In The Middle:
Non-official Mediation in Violent Situations

by Adam Curle

Mediation

Mediators, as the word implies, are in the middle. This is true in two senses. Firstly they are neither on one side nor the other; secondly they are in the centre of the conflict, deeply involved in it because they are trying to find a satisfactory way out of it.

Although mediation is considered here in the special context of violent conflict, it is a universal human role. All of us, perhaps even the most intractably aggressive, have practised it occasionally. We may not have called it that when we tried to persuade members of our family or friends or colleagues to see each other's point of view and stop bickering about some trivial issue. But mediation it was: we were the people in between those who had fallen out, on fairly good terms with both, not taking sides though often pressured to do so; not personally implicated in the dispute, but worried about the situation and hoping to improve it.

What mediators do is to try to establish, or re-establish, sufficiently good communications between conflicting parties so that they can talk sensibly to each other without being blinded by such emotions as anger, fear and suspicion. This does not necessarily resolve the conflict; mediation has to be followed-up by skilled negotiation, usually directly between the protagonists, supported by a measure of mutual tolerance and by determination to reach agreement. But it is a good start.

This would apply whether the conflict were between individuals or nations, and irrespective of culture, political ideology, or religion. Although the circumstances of an international dispute, economic, political and strategic, are very different from the emotional tangle of, for example, a marital one, both ultimately focus on human beings who have to make decisions and to act, and whose passions, fears, hopes, rage and guilt are much the same whoever and wherever they are. This, at least, has been my experience.

Within the context of violent conflict, the forms of mediation may differ considerably. Some involve short-term missions having a very specific objective, such as those of Terry Waite to secure the release of captives in various parts of the world, or the shuttle diplomacy of a Henry Kissinger hurrying, often without great success, between one capital and another. There is also the longer-term work of United Nations officials such as Dag Hammarsj` ld, Brian Urquhart or Sean McBride, struggling year after year to resolve one bitter quarrel after another.

These and many other patterns may be useful and appropriate. What I shall discuss is mediation usually of long duration, carried out by non-official groups or organisations, churches or other religious organisations, charitable bodies, academic bodies, or concerned individuals without institutional backing (although individuals without such support tend to experience difficulty in launching and maintaining their mission, suffer considerable strain and naturally incur considerable costs). I shall not speak of UN mediation, most valuable though it is; the aegis of a great international organisation creates conditions, occasionally less favourable where there is unilateral distrust of it, different from those pertaining to both governmental and to private or non-official mediation. What I have to say derives from direct experience of mediation initiated by the Quakers who, of the half dozen or so organisations I know of that have worked in the field, have the longest and most varied experience, as well as from efforts which were personal although carried out with much help from others.

It is perhaps hardly necessary to emphasise that those engaged in private mediation are never, so far as I know, paid, except for their expenses. Nor do they, being constrained by the need for confidentiality, make money or achieve any ego-enhancement by such means as writing articles or giving interviews. Their mediation is perhaps more appreciated because in no sense influenced by the profit motive; there is no reason why they should submit to considerable trouble and inconvenience except to contribute if possible to the reduction of human misery. In the same vein, I sometimes point out to people that I have been retired for several years and would sooner spend my old age at home than gallivanting around the world.

There are, of course, some disadvantages to non-official mediation. There is not automatic entrŽe, such as an ambassador would have, to recognised authority; there is no established source of intelligence information; there is no help in making appointments and travel arrangements, and with secretarial chores, all of which may be a considerable burden in some conditions; above all, there is no power such as would be enjoyed by the representatives of an important country who could reinforce arguments by a combination of threat and promises. Oran Young (1967, 1972) concluded that private intermediaries without political power and resources, lacked the 'saliency' to achieve major diplomatic results.

