Whose Voice Counts? Young people in peace and security research

 Reflections from the OGIP Research Event

Oftentimes young people are sidelined from decision-making and knowledge production in important areas of peace and security. At the end of 2023, OGIP hosted a virtual event to discuss the theme: “Whose Voice Counts? Young people in peace and security research”. The event celebrated the vital role young people play in peace and security research, as well as highlighting the barriers to young people’s contributions. OGIP’s platform is a place for critically engaged research from young people aimed at disrupting 'traditional' methods and voices of research; creating a space for young people to catalyse change and progress in the field of peace and security through artwork, poetry, interviews, podcasts, writing, photography or storytelling.

OGIP research contributor Katrina Leclerc from the Global Network of Women Peacebuilders (GNWP) chaired the panel discussion. Katrina was joined by some excellent panellists and performers, including OGIP partners, Dr. Amjad Saleem from the International Federation of the Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies, Briana Mawby from the Kroc Institute for Peace and Justice, and Dr. Manal Benani from Sustainable Cooperation for Youth Peace and Security. OGIP research contributors, Marie-Jeanne Kenji Maghoma from LAGO and Nikita Yasmin Shah from Hyphen Poetry spoke and performed at the event showcasing some of the incredible research published in partnership with OGIP.

This blog is a reflection of some of the key themes discussed at the event, including the importance of diversity in youth research, co-creation and intergenerational research solutions and the challenges young people face in peace and security research

Reflections from panellist and performer, Nikita Shah

The event asked us to reflect on the important question of ‘Whose Voice Counts?’ in the context of young people in peace and security research. I found the event insightful and inspiring; hearing from peers and engaging in a meaningful exchange.

The discussions as part of the panel demonstrated the need to push beyond discussions of inclusivity and diversity and towards equity, equitable relationships and transformational change. The panel reflected on some important questions: how are we shifting power? how are we making space for others to take power? whose voices are we listening to?

Underpinning these questions is one more - ‘Why?’ To transform power we must continue to question who is visible, whose voice is heard and why we get to hear from some people and not others. Asking these questions will allow us to remove barriers. In the context of research, to achieve this transformational change we must think about who has access, who can contribute, who sets the research agenda, and what methodologies are being used to conduct research. Two ideas put forward by the panellists were the co-creation of research within the community and using story-telling as research.

During the event we considered whether there are more inclusive approaches that allow us to reconsider what knowledge looks like outside Western concepts of empirical evidence. One of the panellists, Amjad, highlighted that whilst research has traditionally focused on achieving the outcomes set by researchers, it is also important to consider what the barriers to access or parameters for inclusion/exclusion are. Research can be conducted in a manner that is not extractive, exploitative or inconvenient to local communities. It is important to break down power dynamics and enable research participants to become co-creators. This includes allowing them to set research agendas, as well as decide methodologies.

Another of the panellists, Maghoma, spoke about the role of storytelling and narratives in more equitable research. Creating space for vulnerability is a prerequisite to building trust and a safe space for people to share their lived experiences and their histories, and to create and grow culture. Storytelling techniques offer an opportunity for connection and a breakdown of power. Amjad added that this work requires humility. Co-creative and interventional solutions can often uncover complexities and details that do not fit traditional researchers' frameworks and tools of analysis. Some research methods require a trauma-informed approach, as well as practises that centre healing and rest. For many researchers and co-creators, this type of work bears a large emotional cost. Such deep work requires proper resourcing and support and should not be treated like a trend.

Towards the end of the event, I had the opportunity to recite my poem ‘Tonight we rest’ a product of my research project with OGIP. Tonight We Rest was an effort to capture the lived experiences of the Global Majority of Self-Identifying Women whilst they fought for justice, equity and liberation in their personal and professional lives within the sector. As I recited the words, I realised that these words, these messages, and these experiences still rang true so long after the original publication. Poetry, like many art forms, offers an opportunity to capture the feelings and emotions of people and to convey these through creative means so others can also experience and find meaning. Storytelling, in the form of poetry, art, music, movement or other allows us to really question ‘Whose voice matters?’.

