By Wass Puluku (Eno Neyarale and Pepeyange Yope)

The Highlands of Papua New Guinea are often viewed by the outside world through a lens of violence. News headlines focus on the devastation of Tribal warfare in regions like Porgera in Enga Province and neighboring Hela Province. They count the casualties and track the spread of modern high-powered firearms. What these global reports fail to see, however, is the invisible, ancient machinery of peace that operates beneath the chaos. In our communities, true and lasting peace is not delivered by state courts or police squads. It is negotiated through our own ways—heavily relying on Traditional Knowledge, Tribal Elders, and customary wealth exchange.

To understand why Tribal conflicts persist, one must understand how they begin in the modern Highlands. Historically, conflicts erupted over traditional disputes: land boundaries, the theft of pigs, or disagreements over marriage alliances.

Today, while the root causes remain tied to clan honor and resources, the introduction of modern firearms and mercenary fighters has made these clashes far deadlier. Because of our deep-rooted system of Tribal solidarity, a minor dispute between two individuals can instantly escalate into an all-out war involving thousands of clan members. When a brother is harmed, the entire Tribe feels the wound, and customary duty demands a response.

Tribal conflict team ready to tie up pigs for compensation.

When these fights erupt, the immediate instinct of the Western world is to call for government intervention. However, in the valleys of Enga and Hela, State policing and formal court systems routinely fail. Western law is built on individual guilt; it seeks to identify, arrest, and imprison a single perpetrator. But Highlands culture sees conflict as a collective issue between entire Tribal ecosystems. When police arrest one young man, the underlying grievance between the two Tribes remains completely untouched. 

Furthermore, State law enforcement is often seen as alien, under-resourced, or biased, sometimes worsening local tensions rather than cooling them. A prison sentence does not heal a broken relationship between clans; it merely delays the next battle.

Real resolution only begins when the State steps aside and allows our traditional mediation process to take over. This process relies on three sacred pillars: the authority of Tribal Elders, neutral ground, and the complex system of customary wealth exchange (bel kol or blood money).

Opponent Tribal conflict resolution pigs ready to compensate the deceased killed.

When a fight reaches a standstill, respected Tribal Elders from neutral, unrelated clans step forward as go-betweens. These mediators risk their lives to walk between battle lines, carrying messages of temporary truce. They do not use weapons; their authority comes from their deep knowledge of ancestral boundaries, genealogies, and customary laws. They provide a neutral space where leaders from the warring sides can finally speak face-to-face without losing dignity.

The climax of our traditional peace process is the exchange of wealth, primarily involving pigs and financial compensation. To an outside observer, this looks like a simple financial transaction. In reality, it is a deeply spiritual and social binding mechanism. Pigs represent the ultimate form of customary wealth and livelihood in the Highlands. Giving them up is a profound demonstration of sacrifice and remorse. When a Tribe pays compensation for lives lost, they are literally “cooling the hearts” of their rivals and restoring the cosmic and social balance that was broken by violence. Once the wealth is accepted, a customary treaty is forged, often sealed with a shared feast or the public breaking of weapons.
 

Local Peace & Good Order Committees handing over compensation demand order to Tribal conflict opponent side. 

The lesson the Highlands offers to the wider world is simple yet profound: true accountability cannot be forced from the top down by a distant government. Lasting peace must grow from within the community itself. Even in the face of modern weapons and changing times, the Traditional Knowledge of our Elders and the restorative power of customary exchange remain our strongest shields against total destruction. We do not need outside policing to fix our problems; we need the world to respect and support our own way of making peace.

–Wass Puluku is an Indigenous writer and cultural chronicler from the Highlands of Papua New Guinea, living and working at the intersection of Enga and Hela Provinces. He hails from Umambo Village, located in the Lower Porgera region of Enga Province and proudly belongs to the Eno Neyarale and Pepeyange Yope clans. Drawing on two decades of frontline experience in community diplomacy and Tribal mediation, his work focuses on the safeguarding of Indigenous Knowledge Systems, ancestral conflict resolution, and the protection of endangered oral traditions from rapid industrialization. 

Top photo: Death relatives ready to accept and recieve compensation.