Over at openDemocracy, Shelley Anderson has written a nice article that explores why nonviolence – which she beautifully describes as “a continuous and radical struggle to stay human by always recognising the humanity of others” – is not better known. She begins by telling a moving story of nonviolence at work:
The scene: several years ago in a Dublin sidewalk café. Two human rights activists, one African, the other North American, are talking at the next table. I sit at another table, an unrepentant eavesdropper.
“I must tell you this story,” the African lawyer said. “Some women from both sides of the conflict had been secretly talking to each other. A message from the other side was smuggled to the wife of a local military commander. The women learned that her husband has been ordered to attack a nearby village. In the message, the women beg her to stop the attack.
“The wife is in a quandary. How can she stop a military attack? Time is running out. Then she has an idea. She goes to her husband and tells him that she must go shopping the next day in that village. Her husband tries to dissuade her but she insists she must go. She knows the attack is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Her husband is in a panic. He calls off the attack. The women succeeded!”
Most nonviolent success stories are similar to this one, she argues, in that they are not written down because they are “anecdotal, anonymous and above all, ordinary.” Many proponents of nonviolence have made this observation. Gandhi perhaps said it best in Hind Swaraj, which he penned in 1909 on a return voyage from London to South Africa:
The fact that there are so many men still alive in the world shows that it is based not on the force of arms but on the force of truth or love. Therefore, the greatest and most unimpeachable evidence of the success of this force is to be found in the fact that, in spite of the wars in the world, it still lives on.
Thousands, indeed tens of thousands, depend for their existence on a very active working of this force. Little quarrels of millions of families in their lives disappear before the exercise of this force. Hundreds of nations live in peace. History does not and cannot take note of this fact. History is really a record of every interruption of the even working of this force of love or of the soul.
In 2003, UC Berkeley professor and founder of the Metta Center for Nonviolence Michael Nagler explained the dilemma in another way to the SF Weekly:
“It’s difficult to document a war that hasn’t happened,” he says. “You can document bullets and airplanes, but when someone has a change of heart, you can’t document it. You can collect anecdotes and resonate with it, but you can’t make it into a spreadsheet.”
While there is no doubt a lot of truth in this, Anderson argues that we have to make a better effort at recording stories of nonviolence:
The undocumented nature of much nonviolent action helps perpetrate a myth that nonviolence is ineffectual. Anonymity deprives people of necessary role models. The ordinariness of nonviolence makes people blind to all the potential of organised, active nonviolence.
[…]
Documenting and spreading stories, both individual and collective, of active nonviolence are important in empowering people. Nonviolence is not the reserve of saints or specialists with academic degrees in conflict management. Nonviolence is a value, a tool, and a force which ordinary people can and do use daily.
Needless to say, sharing such stories is one of the primary reasons we started this site.
… and your website is a fantastic resource for exactly this reason!
A beautiful piece. It makes me think about these cases of nonviolence, these daily acts that go unnoticed and what I realize is that so many of these are intangible acts, fully understood only internally (and not even always) by the actor and virtually invisible to everyone else. In addition, it is probable that people so sensitive and grounded to act in these ways lack the need to talk (or gloat). Perhaps they even think nothing of the act since it blossoms from their authentic nature. And so, a recounting of the act (which depends on the actor’s verbalization or an equally perceptive observer’s observation) never happens. And yet, these are the acts we must all invisibly internalize.
Here’s a similar story I gained by way of a personal relationship –
Between the late 1980s and 1994, when a (now expired) ceasefire was signed, there was a little known but long war between what started as Soviet Armenians and Soviet Azeris and eventually became the today’s Republic of Armenia and Nagorno Kharabagh (a non-recognized independent Republic) on one side and the Republic of Azerbaijan on the other. While we need not be detained by the causes of conflict and such, there was a period of time when soldiers, on both sides of the war, had begun to build relationships while eating and singing at nights, on respective sides of trenches.
As the story goes, these men eventually began to recognize the humanity of the “other side” and soon came to a mutual agreement that was kept a secret from generals on both sides. During the daytime, while taking tactical orders and such, both sides would rise up and attack eachother. However, neither side would shoot above the ground. The result was an ongoing stalemate, clouds of dirt dust and unlost lives. This continued for some time, bewildering leadership. Of course, once the generals began to realize what was happening, internal punishments ensued. And so it goes.
Predictably, very few on either side today discuss these stories of humanity. Yet, as I tell this story here and there, I am shocked by how often similar stories arise, set free – to breathe, to be, to inspire – sometimes for the first time. These are the stories that can save us all.
Thanks for creating a space for them, Waging Nonviolence.
Telling stories of nonviolence is really important. As the article points out at the end stories are effective means for exploding the various myths that claim nonviolence is ineffectual, unrealistic, utopian and untried.
I try to document stories of nonviolence in my context (Cambodia) and come up against several re-occuring obstacles: I don’t hear about the action; the anecdote is lacking detail; reporting the event may endanger or over-expose current nonviolent activists/actions; there is always something ‘more urgent’ to do than write down a ‘warm and fuzzy’ story.
Obviously there is a mixture of context specific barriers as well as my own complicity with the myth of ineffectual nonviolence.
Just to break my own complicity:
the past two weeks has seen tens of thousands of factory workers take to the streets of Phnom Penh demanding wage rises, despite intense pressure from police and city authorities that such actions are illegal and that they will arrest the union leaders.
Thanks for this article. It’s an encouragement to keep recording.
Thanks so much for sharing your experience Chris. If you’d ever like to share your experiences or stories on this site we would love to help you spread the word.
Do you know Bob Maat? He’s an ex-Jesuit who has been in Cambodia for many years doing peace work. I met him a couple years ago while he was visiting New York and we had a great time together.
Eric, thanks I will do. I’ve never met Bob, but his name is very familiar to me. Thanks.