Waging Peace
When I was five-years-old, my favorite toy was a G.I. Joe, and I had all of the accoutrements that went along with it—the Jeep with anti-aircraft gun attached, the helicopter with missiles that fired and a candy-store assortment of guns and grenades. My mother and father had both served in the military, as had my grandfathers, uncles and cousins. As a child, I was taught to admire these men and women who had given their all to protect the United States from its murderous foes. When my older brother turned 18, he was encouraged to join the military to learn character and discipline. As I approached my 18th birthday, I was likewise courted by the different branches of the armed forces. I chose, instead, to seek peace.
I have yet to meet someone who likes war. I have family members and friends who are currently in the military and they tell me that they are as much against war as I am, and see their mission as peacekeeping. When forced to fight, they will, but their goal is to wield might to prevent the fight.
Most of us want a peaceful world. Given a choice, we would much rather see conflicts resolved before fists fly. We would prefer diplomacy to be exhausted before our sons and daughters set one foot on the battlefield. We would prefer that our neighbors get along rather than shoot it out.
Why, then, do we wage war after war after war? Walter Wink, in his book Engaging the Powers, argues that western culture is deeply committed to what he calls the myth of redemptive violence. According to Wink, we believe that violence, force and coercion, applied appropriately and with the right motives, has the power to bring about social redemption.
So maybe we are, as some argue, violent by nature. Maybe we need war to define who we are. We seem to want peace, but can’t help viewing the world and other people in terms of conquest. Maybe we are pre-wired to see things in terms of winning and losing, having and not having, us versus them, good guys and bad. It would be easier to believe that it’s due to genetics or certain social conditions. How else could we explain, let alone solve, our willingness to tackle conflict violently? A basic review of world history will quickly show that we aren’t the first civilization to try to make things right through the use of force.
Maybe it’s fear, scarcity, selfishness, injustice, a thirst for power, or even a noble desire to protect such ideals as freedom and justice. But, the fact remains that despite our public abhorrence of killing, we too easily justify the use of violence.
Violence isn’t necessarily a product of Lockheed-Martin or the military industrial complex, however. We are prone not only to defend ourselves, but to find an assortment of ways to strike out at others when they make life in any way uncomfortable for us. We threaten, gossip, call the police, sue, divorce, file complaints, rage, kick and scream, and whatever else it takes to keep those we don’t like at a distance.
When we talk about peace, what are we really talking about? Do we really mean that we just want order? As long as our own self-interests are being served, we cry out for “Peace”. We are civil to others as long as they don’t disturb the illusions we live by. As long as no one trespasses on our turf, we are nonviolent. But if we feel threatened, we fight back.
The right thing always seems to be the hardest to do. It’s hard to live consistently, but it is essential if we are to make our world a less violent place. Protesting is one thing, but living in a way that actually counters the very thing we are against is another. In fact, it's useless to protest war if our lives and lifestyles betray our rhetoric. If we’re honest, most of us aren’t very willing to give up the good life we enjoy. Consequently, we keep fueling the very fires of war we wish to extinguish. We want to own what we have, enjoy our creature comforts, maintain our autonomy and modes of mobility, and make sure our bottom line is secure, even when the rest of the world suffers because of it.
Recently I was studying the Kennan doctrine, on which American foreign policy is based. In 1948, George Kennan recognized that having only 6 percent of the world’s population but 50 percent of its wealth meant that the United States could not fail to be the object of envy and resentment. To maintain this disparity would mean to forgo moral ideals and instead deal in straight power concepts. Initially I was dismayed. Then, I began to see why so much of the world resents our materialistic lifestyles. I thought to myself, “We need to redistribute the wealth, but that’s impossible.”
But, is it? The only reason that it’s impossible is because we are unwilling to walk away from rampant consumerism. Sharing property with others in service, and in so doing redistributing wealth, is possible, but only if we are resolved to secure a more peaceful world where millions no longer have to suffer want. And there’s the rub.
If we chose, as a society, to live in a way that made it difficult for others, let alone ourselves, to wage war, we could revolutionize the world. By waging peace instead of war we could remove all that divides and separates us. But, It’s going to take a lot more than protesting. And it must go much further than pacifism. Chanting “No More War!” is useless unless we do away with the causes of war.
