All roads lead to Juba: Two Sudans and a world of peace professionalsby Matt Meyer and Light Aganwa

Activist educators and organizers will be familiar with the Freirean adage that we “pave the road by walking”1.—a consciencizing notion (associated also with Fanon2. and Horton) that our collective naming of the world and taking action in it is fundamental to all social change. The path of the professional peace researcher must then, by definition, be paved with many choices. Peace studies and pedagogy as a field and form of study is built on the choices we make to move in clear directions: towards familiar voices, towards comfortable icons, towards places and spaces near and dear to us, towards deep-seated contradictions, towards our students, towards one another for sharing and insights and community. And while any field as multi-disciplinary and diverse and open as ours must understand that there can never be any singular “correct” direction to take or choice to make. Surely there are some roads less traveled that would benefit from our scrutiny, and from which we would benefit from journeying upon as well. It is from this standpoint that we look forward to Juba, South Sudan in mid-November 2022. For those with only a passing interest in contemporary African politics, one can be excused for not knowing that the Republic of South Sudan, obtaining sovereignty in 2011, is the world’s youngest officially recognized county. With a history that includes conflict with neighboring Sudan and civil war, the country has nonetheless enjoyed peace and a fair level of stability for some years now. It is also the home of one of the continent’sstrongest and most vibrant peace and nonviolence associations, led by a PhD in peace studies. That organization—the Organization for Nonviolence and Development (ONAD)—builds upon a legacy that predates the country itself, with strong links to Catholic, Protestant, and Muslim clergy and lay people. Their practices in training, popular education, mediation, and use of indigenous African peacemaking methodologies offer sophisticated strategic and tactical possibilities to the field that have been obscured by the outsized prominence of the Global North’s more visible “peace groups.”3. ONAD leaders sit on the global councils of the oldest pacifist groups in the world, maintaining strong connections to the International Fellowship of Reconciliation (IFOR), the War Resisters International (WRI), and the more recently formed Pan-African Nonviolence and Peacebuilding Network (PANPEN), founded in 2012.4. The title of this editorial derives from the fact that, even amidst the uncertainties of an unexpected global health crisis, several gatherings are being planned which will likely substantially shift the thinking and work of major forces within what we think of as “the peace movement.” First, IFOR will hold its first Africa-based Council meeting, combined with an event open to the public, in that organization’s 107-year history. While IFOR has had affiliates and branches throughout the continent, with strong alliances in both French-speaking and English-speaking countries and a rich history which includes courageous staff people from South Africa who were at the forefront of that country’s anti-apartheid movement, its avoidance of a formal and official IFOR-wide gathering on African soil has long been a point of concern. The timing of this decision, when many have shied away from international travel altogether, is bold indeed— particularly because South Sudan has not been the “go to” place for these types of conferences and meetings for any group.5. Taking their lead, IPRA’s main African affiliate—the African Peace Research and Education Association (AFPREA)—chose Juba as the location for their biennial academic conference, which will take place at roughly the same time as the IFOR activities. The proximity of time and place raises hope for organic collaborations and crossovers between the two organizations, their memberships, and their visions for a 21st century which will not rest and rely on 20th century notions. Conversations are now under way within other organizations about convening activities during the month, including the world’s oldest coalition of peace groups, the International Peace Bureau which was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1910 (as were 12 of the bureau’s leaders at various points over the years). Friends and colleagues from such regional groups as Solidarity Uganda and the Beautiful Trouble network, Pax Christi, and the Resistance Studies Initiative are also contemplating their roles in building a major coming together. The convergence of these networks in Africa is significant, first because there has been precious little significant integration, or even communication, among many of them. That this coalescence of peace researchers and practitioners would take place in Africa, and in Africa’s newest nation-state, suggests a growing recognition of the need for a decolonization of intersecting peace studies and peace action perspectives. Geographically recentering our collective inquiry outside of the Global North highlights the insufficiency of looking solely to its institutions for answers about how to make practical peace. As some of us have written in at least a quarter of a century of publications, we have much to learn from Africa about how to make our efforts effective and fruitful. Perhaps Peace & Change co-founder Elise Boulding said it best when she wrote that it is time for peace scholars to stop writing, teaching, and learning about Africa but learn from the many African approaches to peacemaking which the rest of the planet has only begin to show interest in.6. That interest, if pursued the wrong way, could begin to look like a “scramble for African peace studies”—with pockets of scholars from the western world “discovering” an African colleague and publishing a chapter or book here or there (invariably claiming it to be the “first” book of its type!) without looking at the continent as a whole and forging links among and between African practitioners, providing support and platforms for their own voices and work. If done correctly, all fields—African peace studies, international peace research, and truly global peace action partnerships—could develop. But even that lofty goal is not, in our view, the main reason that Juba 2022 is of vital importance. It has been far too uncommon a practice among peace academics and activists to look towards conflict areas as a means of