Photo by {link:http://www.flickr.com/photos/auyuchuco/3010766101/}VC Geist{/link} on Flickr.

Here in the Solomons, many Anglicans are now pursuing the long-held dream of a local university. Now retired as a diocesan bishop, I am supporting this project. With the Archbishop of the Anglican Church of Melanesia (ACOM), I co-chair the John Coleridge Patteson University Taskforce.

In the 19th century, new Anglican dioceses in Canada, the U.S., Australia and New Zealand often established universities. One thinks of King's College, Halifax; Bishop's College, Lennoxville; Trinity College, Toronto; and Huron College, London, to name just a few in Canada. The aim was the development of local higher education in a Christian (indeed, Anglican) context for the human resource needs of the emerging new countries. One factor was also economic, that is, alleviating the high cost of sending young people back to England for their university education.

At the same time, university-trained missionaries were going out to places like Melanesia, engaging with new cultures, new languages, and new social settings. Education was also an important part of mission, but it started at "the bottom" and worked up—first, literacy in the convert's own language so that he or she could read the Bible, sing hymns, and participate in the Liturgy, then (often generations later) advanced secondary and tertiary education.

Education in the Solomons

In the old Diocese of Melanesia, the church and government schools did not offer secondary education until the late 1960s and only then did a few local people begin to go overseas for tertiary training as teachers, doctors, and theological educators. Fifty years later, that pattern continues, though there is more secondary education available and many now go overseas to study.

Currently Solomon Islands has no university of its own. There are branches of the University of the South Pacific and the University of Papua New Guinea in Honiara, the capital, but usually the teacher is a video screen only. Good secondary school graduates must go on to do their university education in Fiji, Papua New Guinea, Taiwan, Australia, or New Zealand.

This situation is very costly and Solomon Islands overseas students frequently complain that the government does not send them their allowances or pay their tuition, so they are evicted from their apartments and without food or books and stationery needed for their studies. Fiji and Papua New Guinea are also sometimes unstable or violent, and stressful places to live. Students frequently want to come home when coups, strikes, and violence disrupt their studies. In short, the time has come for Solomon Islands to have a university of its own.

Why is the church involved?

But why should the church rather than the government take on this project? It is widely believed in Melanesia that education and Christian faith belong together. For example, the Anglican Church of Melanesia operates some half-dozen secondary schools, as well as a number of primary schools. They are the schools that everyone hopes their children will attend. Unfortunately, the government schools, with their more secular ethos, are plagued with student and teacher discipline problems, poor financial support, overcrowding, corruption, and often a poor quality of education.

The government's record with its diploma-level tertiary institution, the Solomon Islands College of Higher Education (SICHE), is not very good. It has enormous arrears, staff and student morale is poor, the place is rundown and many of the courses are of a low quality. There are frequent threats of student strikes and demands to dismiss faculty members.

Thus, many in the Solomons believe that higher education would stand a better chance of success if it were in the hands of the churches. Both the Anglican Church of Melanesia and the Seventh Day Adventist (SDA) Church have separate university plans underway. The SDA Church already runs a successful university in Papua New Guinea, Pacific Adventist University. The success and high quality of Divine Word University, a Roman Catholic institution in Papua New Guinea, proves that the Anglican Church of Melanesia's dream can be fulfilled.

“An enormous act of faith”

The General Synod of the ACOM has approved the formation of John Coleridge Patteson University, consisting initially of two faculties, Theology and Education (including social sciences). The existing provincial theological college, Bishop Patteson Theological College—now operating a degree program (the only degree programme in the country) and too big for its present site—will become the Theology Faculty.

Already, before there is any new infrastructure in place, the task force is organizing a teachers' training program that we hope will begin in July using existing church facilities. There is an enormous need for teachers' training in the Solomons as there are hundreds of untrained teachers (having only some secondary school) teaching in primary schools and few places in SICHE to train them.

Future faculties under consideration include Nursing, Technology (to replace all the fly-by-night computer schools that dot the Honiara landscape), and Management (including development studies and project management). A research institute is also envisioned as part of the university.

