post-war reconstruction in central america: lessons from el salvador, guatemala and nicaragua

8/7/2019 Post-War Reconstruction in Central America: Lessons from El Salvador, Guatemala and Nicaragua

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Post-war reconstructionin C entral America:

Lessons from El Salvador, Guatemala,and Nicaragua

Patricia Ardon

Translated andadap ted byDeborah Eade

An Oxfam W orking Paper


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This work was first published in Guatemala City in May 1998, on behalf of Oxfam GB, as Lapazy losconflictos en C entroamerica, CIDECA (Consejo de Investigaciones para el Desarrollo de Centroamerica).English text first published by Oxfam GB in 1999Reprinted by Oxfam GB in 1999 Oxfam GB 1999ISBN 0 85598 405 8A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library.All rights reserved. Reproduction, copy, transmission, or translation of any part of this publicationmay be m ade only under the following conditions: W ith the prior written permission of the publisher; or W ith a licence from the Copyright Licensing Agency Ltd., 90 Tottenham Court Road, London

W 1P 9H E, UK , or from another national licensing agency; or For quotation in a review of the work; or Unde r the terms set out below.This publication is copyright, but may be reproduced by any method without fee for teachingpurposes, but not for resale. Formal permission is required for all such uses, but normally will begranted immediately. For copying in any other circumstances, or for re-use in other publications, orfor translation or adaptation, prior written permission must be obtained from the publisher, and a feemay be payable.Ava ilable from the following agents:USA: Stylus Publishing L LC, PO Box 60 5, Herndon, VA 20172-0605, USAtel: +1 (0)703 661 1581; fax: + 1(0)703 661 1547; email: [email protected]: Fernwo od Books Ltd, PO Box 9409, Stn. 'A ', Halifax, N.S. B3K 5S3, Canadatel: +1 (0)902 422 3302; fax: +1 (0)902 422 3179; e-mail: [email protected]: Ma ya Publishers Pvt Ltd, 113-B, Shapur Jat, New Delhi-110049, Indiatel: +91 (0)11 649 4850; fax: +91 (0)11 649 1039; email: [email protected] K rishnam urthy, 23 Thanikachalan Road, Madras 600017, Indiatel: +91 (0)44 434 4519; fax: +91 (0)44 434 2009; email: [email protected] Africa, Zimbabwe, Botswana, Lesotho, Namibia, Swaziland: David Philip Publishers, PO Box23408, Claremont 7735, South Africatel: +27 (0)21 64 4136; fax: +27(0)21 64 3358; email: [email protected]: Mkuki na Nyota Publishers, PO Box 4246, Dar es Salaam, Tanzaniatel/fax: +255 (0)51 180479, email: [email protected]: Bush Books , PO Box 1958, Gosford, NSW 2250, Australiatel: +61 (0)2 043 233 274; fax: +61 (0)2 092 122 468, email: [email protected] of the world: contact Oxfam Publishing, 274 Banbury Road, Oxford OX2 7DZ, UK.tel. +44 (0)1865 311 311; fax +44 (0)1865 313 925 ; email pubiish@oxfam .org.ukTypeset in BaskervillePrinted and published by Oxfam GB , 274 Banbury Road, Oxford OX2 7DZ, UKOxfam GB is a registered charity, no. 202 918, and is a member of Oxfam International.

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Contents

Acknowledgements 4Preface 5Introduction 6Chapter One: The importance ofanalysing conflicts and p eace-bu ildingprocesses 8Chapter Two: The peace negotiationpro cesses in Central Am erica 15Nicaragua 18El Salvador 27Guatemala 36Chapter Three: International NGOsin Central Am erica 48Chapter Four: Conflicts and peace inCentral America some reflections 60Appendix 1 70Appendix 2 72Notes 75Select bibliography 75


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Acknowledgements

I learned a great deal during my years withOxfam GB, and had many remarkableexperiences. I hope also to have made my owncontribution. I was privileged to know someextraordinary people; not only did we sharemany thing s, we also suffered and laughedtogether even in the midst of situations thatwere often difficult and dangerous. But aboveall, as someon e who was and rem ains p art of theprocess of change for the people of CentralAmerica, I have had the chance to learn. Mythanks to Oxfam GB, and particularly to the

Mexico and C entral America regional team , forthe patience and support they gave me inpreparing this paper.This work is dedicated to all those who livedthrough the conflicts in Mexico and CentralAmerica, and who still hope for a better future;and especially to those who shared with me the irsufferings and their joys. And to Patricia Miller,Adolfo Herrera, Luisa Maria Rivera, MarthaThompson, Pauline Martin, Deborah Eade,Morna MacLeod, and Guadalupe Salinas: foreverything we experienced together.


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Preface

This study originated as a proposal to reflect onthe expe rience of Oxfam GB ' in C entralAmerica d uri ng the 1980s, both to contribute toits 'institutional mem ory' of working in situationsof armed conflict, and to trace the relationshipbetween its previous and current work in theregion. Oxfam's wider interest coincided withthat of its Central American counterparts 2 inreaching a deeper understanding of conflict-resolution as a basis for th eir own work. This ledto the idea of analysing the formal peace-negotiation processes in the region and seeinghow civil-society organisations (CSOs) hadparticipated in them, particularly in Guatemala,El Salvador and Nicaragua.

During the course of undertaking this study,I conducted more than 40 interviews withmembers of NGOs, popular organisations :i,churches, grassroots organisations, women'sgro ups , and ex-combatants. Sadly, much of thisrich material was lost in a burglary. Thereforethe study draws heavily on other docum ents, aswell as on my own notes and recollections, andon the limited a mo unt of bibliographic researchthat I was able to conduc t.It soon became obvious, however, that theterms of reference were too wide and the studyproposal over-ambitious. In addition, havinglong been compelled to respond to events inCentral America, 1 had rather under-estimatedthe value of 'academic' work (not entirely

without reason, given how seldom it is of anypractical use). Th us I did not fully a ppre ciatethat the problem was not just one of time, butalso one of having a sound researchmethodology. It was also clear that it was notfeasible to produce something that would be ofequal use to all the intere sted partie s, for even ifwe share a common purpose, our agendas,priorities, and dynamics ar e all very different.As a result, this study draws on variousdifferent concerns, not all of which have anobvious connection with each other. I trust,nevertheless, that it serves as a basis u pon whichto reflect more deeply on issues relating tohum anitarian en deavou r in situations of armedconflict, such as conflict-resolution, partic-ipation, international co-operation and forms ofintervention, and the dilemmas associated withthe transition from war to peace. All these arecen tral to the work of Oxfam as well as to that ofthe organisations it supp orts aro und the world.

More importantly, the se issues directly affect thelives of the po or m ajority in C entral Am erica.But the reality I present is itself part of ahistory that is in so many ways still fragmented;both at a personal and at an institutional level,since so much experience remains locked in thememories of those with whom we workedduring the 1980s. Let us hope that one day,the re will be a chance to brin g tog ethe r all thesefragments within one institutional memory.


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Introduction

Today, conflict and conflict-resolution havebecome 'buzz words' not only amonginternational agencies, but also am ong the localand regional actors who are now facing seriouschallenges on the difficult road towardstransition. Transition to what, of course, remainsto be seen. One hopes that it will be a transitiontowards societies that are just, in which peopleare free to think and to make a real contributiontowards building a new future, unhindered byempty stomachs, by constraints on our right toparticipa te, by repression, or by injustice. On theone hand , it is fascinating to see th e way in whicha growing number of people and organisationsare internalising these issues, and finding ways tointerpret and practise them in their lives andtheir work. On the other, I fear that we may bepreoccupied with the topic of conflict-resolutionfor the wrong reasons to demonstrate that weare not m ired in the past, that we are capable ofputting forward realistic proposals, that we arenot armchair radicals but know what we aretalking about. Most importantly, we talk thelanguage of conflict resolution in order to showthat we know what we want to say in relation tointernational co-operation. If this seems over-anxious, it is because I believe we must always beon our guard to ensure that we are genuinelycontributing to those processes of change thatboth derive from, and support, the people and not just focus on the needs of institutions.

Like many other parts of the world, CentralAmerica has recently emerged from a painfulperiod of its history, though one which was alsotremendously creative and constructive even inthe face of adversity. Mexico, the 'older sibling'who is on the point of join ing the First Wo rld,offers a warning against the false idea that thebeginning or end of the Cold War between theformer super-powers is what defines thebeginning or the end of the conflicts in CentralAmerica. Ideologies may infuse and influenceconflicts, but they do not determine them: inCentra l America, these conflicts are linked to thelack of access to resources, to participation, tocreative channels for people's frustrations, totechnologies, and to the basic stan dard of livingthat every citizen of the world should enjoy, aswe stand on the thre shold of the 21st cen tury.

