peace versus the absence of violence
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:05 pmThis weekend i spent a fair amount of time pondering what peace is and how it should be achieved.
Whenever we have a war, there's a bunch of shooting and bombing and fear and rape and famine and torture and maiming, and whole nations are deeply traumatized and face environmental and economic crises for years or decades. And after the primary spasms of horrific violence end, there are "peace talks." Or, often the "peace talks" happen when there's been some terrorism and skirmishing and threats.
This whole idea of "peace talks" though enshrines a number of unspoken presumptions and agendas that i want to unravel a bit.
First, look at who gets to be party to the peace talks: the generals and warlords and state leaders and other people who masterminded the war in the first place. Does anyone ever speak for, or listen to, the refugees, the broken families, the orphans and widows, the children who were prostituted or drugged and made into soldiers?
Also absent are the war profiteers. They would prefer to stay in the shadows, because they benefit most when no one pays any attention to their role in all this and everyone just assumes that they are passive merchants, not power brokers. They want people to think that it wouldn't matter if they stopped selling arms or hiring out mercenaries because the demand exists independent of their supply, so if they got out of the war business someone else would just offer the same products anyway.
The people who do get to participate in peace talks do so in order to advance their agenda -- and i assert this to be the case for all parties no matter what ideology or doctrine they epouse: they want to duck any kind of accountability they might otherwise face for war crimes, and they want a seat in the cartel that has a monopoly on violence in the region. Throughout the peace talks, it is in their interest to make it seem that they are willing to return to violence at the drop of a hat -- as if being violent is the easy option, and not being violent is a perpetual struggle. Running and outfitting an army is not cheap, the resources for training, weapons, and provisions have to come from somewhere, and yet we are to believe that being nonviolent is the harder option? At peace talks, the biggest asset one has is the appearance of having limitless capacity for violence, and how backward is that?
So the idea of "peace" promoted by the state is the absence of factional organized violence, enforced by a cartel who assert the unique authority to use sanctioned violence in that region. Anyone else uses violence, they are criminals; the state uses violence, it is just and heroic. This is "peace:" unrealized potential violence. The state wants you to believe that peace comes at the point of a gun.
Which is where, like so many of the matters i consider, this comes down to one's view of human nature. If people are fundamentally unruly animals, for whom it actually is more difficult to be nonviolent than brutal, then pacificism doesn't make sense, and neither does compassion. Under the pessmistic view of human nature, we should be thankful if we live in an area with a strong state and a healthy culture of fear-respect for God, police and military.
However, i'm not inclined to think that way, for several reasons, not the least of which is that what we are witnessing is not the action of humans in our natural habitat but the action of humans under the severe stresses of crowding and being caged. If our unruliness is fundamentally the reaction to this stress -- along with stress from various other stressors -- then adding the stress of perpetually-threatened state violence cannot be a lasting solution. The better solution, it seems to me, is a more direct response to the stresses which cause our unruliness.
Is peace more than the absence of war? I believe instead that it is the steps we take to foster greater understanding, less prejudice, and reduced stress. If this is the case, then we all have a stake in promoting and developing peace. And we, all of us, not just the ones with the guns and bombs, have a voice in saying what it looks like.
Whenever we have a war, there's a bunch of shooting and bombing and fear and rape and famine and torture and maiming, and whole nations are deeply traumatized and face environmental and economic crises for years or decades. And after the primary spasms of horrific violence end, there are "peace talks." Or, often the "peace talks" happen when there's been some terrorism and skirmishing and threats.
This whole idea of "peace talks" though enshrines a number of unspoken presumptions and agendas that i want to unravel a bit.
First, look at who gets to be party to the peace talks: the generals and warlords and state leaders and other people who masterminded the war in the first place. Does anyone ever speak for, or listen to, the refugees, the broken families, the orphans and widows, the children who were prostituted or drugged and made into soldiers?
Also absent are the war profiteers. They would prefer to stay in the shadows, because they benefit most when no one pays any attention to their role in all this and everyone just assumes that they are passive merchants, not power brokers. They want people to think that it wouldn't matter if they stopped selling arms or hiring out mercenaries because the demand exists independent of their supply, so if they got out of the war business someone else would just offer the same products anyway.
The people who do get to participate in peace talks do so in order to advance their agenda -- and i assert this to be the case for all parties no matter what ideology or doctrine they epouse: they want to duck any kind of accountability they might otherwise face for war crimes, and they want a seat in the cartel that has a monopoly on violence in the region. Throughout the peace talks, it is in their interest to make it seem that they are willing to return to violence at the drop of a hat -- as if being violent is the easy option, and not being violent is a perpetual struggle. Running and outfitting an army is not cheap, the resources for training, weapons, and provisions have to come from somewhere, and yet we are to believe that being nonviolent is the harder option? At peace talks, the biggest asset one has is the appearance of having limitless capacity for violence, and how backward is that?
So the idea of "peace" promoted by the state is the absence of factional organized violence, enforced by a cartel who assert the unique authority to use sanctioned violence in that region. Anyone else uses violence, they are criminals; the state uses violence, it is just and heroic. This is "peace:" unrealized potential violence. The state wants you to believe that peace comes at the point of a gun.
Which is where, like so many of the matters i consider, this comes down to one's view of human nature. If people are fundamentally unruly animals, for whom it actually is more difficult to be nonviolent than brutal, then pacificism doesn't make sense, and neither does compassion. Under the pessmistic view of human nature, we should be thankful if we live in an area with a strong state and a healthy culture of fear-respect for God, police and military.
However, i'm not inclined to think that way, for several reasons, not the least of which is that what we are witnessing is not the action of humans in our natural habitat but the action of humans under the severe stresses of crowding and being caged. If our unruliness is fundamentally the reaction to this stress -- along with stress from various other stressors -- then adding the stress of perpetually-threatened state violence cannot be a lasting solution. The better solution, it seems to me, is a more direct response to the stresses which cause our unruliness.
Is peace more than the absence of war? I believe instead that it is the steps we take to foster greater understanding, less prejudice, and reduced stress. If this is the case, then we all have a stake in promoting and developing peace. And we, all of us, not just the ones with the guns and bombs, have a voice in saying what it looks like.