What Do We Do With The Scars Of War?
"I, like other foreigners, was drawn to visiting well-known museums, retired aircraft carriers and other relics of military supremacy of the United States." 18 February 2013 By R. Mou Run (Gurtong Published)-Interrupting a row of grand mahogany trees in the centre of Gogrial, my place of birth, is a huge defunct military tank previously owned by the Sudanese Armed Forced and disabled by the Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) towards the end of Africa’s longest civil war. Other evidences of war such as trenches, bullet casings and gun parts remain as the stark reminders of death in the course of reconstruction after what authorities call a thorough clean up of the town before resettlement. This problem is not specific to Gogrial. Damaged combat tanks used to, and still stand in many South Sudanese towns where heavy fighting took place during the war. The rusting tanks under Yei Neem trees documented by many Kenya journalists and non-governmental workers are the most famous. Of course, these remaining relics of the war era make no news in independent South Sudan for one very obvious reason: people are inured to these symbols. So what is the future of these reminders of our military triumph over a militarily superior oppressor? The first thing that came to my mind when I saw the grotesque alteration of my hometown was housing the ugly invention. I thought this could be done – in Gogrial and elsewhere – by establishing many small “liberation museums” across the country where such technological wastes existed. Such institutions, I figure, can be established by the national government but they can be transitioned into centres of pride for town inhabitants so that local philanthropist can fund them. I am a poor man, to steal a phrase from the South African singer, Chiko, but I would definitely contribute to a governmental project that protects my children from accepting the images of other youngsters climbing a weapon of death in the town of my birth. My view is that the present generation has no interest in tanks or any other symbols of a war, which has so adversely contributed to the destruction of the system of life they know. However, the next generation is likely to be devoid of the kinds of memories that currently edit the significance of everything we see in independent South Sudan. More importantly, many small museums may serve to highlight for our children how the liberation of our country affected different communities and localities over a period that extended beyond the oft-cited 55 years. Such small museums are likely to serve as depositaries of both the physical remainders of war such as the tanks that the SPLA seized, the newspaper archives recording the SPLA’s capture of specific towns and even the sound archives of the noise that ensued during the SPLA’s well-known boisterous victories. Since our cultures have been lacklustre and our governments (local and national) slightly suspicious in independent attempts to record the momentous events that have shaped our independence, enabling localised history archives has the potential to diversify the national narrative and eliminate the kinds of imposed (stories the Ottomans, the British and the Arabs attempted to supplant) on a people who are disinclined to accept foreign pathology and deceit as truth. I also believe that localised liberation museums may help highlight the contribution of our heroes and enhance our unity. Such museums may be the SPLA’s best chance to resolutely remedy public perception in areas like the Murle country where their loyalty to the service of all South Sudanese has been question. We must also remember that a history conscious society will always produce people who worry about what their own children (or the future generation) would think if their actions in the national army were not beyond reproach. Such a culture is not easy to achieve without strong institutions that immortalises those who lay down their precious lives for our freedom. >From my perspective, many small museums would do at least two things. First, they would generate local debates about the roles of specific individuals in the liberation of South Sudan. For example, Kerubino Kuanyin Bol is still considered a villain in Gogrial – my hometown – but nobody forgets that he ordered the first shot that generated the SPLA in 1983. Indeed, the Bor Women music group made famous by Youtube use his name and Mading Bor (the birthplace of liberation) in their influential song, “Madingda ye gol tarir.” Inasmuch as these are national debates, local voices are also critical. Local voices decentre the narratives. Secondly, they will serve to make the history of our country’s founding complete by placing the appropriate emphasise on the liberation struggle. In my first days in the United States of America, I, like other foreigners, was drawn to visiting well-known museums, retired aircraft carriers and other relics of military supremacy of the United States. What I discovered later on – very, very much later on – was the fact that most Americans had their interests locked into the offers of memorial centres – not of superpower symbols like aircraft carriers, but of liberation from the imperial tyranny of Great Britain. This was only possible because the Americans were interested in telling their stories. We have every opportunity to build a strong foundation to remember how we came to be an independent nation and maintain studious records of who laid their lives down to get us here. Our leaders did not single-handedly pick up the guns and fought the war. This fact alone should make every South Sudanese care more about a local history remember the son or daughter of X and Y in our local history than the present posture. To sign off, I also think small museums would be the most nationalistic element of “bringing the town to the people” that President Kiir and his predecessor, John Garang, always hoped to implement. Such an investment would lead to the empowerment of grassroots voices that may (or not) engender local causes for nationalism. The present South Sudanese discourse of nationalism, like much of Africa, seems elitist and exclusive. We need to change that and get the damaged tanks out of the centre of our small towns and villages and into war museums where names of fallen heroes may also be recorded. Posted in: Opinions Comments 18/02/2013, 10:09 AM - Posted by Jacob Akol Dear Run, This is an excellent opinion piece, devoid of usual political agenda characteristics of many opinions posted on South Sudanese website. It gets to the heart of a very important topic for our history and Gurtong Trust is proud to publish it. Let's face it though: Our insensitivity to what is important to our history may have led or likely to lead to these relics being sold to iron/steel mongers for melting. There were many of those destroyed tanks lying about in ditches near the river in Juba. Those seem to have disappeared and they might find their way - if they have not already done - to Kenya or even Japan. All this reminds me of my school days in Gogrial when our school visited the spot at Alek where Ayook Lual was murdered by a force which came from a steamer which awaited them at Majok Amaal. Although this great battle of Alek is recorded in songs, there is no reserved material witness to the battle. But we were shown scars of the battle on the trunks of palm trees there. Those palms trees may have perished by now but the cannon balls which cause such damage must be lying under the soil nearby and can be retrieved by archaeologists and housed in a local museum either at Alek or Gogrial. Jiel Akol -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "South Sudan Info - The Kob" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. To post to this group, send email to [email protected]. For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