Reflections from panellist and performer, Amjad

When I was asked to speak on this panel on the subject of inclusion and young people in peace and security, I reflected on the challenges posed by the topic and the difficulty of making meaningful change. I wanted to demonstrate that diversity is a positive disrupting force, particularly in the youth space. It provides opportunities for different ideas to be brought to the peace and security agenda. It helps us to realise that we are much more than a label; that our plurality and diversity are not divisive elements, but a celebration of an understanding of common humanity and universal principles. Being more inclusive allows us to engage with our communities in a different way - forging connections that go beyond superficial interactions.

Through inclusive action, we create a sense of belonging, support, and collaboration. We tap into the collective wisdom and energy that can drive change. Yet, as our discussions surmised, this can be difficult if there is no willingness to accept or understand that Intergenerational dialogue is about passing the baton. It must be about creating a space to dialogue, build trust and, above all, listen. We must listen to the voices of our communities, to the stories of those who are often unheard. We need to understand their needs, their hopes, and their dreams. Intergenerational dialogue is also about collaboration. No one person or organisation can solve all the world's problems alone. Collaboration is the multiplier of impact. When we come together, we can pool our resources, knowledge, and creativity to tackle challenges head-on.

The Global Youth Mobilisation initiative of the Big 6 Alliance - of which IFRC is a member - is an example of how we can create spaces for co-creation with young people and intergenerational dialogue. It allows us to create safe spaces for the sharing of ideas but also provides agency for young people to think of innovative solutions to local problems.

Events like these discussions are important to share these ideas and knowledge between different stakeholders. By creating these forums, we ensure best practices are exchanged and networks are created.

Summary from the OGIP Team

Thank you Nikita and Amjad for taking the time to write on the blog about your reflection on the event and thank you to our panellists and participants that made the event a success. If you would like to hear more about the themes of inclusive action, co-creation of research and inter-generational solutions to issues in peace security, then you can listen back to the podcast of the panel event here.

If you were inspired by what you have read here and want to be involved in youth-led research that pushes for transformational change, we would love for you to be involved in OGIP’s research moving forward.

The two performances in the event were pieces created as part of previous OGIP Research Series. Our first performance was from Kenji Maghoma titled Rhythm and Legislation. This piece explores migration stories and reflects on the role culture plays in both conflict and peace building. The second performance was Nikitah Shah’s ‘Tonight we rest’ which reflects on the importance and benefit of rest. This piece speaks from the collective voice of self - identifying women of colour of varying ages and profession.

OGIP is excited to announce the start of our fourth Research series, and we are inviting our community to join us on this journey. If you are passionate about research, we need your ideas and perspectives to make impactful, transformative research. We are asking our communities to help us choose a research theme for the series so that our community can deep dive on a topic that is important to us all. Please suggest a theme here before the 30th of June 2024.

Biographies of contributors

Nikita Yasmin Shah is the founder of Hyphen Poetry which focuses on creative facilitation, research, evaluation and somatic healing. She is also a poet and dancer and has bridged her practice of art and professional work to develop a creative decolonial lens. Nikita is an OGIP research contributor and will be performing some of her work later in the event.

Dr. Amjad Saleem is the manager of the Volunteer, Youth and Education Development Unit at the International Federation of the Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies based in Geneva, a global team focused on volunteering management, youth innovation and engagement, and education programming.

This originally appeared here

Muttur Siege: Reflecting 10 years on

Ten years is a significant milestone: a decade; a generation.  A lot can happen in ten years and a lot has.  Ten years ago, the smartphone was still a concept that was being tried and tested; MSN Messenger was the way people communicated with each other.

Ten years is also a long time to carry a personal burden, a memory that has been buried deep within yourself, of a trauma that you are unfamiliar with.  So I write this firstly as a cathartic process because it was my first time on the field to be on the front line facing conflict and its aftermath.  I had the previous year moved from my engineering job into working with (and eventually running the country office of) an NGO looking at post tsunami reconstruction but by April 2006, found myself looking very much at the prospect of dealing with a resurgence of the conflict.  This was something I was not prepared for, nor was I prepared for what was on the ground.

