By Stephen Kaufman
Washington File Staff Writer

Washington -- Since its founding in 1993, more than 2200 high-school-aged children from conflict zones around the world have participated in Seeds of Peace, an organization that promotes peaceful coexistence among teenagers living on the opposite sides of conflicts.

The organization is a non-profit, non-political group funded through private donations from the corporate sector and private individuals. In 2002, the State Department and U.S. Agency for International Development awarded over $700,000 to fund specific coexistence projects.

The 14- and 15-year-old participants begin their involvement at a three-week summer camp in Maine, where they learn to listen to, respect and communicate with their peers. The experience demonstrates that once the participants, or "Seeds," get to know each other, they will discover their common humanity and look for ways to get along.

Founded by the late journalist John Wallach as an attempt to address the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Seeds of Peace has since expanded its programs to include youths from Arab countries, South Asia, the Balkans and Cyprus.

According to Seeds President Aaron David Miller, the camp brings the teenagers out of their conflict zones into an environment where they can freely associate, think critically and objectively, and hear the stories and experiences of their peers.

"A sort of transformation occurs in these kids," said Miller.

Jen Marlowe, the program director at the Seeds of Peace Center for Coexistence in Jerusalem, agreed.

"They come back highly motivated. They see themselves as ambassadors for peace ... and they see it as their mission to go and convince or spread the word to their families and their friends," she said.

Returning home after camp to resume their lives in the midst of conflict puts their newly acquired knowledge and skills to severe strains.

"[T]hey come to what some have described as a ‘never-never land,' which is Maine, and then they are catapulted back into an environment in which you go from coexistence and understanding and tolerance to conflict and violence and there's a natural tendency to reassess," said Miller. "We'd be deluding ourselves if we didn't understand the disconnect between what we are trying to do here ... and realities on the ground."

In interviews with the Washington File, several Palestinian and Israeli Seeds, who are identified only by their given names, spoke of how they are facing those realities, including peer pressure from friends, and how they remain motivated to work for peace despite ongoing violence against their communities perpetrated by some from the other side.

"People still call me naïve sometimes," said Gil, an Israeli who first attended camp in 1997. Like many of his fellow Seeds, he found some of his friends and schoolmates dismissive of his experiences and hostile to the idea that he had Palestinian friends. But fellow Israeli Aklile said some of her friends were willing to listen "because they are willing to learn."

Emma, an Arab citizen of Israel, said accusations that she is naïve are "not weird to me."

"I completely understand where they're coming from," she said. "For a person who hasn't gone through the Seeds experience, having a fellow Arab say, ‘Look, I made an Israeli friend and we talk and we have common things to talk about and he's really nice,' It does sound a little bit naïve, you know?"

Ibrahim, a Palestinian who initially attended camp in 2002, said some of his friends asked him how he could meet with Israelis "while your people are getting killed every day."

"But when I explained to them what the camp is all about, they liked its goals and even asked me if they could participate," he said, adding that, through his encouragement, three of his friends had become Seeds.

But, as Marlowe explained, the return from Maine "often is a huge shock for them because they somehow feel like ... with the internal growth and changes they've made, that their community will have somehow made that change also."

"There are definitely people that think what they're doing is wrong and they're called traitors. The Palestinians are called ‘Jew lovers,' the Israelis are called ‘Arab lovers.' Interestingly enough, if only they could hear each other, it's almost the exact same rhetoric that they're being told by their friends," said Marlowe.

But, in most cases, this is in contrast to the support Seeds receive from their families. For Ibrahim, the idea of his participation came about at his mother's urging.

"She started to encourage me to go there and meet the other side and explain to them my point of view on this conflict," he said.

Suha, who attended camp in 1994, said she found it easier to talk about her experiences and views with her family.

"[W]ith family members things seem easier, and you get people who listen to you even if they don't agree," she said. "Most important, it doesn't change your image in front of them which is not true in the case of people at school."

