![Pangas into Plowshares]()
by Chris Horst | Jun 25, 2012 | Blog |
They were the instrument of the genocide. Where gas chambers and grenades keep killing at arm’s length—detached and swift—pangas did just the opposite. Coarse and weighty, these machetes inflicted wounds by the sweat of their owner. To murder with a panga is like writing a letter with a feather pen. Slower and more personal, the genocidaires wielded these tragic blades:
[The planners of the genocide] directed the importation of hundreds of thousands of pangas and other “agricultural elements” like hoes, axes, scythes, and knives. The pangas alone were enough to arm every third adult male in the country. – Stephen Kinzer
Fear fueled the genocide. Radio DJs circled vitriolic warnings of a Tutsi uprising, stoking the Hutu majority to a preemptive “final solution” of the Tutsi threat. Genocidaires struck fear in their victims, deploying the foulest of tactics. Rape, torture, cannibalism and dismemberment accompanied the killers fatal attacks. Even more than guns could, their knives enflamed deep fear across the nation. The panga is the lasting icon of the bloodbath that stole the lives of over one million people.
Source: Google Images
When I arrived in Rwanda, I came with trepid excitement: Excited by the country’s newfound energy, but uneasy about unearthing its past. When I walked the halls of the genocide memorial in Kigali, I relived all the stories I’ve heard about the most-harrowing global event of my lifetime.
I ached for the thousands of fallen children and stumbled as I walked past the concrete vaults that hold the remains of over 250,000 victims. What struck me most, however, was the encasement of genocide weapons. Right in the center of the case were an assortment of pangas, all with haunting stories engraved into their cruel edges and worn handles.
Earlier in the week, I visited the great silverback mountain gorillas, Rwanda’s most-popular tourist attraction. They lived up to their high billing. I stood within touching distance of several 400-lb beasts. No bars or concrete moats kept me from these beautiful wild animals, however. We watched them in their habitat and allowed them to wander among our group.
The gorillas don’t wander the streets of Rwanda. Befitting their name, these mountain gorillas live high in the jungles. We trekked through thick woods and scaled steep terrain to find them. As we came close to our destination, our capable and effervescent guide, Bernice, cleared the final steps of our path. With each smooth swipe of her machete, she widened our trail till we reached our journey’s end.
Pangas still exist in Rwanda, an unpleasant reminder of the darkest days. But as I watched Bernice brandish her panga, she buoyed my countenance. A tool once used for violence now frees the path for tourism, beauty and prosperity. These guides, pangas in their hands, mean over $250M in tourism revenue, the primary industry in Rwanda’s upstart economy.
As visitors from across the globe flow into the country in search of a glimpse of these mighty creatures, pangas clear the way. The chosen tool of the genocide, once used for atrocities, now a bold symbol of the vibrant new Rwanda.
by Chris Horst | Jun 18, 2012 | Blog |
In hushed voices, a swath of national leaders orchestrated the Rwandan genocide. Labeling themselves the Zero Network, Rwandan powerbrokers crafted their “final solution” to reduce the number of Rwandan Tutsis to zero. I’ve always assumed some sort of horrific groupthink or terror contagion struck Rwanda in 1994. I’ve believed that a few bad guys escalated an ethnic conflict into a catastrophe.
But I couldn’t have been more wrong. There was nothing haphazard, surprising, or accidental about the Rwandan genocide. It didn’t slowly evolve and wasn’t a civil-war-turned-ugly. The genocidaires murdered one million humans with the precision that a builder constructs to a blueprint:
It was a careful and long-prepared plan to destroy a people. Press reports at the end of 1994 were still talking about a country losing its sanity, but that is too simplistic an analysis. What happened in Rwanda was premeditated murder. – Hugh McCullum in A Thousand Hills
Théoneste Bagosora, popularly known as “the colonel of death,” led a group of government and military leaders that planned–down to every last hut (really)–how they would exterminate the Tutsi people. They trained thousands of Hutu boys how to chop people to death with pangas (machetes they ordered from the French). They lulled international superpowers like the UN and the United States into believing they were working toward peace.
But when the genocide started, it was evident that Bagosara’s ominous forewarning of a “second apocalypse” was understated. The radio announcers stoked the lethal rage, evidencing just how very un-accidental this event was.
Our enemy is one! We know him, he is the Tutsi! …Kill Tutsi in their homes, their parents and their children–and don’t forget the unborn fetuses!
In the end, the Zero Network accomplished 80% of their plan of killing all 1.2 million Tutsis. And just 18 years later, astoundingly, Rwanda is one of the most hopeful countries on the planet.