This story of the Muttur siege also deserves to be told and kept alive as part of the narrative of the Sri Lankan conflict.  It is often forgotten in the midst of other issues but the mere displacement of 20,000 people is not an insignificant occurrence.

Sri Lanka sadly is not short of milestones of sad significance when it comes to its narrative of the conflict.  Every day, month, year, place has a sad reminder of the bloodshed and suffering the people of this country faced particularly between 1983 and 2009 but if you want to go back, from the armed insurrections of 1971 as well.

Yet the story of Muttur in all of this narrative of the conflict and accountability has remained far from the memory of people except for the Action Contre le Faim (ACF, Action against Hunger) murders.  This is the only time when there is a reference to this, which is unfortunate given what happened around that time and its implications for the rest of the conflict.

Muttur has always been on the front line of the conflict, given its location in the Trincomalee district. With its strategic location, it remains a vantage point for entry into the Trincomalee harbour. Muttur’s 57,000 population, however, is predominantly Muslim and since 1984, the town has come under repeated threat or attack from the LTTE, its physical isolation exacerbated by a pervasive sense of insecurity.

The story of the Muttur siege though starts in April 2006 when leaflets were sent purportedly by the LTTE asking Muslims to leave Muttur (reminiscent of what happened to the Muslim community in Jaffna and the northern province in 1990, which saw the expulsion of close to 75,000 people).  In the preceding weeks the ceasefire between the LTTE and the government would end and the LTTE would seize control of the water supply to the Mavil Aru Anicut, a densely-populated watershed to the south of Muttur. This was followed by a virtual blockade of the town with outer villages suffering from lack of food and no access to livelihood.

By the end of July the government had withdrawn its forces from many parts surrounding Muttur to recapture the Mavil Aru Anicut. Many in Muttur believe that the LTTE occupied the anicut to divert Sri Lankan government forces from Muttur and to relieve pressure on LTTE guerrillas in the area in order to mount an attack on Trincomalee.

In the early hours of 2 August 2006, roughly 150 LTTE cadres occupied the centre of Muttur.  After an initial attempt to reoccupy Muttur was rebuffed, the Sri Lankan military began to shell the town early on 3 August, forcing residents to flee their homes. Significantly, it was among faith institutions that people sought sanctuary. By mid-day, almost five thousand people had converged on the Nathwathul Ulama Islamic College and thousands more in two other Islamic schools in the town, Al Hilal and Ashraff High School and in the town’s three mosques. The Tamil community, Hindu and Christian, took refugee in the town’s Catholic and Methodist Churches while most Sinhalese residents evacuated to a prominent Buddhist temple in the nearby town of Seruwila.

During the afternoon of 3 August, however, two shells hit the Islamic College, killing 33 people (UTHR 2006), and in an atmosphere of desperation, religious leaders sought external help to organise an evacuation of Muttur. Despite this both the Government Agent and the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (UNOCHA) local office at that time seemed ambivalent to the fact that this could happen.  Having spoken to representatives from both agencies personally, I know there was absolutely no expectation (or interest) and plan in the fact that people might evacuate Muttur.

The evacuation of Muttur began after morning prayers on Friday, 4 August, hours before the LTTE guerrillas began to abandon the town to government special forces, with residents walking to Kiliveddi where they were picked up by vehicles mobilised by local civil society including the  Jamiat-e-Ulama (council of Imams). By nightfall, nearly 10,000 Muslims had arrived in the nearby town of Kantale while hundreds of Tamils headed to Trimcomalee via Kantale or south towards Batticaloa district. By Monday, 7 August, more than 20,000 evacuees had arrived in Kantale, and the full horror of the Muttur crisis had become apparent.

However this is far from the end of the story. Arriving people talked about how thousands of terrified evacuees were intercepted by LTTE guerrillas on 4 August and diverted into the jungle at Krandi Rock where at least 5 people died at the hands of the LTTE or as a result of government shelling (UTHR 2008).  In a separate incident, terrified Tamils were stopped near Kiliveddi by government troops who detained 24 men, and then were taken to a police station for processing as potential LTTE members.