But with globalisation, those who are alreadymarginalised will become even less visible, andhave even less access to the resources that theyneed. In other words, what is taking place is thevery oppos ite of what experience tells us needs tohap pen . Unless, perhap s, this trend makes senseto those w ho are willing to let the weakest go to thewall? Or, ra ther , who want to 'stabilise' the trend ,given that w ithout the 'small' people, the big onescann ot survive? If stability and the absence of warhave become a mechanism by which the world'spoor are reduced to becoming the slaves of therich few, then we non-government organisations(NGOs) must ask ourselves very seriously whatour role is: are we working to change the situationof people living in poverty and suffering as a resultof conflict - or are we merely alleviating the worstof their pain without addressing its causes? Wemust therefore ask ourselves why, and how, weshou ld help to resolve conflicts.

International co-operation played animp ortant part in supporting Central AmericanNGOs, popular organisations, and grassrootsgroups, both during the wars and during thepeace processes. One of the harshest criticismstoday, however, is of the agencies' lack ofanalysis of the implications and problemsassociated with the transition from armedconflict to peace-building. Many CentralAmericans believe that international aidagencies are today developing their strategieson the basis of their own assumptions, ratherthan on th e capacities of those concerned , or onwhat is really achievable.

None of the negotiation processes in CentralAmerica could have proceeded until the rootcauses were recognised as lying in the unequalpower structures characterising the region, andthe chronic an d com prehensive exclusion of thepoor from participating in shaping theirsocieties. However, as this paper will show, theformal processes (all of which were con duc ted ina highly secretive manner) responded more toexternal pressure for stabilisation than toqualitative changes in the underlying causes.Civil-society organisations did gain the chanceto particip ate in political life, and to put forwardtheir own proposals. However, the various


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Introduction

accords failed to address the economic, social,and structural problems in any depth. On thecontrary, the neo-liberal economic model willtend to deepen the gulf between the rich an d thepoor, a nd deprive most people of access to basicservices. Increasing poverty and the failure tocomply with certain accords is alreadygenerating conflicts, and these are in turnimpeding the reconstruction of the materialinfrastructure and of the social fabric which thewars destroyed. In addition, repression and warhave left significant psycho-social scars. Women,children, and ex-combatants face particulardifficulty in channelling their problems problems which go beyond individualexperiences alone, and affect entire com mun itiesand societies.

Th e ope ning chapter of this pape r reflects onthe nature of conflict and identifies variousapproaches to conflict-resolution and peace-

building. In Central America, most of theconflict-resolution efforts were focused on keyactors or on the formal leadership structures.Experience shows, however, that the greatestcapacity to facilitate peace-building processes isat the middle or intermediary level, if there issufficient trust and mutual respect among thevarious parties . Chapte r two outlines the peace-negotiation processes in N icaragua, El Salvador,and Guatemala, focusing on how differentsectors of society participated in, or wereexcluded from, these. Chapter three exploresthe role of international co-operation inprolonged political and armed conflicts such asthose in Central America. The final chapteranalyses the insights gleaned from variousinterlocutors in the region and draws out somegeneral conclusions on the role of internationalaid agencies both during a period of armedconflict, and in the post-conflict phase.


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Chapter One: The importance of analysing conflictsand peace-building processes

International co-operation andconflictGovernments, multilateral agencies (MLAs),do no rs, and various internationa l events have allhelped to make conflict and conflict-resolution amajor concern in many parts of the world. Thisinterest has been stimulated both by the need tofind new ways of approaching conflict, and bythe need of various organisations to re-definetheir roles and structures in the face of contem-porary conflicts in a post-cold war world. Therole of the United Nations (UN) is particularlyaffected by processes of internal restructuringand reviews of working methods.

Why has the theme become so important atthe prese nt time? It is not because the n umb er ofmajor a rm ed conflicts has increased although,if we include 'minor' armed conflicts (defined asthose in which at least 25 people are killed in anyone year and in which the state is one of thewarring parties), there was a rise from 13 in 1989to 22 in 1992.4 But the increase in the level ofgen eral violence world-wide is not mirro red by arising incidence of major armed conflicts involv-ing entire populations.

Setting these facts about violence and armedconflict against the widespread perception of asignificant rise in armed conflicts, we must takeinto account the massive changes in informationtechnology over the same period. W e can now beswiftly informed not only about the eruption ofarmed conflict anywhere in the world, but alsowitness its crudest expression and effects. Thismay well shape our view of the number andna ture of today's armed conflicts, comp ared withthose in years gone by. Moreover, several factorsdetermine what we get to know about a givenconflict. Apart from the commercial mediainterests, which define the importance of infor-mation on the basis of whether it is 'topical' or'spectacular', there are political interests at stakewhich can ensure that a curtain of silence is drawnover a major conflict. Further, internationalcoverage of arm ed conflicts isoften biased becauseof the risks faced by reporter s and journalists insituations whe re their safety and ability to functionprofessionally are not gua rantee d.

The result is that we fall into the trap ofassuming that no news means no conflicts, andbecome victims of disinformation. Such factorsplayed a role in the Cen tral Am erican conflicts ofthe 1980s, and particularly in the case ofGuatemala, where they resulted in a lack ofinformation about what was happe ning n ot onlyinternationally, but also within the c ountry itself.During the cold war, many armed conflicts inthe South were seen (and treated) by mostNorthern governments and MLAs in ideologicalterms. Relatively little attention was paid to theunderlying structural conditions (for example,patterns of economic or cultural margina lisation),although these were central both to the cause a ndto the possible resolution of these conflicts in thelong term. Instead, armed conflict tended to beseen as a form of confrontation between thesuper-powers, reflecting the ideological differ-ences at the 'cen tre', played out on the territory of

their Southern 'satellites'.Between 1989 and 1992, however, some 82armed conflicts were registered in 60 locationsaround the world.5 Most of these occurred inareas where the majority of the popula tion wereeconomically vulnerable, with little access topolitical power, and precious little access to anyform of social service. Ideology was used toexplain the existence of most of these conflicts,and in turn influenced the ways in which thewarring parties behave d. It also served to justifythe massive arms industry in the North. Duringthe cold war, five Northern countries supplied95 per cent of arms exported to the so-calledThird World.6The false understanding of the nature of somany conflicts also translated into mechanismsand approaches to diplomatic relations that havesince become redundant. This, along with theserious criticisms of the UN and other agenciesover their handling, for example, of emergenciesin Somalia and Rwanda, underlines the need toredefine our understanding of the nature ofcontemporary conflicts, and to re-conceptualiseconflict-resolution. The very complexity ofmodern conflict calls for an analysis that willenable us to understand and engage with themultiple causes of the growing number of

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Chapter One: The importance of analysing conflicts and peace-building processes

internal conflicts, including their often religiousand ethnic dimensions.Th e absorption of an increasing proportion ofofficial developm ent assistance (ODA) byconflict-related emergencies is also a matter ofconc ern. Clearly, the reduction o r re-orientationof the resources available for international co-operation affects those intended to benefit fromit, especially since the financial aid necessary tosupport post-conflict reconstruction is beingdiverted to new emergencies. But developmentassistance is (or should be) part of a strategy toredu ce the incidence of emergen cies, especiallyin the context of the widening ga p between richand poor, which itself constitutes a risk ofrenewed outbreaks of conflict. (In 1960, theincome of the richest 20 per cent of the world'spopula tion was 30 times higher than that of thepoorest 20 per cent. By 1990, this gap haddoubled, and is still widening.)

Some analysts argue that ODA has noweffectively become a new way of managingconflict, given the failure of traditional diplomaticapp roa che s to mediate or resolve such crises. In apost-cold war context of globalisation, the lang-uage of 'convergence' is giving way to that ofcultural pluralism, which in many cases hasbrought with it with cultural, ethnic, or politicalexclusion. In other words, those who hold thegreatest concentration of resources and powercan no longer rely on an ideological frameworktha t expla ined all conflicts in term s of East versusWest. Instead, they are seeking an explanation interms of culture. The structural dimensions ofconflict a re increasingly ignored, as it is easier toexplain conflicts in cultural terms, rather than asan outcome of North-South contradictions, or ofunequal access to resources or political exclusionwithin countries.

Given their close involvement in situations ofconflict, NC.Os have the potential to present analternative view of its causes and how to resolvethem. However, most NGOs lack the capacity toeng age in sustained analysis, and even this limitedcapacity is subject to pressure from funders todemonstrate impact and efficiency, in competingfor the ever-dwindling resources available forpost-war reconstruction and development. Thisall too easily leads to situations in which NGOshave a highly influential role within conflictsettings, but lack direction due to the absence ofanalysis and strategic thinking. These deficienciesalso mean that NGOs may fail to take into accountthe real needs arising from the transition fromwar to peace-building, a risk which is heightenedby their nee d to demon strate short-term impact.

This has become a critical issue in CentralAmerica, because many of the NGOs which,while the revolutionary movements were active,believed in the possibility of structural trans-formation, now find themselves having to adapttheir policies to the reality of globalisation andthe new international political order. But manyare doing so without sh aring responsibility w ithlocal counterpart organisations, which will facethe challenges of transition in the long te rm .