The ACOM has purchased a large and beautiful upland site of 182 hectares east of Honiara. For the last two years we have been working on the project proposal which will soon be ready. The project has a full-time coordinator, architect, and education coordinator (to get the teachers’ training off the ground). The Education and Children's Services Faculty of the University of Chester has offered to be a partner in the development of the Education Faculty. We are considering officially launching the project with a fundraising consultation around Bishop Patteson's Day in September this year.

JCPU is an enormous act of faith as no donor has yet made a financial commitment to the project. The Solomon Islands government has been supportive but often they do not have the money they promise. (One complication is that Solomon Islands has no higher education legislation so we are working with the government to develop that.) However, local fundraising has begun, and we hope the quality and nature of the education we are proposing will attract funders. And we shall start small, like the early universities of Canada.

Two-thirds of the island of Walande (Solomon Islands) were swept away by king tides in 2009. Photo by Derick Loea.

A retired bishop explains how global warming is flooding his former diocese.

For 34 years, I have lived and ministered in the South Pacific, where all countries are affected in one way or another by global warming and rising sea levels. We are sometimes called the “liquid continent” and when the sea level rises, for many it becomes a crisis.

Much media attention has been focused on the small nation of Tuvalu, whose entire land area is virtually at sea level. Indeed, Tuvaluans expressed disbelief about a recent tsunami warning issued for them “to head for higher ground.” There is no higher ground. And the whole nation could not fit atop the country's only four-storey office building. With rising sea levels, storms, and “king tides,” frequently much of the country is under water already. Discussion is underway about virtually resettling the whole nation, perhaps the world's first global-warming refugees.

I write just after the United Nations Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen has taken place. The results are not very hopeful for the Pacific nations greatly affected by climate change. Along with the Minister of the Environment, three young women from the Solomon Islands attended the summit to represent the Solomons, taking with them a film on the effects of climate change here that was shown to the delegates. I have not yet seen this film, but hope it is shown widely.

Solomon Islands encompass many low-lying coral atolls—large, ring-shaped reefs—including the world's largest inhabited coral atoll, Lord Howe or Ontong Java. It is located northeast of Isabel and Malaita islands, a day's trip by ship from the nearest large island. The atoll has an overall area of 1,400 sq. kms. (including ocean), but the 122 small islands that make it up are only 12 sq. kms. in total. Lord Howe is a part of the diocese I looked after for 12 years and I visited it half a dozen times. Many times I spent the whole day inside the peaceful lagoon, with strings of islands in the distance on both sides of the Southern Cross. I would sail from the large village of Luaniua on the south to the smaller village of Pelau on the north, each a parish with its own parish priest. The atoll is entirely Anglican. Most of it is virtually at sea level.

The people of Lord Howe are Polynesians, closely related to the people of Nukamanu (or Tasman) islands located to the north on the Papua New Guinea side of the border. The atoll has a population of about 3,000, all living off the rich resources of the lagoon. The islands are famous for their fresh and sun-dried reef fish, clams, and swamp taro, a traditional root crop grown in pits that are hollowed out of the sand and coral and then filled with compost. The men have incredible diving skills and the women dry fish and make a heavy swamp taro pudding, kakake.

However, in my last two visits to Lord Howe, clearly something was wrong. Sea water was seeping into the swamp taro pits from below and, following storms and “king tides,” covering and flooding them from above. The sea salt killed the young taro shoots and in a few months the villages were without a major staple, requiring the emergency importation of rice to prevent people from starving.

After church one day, the parish committee and I talked about global warming and rising sea levels over breakfast, considering possible solutions. There has been talk of resettlement, and at one point Malaita province even tried to set aside land for resettlement from another low-lying atoll to the south, Sikaiana. But the Malaita land was disputed and nothing came of the plan. Papua New Guinea has set up a resettlement scheme for people on Polynesian atolls near Bougainville and there has been a little migration. But always the problem is the same—for hundreds of years Lord Howe people have been living off the sea and to shift to the land without a reef nearby will require a whole new way of life. Many would prefer risking the rising sea levels.

Interestingly, the solution the community felt most positive about was intermarriage with other island groups, permitting them to resettle without controversy on other islands. Yet with such resettlement there is the risk of losing language, culture, and an ancient and distinctive way of life.