In total, nearly 60 people died during the Muttur crisis, including elderly residents who remained in their homes and who died of hunger and thirst.T he Muttur crisis is known for the single worst atrocity ever perpetrated against an international NGO to that date, with the murder of 17 staff of ACF, at their Muttur office. All had been lined up against a wall and shot.  To date there has been no word of who perpetrated the acts although there is suspicion about the government security forces or vigilantes acting on behalf of the government.  Speaking to people displaced from Muttur at that time about this incident, I was struck by the lack of sympathy from many who questioned why when other agencies had withdrawn their staff due to security reasons or had staff join the evacuation from Muttur, there had been a decision to stay. This suspicion still lingers with some members from Muttur today.

For the next two months, the Muttur displaced would remain in Kanthale, a town of some 50,000 people, with a mixed population; 60% Sinhalese, 35% Muslim, and 5% Tamil. Conscious that the inflow of 20,000 people could threaten to overwhelm the local community and exacerbate inter-communal tensions, the government was keen to resettle the evacuees and in October 2006, the evacuees were sent back.   There is of course a lot of debate as to how people were sent back and whether the timing was right, however this is perhaps not the place to write about it.

Muttur remains a defining moment in my life.  For the first time, I was witness to the terrible communal divide in this country.  I remember sitting down to a meeting with the Government Agent (the senior most local government official in the area) to talk about the slow support from the government only to be told “Don’t worry, your (Muslim) ministers and representatives are sorting this out”.  I remember telling him that I didn’t want an MP or a governor who happens to be Muslim to sort this out because many of the evacuees were Muslim, but I wanted the government and its representatives tasked with dealing with such situations to take responsibility because their citizens had been affected. Yet I was struck by a certain disregard, amounting almost to arrogance at his statement.

I saw the potential for partnership between faiths. The Muttur crisis was also the start of a novel partnership between two significant humanitarian organisations with a faith-based ethos; UK-based Muslim Aid and the US-based United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR).  Having been part of that initial partnership, I remain convinced about the possibilities and challenges of partnership among Faith Based Organisations (FBOs) and between FBOs and their secular peers.  This experience  drives me even today to make a case for the important role that faith, faith institutions and faith-based humanitarian agencies have in responding to natural disasters and conflicts, largely because of the trust vested by local communities in local religious institutions and leaders. It demonstrates that cooperation among FBOs across cultural and religious boundaries can undermine cross-community tensions that stimulate conflict.

I also saw the potential for locals and local civil society to bounce back if given the space.  My favourite story from the Muttur crisis is that of the Arafa Nagar bridge. ArafaNagar (A Muslim Village) is a little peninsula within the Muttur town area separated by a small river. The village of Amman Nagar (a Tamil village) is its neighbor. In the late eighties, people of ArafaNagar and Amman nagar were displaced by the conflict to Muttur. After the situation cleared in 2006, people were looking to resettle. Both Amman Nagar and ArafaNagar were looking to return but there was a lack of proper access to the area. People had to take the boat or swim across. There needed to be clearing of shrubbery and damaged buildings and cleaning of wells for water supply. Based on the community’s request, a bridge was built across the river to aid resettlement. In addition, support was offered in terms of gifts in kind for returnees to restart their livelihood. Encouraged by the prospect of a permanent bridge and the support for livelihood, the people of Arafa Nagar got together to build a temporary bridge. People started to return and clear up the land. They put up temporary shelters and started to farm, helped by return kits . Gradually life started to return back to this once forsaken land and communities started to resettle. People of Amma Nagar also returned and there was a chance for communities to reconcile their differences. The bridge was finished and declared open on the 26th of February 2009 in front of the community. It was later handed over to both communities. Visiting that area just after the opening of the bridge in 2009, I saw Tamil and Muslim communities having afternoon tea together with their children playing in the fields and for me in that brief moment in 2009, I felt that there was a potential for communities to come together given space. Even today there is some collaboration and understanding between the religious leaders in this.

