from Sudan and set up a democratically elected government.

Assefa has encouraged South Sudanese leaders and their allies to recall that time of hope in the summer of 2011 and to find a new way forward, where the inevitable disagreements about governing that arise along the way do not mean resorting to brutal warfare.

Barring unforeseen developments, Assefa remains committed to teaching 鈥淧hilosophy and Praxis of Forgiveness and Reconciliation鈥� May 26-June 3 at EMU鈥檚 , where he has taught each summer since 1994.

More on Hizkias Assefa

It鈥檚 because he had to leave his home country of Ethiopia when his friends and relatives were being killed or imprisoned during the Derg鈥檚 13-year military dictatorship.

He got to the United States on a student visa in 1973 and kept plowing through a succession of degrees while his parents were telling him: 鈥淪tay out. Stay where you are, or you will be killed.鈥�

Assefa was able to return safely to Ethiopia in the early 1990s. By then he was married to a U.S. citizen, with two daughters.

In hindsight, Assefa treasures the breadth and depth of his formal graduate studies 鈥� law, economics, public management, and international affairs. 鈥淭he more I learned, the more it whet my appetite to learn more,鈥� he told magazine.

鈥淚 realized the benefit of this broad background when writing my dissertation. Every discipline gave me a different lens for looking at conflict and peace, and it was most useful to integrate them together and come up with a multi-disciplinary approach.鈥�

Before coming to the United States, Assefa practiced law briefly in Ethiopia. 鈥淭here was not a lot of integrity in the profession. It was competitive, and I felt like I was a hired hand for the elite. I felt co-opted into the system.鈥�

Later in Chicago, when he again was part of a law firm, he felt the same discomfort. 鈥淭he lack of integrity wasn鈥檛 as blatant as it had been in the Ethiopian judicial system 鈥� it wasn鈥檛 as crude 鈥� but it was there.鈥� These experiences weren鈥檛 a waste 鈥� he believes studying and practicing law sharpened his analytical capacity and enriched his later work in the peace field.

Assefa turned to economics, earning a master鈥檚 degree in the field, in an attempt to understand poverty. He found economists have 鈥渇antastic ideas鈥� 鈥� 鈥済reat insights鈥� 鈥� but offered little in terms of addressing poverty. If one tries to understand 鈥渆conomics without politics, it鈥檚 like clapping with one hand,鈥� he says. 鈥淵ou need to understand politics to understand the role of power in economic systems.鈥�

Outside of formal graduate programs, Assefa has delved deeply into psychology, philosophy and religion, subjects he needed to 鈥減ut it all together.鈥� As the 鈥渋cing on the cake,鈥� Assefa turned to studying peace and conflict transformation, plus practicing in the field, for 30 years now.*

鈥淭he kind of knowledge needed to be a peacemaker is not easy to define 鈥� I feel it more than I can talk about it. I think we have to start by reclaiming our humanity. Who are we as human beings? What is our place in the universe? What is life itself?鈥� he asks.

鈥淗uman beings are not separate from everything in our environment. We cannot treat our environment as a group of objects to be used as we wish. We are part of an interdependent whole. If we can come to recognize this reality 鈥� that our survival, our well-being, derives from the healthiness of this interdependence 鈥� our attitude will change towards other humans, indeed towards all life and every aspect of living in this world.鈥�

As Assefa gropes for words to describe the lack of awareness among humans about their place in the web of life, he explains that the English language limits his ability to articulate his feelings on this subject. 鈥淚 am writing a book in Amharic now 鈥� though I stopped using it [his native language] 40 years ago 鈥� because it lets me touch on ideas that I can鈥檛 explain in English well. It lets me be less inhibited, less apologetic for exploring [in his book] the non-cognitive aspects of life and being that go beyond regular social science academic discourse.

鈥淪ome of what I want to say is beyond the intellect 鈥� in fact relying on the intellect alone can become a hindrance. It is part of the problem with discourse in the Global North: the main framework is intellectual, with very little room for the affective and spiritual.鈥�

Assefa says there is wisdom in the perception of some indigenous elders that the so-called developed North tends to function as an immature child within the family of humankind, acting impulsively and without much self-reflection. 鈥淚 hope the family will survive the growing-up stage of the child,鈥� Assefa says wryly, adding that socio-economic and military practices of the so-called developed world underlie much suffering in the world today.