There has also been some attempt at adaption—for example, introducing vegetable gardening on raised beds, but there really is not much good soil, as the atolls are almost entirely sand.

Because the lagoon is rich in bêche-de-mer (sea cucumber, for which Asians will pay dearly), clams, trochus (sea snails), and fish, my guess is that many people will decide to stay, even as the sea rises, coping however they can. But many others are leaving, moving to the Lord Howe Settlement in the capital Honiara (also at sea level, as is the whole central business district of Honiara) or other places around the Solomon Islands.

This is just one global warming story from the Solomons. There are also the artificial islands of Malaita and atolls of Temotu. On the small island of Fanelei in South Malaita, many times I have waded to church in sea water up to my calves at high tides. Salt water people that they are, people build their houses higher and higher or move to the mainland. But more and more, “king tides,” which often accompany a storm and high winds, destroy everything in their path. Rising sea levels are part of this new phenomenon. As land is jealously guarded in the Solomons, some people have no place to go.

I have just returned from spending Christmas in nearby Walande, where people, concerned about rising sea levels, have been moving to the mainland for the last 10 years. Early last year two-thirds of the island were finally swept away. The accompanying photo was taken soon after that disaster. But the new mainland settlement flourishes, as people are still near the sea upon which they so much depend.

Solomon Islanders are not without blame, as they too contribute to global warming. Logging continues at an unsustainable rate. Taxis, buses, trucks, and diesel generators spew out pollution. Clearing of mangrove forests goes ahead, although recent tsunamis have, I think, slowed down this destruction. The Solomons should be using solar and wind power rather than fossil fuels, but the equipment and installation costs are beyond most people's means.

Solomon Islanders are survivors. I believe that, despite the rising sea levels, many people will stay where they are and cope; many have no choice as they are unable to find land elsewhere, unless the government facilitates resettlement. Others will move to town, contributing to urban drift and social unrest. Rising sea levels are just one more problem for the many people who already struggle against rampant malaria, high infant and maternal mortality rates, inaccessible education, and the constant grind of poverty. However, the next generation may not be so accepting of the status quo. While they have not generally done so yet, rising sea levels may displace these other problems as some people's first concern. Land problems will be the inevitable result.

Where is the church on all this? The Anglican Church of Melanesia sends representatives to the Anglican Communion Environmental Network meetings. We have offered to host the next meeting of the Network in the Solomons so others can see how serious the problem is. I also think that if eventually the government does not act where resettlement is the only option, the church, with its commitment to holistic human development, will act instead. But the best solution would be a change in the world's energy consumption habits and a reverse of what is still, for now, reversible.

Canoes are a common mode of transport in the Solomons. Photo by Vianney Carriere.

On the surface, peace has returned to Solomon Islands. Many businesses are booming, the incoming planes are full of expatriates, and there is finally the desperately needed “law and order” that enables a country to prosper. Yet many feel that the country (and especially its capital, Honiara) is a time bomb waiting to explode again, as it did in anti-Chinese riots a couple of years ago. Unemployed youth move to Honiara, and the gap between rich and poor increases. Acts of ethnic violence continue. Is there any way the country can put to rest its unhappy past? One answer is a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC).

Roots of the conflict

From 1999 to 2003, Solomon Islands went through a period of “ethnic tension” that came close to becoming a civil war. Solomon Islands is a small nation in the southwest Pacific with a population approaching 500,000. It has many ethnic and linguistic groups. Two of the biggest islands are Malaita and Guadalcanal. On the latter is located the capital of the country, Honiara, a city of about 60,000 people. Honiara grew out of a World War II airbase established by the United States as they pushed the Japanese off Guadalcanal at the beginning of the war.

Both the base and the town attracted many workers and their families, especially from the heavily populated island of Malaita nearby. Over the years the Malaita population spread out into the rural Guadalcanal and became much of the labour force in the oil, palm, and gold mining industries. There are big cultural differences between Malaita and Guadalcanal, and there was increasing conflict over the years, including some killings.