Conflict theoriesA fashionable theme, conflict has become thesubject of many studies and different app roac hes .There is growing concern that it is vital, beforeintervening in a conflict, to understand its manycontributory factors. The various theories andconcepts of conflict provide useful analyticaltools, some of which offer valuable insights intoapproaches to conflict-resolution.

The British NGO Responding to Conflictidentifies thre e main schools of tho ugh t.Power. This describes an ancient theory whichholds that human beings and social groups areintrinsically engaged in a power struggle, andseek to dominate others. The term 'balance ofpower' refers to the minimum force required toensure coexistence.Structuralism. This approach looks at the va rioussocial institutions and structures which arebased on exploitation and therefore generateconflict. It holds that people become trapped incertain structures, in which there are winnersand losers.Liberal pluralism. This considers the fact thathuma n b eings become involved in conflicts on arange of levels, in which concepts of 'humanneeds', communication, and perception areimportant. Efforts to co-operate may, therefore,either alleviate or aggravate a given situation.Wehr (1979) described seven different theoriesof conflict, although he generally recognisesthat real conflicts are the result of many inter-linking and interd epe nden t factors:1. Conflict and aggressiveness are innate in allsocial anima ls, including hu ma n beings, and ar epar t of the ir biological ma ke-u p.2. Social conflict originates in certain socialforms, and in the ways in which societies arestructured (for example, where control isimposed by some classes or gro ups ov er oth ers ).

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Post-war reconstruction in Central America: Lessons from El Salvador, Guate mala , and Nicaragua

3. Conflict is a deviation from what is normal,usual, or expected behaviour.4. Conflicts arise because they serve to strength-en social systems (for example, by reinforcingcertain social relations or by relieving socialpressure through conflict).5. Societal conflict arises because the nation-statehas national interests that are mutually incom-patible (for instance, in relation to security,power, and prestige).6. Conflict is the result of a breakdown ofcommunication, of false perceptions, of social-isation, and other psychological processes ofwhich we are largely unaware a view whichholds that conflict is based on perceptions rath erthan on material realities.7. Conflict is a natural process common to allsocieties, and is somewhat predictable. Thus, itcan be handled in a constructive and non-violent way.T he last of these theories tha t conflict can behandled constructively and non-violently underpins most thinking and practice in thefield of conflict-resolution.Wh at do we mean by conflict and conflict-resolution?Conflicts manifest themselves on many levels,individual and collective, personal as well aspublic: therein lies their diversity. Conflict is apart of life itself, and is expressed in oureveryday activities. Thus, it is an integral anddialectical feature of individual and socialdynamics. If handled appropriately, it can giverise to creative ways to bring about change;otherwise it remains a destructive force.

We see conflict as a dynamic and changingprocess that is rooted in various structures (insocial, economic, political, gender-related andother aspects of identity). However, it may also beaggravated, 're-cycled', or sustained on the basisof either mutual perceptions or accumulatedhatreds and hostilities. This may happen over aprolonged period, or in contexts in which theconflicting parties have been involved in violentconfrontation, with the consequent costs in termsof human life, and material and emotional well-being. Th us, conflict-resolution is intimatelylinked to peace-building through processes whichadd ress the multi-layered complexity of conflict.He re, 1 refer principally to arm ed conflictswith a nationwide dim ension, which ar e collectiveand organised in character. At the same time, we

see the dynamic of conflict as a historical'continuu m' - a dynamic which precedes armedhostilities and usually survives the formal peacenegotiations in some form.

Concepts of conflict-resolutionIt is important at this point to define how I usesome of the concepts adopted in this paper,many of which are now common currencyam ong M LAs, NGO s, and othe r organisations.Sustainable peace. This is a peace based on a solidagreement, with certain guarantees ofirreversibility, in a dynamic post-war period.Th e various stages in building such a peace arenot necessarily sequential in terms of time; theyrange from the emergency phase through toefforts to consolidate the possibility of develop-ment, from disarmament and detente to thebuilding of harmonious and consensus-basedsocial relation s. Th e te rm implies efforts to builda society in which every citizen has access toresources and to power.

Peace is a complex social construct, a fabricwoven with the many threads that make up asociety, such as the material, cultural, psycho-symbolic, and political dimension. Thus, work-ing for sustainable peace entails focusing on th eimmediate goals, while also maintaining amedium - and long-term perspective.Civil society. This term refers to all institutionsand groups that are not part of the formalstructures of the state. However, this paperfocuses on the organised participation of thepoo r m ajority in shap ing th e society they live in.In this way, the term 'civil society' allows us tounderstand how, and in which circumstances,processes within a society affects its politicalprocesses. This contrasts with approaches whichlook exclusively a t the sta te, political parties, a ndsocial elites. It also contrasts with thoseapproaches which only consider social move-ments (Pearce 1996).Reconciliation. This approach must concentrateon the construction or reconstruction of newrelations between previously antagonisticindividua ls or social grou ps . It involves not onlythe tangible aspects, but also the em otional andpsychological dimensions of the conflict, inorder to deal with the past and to identify newforms of coexistence and future inter-relationships. According to Lederach (Lederach1994), the basic aim of reconciliation is to seeknew 'spaces' among the affected population,

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where they can confront and assimilate thepainful past and the necessarily shared future,as a means of addressing the present.Participation. This process creates the c onditionsfor every sector of society (particularly thosehitherto excluded) to exercise decision-makingpower, by formulating policies and shapingactions that affect them and their country .It is also useful to define certain roles in theprocesses of negotiating peace and resolvingconflict:Mediation. Mediation can take place over a limitedperiod, or it can be pa rt of a long-term process toidentify any points of agreement between theparties involved in the conflict, in order toachieve a common goal. Mediators analyse,interpret, and identify points of agreement insuch a way as to facilitate dialogue between theadversaries, and sometimes to develop specificproposals for each to consider.Monitoring. By following up th e process an d theobservance of a peace accord or agreement,monitoring is a means to ensure that the formeradversaries are aware of progress made, or ofthe reason s for non-fulfilment.Facilitation. This term covers a wide range offunctions in ena bling adversaries to meet, suchas assisting the various parties to come toge ther,providing the necessary time and space,interpreting the parties' aims to each othe r, andso on.Moderation. Individuals or groups moderatingconflict resolution must ensu re tha t the fightingparties enjoy equal opportunities to makeknown their positions, and that the process isconducted in conditions favourable to dialogueand negotiation.

What do we mean by peace-building?Lederach considers that peace-buildingessentially represents the challenge of creatingand sustaining transformed social relations in amovement towards a peace that is thussustainable. Th e dynam ic nature bo th of conflictsand of efforts to resolve them requires us toanalyse the many contributory factors, whichinteract in generating and transforming them.Peace-building also implies the interaction ofdiverse national and international actors, in aprocess which involves a whole range of

approaches and actions needed to transform theconflict into relationships and results that areboth sustainable and peaceful (Lederach, op.cit.).Thus, peace-building is not merely theconcrete ou tcom e of a formal negotiation processor cease-fire but also implies the building of asocial dynamic, which requires social trans-formation in orde r to sustain it. In othe r words, itis a process of building and sustaining peace. Thisprocess requires us to address both thesubstantive problems underlying the conflict,and the dynamics of relations and perceptions thatevolve throughout such conflicts, and which (asnoted above) may be 're-cycled' and perpetuated.

Conflict-resolution must be based on arecog nition of the need for, and the wish to seek,peaceful solutions. It must be a deliber ate effortto know and unde rstand the other's logic, not inorder to surrender to it, but rather in order toidentify an d procee d on the basis of those pointsof agreement which may exist in spite of pastperceptions. This also means identifying thoseproblems an d dynamics where there are no suchpoints of agreem ent, so that a resolution may besought in the context of a shared vision of thefuture.

This represents an enormous challenge,especially in the case of prolonged conflicts. Itrequires all parties to change their mind-set inrelation to the violence, and the negative per-ceptions that arm ed conflict ge nerate s. Conflict-resolution must work within the context ofpower relations which are highly resistant tochange, and which will ultimately determinewhether a sustainable peace can be achieved.Often, there is a 'natural' resistance to change,simply because it is easier to deal with what isfamiliar. C hang e is a highly complex m atter forany one w ho has been directly involved in arm edconflict: it calls into question an identity that hasbeen constructed or reinforced within theframework of war, an identity which provide s acertain security a mo ng those who sh are its logic.Building a different attitude thus demandschange and transformation in an individual'semotional and cultural identity, as well as inthose structures and dynamics which governsocial and political relations, and access to powerand resources.