working towards lasting resolutions and justice. The 2016 openings of Juba’s Good Shepherd Peace Centre7. and the South Sudan work of Nonviolence Peaceforce are exciting indeed, yet it is also true that practical, cross-cultural (and cross-country/cross-continental) conversations about the transformation from conflict to lasting peace are in only in their very early stages.8. It is a rare and historic opportunity for leading South Sudanese organizers and scholars— with vast experience in their own country and across the region as activists and critically engaged academics—to invite the world (or a small section of the world’s peace people who might read this journal and related ones!) to work hand-in-hand with them on examining recent history and developing strategies for the future. Consider the potential for a transformative impact upon our global networks of peace scholars if we deepened the connections from south to north and south to south while moving closerto zones of conflict which are robustly struggling to become zones of peace: It is for these reasons that for those who work for peace, all roads should lead to Juba. There are, it should be noted, always “good” fiscal, logistical, and other practical reasons why endeavors such as this one should never be even attempted. Though IPRA has a proud history of formal support of our African colleagues, with successful conferences already held in South Africa (twice), Sierra Leone, Nigeria, and Kenya, we must recount that before one of these events a noted “internationalist” who has also been tied to foundation grants said to us privately in a revealing moment of concern about whether we could do it: “I will never travel to Africa.” The shock on my face must have been evident, as he added: “Oh, maybe Morocco!” I immediately recalled when, as a teenager from the USA, I attended my first global peace gathering, held in Western Europe, though advertised as and intended for a fully global audience. I was energized by the amazing array of people of all ages speaking countless languages, with the same broken rifle symbols and peace signs in so many colors and emblazoned with phrases unrecognizable to me. My teenage self was also so dismayed that not a single representative from the entire African continent was present, and I shifted my studies to African History upon my return to the US. Forty yearslater, an anniversary conference of thatsame “internationalist” organization featured zero plenary speakers from Africa among their featured guests. We can no longer continue to pretend to be internationalists and peacemakers while ignoring large parts of the planet. One “good” reason for concern about the Juba plans is that there has been conflict in the region, even though South Sudan has been calm. Light Aganwa, a leading member of ONAD and regional representative of IFOR, was stuck in Khartoum, Sudan during the conflicts of October– November 2021. And though not in personal danger, he was unable to return to his home in Juba till some weeks later than planned. In a note to colleagues, his take-away was that Sudan provided lessons to be learned, not reasons to fear. In a posting titled Sudanese Challenges to Civilian Rule, 9. Light noted that on October 25, 2021, the military leaders of Sudan took over the country, dissolved the transitional government, and imposed an immediate state of emergency. The military placed Prime Minister Abdallah Hamdok under house arrest, as the news of the takeover broke on social media. Although the coup made headlines around the world, it may not have been as noteworthy as speed with which multiple pro-democracy groups, including the Sudanese Professionals Association (an umbrella group of professional organizations that spearheaded protests throughout 2018–19) took to the streets. They called on the population to protest in defense of their “revolution.” Then, on October 30, 2021, the Professionals Association and the members of Freedom and Change called for a massive peaceful demonstration, which sparked protest across the country. The protesters blocked several roads in the country while barricading and burning tires as crowds chanted “Civilian for Civilian Means Democratic Civilian Led Government!” Others were chanting “Freedom, Peace and Justice.”10. Despite the harsh encounters the protesters faced from the military, the Sudanese citizenry remained adamant in their calls for a return to civilian government. In should be noted that in the weeks before the military takeover, some civilians staged a sit-in in front of the presidential palace calling for the dissolution of the civilian government. In an apparent response, thousands of pro-democracy supporters also took to the streets to demand expedited reform and the implementation of a justice agenda. The Sudanese people, and the youth in particular, are refusing to give up on their revolution, which ended 30 years of autocratic rule in 2018. For many of these people, the changes brought about, even by the civilian government, did not live up to the aspirations of the popular uprising. For us, the prevalence of violence in the Sudan might be seen as a result of an implicit acceptance of violence by all of the ruling elites. This short synopsis of recent events should lead to increased interest in further examinations of the roots of conflict and the potentials for change. Yet some non-Africans involved in planning the Juba events saw this neighboring struggle as reason to consider calling off the events. From the opposite point of view, greater understanding of the power of civil resistance11. in South Sudan’s northern neighbor might have led more careful observers to suspect that, by the end of November 2021 the headlines might read: “Sudan military agrees to reinstate Prime Minister and release political detainees.”12. It is not our job to make future peace predictions or pretend to be able to foretell (or even vastly shape) history before us. As peace professionals, however, it is our job to engage. If we are to successfully build a future with greater peace possibilities than in the past, it seems simply logical to engage with places less comfortable, convenient, or filled with the calm of a university library. We may well be sorry that we cannot travel along all roads ahead of us, taking both paths at once as Pulitzer-winning US poet Robert Frost once mused. When faced with our impossible choices, peace academics of the privileged places and spaces of the world would do well to stretch and expand our horizons.