The Fatal Reality of Perceived Dangers

Recently I attended a workshop in Melbourne designed to take a creative approach to thinking about our career expectations and ambitions. We were asked to draw a picture which represents how we see ourselves in our current roles. My picture depicted a scuba diver surrounded by an array of fish and other sea creatures swimming along but with a huge shark, jaws bared, looming towards the unsuspecting diver. Despite my lack of artistic talent, I was pleased with it as a representation.

For me the ocean has always been a special place.  It's said that if you grow up by the sea you never quite feel at home in a place where you don't have access to it. Well this bounty-advert tropical beach and coral reef ocean (below) was my introduction to the sea and all its splendour. Southend-on-Sea (despite its promising sounding name) was a bit of a disappointment by comparison when we moved back to the UK, but that's an aside.

http://www.protectourcoralsea.org.au/reefs-of-the-coral-sea/bougainville-reef

The point is that for me the ocean represents a richly populated, diverse, beautiful, colourful, exciting, but vast universe. Much like PNG. I will be just a tiny speck in this extraordinary world which brings out the very best and the very worst of humanity. Where the people's love and reverence for the land is often cast aside to enable the unashamed plundering of its natural resources.  A place which is a dichotomous mix of sacred traditions and capitalist expectations.

PNG is known as the 'land of the unexpected' and for good reason. It is an environment which can be as confusing and complex, as it can be infuriatingly literal and superbly logical. It is biologically unique and anthropologically diverse. It bows to no one but endures through its own wonderful loveliness. Much like the ocean.

However, it also represents a whole heap of unknown. As brilliantly exciting as that is, I would be a fool not to recognise the inherent dangers which may lurk in hidden corners, unspoken resentments, and a retributive vengeance which is an entirely accepted form of 'justice' against perceived wrongs.

I was recently engaged in an online discussion sparked by this image.  The man in this photograph was beaten to death by a local crowd after being accused of rape. He hasn't been tried or convicted; the accusation itself was enough for the crowd to assume guilt, and the response was fatal.

I expressed the view that 'mob rule is not justice' and whilst many endorsed that sentiment many more followed the line that he 'got what he deserved'. One particular man replied directly to my comment.  Justice, he proclaimed, was for the 'white man' and this was the black man's way. If I didn't like it I could 'shut the fuck up and fuck off'.  

I don't know anything about this guy other than that he has a university education and is from New Caledonia.  I can't begin to analyse his comment because I don't know his experiences; I have no idea how (and by what) his world view has been shaped.  However the violence and bitterness of that reaction brought to mind the shark lurking outside my line of vision in the picture I had drawn.

Those kind of interactions may represent a latent danger; a sort of hyperbolic mouthing off typified by the 'bigman' culture. Or it may represent a very real threat, one which may appear out of nowhere but is fatal in its consequences.

For Kepari Leniata (a 20 year old mother) mob 'justice' resulted in her being burned alive on a rubbish tip in Mount Hagen.  For Helen Rumbali (a 40 year old former primary school teacher) mob 'justice' resulted in her beheading on Bougainville Island.  Her sister and two nieces were held hostage and subjected to days of torture. For this young woman pictured (Angela) it meant being bound and gagged, humiliated, burned, and gashed with bush knives whilst the leering mob stood by and watched 'justice' being meted out.

Photograph by Vlad Sohkin

In all of these cases the women concerned had been accused of sorcery. The fear and perception of danger which sorcery and witchcraft hold in PNG cannot be underestimated,. Accusations of sorcery also frequently elicit this sort of brutal and vindictive response. There was no justice for these women, but the mob felt that they had obtained a just outcome.

What justice means for me and what justice means for that man in New Caledonia are clearly worlds apart. What is clear though is that a just outcome and justice are not always the same thing.  The recent case of George Zimmerman is a perfect example in my view. A young black man (Trayvon Martin) lost his life when a white vigilante decided to take matters into his own hands because of a perceived (but entirely absent) danger. Despite that young man having committed no crime and posing no threat to Zimmerman, and despite the case being dealt with through the legal 'justice' system in the US, there was not a just outcome in my view.

I stand by my comment that mob rule is not justice, and I don't apologise for it. I don't believe that mob rule serves justice; nor do I recognise the perceived right of the mob to take matters into their own hands. Even if the man beaten to death was guilty of rape, it does not justify the actions of that mob in my opinion. The mob who accused Kepari, Helen, and Angela of sorcery believed just as fervently that an injustice had been committed as the mob who took the life of the accused rapist. 

To some (including the gentleman from New Caledonia) my comment might be interpreted as some sort of neo-colonial imposition of western values.  It could be perceived as an imperialist judgment on the way that disputes and criminal matters are often dealt with in PNG.  But it is not about a western agenda and nor is about the colour of my skin.  The value structure which frames my reference point is grounded in a firm commitment to human rights, and any delivery of 'justice' should (for me) be rooted in those principles. 

I don't believe that 'justice' is for any particular group of people any more than I believe that an entitlement to human rights is conditional upon the behaviour of individuals.  Respecting human beings as equal unequivocally and universally is a premise upon which I believe that all societies should be structured whatever our nationality, place of residence, sex, national or ethnic origin, colour, religion, language, or any other status.  Affording people dignity based on those inalienable rights should be our vision, and it should guide our treatment of individuals, no matter what they are accused of.  Having a 'justice' system which respects, upholds and advances those principles is therefore something that should be strived for.

When we allow a mob to be empowered based on perceptions of what constitutes a just outcome, we endorse an anarchic form of so-called 'justice'. One which is violent, dictated by emotion, and perpetuates a base humanity governed by self. Where greed, corruption and incompetence pervade a legal 'justice' system I recognise the frustration which can lead to such reactions, even though I cannot abide the abhorrent manifestation of that protest.

However, I also recognise keenly the dangers lurking just out of my vision as I start my journey through this oceanic universe.  Brilliant, inviting, and richly rewarding but full of hidden dangers - latent, real, or perceived but also potentially fatal.

For more on gender perceptions in PNG and the 'bigman' culture read this excellent article Gender Issues:  The Heart of the Matter is in the Mind of a Man by award winning PNG blogger Martyn Namorong.

Louise Ewington