These are exciting but tense times in the West African nation of Guinea. A presidential election is fast approaching, on June 27, with legislative contests to follow six months later. The elections are playing out against a 50-plus-year history of dictatorship, a current military regime that came to power in a coup d'état, and memories of horrific violence last September when over 150 people died in clashes and many women were raped in broad daylight.
The anniversary of President Obama's June 4, 2009 speech in Cairo, addressed to the Muslim world, has prompted a fresh examination of where and how democracy and Islam are linked. So it's worth looking at Guinea, a country of more than 10 million people, some 85 percent of them Muslim. It's a country that has not known much democracy, but the reasons don't have anything to do with religion. It's an old and familiar tale of nasty politics, large egos, and contending great power interests. It's created bitter memories and sharpened ethnic and other divisions. Yet Guinea's story also has the seeds of a hopeful story of dialogue and cooperation. African leaders and international organizations seem to be working together to give this nation and its people a chance to make a fresh start.
Part of this effort played out recently in Rome, in the beautiful former convent that is the headquarters of the Community of Sant'Egidio, the lay Catholic movement that is a world mover for peace and justice. Guinean leaders -- men and women, military and civilian, representatives of victims of oppression and of those who hold power now -- met within these cloistered walls with mediators from Sant'Egidio and others close to various governments. They thrashed out a detailed, 17-page political agreement. Perhaps more significant, they issued an appeal for the future of their country, committing themselves to a new reign of dialogue, respect and justice.
"The memory throws up high and dry, a crowd of twisted things," wrote T.S. Eliot, and, for peacemakers, painful memories lie at the heart of the challenge. Memory is the bane of those who yearn for peace because it threads its way through the angry narratives of different sides, stifling hope. Guinea has its share of bitter memories, and those who came to Rome included women who were raped and parents who lost their children. Part of the reason why the Community of Sant'Egidio can help in healing memory is its deep and long-term commitment to listening and caring for those involved. Another is a gift for creating new memories, as a group of very different Guineans joined hands in a beautiful Roman garden where memories of other successful peace accords serve as inspiration that, this time, hopes will be fulfilled.
Frédéric Mounier described the Sant'Egidio negotiations in the French Catholic paper La Croix. He acknowledged that peace appeals are often met with cynicism and doubt. But why, he asked, sulk and criticize when the peacemakers hold out such hopes? He is (as am I) an obvious admirer of Sant'Egidio's capacity to link peacemaking with a determination to work against poverty, and its commitment to stick with a cause for as long as it takes. The reason that Guineans from many very different political persuasions came together in Rome was because the Community had been a friend to them over 20 years, working in their country through the toughest times, in prisons and in hospitals. Why, Mounier asks, should we doubt the power of dialogue? Why brood on problems in the face of hope? Sure, the future is uncertain, ethnic divisions still lurk, but there's also a real chance that the sincere commitments will translate into reality.
Guinea's national assets include vibrant and diverse people, remarkable music, storytelling traditions and mineral resources. But the current lot of most people is a short life, limited economic opportunities and a growing reputation as a drug transit point (the son of Guinea's former president and dictator, Lansana Conte, is in jail, listed as a drug kingpin). My daughter served there in the Peace Corps and fell in love with the country. But her former students constantly remind her that no matter how bright and enterprising they are, their prospects are grim. So watch the coming elections with fingers crossed and hope that the spirit of Sant'Egidio will infuse Guinea's leaders as they leave the peaceful garden in Rome and face the legacies of the past and the current realities of the political campaign.