Muttur remains an important milestone in Sri Lanka’s narrative of the conflict.  There is understandably a lot of scrutiny about the end of the war in 2009 but regrettably people seem to forget that the whole  period of the conflict has been a time of great trauma and intense suffering.  We focus on the end of the conflict because that is where the world’s attention was pushed especially by lobby groups, yet we have forgotten that the experiments for this started in 2006 from both sides on the conflict with Muttur and continued throughout the final phase of the conflict in 2009.  A lot of what happened at the end of 2009 can be traced back to 2006 but equally a lot of what happened post October 2006 gives some pause for reflection as to what might be if the right conditions are there.

In our quest for Sri Lanka moving forward post conflict, it is important we get a sense of the totality of the narrative and a better understanding from all sides of the conflict.  This will then allow us to holistically frame the reconciliation, justice and accountability perspective. After all we owe it to everyone who has suffered from this conflict through out its 28 year old history.

This originally appeared on Groundviews

3 years on, a hurting stalemate in Sri Lanka

Last month saw the official marking of three years after the end of the 28 year old war that plagued Sri Lanka, killing thousands and setting the country back in terms of development and prosperity.  Yet three years on, it seems that not much has changed.

Whilst Sri Lanka has tried to portray that there has been progress made on the ground largely in infrastructural development, critics have been quick to highlight the lack of tangible progress on reconciliation, in effect  the inertia on implementing internal recommendations for reconciliation, coupled with an ever weakening space for human rights, media expression and democratic freedom.   The recent resolutions at the UN Human Rights Commission in Geneva on Sri Lanka have been testimony to this type of thinking where analysts have not only been critical that progress has been slow on the ground amidst a decline in general rights that are deemed to be core to a functioning democracy, but they have also pointed to the need to keep this on the international agenda.

This is a debatable fact and the Government is not really willing to engage on any real discussion on the issue despite the occurrences as reported in the media of kidnappings and killings. A recent interview between the defence secretary and the BBC is testimony to the extremely sensitive nature of such discussions and criticisms.

It is also not helped by the ongoing international distractions that have prevented it from addressing some of the real pressing issues. Since the end of the war, there has been pressure from parts of the international community, supported largely by many Tamil  Diaspora organizations (some of them aligned with the former LTTE rump) for ‘accountability’ on the conduct of the end of the war and the ‘alleged’ deliberate killing of  Tamil civilians by the Sri Lankan army.

This vociferous call for ‘justice’ from one section of the Tamil Diaspora community which is blatantly anti State and only interested in one thing, which at the surface is not  any  comprehensive reconciliation solution for Sri Lanka,  has been unfortunately conflated with criticisms of the country’s current status.  This lack of subtle differentiation is convenient and means that any discussions critical of the state and its governance is immediately treated with suspicion that it is being done in support of the LTTE.  It doesn’t help as well that those who are often the loudest critics of the country and the government, themselves share platforms publicly with supporters of the LTTE and the creation of a separate Tamil state.

This suspicion from the government’s perspective of any criticism of its actions is somewhat unhealthy as it views with distrust anyone who disagrees with them.  It has also become unhealthy because the real pressing issues of reconciliation, good governance and so on, are overshadowed by trying to react to these allegations and calls for ‘accountability’.

A recent discussion in London at the Frontline club, bears testimony to this ‘Push Me – Pull You’ scenario affecting Sri Lanka.  Pitting the director of the Infamous Channel 4 documentary, with someone from Amnesty International and a representative for Tamils against Genocide,  against  a Government MP and advisor, the stormy discussion ended up rehashing old ground with no actual consensus of how things can move forward and two sides clearly polarised and reacting to one another.    As a consequence, we have a hurting stalemate with no real progress.

There needs to be a change of narrative that seeks a 3rd alternative to the one that is currently being offered by both sides. The 3rd alternative has to be one that starts to look at how the country (with all its constituent communities) can move forward.