If we can somehow build an army committed to waging peace, then we’ll be soldiers in a war that never ends. And our young men will learn lesson’s in character that cannot be learned on a battlefield.
I have yet to meet someone who likes war. I have family members and friends who are currently in the military and they tell me that they are as much against war as I am, and see their mission as peacekeeping. When forced to fight, they will, but their goal is to wield might to prevent the fight.
Most of us want a peaceful world. Given a choice, we would much rather see conflicts resolved before fists fly. We would prefer diplomacy to be exhausted before our sons and daughters set one foot on the battlefield. We would prefer that our neighbors get along rather than shoot it out.
Why, then, do we wage war after war after war? Walter Wink, in his book Engaging the Powers, argues that western culture is deeply committed to what he calls the myth of redemptive violence. According to Wink, we believe that violence, force and coercion, applied appropriately and with the right motives, has the power to bring about social redemption.
So maybe we are, as some argue, violent by nature. Maybe we need war to define who we are. We seem to want peace, but can’t help viewing the world and other people in terms of conquest. Maybe we are pre-wired to see things in terms of winning and losing, having and not having, us versus them, good guys and bad. It would be easier to believe that it’s due to genetics or certain social conditions. How else could we explain, let alone solve, our willingness to tackle conflict violently? A basic review of world history will quickly show that we aren’t the first civilization to try to make things right through the use of force.
Maybe it’s fear, scarcity, selfishness, injustice, a thirst for power, or even a noble desire to protect such ideals as freedom and justice. But, the fact remains that despite our public abhorrence of killing, we too easily justify the use of violence.
Violence isn’t necessarily a product of Lockheed-Martin or the military industrial complex, however. We are prone not only to defend ourselves, but to find an assortment of ways to strike out at others when they make life in any way uncomfortable for us. We threaten, gossip, call the police, sue, divorce, file complaints, rage, kick and scream, and whatever else it takes to keep those we don’t like at a distance.
When we talk about peace, what are we really talking about? Do we really mean that we just want order? As long as our own self-interests are being served, we cry out for “Peace”. We are civil to others as long as they don’t disturb the illusions we live by. As long as no one trespasses on our turf, we are nonviolent. But if we feel threatened, we fight back.
The right thing always seems to be the hardest to do. It’s hard to live consistently, but it is essential if we are to make our world a less violent place. Protesting is one thing, but living in a way that actually counters the very thing we are against is another. In fact, it's useless to protest war if our lives and lifestyles betray our rhetoric. If we’re honest, most of us aren’t very willing to give up the good life we enjoy. Consequently, we keep fueling the very fires of war we wish to extinguish. We want to own what we have, enjoy our creature comforts, maintain our autonomy and modes of mobility, and make sure our bottom line is secure, even when the rest of the world suffers because of it.
Recently I was studying the Kennan doctrine, on which American foreign policy is based. In 1948, George Kennan recognized that having only 6 percent of the world’s population but 50 percent of its wealth meant that the United States could not fail to be the object of envy and resentment. To maintain this disparity would mean to forgo moral ideals and instead deal in straight power concepts. Initially I was dismayed. Then, I began to see why so much of the world resents our materialistic lifestyles. I thought to myself, “We need to redistribute the wealth, but that’s impossible.”
But, is it? The only reason that it’s impossible is because we are unwilling to walk away from rampant consumerism. Sharing property with others in service, and in so doing redistributing wealth, is possible, but only if we are resolved to secure a more peaceful world where millions no longer have to suffer want. And there’s the rub.
If we chose, as a society, to live in a way that made it difficult for others, let alone ourselves, to wage war, we could revolutionize the world. By waging peace instead of war we could remove all that divides and separates us. But, It’s going to take a lot more than protesting. And it must go much further than pacifism. Chanting “No More War!” is useless unless we do away with the causes of war.
If we can somehow build an army committed to waging peace, then we’ll be soldiers in a war that never ends. And our young men will learn lesson’s in character that cannot be learned on a battlefield.
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