Miller explained that not only does the program teach coexistence and peace, but parents and Seeds alike view it as a "step up" for those aspiring to higher education. "There's no question about it that it helps," he said.

"I've been at many times invited to take part in conferences abroad and in the region," said Suha. "So Seeds of Peace gave me extra credits to take part in my community that needs people who are capable of talking logic and who are practical and might take a leading role in the coming future, thus achieving our [national] goal."

Other parents credit the experience as having produced tremendous personal growth, maturity, and "life skills."

"I was in Ramallah talking to one boy's father last week and he was saying ... ‘Nur came back a man and I notice every single day a difference in him from who he was before he went to camp and when he came back -- just the independence, the initiative, the critical thinking,'" said Marlowe.

The experience "gave me a bigger perspective, a bit more understanding and it made me ask a lot more. I began doubting every piece of information, asking where did it come from, how come and all that," said Gil.

Aklile said that before attending camp in 2002, "I didn't know if I was right wing or left wing."

"I still don't know," she said. "But one thing that I do know is that it's okay that I'm seeing ideas as they are ... and not saying that because I am right wing or left wing, this is the way I should be thinking. I just think the way I think and people will take it any way they want."

Most of the Seeds said they never viewed violence against innocent civilians as legitimate, regardless of whether it was justified on the grounds of fighting for a political cause or providing security. Now, with friendships on the other side of the political conflict, the bombing of an Israeli bus or the shelling of a Palestinian town immediately prompts telephone calls and e-mails back and forth to inquire and reassure each other that they were unharmed.

But on October 2, 2000, one of the organization's most promising and popular potential leaders, Asel Asleh, was killed by Israeli police at a demonstration. Asleh, an Arab citizen of Israel, was described as "a bridge," able to culturally connect to his peers on both sides of the conflict, according to Jen Marlowe.

Asel "was just someone with enormous talent and enormous potential, and had he been given the full span of his life ... there's no limit to what he could have done in this world, generally speaking and in terms of working on this conflict," she said.

"It was and remains one of the most painful issues we as an organization have ever confronted," said Marlowe.

For Seeds such as Ibrahim, Asleh's death is a reminder that peacemaking could require tremendous sacrifice. Suha described him and his memory as "the power that should motivate every one of us to try his best to [bring] this mess ... to an end."

For Seeds like Emma, who knew him well, Asleh's death provoked deep anger, not only at Asleh's death but at the whole Israeli-Palestinian violence. She said she returned to the Maine camp for a second time in 2001 full of resentment.

"I was really angry and I expressed it in every possible way," she said. "I yelled and I cried and sometimes I didn't want to talk to people, and after I went to camp I came back here and disconnected every possible connection I had with Seeds for a few months. I needed time to breathe and I was very angry."

Not every Seed alumnus maintains a link to the organization. Emma told the story of one of her good Israeli friends from camp who lived in Haifa. For a while after returning from Maine, the two stayed in close touch and Emma would visit her home. However, after a bombing in Haifa, her friend disconnected herself from the organization.

"I know a lot of people who went to camp and had the experience and thought it was an amazing experience and everything, but then they went back and it just kind of didn't fit with the reality here," she said.

Marlowe relayed the story of a 15-year-old Israeli Seed, living on a Jewish settlement in the West Bank, who is currently under tremendous pressure from her neighborhood friends to discontinue her relationship with Seeds of Peace.

"Her friends are basically telling her that if she continues with Seeds of Peace that they're not going to have anything to do with her," she said, adding that pressure is also coming from the other side, with fellow Seeds asking her not to abandon the program.

From the organizational perspective, Marlowe said Seeds of Peace recognizes that for some, "it's too painful or it's too hard for them right now to be actively involved," and merely tries to give those alumni a venue, such as the Seeds of Peace Center for Coexistence in Jerusalem, to discuss their situation with staff members and decide what direction to take.

"It's an incredibly complex challenge that we place in front of these kids, and just the fact that they're confronting that challenge is worlds more than what most of their peers are doing," said Marlowe.