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A Revival of Tribal Tradition to Help Repair Darfur

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In El Daien, Sudan,in the heart of Arab Darfur recently, a who's who of tribal leaders lounged under tents in the sand, the men discussed politics and the conflict, and there was dancing and a brass band to herald the revival of a traditional festival.
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The leaders and other elites assembled -- prominent businessmen, professors, a couple of newspaper editors -- said they saw through the Sudanese government's attempt to use Arab nationalism as a way to rally the Janjaweed militias against ethnic African Darfurians.

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"The problem is between Darfurians and the government -- this is not between Arabs and Africans," said Abdel Majid Ibrahim Mohamed, a prominent leader of the ethnically African Fur tribe, among the most heavily targeted by the government. "It's the government that is cooking these things up. I don't believe in this Arab and non-Arab description. There are Fur married to Arabs, so there's a social interlocking between them."

"This is not a tribal conflict or ethnic conflict," the nazir concurred. "It's a conflict of interests. And we've been living together for 400 years."

Since the Darfur conflict erupted, however, such views have rarely been expressed publicly by traditional Arab leaders, some of whom blame themselves for being sidelined. Some said they believed they would be arrested or killed if they spoke out against a government that expected Arab backing. Others were co-opted. Others were perhaps convinced that they were powerless.

"They have got many pressures from the government, " said Hassan Maki Ahmed, a teacher, referring to the Arab leaders. "They feel sorry for what happened, but they feel if they say something, nobody can hear them. People say these leaders are very weak. They can't give them what they want, and the government can."

The nazir was one of the few who refused to heed the government's call for militias, while some of his fellow Rizeigat leaders in the north got rich making a different choice.

"Everyone has his own situation and his own people to deal with," the elder Madibbo said, explaining the challenges of being a modern-day nazir with little ability to satisfy constituents.

In his father's day, for instance, traditional leaders had the power to tax. The nazir collected food from locals, kept it in a little house on the compound and distributed it to the needy during difficult times. These days, the little house is empty. Madibbo spends most of his time settling minor land disputes. And despite his edict, many young Rizeigat men from his area joined the government militias.

"Citizens these days are different than they used to be -- they are more worldly," he sighed.

Still, the home town of the nazir suggests what would be possible if leaders like him prevailed in Darfur.

On the edge of El Daien, for instance, there is a camp of displaced ethnic African villagers, people who said they fled there because they felt the town was safe. The nazir gave them land for the settlement.

And milling around the nazir's compound were other Arab leaders who defied the government line. There was an officer of a major opposition party, along with a few young Rizeigat men who had joined a Darfur rebel group. There was the deputy nazir, who is a member of the Southern People's Liberation Movement, which fought a 20-year civil war against the government.

They sat together around plastic tables and feasted on communal plates of roasted lamb and goat. The brass band struck up the traditional music once again, as a festive air began to take hold.

On the next-to-last day of the gathering, an official from the joint U.N.-African Union peacekeeping mission to Sudan, which is trying to help mediate an end to the conflict, swooped in for an hour.

"We've been promoting the use of traditional methods to solve conflicts," said Henry Anyidoho, the deputy political head of mission. "You see all over Africa, where that system is broken, you have problems. Where that system is in place, you have no problems."

On the final day, organizers arranged a rip-roaring horse race on the edge of town, with the hope of rebuilding a connection between the public and the tribal leaders.

As the sun went down, the leaders sat under a red tarp along the straight, sandy track. On the other side, perhaps 8,000 people showed up -- farmers and herders, merchants, young men and others who lined up along the white metal railing. Several spectators said they had not come to honor the leaders but to enjoy a good race, which soon got underway.

The main event pitted an unknown horse from the countryside against two Thoroughbreds belonging to the nazir's family. In a cloud of red dust and to the wild cheers of the crowd, the unknown horse won.


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