There is, however, one very considerable advantage. Paradoxically, it derives directly from the major disadvantage. The protagonists with whom mediators work soon discover, if the mediators act correctly, that their sole motivation is concern for the suffering occasioned to both sides by the conflict, and determination to do everything in their power to reduce it. They are not concerned with who wins or loses, they do not take sides, considering the only enemy to be war and the waste and suffering it brings; they are consistent in their honesty, concern and goodwill. Unlike official diplomats, however humane they may be, their aim is not to promote the policy of their own country; by contrast it is recognised that a country's office representative must carry out the instructions of the country he serves, even if they go against the best interests of the one to which he is accredited. Thus in certain respects the non-official or private mediator may be confided in and trusted more than the official. A further advantage of the private position of mediators is that they may be disavowed if for some reason they cause embarrassment, or even expelled from the country without causing a diplomatic furore; they are both useful and expendable.

What then do these people do? First of all if, as may well happen, they are not already well known or have not been specifically invited in, they must get approval for a visit to the country or countries concerned and then gain acceptance from the people with whom they must work, preferably key members of the governments concerned -- this process will be considered shortly. Their proper work, when it actually begins, is to open up better communications between the warring parties. This includes such tasks as taking messages from one side to the other, usually enlarging on the implications and the meanings behind the message; they do a considerable amount of explaining the motives and intentions of one side to the other; they interpret the statements or the cryptic 'smoke signals' sent up by either combatant; they correct wrong information and mistaken impressions obtained from statements and speeches by leaders of the other side, they attempt to identify the common interests of the protagonists; they make suggestions about how to improve communications between the protagonists and how to avoid obstacles to reaching a settlement; they try to establish friendly relations with as many people as possible especially decision makers, on both sides; and they try to keep as well informed as possible about the situation so that they can speak about it constructively without making fools of themselves and so discrediting their ability to act in an informed and helpful fashion. In order to carry out these tasks they may often have to make difficult and even dangerous journey, seek people out in remote camps, and suffer some of the discomforts and privations of wartime conditions. Although they hope for friendly relations with all concerned, they will probably also make enemies, for there are always some who do not want peace, the hawks who think that it would be possible to get a better deal by continuing to fight. A mediator who favours peace, especially if listened to sympathetically, may be a threat they would wish to dispose of.

We should also consider what mediators do not do and what they are not. They are not negotiators. Negotiators are concerned with the nature and details of any settlement being considered and with the bargaining by which it is achieved. They are usually representatives of the conflicting parties and so by no means impartial. Mediators, on the other hand, have no partisan view on the character of a resolution. By the same token they would consider it improper interference to promote their own solution; their job is to facilitate an acceptable one by helping to clear away obstacles of prejudice and misunderstanding that impede the protagonists in reaching an agreement together. This is not to say, of course, that mediators may not move between the negotiating parties trying to help maintain good communications.

Mediators should also be very cautious of involvement in conflicts in which one side obviously possesses far more power than the other and is genuinely confident of victory. The reason is not that the weaker, and often oppressed, side should not be forsaken, but that mediation simply will not work. The strong are not going to heed any appeal for clemency or compromise. Why should they? They are confident that they can get what they want without giving an inch. If they do not reject the idea of mediation outright, they use the mediators to do their own dirty work by proposing terms to the weak which are tantamount to surrender; terms which, if accepted, would in many cases simply restore the conditions that led to war in the first place. Mediators can only make it clear that they will have no part in such trickery; their purpose is to work for a just and harmonious peace, not the passivity of subjugation. Submission at this stage without any resolution would in any case most probably be followed by a renewal of the conflict, for no situations are permanent.

What else can mediators do in such circumstances? Firstly, before they withdraw, they must ensure that their evaluation of affairs is really correct, that the strong are implacably obdurate, or that the weak have not chance of matching their power and so engaging in fair negotiations. Even if they decide they were in fact right, it could still be wise to try to build up relationships, perhaps with opposition leaders or significant non-official people, which could initiate mediation when/if the situation eventually changed. For example, friendships made by some mediators with Zimbabwean African leaders several years beforehand greatly facilitated mediation when that became possible.

Mediators may possibly decide that they must temporarily abdicate that role and its impartiality to throw in their lot with the weak; this is purely a matter of personal conscience and judgement. However, if they do decide to serve the victims of violence directly, their best and most appropriate role may be to help empower them through understanding their situation more clearly, and organising and practising non-violent resistance. I might add that in different circumstances, rightly or wrongly I have responded in all these ways.

