Can one shape norms and institutions to build peace and development? I take a skeptical view of training programs that purport to reduce violence and ‘peacebuild’. After a visit to a rural training center in Liberia, however, I may stand corrected.

Liberia’s national demobilization and reintegration program came with a ‘weapons test’–if you had a weapon, you got demobilized, including a package of household items, cash, and a voucher for a vocational training program.

Not surprisingly, more than one group of ex-combatants (or ‘excoms’ as they refer to themselves) were relieved of their weapons by their commanders, who distributed them as patronage to others.

One such group of excoms, deprived of the demobilization program, were illegally tapping rubber trees in a private plantation. There are dozens of such groups across the country, and some are feared as a security threat. To deal with the problem, the UK government granted funds to an NGO to start an agricultural training center for the youth in this ‘hotspot’.

About 400 of the excoms–including perhaps 20 or 30 women–took up residence at the agricultural center. They are being trained in animal husbandry, and plantation agriculture. They also receive literacy and numeracy training, since many never had a chance to attend school. They also participate in conflict management and analysis training taught by NEPI, the group of excoms led by Johnson Borh, whom I mentioned in a previous post.

The story these trainers tell is a remarkable one. The first few weeks of classes, they were woken up several times an hour to settle conflicts and stop fights. Violence had become the norm for these young men and women–the standard response to any conflict. Inside and outside of class, NEPI has tried to instill new norms of managing disputes. Three months later, the trainers can go days or weeks without being woken up once.

The second day of our stay we woke up to a small riot. Supplies of food and soap had been delayed from the capitol, and the excoms had taken to the yard, yelling angrily with the staff and refusing to attend classes. Johnson stood in the thick of them, surrounded by two dozen angry youth, hashing it out.

Within an hour, the youth had settled back to their quarters, their elected leaders were holding a consultation, and were preparing to present a list of grievances to the school administration. Nothing was broken, few egos were bruised, and the excoms’ anger and frustration was being channeled into a peaceful and institutional process. Such an outcome, Johnson tells me, would have been unthinkable just two moths ago. But they haave succeeded in creating new norms of behavior and dispute.

Perhaps the only disappointing aspect of the program is the cost. Housing, outfitting, and training 600 youth for six months is an expensive endeavor. Few vocational and agricultural institutes exist outside Monrovia, and so the buildings had to be constructed at additional expense. True, at the end of the program, the buildings will be turned over to the Ministry of Agriculture as a permanent training institute, but its sustainability as a free and charitable institute is doubtful.

What we hope to do is evaluate a few different models of peace building–intensive and expensive, and cheap and plentiful–and examine the alternative impacts. I find the development of new norms of behavior and social institutions to be completely fascinating, and much more malleable than I imagined. The implications for the way we think about economic behavior and decision making are profound.