“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
– Martin Luther King, Jr.
When unjust events happen, this quote is often evoked as a narrative changer, a hope giver. It was one of Barack Obama’s favorites. I’ve heard a similar sentiment from the older folks in my life, too. “As bad as things seem, they used to be so much worse.”
Things are getting better.
I thought I’d never see the day when same-sex couples could be married under USA law. Then it happened. I once told a political science professor colleague that I thought the first non-white-male USA president would be a Republican since that’s what it would take to get a sizable crossover vote. He disagreed, “Our primary system wouldn’t allow it; we’ll never see a non-white-male US president, not in our lifetimes.” Then it happened, though Obama was a Democrat. US laws used to prohibit couples of different races from getting married. Now they can. In my lifetime it used to be legal for husbands to rape their wives. Not anymore. Civil Rights leaders and the politicians who supported them used to get assassinated in public places. Nothing like that has happened in my lifetime. Wikipedia says the last lynching in the US was in 1981. Work places look more diverse than they were just decades earlier.
Things are getting better.
And things are getting worse. Much worse.
In the USA, mass school and public shootings are a regular occurrence; many of those attacks are motivated by hate. Unarmed black citizens are being killed by local authorities who aren’t held accountable. Hate crimes are on the rise. Hate groups hold rallies and recruit in broad daylight (the KKK was in my community this month). The wealth gap is increasing; poverty is increasing. Our national discourse is increasingly divisive. Even families are severing on ideological grounds. I could go on.
Things are getting better AND they are getting worse. Both are true. A paradox.
I recently spent a week in Caux, Switzerland for an international conference called Toward an Inclusive 
Peace, also known as TIP. The theme this year was “preventing violent extremism.” On the topic of violent extremism, I knew I would learn plenty and wondered if I would have much to add to the conversation. I’m a professional communicator. I teach communication studies (interpersonal, intercultural, facilitation, small group, and leadership) at the college level and I’ve had some success being a facilitator for hire. I help community groups engage in difficult conversations. I knew I could offer nuanced communication skills as my strength but knew I had much to learn about global dynamics.
The meeting took place in Caux Palace on the top of a mountain overlooking Lake Geneva, nestled between the Swiss and French Alps — a near literal palace in the sky. The palace was built in 1902 with the purpose of being a hotel for the world’s royalty, so it’s quite fancy. Magical, really. These days the palace is owned and operated by Initiatives of Change, an international organization dedicated to building trust across the world’s divides.
Due in part to its central-to-many location, TIP was the most international meeting I’ve attended in both representation and process. Every continent was represented, some more than others. The meeting was mostly conducted in English and French. Interpreters were available via headphones and “whisper interpretation.” A graphic recorder was on hand to take notes of the preceding on large visual displays. Silent time and small group reflection were built into the schedule. Each day had a scheduled coffee and tea time. Meals were unstructured. Breaks between sessions were at least 30 minutes.
I met people from countries immersed in conflict: Palestine, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Syria, Ukraine, Uganda…I could go on. I heard first-hand experiences of violent extremism — bombs, shootings, acid splashes. I could feel heat coming from the eyes of some participants as they told me of their frustration with USA foreign policy and how its directly and negatively impacting their lives, or maybe that heat was coming from me. I felt shame, embarrassment, and even a bubbling feeling of defensiveness, similar to what many white US Americans¹ feel when they are called a racist, “I didn’t do it!”
I challenged myself to stay engaged with the stories of folks from less stable governments, to stay connected enough to identify with their position. In doing so I saw that the USA is on a similar road toward more violent extremism.
A person from Uganda told me that their leader has been in power for 33 years. That years ago when he came up against term limits, he extended them. When he came up against an age restriction, he removed it. “Sure it’s a democracy, but it’s theater.” I responded, “I fear that’s where we are headed.” “Oh no,” she responded as she shook her head, “the US democracy is too stable for that. This will pass. Trump cannot undo the democracy.” “I hope you are right.”