A major feature of this sort of mediation is its long duration, running often into several years. Admittedly there have often been brief mediations, persuasive arguments brought to bear upon the parties in a quarrel that has suddenly flared up and which, when tempers have died down, is as speedily put right. More often, however, what seems superficially like a short mediation is only an incident, even if a crucial one, in a process that started before and will continue after it; such was the mediation that led to the Camp David agreement; there a process lasting days was preceded by a long preliminary period and is still in some sense going on.

The truth is that peace making of any sort is likely to be a very long process. The greatest virtues for mediators are hope and patience, for during the period they must stick with the intransigent problems of peace making endless obstacles arise, often when the prospects seemed brightest. Sudden changes on the battlefield, the replacement of a 'dove' by a 'hawk', some external intervention, a rumour, a tactical error, may all demolish months of painstaking preparation for a peace initiative.

But the work of mediation, by its very nature, can seldom be carried out speedily and for the very same reason that conflicts cannot be terminated speedily: they depend more upon human perception than on external circumstances, the former being more stubborn and hard to influence than the latter. In the slow move towards negotiation, settlement and the eventual restoration of fully peaceful relations, the significant stages are the changes of vision rather than the signing of agreements that result from them, the gradual erosion of fear, antipathy and suspicion, and the slow shift of public opinion. By contrast, the cessation of actual violence as a result of military victory may lead to a speedy settlement which usually is by no means peace in the sense of harmony and mutual regard. The victors dictate terms which cannot be refused, it is as simple as that.

It is therefore appropriate for mediation to be carried out by non-officials who do not run the risk of being transferred but who can remain with the job, consolidating the relationships on which all peace making depends and following the ramifications of the unfolding situation, the rise and fall of the various actors.

To become associated with such a mediation is to make a commitment to becoming an element in a scene of conflict for a significant period of time. Those I have been involved with have lasted up to four years and never less than two. My colleagues (when I had any) and I were not of course on the spot the whole time; I, for example, would return to my base at home or university and resume my usual activities of teaching and writing and being a husband and father. But the war is never far from the surface of thought, there are letters and telephone calls about it, many meetings in various places; the suitcase remains metaphorically and often literally packed. We keep in touch as closely as possible, debating the meanings of new developments, planning the strategy and timing of the next visit. As soon as we accept this role, we accept responsibility for playing a part in a terrible drama; and the part must go on, unless an understudy can be found, until the tragedy is over.

It may be of interest to consider the way in which mediation begins. Sometimes an organisation, or perhaps more likely an individual, is directly approached because of her/his reputation, and asked to mediate, perhaps on a very specific issue. S/he will then no doubt agree and go ahead with whatever support from her/his organisation is available. Where there is not a direct approach the entrŽe is obviously more difficult. In my necessarily limited experience it may happen in a way that is either haphazard or to the contrary well planned. In one case I visited a scene of violent conflict because I was interested in what was happening. It was only after repeated visits that I found I had worked myself into a job, was known to and accepted by a number of people, and that my toing and froing between different groups appeared to be welcomed. So I continued for several years until circumstances made continued work less productive that it had been and I was asked to take part in a more urgent and at the same time more hopeful enterprise. But his kind of more or less solo effort is not often possible, if only for financial reasons.

A more organised effort also tends to begin the concern of an individual for a particular situation which s/he then brings to, for example, the Quakers. Then (speaking only for the Quakers with whom I have been through the process several times) the sequence is likely to be something as follows.

The individual discusses the issue with the appropriate group within the Quaker organisation and a preliminary decision is reached. This might be to explore further; to say 'no' because it is impracticable (there might be no qualified person to undertake it) or it might have lower priority than other projects under consideration; it might be referred to another branch of the Society of Friends, possibly the Australian Quakers if it is a conflict in the Pacific area; or it might seem that the main need is for relief rather than diplomacy.

If, however, it is decided to examine the matter in greater detail, more people will be consulted. Visits will be paid to the local representatives of the parties concerned, to the Foreign Commonwealth Office in London, the State Department in Washington, to the appropriate branches of the UN in New York and Geneva. The purpose of these visits will be to get further information on the situation; nothing will be said about mediation, because it would be premature to do so.