The days of looking for black cat in the dark room is over because we now know that there is no cat there’

In the past, the war was a powerful unifying force, giving radical parties a platform for populist agitation and established politicians a diversion from their failure to address economic weakness, social concerns and pervasive corruption.  This shield is no longer there and the government will have to realize that there are some fundamental structural weaknesses affecting the country (in terms of bad governance, corruption and so on) which criticism off, doesn’t make one anti state.  Whilst the task of ensuring a political solution to the grievances of the minorities in a way that ensures that the country moves forward after more than 20 years of conflict, the government

will also have to realize that true reconciliation is a bottom up approach that requires acknowledgement of and engagement with all communities and their concerns.  This in particular means that there is a need to contain the extreme Sinhala Buddhist elements that seem intent on hammering the Sinhala nationalist identity home whilst playing into the hands of the detractors by affirming their criticisms of the country.  Recent incidents in Dambulla with no official reaction from the government have done little to dispel the perception of an erosion of rights for minorities in Sri Lanka.

The Tamil community mainly in the Diaspora have to also learn that by continuously appearing to repeat the narrative of organizations associated with the LTTE or even flying LTTE flags at protests and events such as what happened during the recent visit of the president to the UK,   they will do nothing apart from harden the opposition to them and the perception that they represent ‘ an LTTE rump’.  By flying the LTTE flags, these protestors show that they not only support an organisation that killed many of their own leaders and people, but was also responsible for the recruitment of child soldiers and the ethnic cleansing in the north.  This not bode well for any future discussion of reconciliation, accountability and justice for Sri Lanka.

There will also have to be a realisation that the narrative of the end of the war is not as clear cut as it seems.  If recent media reports are to be believed, a large part of the Tamil Diaspora are themselves responsible for the deaths of civilians in the conclusion of the war, when they refused to put pressure on the LTTE to release the human shields that they were holding.

So the narrative on Sri Lanka and about Sri Lanka has to change.  The Tamils genuinely believed that they were fighting for an identity and to take pride in their ability controlling their own affairs.  Though the LTTE ultimately betrayed their own people on what Tamil autonomy would entail, these

feelings cannot be blotted out by simply eliminating the LTTE but, they can be made irrelevant by the treatment Tamils (and other minorities) receive in the new Sri Lanka.  More importantly it cannot just be done by institutional measures to use Tamil language or to suggest some political autonomy but it will have to be done parallel at the grass roots level where communities need to start trusting one another and accepting them for their differences.

The building of relations of trust is important. By building these relations it is about forswearing the need for revenge and hatred but understanding that there has to be a way of stopping the cycle of unfair pain turning in one’s memory.  In order for this to happen, we have to acknowledge each other’s narrative and hear the other’s stories.  This iintellectual empathy ensures that people who are in conflict with each other will have to acknowledge that everyone has justified grievances and will also allow the disagreement of someone’s view, analysis or policy without doubting their sincerity and loyalty.

This is what we call restorative justice that does not punish nor does it condone evil and absolve the perpetrator of responsibility.  What it does is that it acknowledges that the past is the past and though it has to be honoured must not be allowed to become a ball and chain for the future.

As Ian Paisley said, ‘We must not allow our justified loathing of the horrors and tragedies of the past to become a barrier to creating a better and more stable future.  in looking to that future, we must never forget those who have suffered during the dark  period from which we are emerging’

Restorative Justice is needed not only on the ground but also with  the Diaspora of all communities, who have a lot of interest in what goes on in Sri Lanka and can be used to support post conflict community reconciliation.

Circumstances have now changed  and there is a real opportunity for great advances to be made for the country, not only in laying to rest the ghosts of the past, but to work towards a new political system and era.  Everyone is advocating for a change, tired of the cost that the conflict has inflicted upon the nation, tired of the corruption of the political system, tired of how Sri Lanka has become as a nation and society.

The question is whether communities and stakeholders will develop that 3rd alternative to go beyond the hurting stalemate or whether we will be resigned to wishful dreams of what might have been.

this originally appeared on Groundviews