‘Do you notice any absent voices here?’ Photo: by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash
Who says? Nicola Grove asks Friends to listen to marginalised voices
‘For me, a “but” in this context is acceptable.’
I was recently in a meeting about how to promote the stories of marginalised people. We were focusing on disability. Family members were prominent, sharing moving and often uplifting accounts of personal connections. But I was struck by the absence of the individuals themselves. We were hearing the stories of their allies, but were these the stories that they themselves would want to tell?
Later, I visited a wonderful exhibition about displacement. It showcased powerful artworks dating back to the Spanish civil war. The curator drew attention to one disturbing charcoal sketch of refugees. It risked dehumanising them, she said, by presenting them as a faceless mass. What would displaced people themselves think? We don’t know, because nobody had thought to ask.
How do people feel about being seen as vulnerable victims? What do they think about the programmes we run, which we are certain are vital to their survival? What do they want us to do? Have we asked?
As I have been considering this, I have been reading through Quaker responses to the situation in Palestine. Strong statements and letters have been written in our name. For years now, the letters page in this magazine has provided contrasting views about whether criticism of Israel is de facto antisemitism. Elsewhere in the Friend recently, Keith Braithwaite suggested that perhaps war crimes are not something we should focus on, since all war is a violation (‘Hold your peace’, 21 February). He says we shouldn’t qualify arguments with a ‘but’. The inferences are clear: we need to question our ‘progressive’ stance on, say, settler colonialism, on self determination, and on any ideas that Hamas might be an evolving, complex, multifaceted organisation. For me, a ‘but’ in this context is acceptable. More recently, we are told that to invite a leading campaigner and politician to give the Salter Lecture as part of Yearly Meeting would be to risk accusations of antisemitism and damage Friends’ reputation (see News).
Do you notice any absent voices here?
I will leave the final words to Isaac Munther, a pastor from Bethlehem. Astonishingly, no Quaker outlets publicised his Christmas sermon ‘Christ under the Rubble’, nor covered his visit to London in February, apart from a link in a recent newsletter to one minute of a candlelit vigil. Perhaps his words are too dangerous for Friends to hear, because they challenge our comfortable thinking that as Quakers we are principled, impartial, and peaceloving. And that this stance is enough, quite enough, to prove how much we are suffering on behalf of others.
This is not about ‘praying for peace’, ‘raising concern’, or ‘sending support’. Piety, religiosity, true spirituality means active participation in loosing the bonds of injustice, letting the oppressed go free, and breaking every yoke. This is active solidarity, this is action.