Clearly, such a comprehensive process alsodepends on dedicated human resources, bothshort-term and permanent. Apart from theformal negotiation processes, experience inCentral America shows how important it is todraw on individuals who not only understand theproblem, but whose credibility and legitimacy

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Post-war recon struction in Central Am erica: Lessons from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaragua

allows them to be a real resource in the longerterm. It is equally im porta nt to establish meetingspaces (both actual locations and symbolicopportunities for expression) and groups w here,and among which, debates, experimentation,and change can flourish.The complexity of transitionTransition from armed conflict to peace isnecessarily complex, and usually full of ambi-guities. One major problem in formal peacenegotiations is that people's expectations are sohigh that the process can seem extremely slow,while at the same time events may move morequickly than people can easily handle. It is notunusual for parties to feel that a great deal hasbeen given away in re tur n for very little, while therapid pace at which the process evolves can m akeit hard for ordinary people to participate.A central but largely overlooked issue is thatof identity. In war-time, one's identity is oftendefined in opposition to that of the enemy.People form very strong group identities, andtend to cling to what is familiar, even whenchange might actually benefit them. In addition,the ambiguities of a transition period, and thelack of a setting in which people can feel a senseof security and belonging, pose enormouschallenges. The situation facing ex-combatantsis particularly difficult: their identity as fightersis not merely questioned, but actually wiped outin the post-conflict period. (In addition, theyhave to deal w ith th e em otional effects of havingfought in the conflict.)Open warfare or acute conflict imposescertain ground-rules. People's very survivaldep end s whose side they are on, whether or notthey are directly involved in the fighting. Thepeace-building process depe nds on people beingable to form new alliances. People natura lly fearthat they will be co-opted , so it is hard for them tobe open to new ideas or discussions. Such fearsare not merely subjective, nor will theyautomatically be resolved in the process of estab-lishing a 'culture of peace'. Paradoxically, thestron g feelings of belon ging, of a secure identity,which people often develop as a response to thereal conditions of the war, may translate intoviolent behaviour once those conditions are nolonger present.

Peace-negotiation processes must lead togenuine changes in the situations that initiallygave rise to the conflicts, but this may pose adilemma. In Central America, it was not only

poverty that sparked off the conflicts, but also th eexclusion of the vast majority of citizens from anyreal participation in the decisions affecting theircou ntry . Of course , some social gro ups will try tomaintain the status quo at all costs. Thu s, peace-building has to challenge the structuralunderpinning of the status quo, as well as thedaily exercise of power, in ord er that this becomea force for social transform ation, for peaceful-co-existence, and part of the process of establishingnew social relations between individuals, andamong groups.Often, large elements of the population havenever exper ienced the positive (active) exercise ofpower. They have been unable to choose and to doas they p lease, because in times of acute conflict,there is merely the power to pro tect oneself andto survive (the negative exercise of power). Thepositive exercise of power depends on people'scapacity to transform both themselves and theworld around them. Peace-building, therefore,entails strengthening this capacity, or empoweringthe marginalised, so that they can becomeprotagonists in the process.This long-term view of transition does notmerely look at the passage of time between warand peace, but also implies (re)training indi-viduals in activities unconnected to the war;enabling people to reclaim their hum an dignity;seeing the past as a tool with which to rebu ild theprese nt and the future; an d m aking the society asa whole aware of how deeply some of its membershave suffered as a result of the war. It includesattending to the specific needs of ex-combatants,of wome n, and of children. The se areju st a few ofthe factors tha t help a society not only to come toterms with what it has lived th rou gh, and enableeach individual to recognise th at she o r he has avital role to play in building som ething new.The issue of psycho-social traum a also needs tobe addressed , not only for th e main protagonists,bu t also for those who suffered the impact of theconflict. People throughout Central America,and in Guatemala in particular, have livedthrough intensely painful experiences: the loss ofhuman life and of material possessions, constantand widespread violence, torture, repression,rape, abuse, and discrimination. The long-termconsequences of such traumatic experiences canscarcely be imag ined.Thus, building a sustainable pea ce starts in thecontext of a transition which may be vague indirection o r not based on a broad social consensus a transition towards what? It must worksimultaneously on several levels (technical andpolitical) and at different paces (immediate and

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longer-term), while also responding to people'sdiverse ne eds an d capacities, and addressing theexpre ssions of conflict both a t the struc tural leveland in everday life. Indeed, some analysts(Lederach 1994, Galtung 1995) argue that peopleand their social relations are the real vehicle fortransition a nd are just as important as the eitherthe technical or the underlying concerns. Thiscontrasts with the conventional top-downapproach to negotiation and conflict-resolution,which ten ds to ignore the many actors and layersof social relations which will in the long rundetermine to what extent the peace will besustainable. Formal negotiation is only oneelem ent in peace-building. It tends to emphasisethe need for changes in the combatants'behaviour, either because of the cessation ofhostilities is a precondition for progress, orbecause it is clear that the war will not have adecisive outcom e. Because of this na rrow range ofmotiva tions, the need for change within society asa whole is often disregarded.A society emerging from armed conflict willnaturally expect that the negotiations will alsoprovide a long-term solution to its problems,whereas the international community maymeasure the success of the negotiation process

simply in terms of a non-return to war. Thismakes it all the more im portant to invest in oth ersocial processes which can take forward the kindsof changes necessary to gua rantee a lasting peac e.

NegotiationIf we have in mind a more integrated vision ofpeace-building, then we must encourageprocesses which will bring together people fromacross the social spectrum , at all different levels,but with a sense of shared responsibility. Such avision would mean letting go of the notion thatanyone has a monopoly on the truth, sincegenuine dialogue cannot take place withoutdoing so. The creativity thus released wouldenable us to move away from traditional patte rnsof thought, while at the same time groundingourselves in reality, and seeing all the elementsthat contribute to conflict. Rather thanconcentrating solely on the leaders, we wouldcome to see the full participation of people fromthe grassroots and intermediate levels of societyas critical to achieving peace. The inter-relatednature of all these elements is illustrated in thefollowing diagram prepared by the NGO,Responding to Conflict:

Fig ure 1: Ch ris Mitchell 's Triangle (based on Respon ding to

/BEHAVIOURSocial discriminationAttacksSegregationMarginalisationPopulation displacement

CONTEXTJustice/ injusticeRightsLegal discrimination'olitical and economic structuresDistribution of resourcesAConflict)

ATTITUDEPrejudiceFearWithdrawal/ alienationRejection of commitment

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Post-war reconstruction in Central America: Lessons from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaragua

This triangle shows how important it is tofocus not only on the material aspects of anygiven co ntext, but also on th e social dimension s,such as discrimination and lack of access todecision-making fora, which in turn generateattitudes that must change in order to achievebroad-based participation. Equally importantare the various pe rceptions of reality, since theseoften govern the behaviour and attitudes ofindividuals and groups towards the 'enemy'. T otake all these factors into account me ans, as wehave said, combining sh ort-term actions with anawareness of the wider political, economic,social, psychological, and cultural dimensions;and at the same time develop ing a clear vision ofwhat would constitute a desirable future.

I have already noted that formal peaceprocesses tend to proceed in a hierarchical ra therthan an organic fashion. The importance ofinvolving those sectors which are not part of thepolitical elite, so that the process is widely'owned', is often ignored. It is also vital to lookcritically at how far the assum ed leaders a re trulyrepre senta tive of and in full dialogue with peopleat the grassroots. It is often assumed, wrongly,that the views of leaders will automatically beadopted by those they represent. Such leadersmay come to symbolise wider hopes, but proveunable to respond to people's more immediateneeds. They may be obliged to assume a public orofficial role which places certain constraints up onthem . They may be unde r pres sure to bow to the'strategic need' to bring about an end to thearmed conflict, especially if this has been veryprolonged. Such factors can make it hard forthese leaders to maintain close contact withpeop le at the grassroo ts. In some cases, they mayeven feel a greater need than before for their ownpersonal and private space.So the political elite cannot determinewhether or not society will feel the need to getinvolved in the peace process, or that it willdevelop the necessary skills to do so. In ElSalvador and G uatemala, for instance, where thepeace negotiations went on almost in secret, itbecam e extremely difficult to ens ure any form ofcommunication between the leaders involvedand the pop ulation. This is one reason why it is soimp ortan t to have individuals and gro ups actingas facilitators and developing plans of action.Irrespective of whether they will themselvesultimately benefit from the process, such peopleare invaluable resources in encouraging newsocial relations.While such individuals are likely to haveestablished the ir personal legitimacy in relation

to the conflict and the various actors involved,they also need institutional backing. Thiscomb ination has pro ven a key factor in enab lingsuch 'resource people' to mediate or facilitate inconflict-resolution. A good exa mp le is that of aninternational NGO in El Salvador which lent itsreputation, and that of certain individual staff-members, to efforts to establish a dialogue andeventually reach a consensus between theoppo sing partie s. Similarly, in the Atlantic Coastof Nicaragua, the Moravian Church played acrucial role in achieving peaceful outcomes tothe armed conflict. Obviously, such efforts areenhanced when the various individuals andinstitutions know and are willing to co-operatewith each other.