If these early enquiries appear to favour the possibility of eventual mediation, the next step might well be a reconnaissance. A small group of people will visit the ambassador(s) of the nation(s) involved to express their distress at the suffering caused by the conflict. They will ask if there would be any objection to visiting the country concerned to learn more about the situation, as their organisation feels that media reportage is inadequate. The usual response would be to welcome such a visit since it would 'enable you to see through the lies of our enemies'. It is the first demonstration of the mirror image that the representatives of each protagonist tends to make a similar observation, each implying that they are honest, peace-loving and truthful, while their foes are the opposite.

If all goes well, the reconnaissance team sets off. There will probably be two or three individuals: one is too few as the combined judgement of two or three is desirable; four is too many -- they constitute a delegation to whom senior officials speechify rather than converse.

In general the team will find that people are only too willing to talk. It will have time to listen, time after time, to almost identical recitals of the wrongs inflicted on them, and of the unrivalled barbarity and ruthlessness of their enemies.

But the transition from fact finding to mediating has yet to be made. The simplest crossing of the gap occurs when the team tell some senior person that they are going to visit the other side and ask 'is there anything we can do for you there?' The answer might be, 'I would be very interested in your impressions', of 'if you see so and so, you might say…' and perhaps a message of some slight significance may be given. I have guessed that such responses are made as much to test the objectivity of learning anything useful. A friend and I met with a good example of this during the Nigerian civil war. At an early stage of our work, before we had met General Gowon, the head of the Nigerian military government, the Quakers had a tentative plan for a secret meeting of senior people of both sides. This, it was thought, could be more effective than previous efforts which had been spoiled by publicity. Such a proposal could be agreed to only by Gowon, but we had great difficulty in making an appointment. Various fairly senior officials tried to arrange one, but we were told that they were always vetoed by someone called Mr King, whom we imagined to be a white adviser, a sort of eminence blanche (in fact he turned out to be a Nigerian and became a close and valued friend). However, at length the permanent secretary of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs thought our idea was good, and overrode King. We had a meeting with the general, who was slightly interested in the proposal but doubtful over our proposed visit to Colonel Ojukwu, his enemy, the Biafran leader.

'He will simply use your visit for propaganda purposes', he said, 'claiming that the Quakers support his cause.' We assured him that we would give Ojukwu no cause to say that, and asked if he was actually asking us not to go. 'No,' he answered, 'but please don't say anything that could be taken to mean that you are going at my suggestion . It would be a dangerous mistake for him to think I was taking that sort of initiative. 'Moreover,' he continued,' you will have to fly on one of rebel pirate arms-carrying planes which my fighter aircraft have orders to shoot down. I am afraid I could not make any arrangements for the safety of your particular flight.' We assured him that we would be tactful in our dealings with Ojukwu and that we were prepared to risk the possible dangers of the flight. He then said: 'When you see him you might tell him that in the event of a cease fire agreement I shall order my troops to halt their advance and arrange for a neutral buffer force to safe-guard the cease fire.' This in fact was an advance on previous conditions. Gowon finally wished us well and said he would be very interested to hear of our experiences and impressions if we returned safely, which he hoped we would. We did, and were given an immediate appointment with the general, who greeted us very warmly. This was the beginning of a very good working relationship which lasted throughout the remaining years of the war.

This is how one mediation began. There had been a round of meetings and discussions at the UN in New York and at Washington, and there had been a reconnaissance lasting several weeks. But the real mediation did not start until we were given a specific message to deliver by General Gowon, returned with a response (not in fact an acceptance, but the idea remained alive) and, as was shown by monitorings of the Biafran radio, our visit had not been used to promote our own publicity or the Biafran cause. The fact that we had been prepared to face a certain amount of danger for no personal gain also counted considerably in our favour on both sides. After this the scope of our activities increased greatly in all the four categories of mediatory work which will be considered in the next section. I should add that in cases where extreme ideological differences are involved coupled with rigid stereotypes derived from them, the process of gaining acceptance may last much longer and be infinitely more complex.

We have discussed some of the intrinsic difficulties of peace-making. To these must be added those peculiar to mediation.