When Assefa feels tempted to succumb to despair, he calls to mind miraculous, heart-to-heart moments, like a time in 2006 when he was one of two with whom Joseph Kony agreed to meet in a remote area of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Kony, known to have used tens of thousands of children as soldiers and sex-slaves, had been indicted the previous year by the UN鈥檚 International Criminal Court for war crimes and crimes against humanity.

鈥淎fter being lured into the bush, we were surrounded by armed people. I thought we were being kidnapped,鈥� says Assefa. But when he finally met Kony face-to-face and spoke gently with him, Kony met Assefa鈥檚 eyes and said, 鈥淚 never knew my father. Can I call you my father?鈥� The question touched Assefa to his core 鈥� not that it diminished the enormity of the harm that Kony had set in motion for millions.

鈥淚 felt moved to see a flicker of humanity and vulnerability in this incredibly cruel and overtly invincible human being,鈥� says Assefa. 鈥淚t made me realize that compassion ought to be the starting point for peacework. The work of peacemaking is to nurture these little glimpses, however faint, and bring them out so that they can shine more and light up the darkness in our humanity.鈥�

# # # #

Article originally published in magazine, Fall/Winter 2013.

Gbowee, who shares the prize with and , earned a master鈥檚 degree in conflict transformation from the Center for Justice and Peacebuilding (CJP) at in Harrisonburg, Virginia. She attended CJP鈥檚 Summer Peacebuilding Institute in 2004 and participated in a round-table for Strategies for Trauma Awareness and Resilience (known as 鈥淪TAR鈥�) in 2005.

Gbowee led a nationwide women鈥檚 movement that was instrumental in halting Liberia鈥檚 second civil war in 2003.

鈥淟eymah Gbowee mobilized and organized women across ethnic and religious dividing lines to bring an end to the long war in Liberia, and to ensure women鈥檚 participation in elections,鈥� noted the in making the award. 鈥淪he has since worked to enhance the influence of women in West Africa during and after war.鈥�

Starting in the 1990s

Gbowee鈥檚 links to Mennonites began in 1998, when she received training in 鈥渢rauma healing and reconciliation鈥� and then worked at rehabilitating child soldiers. Perhaps unbeknownst to her, the first trainings in this subject in Liberia occurred when , a Mennonite with trauma expertise, arrived in Liberia in the early 1990s, with funding from and what is now called , both based in the United States.

Hart trained Lutheran church workers who, in turn, trained Gbowee. Hart also arranged for , who became Gbowee鈥檚 friend and mentor, to earn a graduate degree in conflict transformation at EMU. In 1998 Doe became one of the earliest master鈥檚 degree graduates from what is now called the Center for Justice and Peacebuilding, setting the stage for Gbowee to earn the same degree nine years later.

In her 2011 memoir, 鈥�,鈥� Gbowee says she came to EMU because it was 鈥渁n American college with a well-known program in peace-building and conflict resolution. It was a Christian school that emphasized community and service.鈥�

Responding to the Nobel announcement, EMU President said: 听鈥淭he impact that Leymah was able to have, first in Liberia, then in West Africa, and now all over the world, shows that another, nonviolent reality is possible. This affirms the dreams and hopes of groups, educational institutions, and churches that are devoted to supporting peace work.”

鈥淲e plant what we call 鈥榮eeds of peace鈥� as widely as we possibly can, usually through education in peace building theory and skills, and then trust that some of these seeds will bear fruit,鈥� he added.

Seeds of Peace

The woman Gbowee calls her 鈥渢rue friend鈥� and fellow founder of , Thelma Ekiyor, attended EMU鈥檚 2002 Summer Peacebuilding Institute, as did Gbowee鈥檚 first champion and employer in Liberia, Lutheran Reverend 鈥淏B鈥� Colley, who attended the annual institute in 2000 and 2001. At Colley鈥檚 urging, Gbowee read 鈥溾�� by the well-known Mennonite ethicist John Howard Yoder.

