As we rounded the corner I heard a shout, and saw a warrior stalking towards us. He carried a knife, and slowly but deliberately moved in our direction. He loped up the hill, threatening and gesturing, accompanied by two small boys. Covered from head to toe in mud and wearing a fearsome mask, I recognised him immediately as an Asaro Mud Man. This was our welcome to the village.
The legend goes that a tribe from Asaro, Simbu Province, Papua New
Guinea, was engaged in a vicious battle with a warring tribe. Recognising that
they were losing ground and therefore losing the battle they retreated to the
river and hid. The water level was low and so they covered themselves in mud,
hoping that it would provide them with some camouflage. As their enemy
approached they stood up to fight; a last stand for the honour of their people.
Forgetting that they were covered in mud they didn't anticipate the
reaction that they got. The mud had turned their normally dark brown skin a
dusty grey. Terrified, the enemy thought them to be ghosts and fled, leaving
the Asaro Mudmen as the victors in battle.
It's the sort of story that everyone loves; the underdog coming through to defeat its enemy. We are constantly bombarded with these kinds of stories in books and movies. But tribal warfare in PNG isn't some fictional tale which you can suspend disbelief to enjoy, and then switch off and walk away from. It is a brutal reality in many areas, particularly in the Highlands. The pride and honour which the Asaro mud men were fighting for still exists, but in many cases it doesn't have the bloodless ending that this legend depicts.
It's the sort of story that everyone loves; the underdog coming through to defeat its enemy. We are constantly bombarded with these kinds of stories in books and movies. But tribal warfare in PNG isn't some fictional tale which you can suspend disbelief to enjoy, and then switch off and walk away from. It is a brutal reality in many areas, particularly in the Highlands. The pride and honour which the Asaro mud men were fighting for still exists, but in many cases it doesn't have the bloodless ending that this legend depicts.
As we were driving recently along the Daulo pass we saw a crowd
gathering. There was a palpable tension in the air. Towards us came groups of
men, carrying bush knives and shouting. Unsure what had caused the trouble or
whether it might escalate, everyone in the vehicle suddenly went very quiet. We
recognised the risk of being caught up in tribal warfare and it wasn't a
glamorous Hollywood fiction. They were real emotions, real weapons, and
therefore represented real danger.
After we had passed I asked what they had been shouting, hoping to get some sense of what had triggered the tension. "They were warning the crowd that there would be fighting." Julie said. I was confused. So why was the crowd just sitting there then? Why weren't they running in fear of their lives, or at the very least making themselves scarce? "Those people sitting and watching probably weren't from either tribe" Julie explained. "So they won't be part of any fighting."
In this area at least, those from tribes not involved in the fighting will often watch, albeit from a safe distance. I grimaced, thinking about being a voluntary spectator to that kind of violence, as enemies took bush knives and axes to each other. But I was wrong. Very wrong.
It's not about enjoying violence, and nor is it some twisted spectacle. It is a sort of informally formalised system to ensure that the rules are followed. Although to an outsider the violence may look wanton and indiscriminate, it is often highly structured. Those not involved can act as independent witnesses. They can give evidence as to how each tribe behaved during the battle at any subsequent village court hearing. They might act as mediators after the event. In effect it is a kind of bush version of the UN. Most importantly though they will remove from the fighting and care for warriors who are wounded in battle. We think about international warfare as being regulated by rules of engagement and international law, and often tribal fighting is no different. We may not understand the structure of it or the rules that those tribes employ, but that isn’t to say that they don’t exist.
After we had passed I asked what they had been shouting, hoping to get some sense of what had triggered the tension. "They were warning the crowd that there would be fighting." Julie said. I was confused. So why was the crowd just sitting there then? Why weren't they running in fear of their lives, or at the very least making themselves scarce? "Those people sitting and watching probably weren't from either tribe" Julie explained. "So they won't be part of any fighting."
In this area at least, those from tribes not involved in the fighting will often watch, albeit from a safe distance. I grimaced, thinking about being a voluntary spectator to that kind of violence, as enemies took bush knives and axes to each other. But I was wrong. Very wrong.
It's not about enjoying violence, and nor is it some twisted spectacle. It is a sort of informally formalised system to ensure that the rules are followed. Although to an outsider the violence may look wanton and indiscriminate, it is often highly structured. Those not involved can act as independent witnesses. They can give evidence as to how each tribe behaved during the battle at any subsequent village court hearing. They might act as mediators after the event. In effect it is a kind of bush version of the UN. Most importantly though they will remove from the fighting and care for warriors who are wounded in battle. We think about international warfare as being regulated by rules of engagement and international law, and often tribal fighting is no different. We may not understand the structure of it or the rules that those tribes employ, but that isn’t to say that they don’t exist.