Hôtel des Mille Collines (aka Hotel Rwanda)
It’s my first visit to Rwanda and I’m stuck. I’m stuck between the horrors of the genocide and the optimism of an upstart nation. I can’t seem to reconcile the tragedy of the past with the promise of the future. This morning, I reflected on this tension while a group of eight Rwandan orphans led us in song. In their eyes I saw both pain and resolve. And as I worshiped with them, I came to a sense of peace about being stuck. They were too. Harrowed, but moving forward. Wounded, but not fatally. Pained, but steadied. Out of their deep affliction, the people of Rwanda carve a new path.
by Chris Horst | Jun 5, 2012 | Blog |
Attending a Saturday morning tree-planting demonstration does not appeal to the masses. But it appealed to this arbor nerd. I enrolled with vigor, anxious to learn how to properly plant a maple in the dry Coloradan soil. The instructors harped on the dangers of tree staking and overwatering. But it turned especially riveting when the topic turned to pruning. Our affable instructor shifted to a somber tone and lowered his voice almost to a whisper, like a lieutenant preparing his troops for a ruthless adversary:
Trees in Colorado want to become bushes. And if given the opportunity to do so, that is exactly what they’ll do. It is easier for them to grow wide instead of tall. Simply stated, it’s your job to not let that happen.
For a tree to push nutrients from the roots to the farthest branches is hard work. It is more energy-intensive than simply pushing through saplings near the root system. Trees circumvent the strenuous work by taking the short route (if allowed to do so). I began to see this evidenced in lawns and parks across the city. Like trees with no trunks, these poor plants suffered stunting of unsightly varieties. They did not blossom into stately sycamores or flowering poplars. Instead, they appeared trapped between life as a tree and life as a shrub.
Not long after the seminar I had my own showdown with “suckers,” these sapling-sprouts that aimed to alter the trajectory of my silver maple. Armed with the pruning artillery to bring the foe to justice, I made quick work of the intruders. And today those trees are on the path to maturity.
Next week, Alli and I board a flight for our first visit to Rwanda. Rwanda suffered one of the gravest tragedies of our lifetimes. The genocide of 1994 nearly sunk the African nation that was already plagued with poverty. But it was at this rock-bottom moment when the Rwandan people averted the paths chosen by many of their neighbors. Where elsewhere corruption and racism were given the freedom to flourish, Rwanda’s leaders pruned them aggressively.
Source: Viriginia Tech University
Today Rwanda surges into a nation of opportunity. Like a tree unencumbered by growth-inhibiting suckers, Rwanda stands tall. Prime ministers, dictators, and aristocrats watch astonishingly as poverty rates plummet and business investment soars. Through clear and aggressive reform, Rwanda is free to flourish. And it is beautiful to observe. Yes, pruning work still remains, but there is no denying the identity of this country. It is not to be confused with the failing states that border it. Rwanda is a thriving tree, on the course to becoming what its people want her to be.
by Chris Horst | May 8, 2012 | Blog |
A tense cloud hovered above the desk that separated us. Meeting in an aging office building in a small Romanian town, Dorian articulated a troubling reality about his organization: Nobody liked it.
I was in Romania to find a good microfinance organization. Friends of HOPE funded an exploratory trip to determine whether Romania would be a good place for us to expand. With a presence nearby in Ukraine, Russia and Moldova; Romania was a natural next step for our expansion. Traveling the country by train for three months, I met with dozens of leaders to learn more about the needs of entrepreneurs and about the current resources that were available to them in their country. It was largely encouraging, but my meeting with Dorian gave me pause.
Dorian aired many grievances about his clients. His organization planned business training sessions and no clients show up. They offered business loans, but very few paid them back. They offered consulting services, but nobody was buying. Their clients didn’t like or value their products. That reality would normally prompt sympathy from me, not frustration. But I felt much more of the latter because of his closing remarks:
We’re sad that nobody is showing up for our training sessions or paying back their loans, but you know, we’re telling them about Jesus. And that’s all that truly matters.
Dorian’s comments contained a semblance of truth. I believe wholeheartedly that we need to share Jesus with those we serve. And in that light, Dorian’s enthusiasm about the gospel is admirable. But that’s where my agreement with him stops.
Slapping an ichthus on a jug of spoiled milk does not honor God. Searing a cross on a hamburger doesn’t make it taste like filet mignon. I don’t care how “Christian” your school is; if all your students fail, I’m not sending my kid there. We serve a God who created an earth that holds its axis and planets that hold their orbit. God articulated a breathtaking and precise blueprint for his tabernacle. And our God instructs us to do likewise, commanding we do our work with excellence.
Dorian spoke as if creating a substandard product was honoring to God simply because of the words he spoke. But Christian shoddy is still shoddy. Our creator demonstrated superb taste and strong attention to detail in his craftsmanship. When we ignore the needs of our customers, treat them with disdain and “ichthus-wash” it with spirituality, we do not reflect the full nature of our creator.
by Chris Horst | Apr 19, 2012 | Blog |
It’s the time of year, as they say, when spring is in the air. Mower engines rattle off their winter slumber. The garden store feels like Macy’s at Christmastime. Gardeners plot their strategies. And spring acts like therapy for this office-bound professional. Seeding grass and spreading mulch enliven me, but ‘tis the grand oaks and aspiring saplings I love the most. Trees: The lions of the vegetative kingdom.
