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  A letter from Tracey King in Nicaragua  
             
  August 2001

Dear Friends:

I was letting my fears take me over. It was exactly what they wanted—to intimidate me into abandoning the peace process in Chimix, a community known for its paramilitary activity.

Outside, before the town meeting began, an officer of the public security forces approached us. "Why are you here?"

"Just a visit," we responded.

"What kind of visit?"

"We’re here from the church." We kept our answers short, not wanting to explain that we were in the first phase of our 18-month project seeking peace for Chiapas. But he continued interrogating us, demanding our names, our nationalities, and our reason for being there.

Once inside, the first thing I noticed was the back wall of the classroom, or rather, a sheet of black plastic with a strategically placed eye-level slit. On the other side were the same officers who had just been questioning us.

Eyes were watching me through the slit. Seventy-five men and six women were waiting to hear what we brought to this community. I wasn’t thinking clearly, yet I couldn’t let their intimidation stifle my words. Many others had struggled to overcome their fears in this quest for peace and justice.

So I began to speak. I told about the war in Nicaragua (1979-1989) that divided people, communities, and families. And how despite the political manipulation creating these divisions, the people united to facilitate the dialogue that eventually lead to reconciliation and peace. We talked about the hope that Chiapas could learn from the 1980s Nicaraguan Peace Commissions and create their own.

Talking in front of that audience, especially those eyes, wasn’t easy. But I believe evil is the obstacles that stand in the way of achieving peace, and a commitment to peacemaking means pushing forward despite whatever impediments appear. Watching the conflict in Chiapas mount over the last seven years, I have noted many obstacles to peace. Standing in that room, my own fears made those obstacles suddenly very personal.

The armed Zapatista uprising on January 4, 1994, called the world’s attention to the unjust circumstances facing the indigenous peoples in Chiapas, the southern most state of Mexico. The government responded with "low-intensity" warfare, militarizing the region and intimidating the inhabitants. This climaxed in the massacre in Acteal on December 22, 1997, in which 45 members of the civil society group "Las Abejas," mainly women and children, were killed. Acteal is one community in the Tzotzil municipality of Chenalhó in the highlands of Chiapas. Chenalhó defines the boundaries within which live one language group within the Tzotziles, an indigenous people of Mayan descent. "Las Abejas" is a group of primarily Catholic Tzotziles who openly support the political agenda of the Zapatistas but are biblically dedicated to a peaceful process toward justice.

In opposition to the Zapatistas has been the PRI (the Institutional Revolutionary Party, in power for more than 60 years until it lost the presidential elections a year ago). Close relations between the PRI and Protestant (primarily Presbyterian) churches whose conservative Christian doctrine teaches an unconditional acceptance of civil authority based on Romans 13:1, have allowed religion to be used to manipulate this complex political conflict. This has created extreme tension in communities where Zapatistas and their sympathizers are present.

In the final months of 1997, tension in the region intensified as PRIistas (PRI supporters) accused the Zapatistas of several ambushes and the killing of 19 PRI members. PRI-affiliated paramilitary groups were formed. Thousands of people on all sides of the conflict fled their communities out of fear. Members of "Las Abejas" fled to communities like X’oyep that have become refugee camps, while PRIistas gathered together in town centers often living for months in the school. It was this violent atmosphere that culminated in the massacre of Acteal and further divided the Catholics and Presbyterians.

Recognizing the growing division amongst their people, several Tzotzil religious leaders, namely catechists from "Las Abejas" and pastors from the Presbyterian Church, came together to fast and pray. After several meetings of this kind, they approached SIPAZ (the International Service for Peace) asking for ideas and accompaniment.

Familiar with CEPAD’s (Nicaraguan Council of Protestant Churches, where I am assigned as a Presbyterian mission co-worker) successful work in the 1980s in developing local Peace Commissions to create spaces for distinct groups to dialogue, SIPAZ invited us to participate.

Our three-person CEPAD team joined representatives of "Las Abejas" and the Presbyterians in San Cristóbal de las Casas for the first face-to-face encounter. Although much tension had been broken the previous day through interactive games and reflection, there was still a lot of fear and little mixing amongst the participants.

Scripture brought us together. We focused on the story of Jacob and Esau, their family battles and road towards reconciliation. The result was a rich reflection and interpretation of God’s message for us today, and a reminder that the Bible is an incredible tool and guide, one that we can share as Christians from whatever political persuasion.

All were captivated when we began to share about Nicaraguan history and the experiences of the Peace Commissions. And then it was our turn to learn from them.

Over the next two weeks we visited three "Las Abejas" communities and three Presbyterian communities. In each, we met with the people, shared about the project and listened to them as they spoke of life within a war zone. We walked through the mountains, down paths dominated by military guards. We saw children with machete scars and missing fingers and heard the survivors’ first-hand accounts of the horrors of the 1997 massacre in Acteal. We heard rain pelt down on the metal roofs, knowing how weakly constructed the houses in the displaced communities are built, and how they’ve been living like this for almost four years now. We listened to a community as they explained the events that led to the "revenge" killing of 45 men, women, and children who were fasting and praying for peace as they were murdered. We stood talking for over three hours with 50 or more people huddled together under a tarp in the pouring rain, as they listened with rapt attention. One community even received us with a band and cheering.