The essence of these is that mediators are trying to bridge with friendship the hate-filled gulf between people who may well be killing each other and so generating the paranoid anger and suspicion that justify ghastly excesses. How can the protagonists trust these people who claim also to be on good terms with their sworn enemies? In fact it seems to be a tribute to the genuine desire for peace and essential good sense of most of the leaders I have met, that they were able to tolerate and even develop warm relations with such ambiguous characters.

It is certainly true, however, that mediators have to be constantly alert lest an unguarded word give any suggestion of favouritism of the other side. For example, to refer to Northern Ireland as Ulster to a Republican or as the Six Counties to a Loyalist would immediately put impartiality in question. Even the most tentative suggestion that one accepts the enemy's case, or their explanation of a particular happening, re-arouses suspicions that had been lulled by months of tactful and consistent good will. On two occasions in my experience during the Nigerian civil war (the Biafran war) other branches of the Quaker organisation concerned, not knowing of the mediation, issued statements implying sympathy with the starving Biafrans. Although the mediators had known nothing about this, a shadow was cast temporarily over their relations with the Nigerian leadership; if these relations had not already been very good, they would no doubt have been broken off. (On the subject of Biafra, to have referred to it as such would have been disastrous; we used instead the euphemism 'the other side')

Of course there is not question of concealing from one side one's relations with the other. This is central to mediation. If mediators did not inform X that they were going to visit Y who he hates, they might be spared some embarrassment, but they would be suspected of doing something even worse. If, moreover, they were caught in deception they could be thought of as spies or informers. In any case their usefulness as mediators would be over. No, it is best at all times to be honest and open. It is only by unswerving truthfulness, friendliness and concerned impartiality that mediators earn the conditional right to be on good terms with both sides.

But here let me interpolate another difficulty. Mediators must indeed be truthful if only because even the whitest of lies would, in this highly charged atmosphere, be a proof of mendacity. On the other hand, they must also be true to their principles; they are thought to be motivated by moral values rather than profit and hope of advancement, but any lapse would throw doubt on the probity. They must, however, not only be truthful but tactful. These three demands upon them may sometimes come into conflict.

Suppose some atrocity is committed, are they to make no protest, in which case the sincerity of their principles will be questioned; or are they to say they are shocked and horrified, thus possibly seeming to imply sympathy with the enemy, and so giving grave offence? Perhaps the best approach is to express sorrow, but in a way that suggests no blame except to the practice of war, which makes such tragedies, committed by either side, inevitable. Faced with this dilemma, I have usually found that taking this line did not violate my conscience. If, however atrocities are denied or attributed to the enemy with suspicious regularity, mediators must decide whether to risk a blazing row, or to remain pointedly silent.

In the early stages of their work, attempt may be made to use mediators in various ways. In particular the protagonists try to win them over to their side. This appears to be a fairly natural impulse of those engaged in conflict, but if successful, it would obviously subvert any efforts at real mediation. However, if leaders really want the possible fruits of mediation, they soon get the message and exchange the potential propaganda value of 'converting' the mediators for collaboration with them. There are also, however, more subtle ways in which mediators may be used. They may be asked to give messages that are intentionally misleading, suggesting, for example, that one side is eager for negotiations when it really hopes to lull the foe into a false sense of security, facilitating the preparation of new positions or the launching of a surprise attack.

It is not always easy to guard against such dishonesty, though at the outset it may help to make a firm but diplomatic statement that any manipulation will mean immediate withdrawal. Fortunately, once their suspicions are aroused, mediators are usually in a position to consult with their own head-quarters and/or other concerned and knowledgeable persons on the spot. These might be officials of various embassies, representatives of international agencies, the Commonwealth Secretariat, the OAU and other bodies. In fact, such contacts and consultations are a regular feature of mediation. As a mission proceeds, a network of involved people is developed including such as I have just mentioned as well as members of local churches, human rights organisations, academic institutions and so on. Mediators are seldom completely on their own, though they must always guard scrupulously against revealing what has been told them in confidence -- if they did so they would never again be trusted and their mission would be ruined. They must also beware of excessive intimacy with or dependence on friends, for example in their own embassy; such intimacy might be taken to imply bias.

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