3 days ago
‘Killing is part of their life': The men raised on violence who are both perpetrators and victims as South Sudan faces return to civil war
The trauma of war
Ten years ago, while conducting fieldwork in Nepal for my PhD and book, I interviewed more than 60 former members of the People's Liberation Army (PLA) to examine how their participation in the civil war – known as the People's War – affected notions of masculinity within the armed group.
While I never asked about trauma or psychological difficulties, it became clear these were present for many of the men – just never explicitly spoken about. Instead, they would talk about their sense of disillusionment or lack of ability to fulfil societal expectations of masculinity – all the while, carefully keeping their emotions in check.
These emotions would only surface in more casual conversations over tea or food, following the formal interviews. In these moments, the men revealed a more vulnerable side – often expressing sadness, frustration, and a desire to share their more personal stories.
It was a clear shift from the displays of hardened masculinity in their narratives of the battlefield. Some of these informal exchanges hinted at signs of PTSD – for example, in their descriptions of flashbacks, sleep difficulties and short temperedness.
One young man who was extremely polite and courteous became very fidgety after the end of the interview. He told me: 'In the night I can't sleep, because I hear bomb blasts inside my head.'
Another, clearly proud of his role in the People's War, recounted his bravery on the battlefield. Yet, when he spoke of the six months of torture he had endured in police custody, his composure faltered and he struggled to hold back tears. He showed me a photo of his three-year-old child, saying: 'This is why I will never return to battle.'
What I encountered was men who appeared uneasy about expressing emotions as this runs contrary to masculine expectations, but were also frustrated at a lack of outlets to tell their story.
During one interview with a former PLA member in the western district of Bardiya, I noticed a group of ex-PLA fighters gathered at the boundary of his home after they had heard an interview was taking place. As my interpreter and I were leaving, a thin man at the front of the crowd began shouting aggressively at us.
Having initially assumed his anger was directed at my presence in the area, I realised it stemmed from his frustration at not being selected for an interview. 'Why does everyone always want to interview you?' he shouted at the man I had just spoken to. The former fighter's anger, fuelled by alcohol, appeared to reflect his frustration at lacking a platform to share his own story.
From Nepal in 2016 to South Sudan in 2024, amid the violence and trauma of war and the daily expectations of masculinity associated with being a provider and protector, there appeared to be few outlets through which these men could talk freely about their emotions, tell their stories, and admit their mental health difficulties.
Many of the men interviewed in South Sudan had been involved in violent clashes involving killings at some point in their lives. In interviews carried out in Kapoeta North, a county in eastern Equatoria, some men reported having constant flashbacks to the sounds of gunshots – when they tried to sleep at night, these sounds would 'become real', stopping them getting any proper rest: 'Sometimes you can wake up in the middle of the night and find yourself trembling as if these people are coming for you.'
One man explained how he would get up in the night to follow a 'black shadow' like a ghost. When community members would run after him to stop him, he would become 'hostile and behave like he wants to kill everyone' – because, he explained, he saw his friend being killed on the battlefield and the memory of this would not leave him, especially in the night.
A woman described how, when young men are involved in 'killing', their 'mind is not functioning well.' Contextualising this claim she explained: 'There was this man who got traumatised due to the ongoing conflict of raiding. He fought many battles until the gunshot sound affected his brain and made him crazy.'
She then described a man who could not accept his friend had died in a cattle camp raid and insisted on returning to the battlefield, even though the community told him not to. 'After confirming [his friend's death] he ran mad and became confused. We say that such a person had his heart broken by the incident he witnessed, and we say he is mad.'
Men whose companions have been killed can become fixated on revenge, as Sebit explains, 'It will torture their mind until they go and avenge the death of the person that was killed.' Some will encourage them to take revenge but others, like Lokwi, are trying to discourage revenge killings and working towards peaceful resolution of disputes through dialogue.
