If you can't beat them, marry them

Three weeks ago we were invited to a wedding that brought together the lineages of two prominent Bari families. The Bari speaking tribes of South Sudan are from Western, Central and Eastern Equatoria, and were dominant in politics up until fairly recently. In a country with such abundant and overwhelming poverty, it was initially quite shocking to see the bride arrive in a stretch limousine. I was also surprised to find myself sitting next to a Dinka man. We have gathered from our colleagues that Bari speakers tend not to get along with the Dinka, who have now become the politically dominant group.

This man, however, had married a Bari woman, which explained his presence at the wedding. As the speeches, sermons and songs proceeded, my companion described his life. He was six foot six, drunk, shell-shocked and thankful for peace. He spoke with outgoing pride, but also with a latent sense of regret. He was proud of his heritage and achievements, but disturbed by violent memories and the loss of friends and family for the cause of freedom.

A day that ended with a wedding started with a hike up Juba’s highest peak. From the windy top of Jebel Mountain, we could see the dusty streets of Juba below and the vast green plains beyond it. As I admired the rock formations close by I couldn’t help but think about the country’s future. For most of us it is difficult to conceive of the joy that will come with the South’s secession on July 9^th. After centuries of fighting invaders, oppressors and enslavers, independence is a goal that has been elusive. One colleague said, “Our generation is very lucky, because we will witness something that our fathers and grandfathers fought for all of their lives and that many died for.”

However, in South Sudan’s history, fighting has not only been directed towards outsiders. For centuries various tribes within South Sudan have quarreled viciously - among them the Dinka and the Nuer. The most recent conflict between the Bor Dinka and the Nuer started in 1991. Riek Machar, a Nuer general in the SPLA and the current vice-president of the South Sudan, had left the SPLA and organized his own militia to “liberate” South Sudan. One of the Bor Dinka community’s worst moments was when this militia stole their children, women and cattle and massacred most of their elders. These memories and others are vivid in the minds of the South Sudanese - the future of the country depends on their willingness to forgive and forget.

Two weeks after the Bari wedding, we were in Malakal, a city in the state of Upper Nile, close to the border with Northern Sudan. On the negotiation table $50,000 was at stake: 170 cows in the form of bamboo sticks. To a passing outsider this may have seemed like a tense military affair. On one side of the room sat the Nuer and on the other sat the Bor Dinka. High ranking officials from the government and military from all over the country were sitting on both sides. Surrounding the colorful tent were at least a dozen armed soldiers. As the negotiation advanced, each party would step out of the large colorful tent to have private conversations and then come back to share their new position.

Given their history, it was hard to believe that these groups were sitting under one tent. But today, years of anger and tension have been left behind to celebrate a wedding, to be more precise, step 5 in the 7 step Nuer marriage process: the dowry negotiation. This is a marriage of love between two individuals and a marriage of commitment between two families. It is in a sense a celebration of peace, an initial step towards reconciliation and a sign of commitment to national unity. Two weeks from the birth of the Republic of South Sudan, this couple embodies the leadership of a new generation of South Sudanese, educated abroad but deeply connected to their traditions.

This negotiation ended with both families agreeing on the bride’s price. Over the next two weeks, the groom’s family will pay 75 cows in cows, 75 cows in cash, 4 spears, 2 hoes and 4 goats. 1 cow must be provided today for the traditional Nuer god and 4 cows must be white cows from the groom’s hometown, Bor. Once the dowry was agreed upon, various members of both parties gave reconciliatory speeches offering their best wishes to the couple. The formal ceremony ended with a local Christian bishop emphasizing the new generation’s responsibility to build bridges between communities in conflict. A feast and dancing followed. The first dance involved Nuer women pretending to spear Dinka men, who dodged the imaginary spears on a large field. The dancing continued around the drums with men and women jumping up and down. It was a moment of joy and excitement for all.

Now, as I fly back to Juba over the vast expanse of South Sudanese terrain, I wonder whether the peaceful intentions we observed this weekend will last. If the threat of a common enemy is reduced, can South Sudan’s many factions get along? How will this new country face the challenge of development and overcome the vestiges of war? One can only hope that the new generation of South Sudanese will forge for themselves a peaceful and prosperous nation.