Conclusion: From conflict topeaceConflict-resolution efforts must, therefore, bebased on approaches which address the strategicdimensions of the problems, and theobjectivesthat each side views as imp ortant, not m erely onthe conceptual differences. The methods andtools employed should aim to empower thosesocial actors with least access to power andresources, while also helping them to see thepotential for a peaceful solution to their prob-lems, and equ ippin g them with specific skills suchas negotiating and lobbying technique s.The basic dilemma is how to create a form ofpeace which can transform the negativeconditions that gave rise to, or pe rpe tuate d, theconflict into positive forces with which to buildsomething new. Such transformation does nothappen in a vacuum, but in a context riddledwith contradictions, and one in which manyactors do not participate actively. The task isthus to transform society, and to build new waysof relating to each othe r and of hand ling powerwhich are based on inclusion, rather thanexclusion, and which can guarantee the fullestpossible participation.

Finally, it is important to be aware of thevarious agendas at play in peace-building andconflict-resolution. Methodologies may show ushow to handle conflict, but not necessarily howto resolve it. Similarly, no one system is in itselfthe answ er: finding a way to deal with the manycomplex issues at stake can only be based onwhat the p eop le involved actually want particularly those who are relatively powerful.This can only happen if all social sectorsparticipate.

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Chapter Two: The peace negotiation processes inCentral Am erica

A brief overview of the political ba ckg roun d tothe conflict situations in Nicaragua, El Salvador,and Guatemala is followed by accounts of thenegotiation processes and peace accords in eachof these co untries.

BackgroundTh e 1980s saw the fiercest conflict in th e reg ionthis century, with e no rmo us costs in term s of lossof life, infrastructure, h um an d evelopmen t, andpsycho-social well-being. Although the warringparties in each country discussed here havesigned peace accords (Guatemala was the last todo so in December 1996), peace as such, as well asthe dem ocratisation processes, are still fragile. Inthe context of economic globalisation, it isunlikely that the conflicts will disappearaltogether, especially given the ever-dim inishingopportunities for most Central Americans toattain a reasonable stan dard of living. Th at said,it is also clear that new political openings in theregion may allow for peaceful solutions to thecrises facing it.

For centuries, Central America has oscillatedbetween armed conflict on the one hand, andefforts to harmonise and integrate the region, onthe other. This background becomes even morerelevant in the face of globalisation, becauseopportunities for economic advancement areseriously limited by the region's uneq ual relationswith industrialised nations. As Central Americaseeks to compete in the international mark et, thisin turn generates greater inequalities within eachcoun try. Both the conflicts and efforts to create aregional identity (at least at the econo mic level) arerooted in history. In the 1950s, various intra-regional projects aimed to establish region al unitythroug h economic integration. In the 1960s, theCentral American Common Market was quitesuccessful. However, these attempts have beenrepeatedly thwarted by the cycles of internalconflict, and by the competition among neigh-bouring countries to gain access to internationalmarkets.

The process of 'pacification' was part of aseries of initiatives put forward from the 1970s

by major regional and ex ternal actors. Th e roleplayed by the USA deserves special mention,because the nature of its intervention in theregion tur ne d it into one of the main actors.The 1979 Nicaraguan revolution, whichbrought to power the Sandinista liberation move-ment had a major impact on Central America.The US Administration embarked on anundeclared war against the Sandinista govern-ment, significantly increasing its direct politicaland military intervention in the Salvadoranconflict from bases in Honduras, as well as itsprovision of military advice and intelligence toGuatemala. Within Latin America, somecountries defended the position of the US, butmost expressed concern that the 'international-isation' of the conflict might endanger the peaceand security of the entire continent.

Against this backd rop, in Jan uar y 1983 thegovernments of Colombia, Mexico, Panama,and Venezuela formed the Contadora Group.(In 1985, othe r Latin American co untriesformed a Contadora support group, known asthe Lima Group.) Contadora's aim was toachieve peace in Central America by holdingfree elections and ensuring respect for social,political, and civil rights, particularly inNicaragua and El Salvador. These initiatives,and particularly the Contadora process, con-tributed to a favourable climate for peacefollowing the first meeting of the w arring partiesin Esquipu las, Guatemala, on 25 May 1986. On7 August 1987, the presidents of the regionsigned a peace accord, known as Esquipulas II.This accord was based on the peace planproposed by President Oscar Arias of CostaRica, which drew on certain elements from theContadora initiative but also sought to bringabout peace and reconciliation through aprocess of national dialogue. Esquipulas II thusprovided the 'means for establishing firm andlasting peace' but w ithout interference fromvarious external actors which had previouslytried to mediate in the regional conflict. For thefirst time, it created an instrument thatacknowledged the internal roots of the conflicts(as opposed to an analysis which saw them interm s of a cold-war confrontation), that focused

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Posi-war reconstruction in Centra l Am erica: Lessons from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaraguaon the region's own development problems,and that highlighted the urgent need forinternational economic aid, particularly inrelation to foreign debt.The Esquipulas II negotiations alsointroduced concepts and mechanisms whichrepresented a qualitative leap forward, throughestablishing communication among the region'sgovernments, and by generating the trustnecessary for the various actors to enter intodialogue with each oth er. Building on w hat hadbeen developed through the Contadora Group,Esquipulas II included a timetable for meetingand evaluating each party's commitments; theso-called 'symmetrical' definition of the causesof the crisis (which meant that they were nolonger seen as based only in one country, orreduced to one focal point); and the agreementthat implementation would be simultaneousthroughout the region, which helped to reducethe levels of mistrust among the partiesconcerned. At the same time, a presidentialsummit ensured that these matters would bedealt with at the highest decision-making level.

The 1987 Esquipulas II peace accord openedthe way for negotiated settlements. It alsodemonstrated that the specific mechanisms forpeace must be accepted unanimously through-out the region, and based on consensus amongeach of the national governments. It alsounderlined the need for national reconciliation,stressing that dialogue should be the maininstrument to promote '... actions directed atnational reconciliation th at allowed for p opu larparticipation, and exercise of civil and politicalrights on the part of the citizens of CentralAmerica'.However, the nego tiations did not yield fruitimmediately. In Guatemala, little progress wasmade between the Guatemalan NationalRevolutionary Unit (URNG) and VinicioCerezo's Christian Democrat government. In ElSalvador, the dialogue between the governmen tand the Democratic Revolutionary Front/Farabundo Marti Liberation Front (FDR-FMLN) stalled after the president of the non-government Human Rights Commission wasmurdered. In Nicaragua, the governmentunexpe ctedly decided to hold direct discussionswith the right-wing contra leaders, and agreed apartial cease-fire. Th is caus ed pro fou nd riftswithin the contra leadership, raising majorquestions about the role of the US government.The Hon duran government 's continued denialof the presence of perm ane nt contra bases on itsterritory, even thoug h the ir existence was public

knowledge, was the source of growing tensionsin the border area.Th e Esq uipulas II accord was a futher step inestablishing mechanisms to guarantee thepolitical democratisation process, setting dia-logue and verification as the starting points forreconciliation. It was assumed that this wouldincorporate all sectors of civil society. Asdescribed b elow, this process took on differentcharacteristics in each co untry.Extraordinary events took place during1989-90: the FMLN offensive in El Salvador inNovember 1989 demonstrated that it had notbeen d efeated militarily; the US invaded Panamain Decem ber 1989; in February 1990, elections inNicaragua ushered in a centre-right coalition;right-wing governments were return ed to powerin elections in Costa Rica and Ho nd uras ; the UNinitiated a mediation process in El Salvador; andthe URNG and various political parties andothers began discussions in Guatemala. All thiscontributed to a new regional dynamic and madepeace seem achievable. A major factor was theelectoral defeat of the FSLN in Nicaragua, whichgreatly altered US policy towards the region.With the disappearance of the supposedCommunist threat in Nicaragua, Costa Rica andHo nd ura s ceased to be favoured recipients of USeconomic aid.