A person from Ukraine explained her country’s current climate, “When we fight, Putin smiles” and that certainly sounded like something a US American would say. I kept feeling hit over the head with the idea that US Americans deal with violent extremism more often that we realize. Less socially powerful communities feel it imminently, but likely don’t call it “violent extremism.” To the extent that US Americans do not feel immersed in violent extremism is the extent to which we are better positioned to prevent further violent extremism.
I learned at this meeting that I am a peacebuilder. “Peacebuilder” is an international identity that I’m only now realizing. In the USA I would have said “I’m a trustbuilder” or a “change maker.” Peace does not mean the absence of war. Peace means that everyone’s basic needs get met, not just our physical survival needs, but also our needs to become safe, loved, and self-actualized. When people are not free to become, there is no peace.
A team from the Ukraine offered a framework for understanding four different approaches to achieving peace. The power based approach tries to instill peace by forcing it with military tactics (i.e., war). The human rights based path engages activism and protests to bring awareness to unmet human needs. The “law fare” based approach advocates for new laws and enforcing existing ones. Finally, the interest based path uses peacebuilders to discover and honor conflicting groups’ deepest human needs. As it was explained to me there’s a difference between peacebuilders and activists. Generally speaking, activists are engaged with the political process and usually advocate for the success of a candidate or party. Activists can disrupt the peace to draw attention to inequities. I learned from serious peacebuilders in Iran that they do not affiliate themselves with a party or the current government. They aim to be approachable for anyone, and they stand hard on their insistence for peace.
The power based approach simply does not work. At best it can delay a conflict. At it’s worst it can attempt to obliterate an entire population of humans deemed as the troublemakers, thus creating trauma for any survivors and to some extent also for the perpetrators. Both will pass this trauma down to their descendants through DNA (see Dora Costa and colleagues’ research) and the conflict will continue. Such seems the historical trajectory of the USA.
The best approach to peace is the remaining three as an ensemble. We need equal parts of human rights activism, law fare, and peacebuilding. We need them all. Making institutions more equitable through laws is important, but we cannot leave “hearts and minds” behind. They must come along as well.
The key tool in every peacebuilder’s toolkit around the world is dialogue. Engaging in the type of conversation that stays focused on personal experiences (dialogue), rather than facts or opinions (debate or discussion), keeps us focused on our mutual humanity. Keeping citizens engaged in sustained and prolonged dialogue is a KEY strategy for preventing violent extremism. Peacebuilders offer opportunities and spaces where this can happen. And it’s critical that peacebuilders engage in difficult dialogue themselves. If we can see each other as humans, peace is achievable.
After meeting people from around the world who are deeply engaged in community conflict, I see that the world is on an arc toward violent extremism. Western nations, including the USA, are no exception. While acid splashes and bombings at public events are not a daily concern in the USA, violence and treats of violence fueled by extremist ideology are.
This is my plea to US Americans. We must stay engaged in dialogue with fellow Americans, even the folks we see as idiots, especially them. If you catch yourself saying any of these things, you are creating space for violent extremism.
- “Forget them.”
- “You can’t reason with stupid.”
- “I’ll just cut that part of the family out. No loss.”
- “We’ll just outnumber them.”
- “Their views are old fashioned, they’ll just die out.”
- “Let’s just sue them into submission.”
Anyone can be a peacebuilder. There is no special qualification. Tell your stories, your life experience, and keep your focus there. Don’t give away your vulnerability freely, though. Form authentic relationships and share from that place. Make ideologically diverse friends. Learn others’ stories and have patience with their vulnerability, too. Genuine connections are opportunities to keep each others’ humanity visible. If you can see theirs, they are more likely to see yours.
To hold hope, motivation, and sanity, tell yourselves that the arc of the moral universe is moving toward justice, because this is true. However, to prevent violent extremism, and we must, remind yourself that the arc is moving toward violent extremism, because this is also true.
¹ I use the seemingly redundant term “US American” to be consistent with other authors who write about world cultures. Globally speaking, “America” is considered to be a continent, and not a country.