‘Peacemakers provide equally-passionate alternatives in the language of peace.’ Photo: by Egor Myznik on Unsplash
Pacifism in a time of war: Gillian Metheringham on a pathway of nonviolence
‘Pacifism is a response to the complexities of violence in the messiness of real life.’
I listened when Oliver Robertson was one of the ‘witnesses’ on the BBC Radio 4 programme Moral Maze (‘Pacifism on show’, 31 March). For those who missed it, he was presenting the case for pacifism to a panel of commentators and academics. The discussion
Some on the panel painted a very simplified selection of choices on the subject of war: either defend yourself with arms, or be invaded; allow arms manufacturers free rein, or be left undefended; kill or be killed.
How hard it can be to explain the nuances of pacifism. Sceptics are fond of presenting extreme examples to test the waters: what would you do if an armed person was breaking through your front door and about to kill your family, and all you had was a gun, with only a few seconds to decide? Well, I have to say, if it was me I would probably shoot. But that’s not the interesting question, and it’s not what pacifism is about. Pacifism is a response to the complexities of violence in the messiness of real life, and it’s through that messiness that nonviolent action seeks to define the best possible path, step by step.
Lots of things begin to happen when groups of people tumble towards war. One of them is the gaming of the system in a way that drives events towards violence. Arms dealers make a profit from selling weapons, so it is in their interest to nurture hostility on all sides. Politicians can grow their reputations on displays of power, and it is also in their interests, if not to actively push towards war, then at least to avoid all behaviour that speaks of appeasement, which is often the same thing. Many of us were chilled by the grandiosity of our then-prime minister’s speeches at the outbreak of war in Ukraine.
In cases like these, then, we can see that it is in those individuals’ personal interests to promote war. This is entirely separate from what we might see as the ‘real’ reasons behind the hostilities. It is a mistake to say, therefore, however often it is said, that nobody wants war. In fact, lots of people want war, whether they admit it or not, and those desires are powerful.
We also get locked into a compelling narrative of war. The associated vocabulary is purposefully uplifting, bubbling with victories, heroism, triumphs, courage, and loyalty to a great cause. Who wouldn’t be moved by a people giving their lives for the freedom of their children? The heady cocktail of warlike language is always close at hand. And how can someone die in a better way than when facing fearful odds, for the ashes of their ancestors and the temples of their gods? Our culture is so thick with words praising violence – overwhelmingly so in the context of a necessary force waging against an obvious evil – that it is easy, almost, to look forward to it, to long for a chance to prove one’s worth.
It is in this messy quagmire of mixed motives, concealed agendas and human passions that pacifism seeks to find paths away from violence. It should be judged by its successes in this context. Pacifism constantly looks for nonviolent solutions, at every step. These come in many forms, and they don’t stop coming – before, throughout, and after any conflict. During Moral Maze, Oliver spoke of the hourglass model of conflict, which reminds us that wars don’t exist in a vacuum. They are not cut off from their historical antecedents, or from what comes next. Differences and opposition can escalate until the situation is driven through a pinch-point of war. After war comes the resumption of normal life and the chance of reconciliation. Opportunities for nonviolent action exist long before the first shot is fired; they then continue throughout war, and into the period following.
Nonviolent solutions can take many forms. They can address the escalation of violence driven by arms dealers, for whom war is a necessary customer context. Political decisions may restrict what such vendors can sell, as well as to whom, and how. Public opinion can be harnessed to push against them, depriving them of skilled labour or investment. Such decisions are affected, in a democracy, by protests, lobbying, and campaigns, which also move public opinion.
Those seeking peace can address the possibilities for nonviolent options before and during a conflict, by raising awareness with political actors and the public, and pointing out each occasion that such a path opens up. And paths open up at all points of the hourglass. It is a mistake to imagine that opportunities for diplomacy no longer emerge after arms have been taken up. Even when, as in Ukraine, the war seems to involve an intractable authoritarian leader with whom genuine negotiations are impossible, he will have his own agenda. It will involve things other than the war, and things will change over time. The pacifist approach is to be constantly vigilant for those openings, ready to grasp them when they appear.
Peacemakers can also address the jingoistic rhetoric of a population that is caught up in the passion of warlike vocabulary. Pacifist social media posts, letters, articles, protests, vigils, and campaigns that get public attention, can suggest a different vocabulary, and can change the narrative. Peacemakers can provide equally-passionate alternatives in the language of peace. Politicians are always aware of their voting public, so this approach touches them too. They often measure their own actions by how well they further their re-election – changing the public narrative can affect the activities of those in parliament.
Oliver’s splendid defence of pacifism made me realise that it is always possible for nonviolent actions to bring benefit, even when the only option seems to be to carry on fighting. Our job, as pacifists, is to be constantly vigilant for these openings. Then, when they emerge, we need to talk about them, write about them, hold vigils about them. For some of us, it means making the right decisions about them, so that they can be built on in all the far reaches of the conflict.
You can still listen to this episode of Moral Maze at http://bbc.in/3K1i3TG.
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