The Wisdom of Nonviolence

Fresno Bee, October 3, 2021

Violence is increasing. Domestic terrorism is rising, including threats against members of Congress. The FBI just published its annual report on crime. The bad news is that violent crime is on the rise.

So let’s reflect on the dumbness of violence. Violence produces bad outcomes. It is also dumb in a metaphorical sense. Violence does not speak, it growls. Like a roaring lion, it does not argue. It merely threatens and attacks.

Violence can be spectacular. It attracts our attention. But violence does not really seek to persuade. Persuasion requires an argument. Violent acts are not arguments. That’s why violence does not create or convert.

The ugly truth about violence is well-known. Gandhi explained it. So did Martin Luther King, Jr. Both advocated nonviolence as the higher road.

Oct. 2 marks Gandhi’s birthday and is an International Day of Nonviolence. Gandhi said that even when violence appears to do good, that is merely temporary. Nonviolence creates lasting change because, as Gandhi explained, nonviolence is a “process of conversion.” Instead of destroying those you hate, nonviolence builds bridges and finds common ground.

Gandhi demonstrated that organized nonviolence can be a powerful force for change. Martin Luther King Jr. put this method to work in the United States.

In his Nobel Peace Prize lecture in 1964, King explained the critique of violence this way: “In spite of temporary victories, violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated ones. Violence is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for all.”

This truth is reaffirmed as we reflect on the aftermath of the war on terrorism. After 20 years of war, we wonder whether the war was worth the cost. The war in Afghanistan teaches us that violence is a blunt instrument for transforming hearts and minds.

The “Costs of War” project at Brown University provides a recent summary. Totaling deaths from Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, and elsewhere, they estimate that almost 930,000 people were killed in the war on terrorism. This includes over 7,000 American military personnel. About 38 million people were displaced as war refugees. The war is estimated to have cost $8 trillion.

We did kill Osama bin Laden and other terrorist masterminds. But terrorists still lurk in the shadows. And the Taliban quickly returned to power. The war did not resolve the social, political, and cultural problems that give rise to terrorism and oppressive regimes such as the Taliban.

War is a destructive force that breeds reactive antagonism. It does not educate, democratize, or humanize. Political violence does not create just or lasting change. Rather, it destabilizes and provokes, causing polarization and pain.

This truth about war and violence is easily overlooked. There is a primal urge to employ violence. We are animals after all. Like the lion, we roar. When pushed, we attack.

The world’s moral traditions teach us to subdue the lion within. We are not merely animals, after all. We are human beings. We can learn to “turn the other cheek” and resist animal aggression. This is the message of Jesus and the Buddha, as well as Gandhi and King.

Our own culture often ignores this message. We celebrate violence. Pop culture is full of gangsters and cops, super-spies and superheroes. Our culture encourages us to falsely believe that might makes right and that in the end the good guys are justified in using violence.

But we are not superheroes. We are fragile and flawed beings. And unlike in a James Bond fantasy, real lives are destroyed when we uncage the lion.

The good news is that we are intelligent beings. We can learn from our mistakes. Violence involves a kind of smug self-certainty. It fails because it treats other human beings as animals and objects to be manipulated by physical force. But human beings are not persuaded by violence. We are motivated by pride and love, reason and morality.

Nonviolence is not always effective. But in the long run it is wiser to keep the lion in his cage. Nonviolence appeals to the better angels of our nature. It treats human beings with the care and respect we deserve.

Recent Nobel winners echo King’s wise words

Recent Nobel winners echo King’s wise words

Fresno Bee, January 14, 2012

Martin Luther King was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964.  In December of 2011, the Peace Prize was awarded to three women: Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, the President of Liberia; Leyma Gbowee, a peace activist from Liberia; and Tawakkol Karman, a leader of the Yemeni version of the Arab Spring.  These women represent the power of women’s movements for peace in Africa and the Middle East.  In their Nobel Prize speeches, they each cited Martin Luther King as a source of hope and inspiration.

Gbowee’s speech recounted the terror of war in Liberia, which included rape and sexual abuse.  Despite the horrors she had witnessed, she remained hopeful that nonviolence can improve things.  She quoted King’s words: “Violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem; it merely creates new and more complicated ones.”

Sirleaf spoke of the need for continued expansion of democracy and women’s rights.  She said, “I urge my sisters, and my brothers, not to be afraid. Be not afraid to denounce injustice, though you may be outnumbered. Be not afraid to seek peace, even if your voice may be small. Be not afraid to demand peace.”  And she cited King’s optimistic idea that “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

Karman is the youngest person, and the first Arab woman, to be awarded the Peace Prize.  In her speech she said that King’s idea of “the art of living in harmony” remains the most important thing we need to master. She expressed her hope as follow: “Mankind’s feeling of responsibility to create a decent life and make it worth living with dignity has always been stronger than the will to kill life. Despite great battles, the survival of the human race is the clearest expression of mankind’s yearning for reconstruction, not for destruction, for progress, not for regression and death.” Despite obstacles in Yemen and elsewhere, she foresees  “a humane, prosperous and generous history full of love and fraternity.”

The spirit of hope in the face of violence and injustice is central to King’s message.  In his last sermon in Memphis on April 3, 1968, he acknowledged the threats against him.  But he explained that the struggle for justice was more important than his own life.  King concluded: “Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will.”  He was killed the next day at age 39.

In that last sermon, he explained how moral courage works by retelling the story of the Good Samaritan.  In Jesus’ original parable, two people—a priest and a Levite—walk past a wounded man on the road to Jericho.  Only the Samaritan stops and helps.

King suggests that the first two men were too afraid to stop.  The road to Jericho was dangerous—a prime place to be ambushed.  The priest and the Levite may have been concerned about their own safety, possibly worrying that the injured man was faking it in order to take advantage.

King explains that they may have thought, “If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?”  But the Samaritan reversed the question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?”

This reversal is the key.  When we stop asking, “what will happen to me?” and start asking, “what will happen to him?” our perspective is changed. Suspicion is replaced by care.  Fear is transformed into hope.  And self-interest becomes compassion.

It is hazardous to help others and to speak out against injustice.  Evil dictators crush resistance; and bad guys do take advantage.  But people who risk doing good, tend to experience the world in a hopeful, optimistic way.

In his own Nobel Prize speech, King admitted that “those who pioneer in the struggle for peace and freedom will still face uncomfortable jail terms and painful threats of death.”  But in the end King says that it is possible to see “a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of despair.”  The fact that this message is being shared in places like Yemen and Liberia is good reason to remain hopeful.