At the same time, amnesty laws ope ned up thespace for dialogue with the opposition forces ineach country, provided these disarmed . (This waspar t of the Esquipulas accord: paragraph 15 of the1989 Costa del Sol Declaration ma de the first callfor all irregular forces throughout the region todisarm.) In terms of the participation of civil-society groups in the peace processes, EsquipulasII called for the establishment of NationalReconciliation Co mmissions, in o rd e r' .. . to verifyadherence to the commitments undertaken byth efiveCentral American governm ents in signingthis docum ent with reg ard to amnesty, cease-fire,democratisation and free elections ... and tomonitor the national reconciliation process, aswell as the unrestricted respect and full guar-antees for all citizens within any genuinelydem ocratic political processes'.The events of the late 1980s thus marked anew phase in the regional conflict. This periodalso saw a grave deterioration in the livingconditions of the vast majority of CentralAmericans. The acute economic crisis could nolonger be ignored nor could the role of USeconomic aid, which had been critical duringthe armed conflicts, especially in El Salvadorand Nicaragua. Between 1980 and 1990, the US

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Chapter Two: T he peace negotiation processes in Central America

government had increased its bilateral aid fromUS$185 million to US$1,092 million. Thedep end enc e on trad e with the USA alsoincreased dramatically, and remittances fromfamily members in the USA had become animportant element of the region's economies,particularly of El Salvador's. However, althoughthe presidents of Central America hadcalculated that som e U S$10 billion in aid w ouldbe need ed over the next five years to support thepeace processes, the US government cut itsbilateral aid by 20 per cent, arguing that trade,not aid, was the answer. This posed a greatchallenge. In 1970, Central America accountedfor about 1.9 per cent of 'Third World'international trade. By 1988, this had fallen to0.6 per cent, coffee being the only significantproduct for the world market.A degree of political stability had begun toemerge, and the UN started to play animportant role in the peace processes, fromdemobilising the contra forces, supervising theEsquipulas II accords on intra-regional armstrade, to mediating in the Salvadoran peacetalks, and facilitating the dialogue between theURNG and the governm ent of Guatemala. Butdespite these encouraging signs, most CentralAmericans still enjoyed very little participation

in the political processes, and had little access toever scarcer resources.At the end of 1991, the Salvadoran PeaceAccords were signed; while in Guatemala,dialogue continued for several years, until theArzu government and the URNG eventuallysigned the an accord in D ecemb er 1996. Afragile peace had also been achieved inNicaragua, although this was undermined bythe unwillingness of certain elements of thecontra forces to lay down the ir arm s a problemthat lasted until 1997.Despite the overall achievem ents of the p eaceprocess, even today there are still isolated casesof people resorting to arms in order to resolvepolitical problems. And Central America isimmersed in an economic crisis in which thepoor are getting poorer, and in which it is everha rd er to halt, much less reve rse, the increase ofviolence and social disinteg ration. Drug traffick-ing is a major problem, and in some countriesinvolves high-ranking government officials especially among the military. For manyMexicans and Central Americans, migration tothe North remains the only option, given thatneither the armed struggle nor the possibility ofmeaningful political participation oiler any realho pe of a better life.

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NICARAGUA

Background'Here, our main conflict is grinding poverty.'This wry comm ent was made by someone fromthe Northern Autonomous Region of theNicaraguan Atlantic Coast, and the situation isset to worsen throughout the country. Today,Nicaragua not only faces the same structuralproblems that confront the region as a whole.Within the process of reconciliation, it also facesgreat economic and social challenges in theaftermath of a conflict which, in the 1980s alon e,killed some 30,000 people and directly affectedabout 900,000 people. The war caused US$17billion's worth of damage, and destroyed thefarming economy and agricultural productivecapacity. It caused profound social divisions anddid serious damage to community and familystructu res, as well as leaving deep em otional a ndcultural wounds. To make matters worse, inOctober 1988 Hu rricane Joan almost completelydestroyed some settlements on the AtlanticCoast, and badly affected production in otherareas of the co untry.

Th e war in Nicaragua was unusual: the countryhad already lived through an armed conflictwhich began in the 1960s, when the FSLN wasfounded. Their armed struggle against theSomoza dictatorship lasted almost 20 years andended with the overthrow of the Somoza regimeon 19 ) uly 1979. It is important to remem ber thatthe burd en of fighting to bring down Somoza wascarried mainly by the poorer sectors of society.The dictatorship had repressed any form ofopposition and presided overa decline in g eneralliving standards. The prevailing ideologicalclimate, and the then fashionable concept ofpolitical vanguards, gave a somewhat militaryflavour to the way in which ordinary Nicaraguansparticipated in the opposition movements.Furthermore, the struggle to overthrow Somozawas rooted mainly in the Spanish-speak ing PacificCoast, where the capital, Managua, is situated.Th e FSLN simply assumed that the revolutionaryprocess would be understood and shared byindigenous and ethnic minority groups on theAtlantic Coast. Howev er, these groups came fromquite distinct cultural backgrounds, and from a

geographical area that had historically beenmarginalised from the country's 'development'.This made the war on the Atlantic Coast verydifferent from the conflicts in the rest of theregion, and eventually led to the RegionalAutonomy process.Despite detractors within bu t mostly ou tside Nicaragua, there is no doubt that during itsearly years, the Sandinista Governmentgalvanised the desire of most Nicaraguans for ademocratic society. Th er e was an unpre ceden tedlevel of popular organisation and politicalparticipation. For instance, during Somoza'sdictatorship, there had been only 133 registeredunions nationwide, with 27,000 members. After1979, this number grew to 207,000 members,organised in more than 1,200 trade unions.Organisations of peasant farmers, women,educators, and so on flourished; and the govern-ment's mass adult-literacy and health campaignsdepended on the voluntary involvement ofthousands of Nicaraguan citizens. TheSandinistas believed that popular democracyimplied the organisational development of civilsociety, and wanted to reinforce this byestablishing a broad alliance between industrialworkers and peasant farmers, within a predom-inantly rural economy. (The agricultural sectorthen represented about 50 per cent of theeconomically active pop ulatio n in N icaragua.)Thus, the popular organisations on the PacificCoast expanded enormously. However, theirqualitative development was more modest,because the war had a major impact on theirfledgling organisational processes. The conflictthwarted concepts such as popular democracyand affected popular organisations' participationin civil society. In addition, m ost of the leadershipof the m ost powerful econo mic sectors, who wereopposed to what the Sandinistas represented,had left the country. Thus they did not fullyengage in the political debates within Nicaraguauntil the late 1980s. Indeed, most of theopposition to the Sandinista government was infact conceived and organised from outside thecountry. This background not only is key tounderstanding the economic impact of the war,but also explains the remarkable level of

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NI CARAGUA

awareness among ordinary N icaraguans of theirpolitical and social rights, and reveals the longer-term repercussions of the conflict in shapingpeople's identities.The revolutionary process, and the FSLNgov ernm ent in particular, became the targets ina war of attrition waged by sympathisers of theSomocista regime, and by those who began toquestion the Sandinistas' policies, especially inrelation to land reform, and to the compulsorymilitary service introd uce d as a result of the war.Th ro ug ho ut the ten years that the FSLN was inpow er, the arm ed conflict was fuelled by the USgovernment's unswerving support for thecontra forces. Its fiercely anti-communistideology, which saw everything in cold-warterms, effectively cast Nicaragua as a leadingactor in the region al conflict.Most analysts believe that the 1989 electoraldefeat of the FSLN was due largely to thehu ma n and social exhaustion caused by the war,to the distancing of the leadership from its ownsupporters, and to an acute economic crisisarising both from the war and from the USblockade. Today, supporters of both sides andmiddle-level popular leaders alike aredisenchanted with the lack of solutions to theirshared problems. These were not resolved bythe war and have, if anything, become morecomplex since then.At the same time, the disarmament processhas been far from perfect. The rapid decline inmost Nicaragu ans' economic situation has led toan increasin g level of social disinteg ration and aworsening of living conditions, especiallyamong women and children. Although thepolitical conflict con tinues to be part of n ationallife, the extent to which violence has becomesimply a way of ensuring physical survival haspushed politics far from the hearts and minds ofmany Nicaraguans.

Th e economic crisis can be measu red in termsof the u npre cede nted level of foreign debt the w orst in the W estern he mis phe re. It can alsobe seen in the effects of structural adjustmentpolicies, resulting in cuts to governmentspending which have further limited people'saccess to public services. In addition, the offersof international co -operation, on which so manyhopes had been pinned with the signing of theAccords, have largely failed to materialise.Official aid to the new go vern me nt of Nicaragu aamounted to only US$3 billion between 1990and 1993, and has been declining since 1991. Ofthe total received up to 1995, 40 per cent wasused to service the foreign d ebt, and 57 pe r cent

on imports or specific projects. Only US$11.5million of the US$614.3 million d onated by theUS government during this period wasearmarked for social programmes. Ironically,the various international allies whose supportwas so strategic du ring the war whether to theSandinistas or to the National Resistance orcontra are now either unable or unwilling toprovide assistance.As for non-government aid, the internationalagencies have also undergone budget cuts andare under pressure to re-focus theirprogrammes. Those still working in Nicaraguahave had to re-define their role in a rapidlychanging context, and review the ir objectives an dstrategies vis-a-vis their local counterparts andtowards the government's neo-liberal policies.Many Nicaraguan N GOs, m ost of which em erge dduring the war and were strongly influenced bythe state, are now immersed in a transition thatcalls for capacities and resources that far outstriptheir real potential. This has constrained theirability either to make proposals or to respo nd todemands, in spite of their wealth of innovativeexperiences in the fields of organisation andproduction.The situation is worsened by the culture ofdependency which was the outcome both of thewar-time state and of the enormous, andunconditional, international financial supportgiven to the Sandinistas during the 1980s - aculture very ha rd to overcome within a transitionprocess. Paradoxically, most observers agree thatNicaraguans retain a strong awareness of theirrights, and a deep desire for peace. Thesecharacteristics may constitute their main strengthin building alternatives for the fu ture.