Everyone who shared their stories with us concluded with a yearning for peace: to return to their communities and live safely together once again.

The government has done little to help the situation. Three days after the massacre, Chenalhó’s Municipal president called a meeting of local leaders and various community members. On their way to this meeting, many were stopped on the road and arrested by the federal government. Several other arrests have since taken place, and the government has yet to offer evidence justifying these actions. Currently in Cerro Hueco (the federal prison in Chiapas) are 88 prisoners accused of participating in the massacre, including the Municipal president and 44 Protestants, which has fomented more religious and political tension and division. Over 3 ½ years later, the verdict and sentencing of these men has yet to be decided, and many more arrest warrants are pending.

It became evident to me that the issue of the prisoners is essential to the peace process in Chenalhó. In every town, we heard people speak of justice for the arrested, while others sought reckoning for the crimes committed. We prayed with the wives of the accused and heard from others hiding from arrest warrants as they seek to provide for their families. The common desire for reconciliation is evident, but there is an even stronger call for justice. That is where the real challenge lies. For "Las Abejas," justice means the conviction of the prisoners. The Presbyterians are insisting that many of the arrested are innocent. For them, justice means their release.

The deeper we delved into the issues, the more questions presented themselves. What about the intellectual leaders of the massacre? Who supplied the training and arms to the paramilitaries? Do the paramilitaries really exist? Would a full investigation lead to the implication of government officials? What about the other actors in the conflict: local, state, and federal governments, the army, state security forces, paramilitaries, Zapatistas? With so many complex players, why are the peace commissions focusing on religious dialogue?

Rather than entering the political arena and prematurely negotiating issues such as the return of the displaced to their communities of origin, the reduction of military presence and the disarming of paramilitaries, we are approaching this from a faith perspective and are looking for roads toward the reconciliation of a divided people. Our hope is that the common faith of "Las Abejas" and the Presbyterians can bring healing, reconciliation, and strength to the entire peace process, including the political.

Countless times I found myself asking, why am I here? What is my role in all this? What do I possibly have to offer? At the end of one of our meetings, an older man who was listening attentively throughout the two hours spoke up. "You bring us a methodology from Nicaragua," he said. "But what you carry in your hearts is what calls our attention. That is what we hope for: to have peace again. Thank you. Please pray that we can reach true peace."

I may not be clear on what my exact part is in this process, but I am certain that God is guiding us and has reasons for placing me here. In the midst of a Catholic/Presbyterian divide, it does not go unnoticed in the communities when I introduce myself as a Presbyterian missionary. Our Presbyterian presence is valued, and I believe that through my involvement PC(USA) has been invited to accompany this process.

Beyond that, I know it is my faith that drives me in my commitment to peacemaking. Although the road is full of obstacles, we must keep our eyes on God’s promise of the Kingdom and our integral role in making that become a reality here on earth. It is that commitment that I have to offer. That shared commitment to peace has brought us and the Tzotzils of Chenalhó together to learn from each other.

I learned not just about the war, but about a people. On our way out to one of the communities we passed by a bakery and I bought a small loaf of bread to share. A friend of mine pointed out a heart design on top of the bread, explaining that the heart plays a vital role in the Tzotzil culture. Rather than a typical "how are you?" greeting, the Tzotzil people ask, "C’uxi avo’nton?" Literally translated as, "What does your heart say?" In a discussion on the word "forgiveness," it was explained to me that their understanding of the concept is to "let it fall from your heart," a beautiful image to hold as we reflected together on true peace. And yet even more beautiful when I learned that the Tzotzil word for peace is "jon o’ntonal," which means that we all share one heart.

We will continue to learn from each other in the next phase of the project when representatives from "Las Abejas" and the Presbyterians spend two weeks in Nicaragua learning from the Peace Commissions in Nueva Guinea and sharing stories with the Mískitos on Nicaragua’s Atlantic Coast. The training will continue as we return to Chiapas several times over the next 18 months to accompany the Tzotzils of Chenalhó in the creation of their own Peace Commissions in their most divided communities.

I look forward to sharing more with you over the next months, as we continue walking together. This is a delicate process with so many factors going against it. Prayers for the success of the project have been felt thus far and we appreciate all your support. Along with the continued need for prayers, the project also still lacks full funding.

For individuals who would like to support this work, contributions may be sent to: Central Receiving Service, Section 300, Louisville, KY 40289. (Churches can also contribute, but should send contributions through their usual receiving site, probably the presbytery.) Write the ECO number (#447102) and the name of the project ("Peacemaking in Central America Offering") on the subject line of the check and put it on your cover letter, too. Send a copy of the cover letter to Area Office for Central America, Mexico, and the Caribbean at 100 Witherspoon St., Louisville, KY 40202-1396.

Blessings and peace,

Tracey King

The 2001 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 251

 
             
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For more information contact Peter Kemmerle (888) 728-7228 x5612, Anne Blair (888) 728-7228 x5373, or Bruce Whearty (888) 728-7228 x5628 - Or write to: 100 Witherspoon Street, Louisville, KY, 40202

 
     
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