Finally, in 1999, a Guadalcanal militant force, the Guadalcanal Liberation Army (GLA), attacked Malaita settlements on Guadalcanal, driving the Malaitans back to Malaita and into Honiara. At first the Malaitans did not retaliate, but eventually a corresponding Malaita militant force was formed, the Malaita Eagle Force (MEF). For a few months the two forces fought it out, and in the process the MEF precipitated a coup that brought down the elected government. About 100 people died in the conflict, but thousands lost their homes and were traumatized in other ways.

During this time there were armed conflicts, kidnappings, torture, murders, and human rights abuses on all sides, mostly on Guadalcanal but also in other provinces as the militant groups tried  to establish control. Finally, through the work of the churches, women's groups, and overseas countries, a cease-fire was called; the Townsville Peace Agreement was signed, and a multinational force, the Regional Assistance Mission for Solomon Islands (RAMSI), was invited into the country to restore law and order, and give support to the judiciary, police, and financial sectors.

Since the RAMSI presence (still present after six years), the country has generally been peaceful, but many people have scars from the ethnic tension years—especially related to loved ones killed, tortured, or missing. The government and RAMSI have pursued many of these situations as criminal cases, but often there has been no deep reconciliation between the parties. Other cases are still not known or are unresolved.

National reconciliation?

For some years, Solomon Islands churches have been asking for a government TRC rather like South Africa's, to enable victims of the conflict to voice their experiences and for perpetrators to offer their repentance, all in the interests of reconciliation and the peaceful future of the country.

Finally this year Parliament passed legislation to form the Solomon Islands TRC, and in late March, Archbishop Desmond Tutu came to the Solomons to launch it. The TRC has five members (three men, two women), and the chair is the Rev. Sam Ata, former dean of St. Barnabas (Anglican) Cathedral in Honiara. There are two overseas members from Fiji and Peru.

The TRC work began in August, so we are now waiting. Will it accomplish what is hoped? It has a two-year mandate and the power to travel all over the country and to subpoena witnesses. It does not have the power to grant or recommend full amnesty to perpetrators but testimony given by them cannot be used in courts, so there is a kind of limited amnesty. But will the victims come forward to testify? And will perpetrators be willing to share their stories?

Such a national reconciliation process is new for the Solomons, but it happens all the time in villages and in families. I sometimes say that Solomon Islands cultures are centripetal rather than centrifugal, with people always returning to reconciliation with their community. Therefore, I am hopeful about this process.

In Solomon Islands there are three strands of reconciliation—the traditional cultures, Christianity (and other new religions), and government; reconciliation is not usually complete unless all are three are deeply involved. Somehow the TRC must bring all three strands into relationship with each other to reach maximum truth-telling, forgiveness, and reconciliation. Often Western advisors are uncomfortable with this integration of traditional culture, Christianity, and secular government, but it is clearly the Solomon Islands way.

Already there have been some difficulties. Amnesty International, for example, has criticized the limited amnesty provision, arguing that those who committed human rights abuses should not be protected in any way but rather face full criminal charges. Personally, I think this criticism is premature and ignores the other two strands of the Solomons' reality: traditional culture and the church.

Some militants have already faced court cases, been imprisoned and served their sentences, and feel that they have already paid the price for their actions; they do not want to go through the process all over again. They also argue that some politicians who were involved in, or even instigated, the conflict (“the big fish”) might hide behind the TRC rather than face criminal charges.

There is also the fear that new revelations will produce new demands for traditional compensation payments, perhaps even from the government for not providing the police services that should have protected the population from such abuse.

But in the end the process belongs to the victims of the abuses, and I think that is its strength. It means that their pain will not be ignored but be given a chance to express itself. If the TRC members are good listeners and prepared to go to some of the most remote places in the Solomons under uncomfortable conditions, then I think the TRC will work. They also need to work without fear and be willing to subpoena some of the most powerful people in the country, for many are under suspicion still. And the stories of former militants also have to be taken seriously, as they did not act without cause.

The TRC was launched with the prayers of the nation. Those prayers will continue—that the TRC be good listeners and be treated with respect and cooperation; that all parties in the conflict be willing to share their stories, listen to one another, forgive and accept justice; that politicians not use the process for their own purposes; and that the rest of the world (especially our close powerful neighbours) support the process and not try to manipulate or subvert it. We ask for your prayers too.