The formal post-warreconciliation processIn Nicaragua, the Esquipulas Accordencouraged civil-society organisations tobecome more involved in the post-warreconciliation process. When, in 1985, the USAdministration openly declared its intention tobring down the Sandinista government intensifying its support for military actions aswell as introducing a trade emb argo which wasto generate the most severe economic crisis inthe cou ntry's history - it justified its actions bypainting the Sandinistas as a dictatorship whichsupressed all independent associational life. Infact, the Sandinistas had initiated a daringproject discussing autonomy for ethnic groups

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Post-war reconstruction in Central America: Lessons from El Salvador, Guatemala, a nd Nicaraguain the Atlantic Coast region as far back as 1984,which showed a remarkable grasp of issues ofdiversity. Similarly, the 1984 elections through which the Sandinistas sought to gainnational and international legitimacy sent aclear signal that Nicaraguans had a part to playin the dem ocratic process. Th e elections were inessence an attempt to put an end to the US-sponsored armed aggression.In 1988, the Sandinistas participated activelyin the Esquipulas II process. They sought toengage politically with their n eighb ours, in o rde rto consolidate their legitimacy and establishrelationships th at would at least hold back o thersfrom un der m inin g their own efforts to establish anegotiated and lasting peace. In this spirit, theNational Reconciliation Commission (CNR) wasset up under the leadership of the Catholicchurch. Local and regional Peace Commissionswere also formed, drawing to gether various civilsociety representatives, and aiming to facilitatemeetings and dialogue between the waningfactions. The Nicaraguan opposition also calledfor national dialogue, seeking to gather supportlor what would eventually become the electoralalliance known as the National Opposition Union(UNO).

Th e conflict-resolution process ma de co ncreteprogress in the August 1989 Tela Summit. Thissaw the establishment of the 'Joint Plan for thedemobilisation and repatriation or voluntaryrelocation within Nicaragua and third countriesof members of the National Resistance (contra)and their families ...'. The document set downconditions for the demobilised fighters whichwere to be supported by various internationalorganisations. Implicit in this was the offer ofamnesty to anyone who applied for it.The Esquipulas II Accords went further still,and included the commitment to hold dem ocraticelections and embark on bilateral negotiationsbetween the Sandinistas and the NationalResistance. This marked an effort to take thedebate out of the military sphere and into thepolitical aren a, and to reintegrate the co mbatantsinto civilian life. However, it was the electoralprocess which defined the end of the war, takingplace as it did in the context of a governmentweakened by the war, the US economic blockade,and externally-supported aggression.The offer of amnesty was opposed by somehigh-level Sandinistas as well as by the contraleaders. Irrespective of any formal agreements,neither group was psychologically or politicallyready to make a transition. However, a growingnumber of small agreements were gradually

reached between the military leaders of bothcamps. Th e Sapoa Agreem ent had broug ht themtogether for the first time, although no advancewas made on the demobilisation front, largelybecause of the political conditions laid down.Some of the military leaders had begun toestablish informal (and unofficial) channels ofcommunication even before political agreementshad been formalised.At the same time, there were renewedreconciliation initiatives within civil society. TheNational Reconciliation Commission washeaded by the Catholic hierarchy, but the localPeace Commissions also made concrete effortsto facilitate dialogue and to undertake certainmediation activities. Many of these initiativeswere almost spontaneous in character. Moreoften than not, they were based on the supportof individuals and gro up s who were seen to havesome authority within the communities and thewarring parties, rather than on formal orpermanen t structures.The war officially finished two months afterthe election of the UNO government, with thesigning of a cease-fire agreement on 18 April1990. However, in spite of the official pro-nouncements and meetings, it was not foranother eight mo nths, und er US pressure, thatth e contra began to demobilise. While theelections were intended to reduce the tensionsbetween the warring parties, they actuallyintensified polarisation within Nicaragua. Theelections had brought to power a veryheterogeneous alliance, supported by the USgovernment and led by Violeta Chamorro (aformer member of the first SandinistajMMta, andwidow of a renowned journalist who hadopposed the Somocista regime). No sooner hadthe elections been held than a Transition Accordwas signed which aimed to ensure an orderly andpeaceful transition. This was described both bythe left and by the extreme right as a co-government, and was to be based on reconciliationat the highest levels. The document itself calledfor social reconciliation: '... the firm bases mustbe laid down for reconciliation, nationalharmony and stability in every sense, in order tocreate an env ironm ent of trust and security forallNicaraguans ...' (Protocol of the proceedings ofthe transfer of the presidency of the Republic ofNicaragua, 27 March 1990). However, no firmcommitments to provide social assistance oreconomic opportunities were made, whichme ant that the Accord offered no security eitherfor working people or for the demobilisedfighters.

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This policy vacuum contributed to isolatedcases of re-armam ent a nd also led to widespreadstrikes between April an d Novem ber 1990 whichendangered the entire reconciliation process andthreatened the country's institutional fabric. Inresponse to this instability, the g overn me nt set upa Economic and Social Conciliation F oru m, in aneffort to bring the gov ernm ent an d various socialforces together, 'to identify many areas in whichwe coincide in practice', and to agree social andeconomic programmes. A major reason whythese efforts did not prosper was the lack of anyreal mechanisms to promote social and politicalreconciliation. Such mechanisms would havehelped to depolarise the situation, by providingmore equitable access to and distribution ofresources throughout Nicaraguan society. Theirabsence only generated new forms of politicalpolarisation.

After disarmament: theimplementation of the accordsAccording to figures provided by members ofthe former contra, over 80 per cent of theirdemobilised soldiers were campesinos (peasantfarmers), and over 90 per cent of them wereilliterate. Within the Sandinista Armed Forces,some 2,000 people were relieved of their dutiesin the Ministry of the Interior, while theSandinista Popular Army reduced its troopsfrom 80,000 to about 15,000 in und er a year. Onboth sides, many of these com batants ha d signedup as adolescents.

The demobilisation process was slow andproblematic. Not until 1993, over three yearsafter the elections, did the governmentannounce that it would no longer negotiatewith, nor concede amnesty to, any irregularforces still under arms. The InternationalSupport and Verification Commission (CIAV)set up by the UN and the Organisation ofAmerican States (OAS) to co-ordinate thedemobilisation process and the TelaRepatriation Plan, shared responsibility withthe office of the UN High Commissioner forRefugees (UNHCR). The latter assumedresponsibility for the refugees in neighbouringcountries, while the CIAV and OAS took on thedemobilisation of members of the NationalResistance and their families, provided thatthese were covered by UNHCR. (The UNorganism ONUCA was in charge of recallingand disposing of arms.) CIAV offered a similarassistance package to that of UNHCR, and

repatriated family members of the ex-combatants at a later date. Its mandate wasfrequently extended for short periods in orderto protect the rights and security of the ex-combatants, including verifying and pursuingany claims that these had been violated. ThusCIAV was in practice involved in conflict-mediation and in facilitating dialogue betweenthe conflicting parties.

For the ex-amtra, the Nicaraguangovernment established 'development poles',designating specific areas for their resettlement.For the Sandinista Armed Forces, thegovernment planned to offer benefits andallowances according to seniority, as well astraining opportunities and certain subsidies.Overall, some 350,000 ex-combatants and theirfamilies were eligible for these schemes.According to CIAV, 21,392 mem bers of the ex-National Resistance had been demobilised byJuly 199 1; while by Septem ber 1990, 40,000members of the Sandinista Aimed Forces hadalready been demobilised, and almost 70,000within the first two years. Ex-contra fightersclaimed in interviews that their numbers alsoincluded their long-term collaborators, civiliansupply structures, and others who were keen toget access to the benefits package. The num berof registered demobilised contras was almosttwice the initial estimate, which affected CIAV'sfinancial and logistic capacity. Most of thesepeople remained in the designated 'develop-ment poles'. However, conflicts over property,the sho rtag e of funds, and the lack of any specificgovernment commitment to them, meant thatthese settlements became somewhat unstable.This generated frustration, and led to theircontinued dependence on CIAV. Among thedemobilised Sandinista Armed Forces, thefavouritism shown towards higher-rankingofficers, and the fact that most regulars lackedthe skills necessary to return to civilian life,meant that many of these and their families feltfrustrated and had little prospect of employ-ment. According to the Association of RetiredSoldiers (AMIR), those who had no kind ofsup po rt or protection were later to form the bulkof the recompa movement, to which we referagain below.