Ok, so there will no doubt be a request for compensation where they have helped
or saved a wounded tribesman. But people also know that if they are involved in
tribal warfare themselves, there may be a tribe watching who can do the same
for them.
Of course, as with any war, the fact that there are 'rules of
engagement' doesn't mean that serious injuries or death are not likely
consequences. Julie described to me being a 7 year old huddled in her house
along with the women and other children as they heard the battle that their
tribesmen were fighting getting closer and closer to the
village.
Fortunately for her, their tribesmen were able to push the enemy back which
saved their land and their people. I asked her what would have happened if they
had breached through the defences and got to the village. "They would have taken any young girls that they wanted to marry
back with them" she said, "And
anyone else, well, you know..." I did. The possibility that those
women and children might have been raped, tortured, or murdered didn't need
articulating. I knew what she meant.
"Fortunately", she
added "that doesn't happen so much
anymore". What she had described to me was the last time her tribe had
been involved in a battle. There has been 25 years of peace since then for that
community. However, for some communities
that is not the case. Memories run deep, and emotions run high. Barely
concealed tensions bubble beneath the surface of day to day transactions and
tenuous amnesties.
Recently near Mount Hagen, Western Highlands Province, several people reportedly
lost their lives after two grenade attacks on the Kambia clan, allegedly by the
Wambea clan. James Apa Gumano of The National Newspaper wrote on 14 November
2013: “A team of police officers left Mendi yesterday for the remote area
where members of the Kambia and Wambea clans have been fighting each
other. Kambia clan member Jacob Walega
said yesterday more than 2,000 members of the tribe had left their villages to
seek shelter among neighbouring tribes in Kagua-Erave electorate...Walega said
that the Kambia people were conducting a mass burial on Tuesday morning for the
34 people killed in a grenade attack on Mondat at Karex village when they were
attacked again.”
Guns are not uncommon in PNG, but it is understood that this is the
first time munitions of that nature have been used in tribal warfare. So whilst many communities are working
towards peace, the violence between others may escalate as payback ensues. The
use of weapons such as grenades is a worrying development but not entirely
unsurprising. PNG has a border with Indonesia which is almost impossible to
secure, and the illegal importing of weapons is rife.
Moreover it follows an attitude which is commonplace among some in PNG.
As Martyn Namorong, the award winning PNG Blogger puts it: "The rage and venom that ensues is thus
disproportional. That is the nature of all disproportional violence in PNG,
from wife beating to large ethnic conflagrations triggered by small incidents
of bag snatching. It has to be disproportional in order to show the other party
that 'mi em man tru na yu no man' [I'm an ace; you're just a waste of
space]."
But where will it end? How can a grenade attack be topped? What will be next?
But where will it end? How can a grenade attack be topped? What will be next?
Imposing external military
style interventions won’t change deeply embedded social norms that underpin
tribal warfare. But respecting local culture and working with partners
from within, overiods can have an impact. Importantly that includes working at many
different levels, and with many different groups, including traditional
leaders, women’s networks, community based organisations, individuals, the judicial
system, and the police.
However, it is important that
this issue is also tackled at International level. During the negotiations for the
UN Arms Trade Treaty which was passed earlier this year, His Excellency Mr
Robert Aisi, the Ambassador and Permanent Representative of PNG to the UN
reported:
“For Papua New Guinea, we have
and continue to support the inclusion of small arms and light weapons in a
final arms trade treaty…Papua New Guinea has experienced the effects of illegal
use of small arms and light weapons. The proliferation of these weapons pose
serious challenges to the effective maintenance of law and order, development
aspirations and our national security.”
In recognising this I sincerely hope that the PNG Government ratifies
the Arms Trade Treaty as soon as possible.
What should also be recognised is that whilst there are still challenges
to be faced, there are many communities in PNG (like Julie’s) which realise that
violence spawns nothing but violence, and are working towards building more
peaceful and secure futures. They recognise the value of conflict resolution
and know that in some situations the bigger man walks away rather than turning
to fight.
I feel privileged
to work with a number of communities for whom that is the case. Guided by
inspirational leadership and a shared common understanding of the divisive
nature of tribal warfare, those communities have recognised for themselves that
a collaborative and non-violent future is of infinitely more benefit to their
tribes, than a never ending cycle of brutal violence and payback.
I just hope that the sort of inspirational attitude gains momentum before the arms battle escalates further. Building a more peaceful future for the people of PNG,
whilst also respecting importance of tribal identity and celebrating the rich
cultural heritage within those communities, is a critical step on PNG's journey.
That is a future worth fighting for, but in a respectful, peaceful and
non-violent way!
Louise Ewington