Gbowee, who was named , is the central figure in a documentary co-produced by , 鈥�.鈥� Completed in 2008, the documentary is part of a 鈥溾�� series to be aired over five successive Tuesdays in October 2011 on public television stations in the United States.

In her memoir, Gbowee credits with introducing her to the (WANEP), an organization that he co-founded and led after finishing his master鈥檚 degree at EMU. (Doe received EMU鈥檚 annual and now works for the United Nations. His daughter, Samfee, graduated from EMU in the spring of 2011, overlapping for one year with Gbowee鈥檚 eldest son, Joshua 鈥淣uku鈥� Mensah, who enrolled in the fall of 2010.)

鈥淲ANEP, based in Ghana, emphasized using nonviolent strategies and encouraged women to join the effort to address problems of violence, war and human rights abuses,鈥� wrote Gbowee.

WANEP supported the launch of , the organization through which Gbowee and her colleagues conducted the campaigns that played a key role in ending the civil war in Liberia. (This organization is the predecessor to Gbowee鈥檚 current organization, Women, Peace and Security Network Africa.) The WANEP-launched women鈥檚 network鈥攑lus , the grassroots movement led by Gbowee鈥攍aid the groundwork for the election of fellow Nobel Laureate Ellen Johnson Sirleaf as president of Liberia, the first woman president of an African nation.

WANEP is now led byof Ghana, a 2002 graduate of CJP.

CJP Teachings Credited

Gbowee鈥檚 memoir credits two of the founding professors of CJP, and , with strongly influencing her through their writings and teachings.

鈥淚 read Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi and the Kenyan author and conflict and reconciliation expert Hizkias Assefa, who believed that reconciliation between victim and perpetrator was the only way to really resolve conflict, especially civil conflict, in the modern world. Otherwise, Assefa wrote, both remained bound together forever, one waiting for apology or revenge, the other fearing retribution.鈥�

As Gbowee began to attend international meetings pertaining to peace and feeling the need to 鈥渟peak with more knowledge and authority,鈥� she says, 鈥淚 began amassing books on conflict resolution theory: 鈥樷�� and 鈥�,鈥� both by .鈥�

In May 2004, the summer after the Liberian peace accords were signed, Gbowee came to EMU to attend classes at its annual Summer Peacebuilding Institute. 鈥淭hose four weeks were another transformative time for me,鈥� she says in her book, noting that she studied with Assefa at the institute and with, 鈥渨ho taught me the concept of 鈥榬estorative justice.鈥欌��

鈥淩estorative justice was鈥� something we could see as ours and not artificially imposed by Westerners. And we needed it, needed that return to tradition. A culture of impunity flourished throughout Africa. People, officials, governments did evil but were never held accountable. More than we needed to punish them, we needed to undo the damage they had done.鈥�

Women in Peacebuilding at EMU

In June 2011 at EMU, Gbowee participated in a by-invitation conference on the needs of women peacebuilders around the world. Participants included filmmaker Abigail Disney of the United States, of Fiji, of Afghanistan, and , a Kenyan-Muslim woman of Somali ethnic origin who received the 2007 Right Livelihood Prize. (Abdi died in a car accident after returning to Kenya in July 2011.)

鈥淎s a direct result of this conference, we will be launching a women and peacebuilding program at our ,鈥� says , executive director of CJP.

The announcement from EMU on the Nobel Peace Prize award can be found at .

Dr. Alharith Abdulhameed Hassan, 56-year-old professor of psychiatry at the University of Baghdad, was shot while traveling to work on Dec. 6, according to an e-mail sent in mid-January by his bereaved widow, Maysa Hussam Jaber, to friends at 草莓社区.

Both Alharith and Maysa attended trainings under EMU

A long-time professor at 草莓社区 played a key role in the recent cease-fire negotiated in one of the most deadly war zones in the world – northern Uganda, which borders with Southern Sudan and Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Hizkias Assefa, who has taught at EMU’s (SPI) for the last 11 years, co-mediated the sensitive peace talks, working in tandem with the vice president of Southern Sudan, Dr. Riek Machar.

In this region, more than 100,000 people have been killed and two million displaced over the last 20 years, currently described as the globe