I can’t recollect when I discovered my inner-arborist. But, I quickly learned that planting a tree is not easy work, especially in Colorado’s clay soil. Some experts (or at least a few “old wives”) instruct us to stake our new trees into the ground, protecting them from strong winds and the dangerous world beyond the warm embrace of the nursery. But if you want a strong tree, you’re wise to ignore that advice, no matter the depth of your sympathies.
Source: TLCforTrees.info
In her dissident research paper, The Myth of Staking, Dr. Linda Chalker-Scott took on powerbrokers and entrenched tree stake interest groups, saying:
Tree staking is done with the best of intentions but without regard to long-term tree health. Rather than helping a tree develop root and trunk growth that allow it to stand independently, improper tree staking replaces a supportive trunk and root system. This artificial support causes the tree to put its resources into growing taller but not growing wider. When the stakes are removed (if they ever are), the lack of trunk and root development makes these trees prime candidates for breakage or blow-down.
While Chalker-Scott allows staking in some instances—namely for exceptionally top-heavy trees—she never permits it for longer than one growing season. Wait longer, and any short-term benefits will be awash in long-term issues because of the stunted root system. Fine Gardener, the moral authority on all flora matters, goes even farther and warns that, “Staking a tree…can do more harm than good.”
When the wind howls and the rain falls, the young tree’s roots react and push deeper into the soil. The winds make it stronger. In contrast, staked trees do not fully mature, despite their stability. What saplings need more than protection is the opportunity to grow. To stand on their own roots. Provide your tree that chance along with healthy doses of sunshine and water and watch it thrive.
If our Creator embedded the anatomy and ability in trees to flourish, certainly He has created all people with the innate capacity to do the same. It prompts us to examine how we stake versus how we water. With our kids, friends, needy neighbors and the poor around the world: Are we staking or watering? The costs are too high to avoid the question. Let’s call a stake a stake and get into the business of helping people grow as their Creator designed.
by Chris Horst | Mar 22, 2012 | Blog |
The doorbell startled us. Late night guests are not common in our quiet neighborhood. I opened the door cautiously and saw two men bundled in snow gear. Before the door even cracked, one man interjected, “Listen, we don’t want any trouble, but we’re in a rough spot and just looking for some honest work. You need someone to clear your sidewalk?”
The biggest snow storm of the year hit Denver that morning—and brought with it a lesson in differentiating good from great.
Sixteen inches of powder heaped up in our yard and barricaded the cars lining our street. The duo at my doorstep averted eye contact, snow shovels poised at their sides. They pitched their snow removal services. After a brief negotiation, we shook on the deal and I returned inside to find cash, feeling quite pleased with my actions.
When opportunity presents itself, I love hiring folks. It breathes of dignity to provide a fair wage for hard work. I stepped outside and paid the men, quickly stepping back into the warmth of our home. But looking across the living room, I saw Alli rushing to heat a pot of water.
“It’s freezing outside, Chris,” she said. “Let’s at least share a cup of hot chocolate.”
Later that month, I visited Steve and Jim, two friends who lead a small manufacturing business in north Denver. Sandwiched between a rail yard and tire depot, their nondescript warehouse looks much less remarkable than what takes place inside. While touring their facility, they explained how their team converts stacks of sheet metal—what looked like an oversized stack of paper—into massive fans that improve the efficiency of machinery.
They shared about the steel-and-rivets nature of their business, but it was clear their success had little to do with metal fabrication. They succeeded because of how they cared for their people. With an average tenure of 15 years, this warehouse acted more like second home than a factory.
“My dad had a simple philosophy when he started this business,” Steve said. “‘Let’s pay people well, give them great benefits and really get into their lives.’”
When Steve and Jim talked about the men that worked on the shop floor, their energy intensified. They liked manufacturing, but they loved their people. The hard-nosed crewmen roaming the warehouse floors were not just workers. To Steve and Jim, they were friends, peers, and fathers.
Jim summarized their leadership approach. “Here’s what we believe: Walk beside the foul-mouthed. Treat them well. Invest in their lives over a long period time …and watch what happens.”
And over time, great things did happen because of how they militantly defended their culture of dignity and respect. They didn’t use gimmicks to achieve organizational excellence. They just remained fastened to treating people right. And the results told a story: Business was good, work wasn’t just for the weekend, and their people thrived.
Steve and Jim operate by a simple premise: The best way to do business is to hire hard workers and unleash them to use their abilities. But their special sauce is how they care. And that’s what I missed with the shovelers. Paying them for snow removal was fine, but it was the cup of hot chocolate that made it great. When we shared the warm beverages with our late-night guests, a smile lit up their faces, starkly contrasting with the cold night air. A sincere drink of worth for two men parched for it.