In this situation, the Nicaraguan g overnm entmarginalised the Peace Plan, rather thanfocusing on the host of difficulties as a strategicproblem. It paid little attention to thecom mitm ents already mad e with the demobilisedcombatants, or to the efforts of those who weretrying to take forward the CIREFCA process, a

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UN-sponsored attem pt to deal with the problemsof refugees and ex-combatants in closecollaboration with Nicaraguans themselves.However, by contrast with El Salvador, theNicaraguan demobilisation process happenedvery rapidly, and non e of the parties involved wastruly ready for it. Th e result was a lack of overallco-ordination which affected both the initial andsubsequent phases of the process.Up to 95 per cent of the Nicaraguan familiesdisplaced by the fighting had for years been livingin settlements which were supported by theregional governments of their places of origin; afactor which lent them a certain stability. A 1991survey showed that about 900 ,000campesinos werestill living in 220 such rural settlements. The newgovernment basically ignored the needs of thispopulation and cut subsidised services tothem. Aspart of its new econom ic policy, the banks reducedthe credit available to small producers, which leftthe co-operatives in these settlements (most ofwhich also had land-titling problems) with noaccess to credit. The lack of any policies to assistwomen was particularly striking, given that mostdisplaced and refugee households were female-headed. According to the Association ofNicaraguan Women (AMNLAE), 45 per cent ofNicaraguan households were already headed bywomen back in 1979, a phenomenon that wasgreatly accentuated by the war.The ex-combatants had high expectations ofbeing reintegrated into the rural economy. Inaddition to the litany of broken promises, thelack of credit and oth er inpu ts began to give riseto widespread discontent on both sides.Gov ernm ent statistics show th at 1 million acreshad been set aside for 15,691 families of the ex-National Resistance; a furthe r 144,000 acres ofstate-owned land was privatised and allocated tothese ex-conlras, and another 128,000 acres tomem bers of the San dinista Armed Forces. Yet inpractice the allocation of land did not resolvepeople's survival need s, because legal problemsconcerning land-titles (which were either non-existent or contested) disqualified them fromaccess to credit and hence denied them theopp ortunity to earn a living.When added to the discontent about thegovernment's unkept promises, these practicalproblems served to encourage the formation ofsplinter groups. People viewed the high-levelagreements as having failed to satisfy theexpectations of th e campesinos who had taken uparms. The high-level nego tiations could not an d still cannnot ens ure tha t reconciliation anddemobilisation in the ru ral area s would become a

nation-wide reality. Despite the general war-weariness and desire for peace, the rapiddemobilisation process left little or no time toprepare the rank and file, either politically orpsychologically, for what it implied. Given suchuncertainty, many ex-combatants and supporterson both sides decided not to turn in theirweapon s, although there is no means of knowingthe exact num ber who didn't.The economic crisis was exacerbated bypolicies that denied most people access to basicservices (while allowing some to gain greatly), andthe failure to find ways of reintegrating the ex-combatants into society. The resulting tensionsculminated in 1994 with unexpectedly highnumbers of people taking up arms once againan d, in some areas of Nicaragua, em barkin g on amilitary offensive. T hese isolated cases of a returnto armed struggle have occasionally taken abizarre turn, as in the case of the revueltos [inSpanish, this play on words means both'return ed' and 'scrambled' translator's note].These were rural people from both sides whotook up arms again in order to back certaineconomic demands, but who then demobilisedonce more. Interestingly, those who werepreviously enemies joined in attacking thegov ernm ent for failing to address their n eeds . Aslate as 1991, some ex-conlras in the north of thecountry had resorted to arms in support of theirdemand for land; and there were cases ofSandinistas respo ndin g in like man ner. By 1993,the re had been 713 armed confrontations, with atotal of 1,023 casualties fairly significant, giventhat the disarmament process had beencompleted long before. In response, a NationalDisarmament Brigade (BED) was formed,though this did not include the various gangs ofarmed criminals within its scope.

This phenomenon can be explained only byunderstanding the background and motives ofthe combatants and their civilian supportersduring the war. It is true that the NationalResistance was led by Somicista sympathisers.However, during the 1980s, it also attractedsupp ort from the peasantry for instance fromfarmers who were dissatisfied with the Sand inistaagrarian reform policy or who feared that theirland might be expropriated. In addition,members of various ethnic minority populationsalso joined the contra. In particular, the Miskitoindian population on the Atlantic Coast had beeninvolved in the conflict since they had beenforcibly displaced from their homes along theborder between Nicaragua and Honduras 'fornational security reasons'. The Miskitos had

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always been marginalised on the political andideological fringes of national life. Hence, theydid not initially identify with the war. For thedemobilised troops and their families andsupporters, a return to normal civilian lifedep end ed on access to the means of production(not merely to land) and work, as well as onmaintaining the social and collective achieve-me nts following the o verthrow of Somoza.

To summarise, while the government didpromote some policies to assist ex-combatants,these were largely focused on the military eliteand o n m en, and were not part of any integrateddevelopment policy. This 'favouritism' causedconsidera ble feelings of resentmen t towards theleadership, which was perceived as becomingever more distant from the needs of ordinarypeople. The government's economic adjust-ment policy with cutbacks in social programmesand credit schem es, imposed in orde r to qualifyfor World Bank loans, and the failure of manyforeign governments to come up with thepromised assistance packages, dashed theexpectations of the Armed Forces. The ex-contras were similarly disappointed by the factthat the development strategies that they hadassumed would shape the 'development poles',never materialised. Only now are large-scaleprogrammes being implemented in certainparts of Nicaragua, with support from themultilateral agencies. Currently, neither thegovernment nor the political parties haveaddressed the question of economicreintegration or the largely unfulfilled agre e-ments to consider the needs of the ex-combatants.

A decade after the war formally ended,politicians still have to agre e on the na ture of thetransition, p erhap s assuming thatthis has alreadyhappened without ever having been addressed.Increasingly, many sectors of Nicaraguan societyfeel that political leaders have tended to polarisethe country rathe r than contributingto a nationalclimate of peace. Th is in turn is creating problemsfor local and regional g overn men ts, and leaves aserious credibility (and, therefore, legitimacy)gap at the national level. The state's inability toprovide a regulatory framework for its citizens,combined with the lack of resources forinvestment in the social sector, constitute a realthreat to peace. Many people are losing faith inthe possibility that their basic problems can beresolved by peaceful means. On the contrary,there is the growing perception that benefits forthe poor majority can be gained only throughpressure and confrontation.

Civil-society participation inconflict-resolutionConflict-mediation and resolution initiativesbegan, as we have already seen , while the war wasstill raging. As part of its own national policy, theSandinista government embarked on theEsquipulas process in the hope of findingpeaceful solutions, while the internal oppositionin Nicaragua began to encourage consensus-building processes which would eventuallyprovide the basis for trans ition. At the grassroots,people's desire for peace drove many localinitiatives to mediate between conflicting parties.

Although the Peace Commissions wereofficiallyconstituted within the framew ork of theNational Reconciliation Commission (CNR),in practice their dynamic and compositiondepended on the local context. Gradually, theylost their formal function. Many argue that theCommision's efforts were constrained by theunrelenting opposition of the Catholic hierarchytowards the Sandinistas, which tainted itsimpartiality. Nevertheless, local political leadersand members of the church joined the PeaceComm issions in an effort to rep rod uc e the CNRinitiative. Sometimes these local commissionssucceeded in encouraging people to comeforward and seek amnesty. Such occasions werethe only experience of active civil-societyparticipation in the entire reconciliation process.

In thefinalyears of the Sandinista go vernm ent,the UN-sponsored CIREFCA process attemptedto focus attention on the population directlyaffected by the conflicts, and to chan nel resourcesto them. CIREFCA also served to bring togetherthe efforts of national and international NGOs.Nicaraguan NGOs seized the op portu nity to playan active part in resettling and reintegratingrefugees and enabled people to talk with theinternational actors who were supporting them.This creative and energetic engagement bynational NGOs in high-level political dialogue isconsidered a unique achievement. However,althou gh these efforts still continue, the absence ofany clear government policy towards thedisplaced, the lack of resources, and the problemsfaced by NGOs in the transition period, havemeant that the response has fallen far short ofmeeting the need.After 1990, only a few organisation s inNicaragua have deliberately worked in conflict-

resolution and mediation. However, ex-combatants themselves have set up spontaneousprojects, sometimes in connection with Church-based initiatives. In addition while these have

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Post-war reconstruction in Central America: Lessons from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaraguanot necessarily been described as conflict-resolution program me s NGOs such as CEPAD(a church-based agency), the Augusto CesarSandino Foundation (FACS), and others haveacted as facilitators in conflicts which arose intheir areas of work. However, these activitieshave generally responded to a specific problemrather than being as part of a planned strategy.Other programmes have aimed to address theneeds of certain groups (women and youngpeople in particular) within an overall framew orkof consensus-building.The local Peace Commissions were and stilla

post-war reconstruction in central america: lessons from el salvador, guatemala and nicaragua

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