Dreaming of peace for this new year

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 03/01/2025 (447 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

During a recent church Christmas concert I was approached by an older friend, a retired pastor, who piqued my interest with a wild dream that he had been harbouring, the prospect of a moratorium on war. After the concert we agreed to meet to think together about his “improbable fantasy” (my words).

He shared with me how the war in Ukraine brought back horrible recollections of the brutality that his own family had endured at the hands of Russian authorities. He confessed that he shed tears inside when he thought about both the past persecutions and the present sufferings of his and others’ families in Ukraine. We wondered together, “Is war inevitable or necessary?”

Then he reminded me of accounts of truces wherein opposing troops agreed to play a football game between the trenches during what is known as the First World War. Multiple photos showing fraternization between so-called enemies have been authenticated, implying that the seemingly impossible can occur. If a temporary pause, or improbable ceasefire, is possible, then can we harbour hopes for a more lasting peace?

Although not directly, the role of God in times of war came up as we somehow stumbled on our mutual regard for Simone Weil. One of the most renowned philosophers of the 20th century, she died at the age of 34 in 1943, the midst of the Second World War. Of Jewish origin, she converted to Catholicism and became increasingly religious throughout her short life.

One of her most controversial theological assertions, as I understand it, was that when Christ was born, a vengeful God no longer intervened the same way in human affairs by destroying God’s and Israel’s enemies in violent wars. In her view, God gave up power, meaning a greater free will, greater self-determination with greater discretion. From that point on, humans were left to figure problems and relationships out for themselves following Christ’s lead.

Hannah Arendt, a contemporary of Weil’s (although they never met) came to a similar conclusion from a different perspective. Arendt was a secular Jew, a humanist who wrote, “The decisive difference between the ‘infinite improbabilities’ on which the reality of our earthly life rests and the miraculous character inherent in those events which establish historical reality is that, in the realm of human affairs, we know the author(s) of the ‘miracles.’ It is (humans) who perform them — (humans) who because they have received the twofold gift of freedom and action can establish a reality of their own.”

In Weil’s and Arendt’s views, humankind — because of unwillingness to face its own frailties — is responsible for creating its own sordid history. Human beings have the right, the capacities of skills and judgment, and the responsibility to answer for our own actions and their consequences. We cannot pin our blame on God. They both acknowledged that humans do not control everything, but while there are mysterious forces at work in our lives, we can author miracles, or achieve the improbable, because we are free to initiate historical changes.

But we also can’t pin our hopes on those who think that, because of their elevated political positions, they are above the law, and beyond ethical boundaries or moral conscience. There will always be those who justify dehumanizing, demonizing and brutalizing those who do not agree with them, or get in the way of their totalitarian or imperialistic inclinations.

Nevertheless, if we accept the contention even on a minimal level that we are co-creators of history, our dream of a three-year moratorium on war seems possible even while it remains implausible. Realistically, a pause on waging wars would not take much adaptation for most of us, particularly those of us lucky enough to be born in the West whose daily lives are mostly untouched by war’s horrors.

Our political leaders and governments would be most greatly impacted, as they would have to find new ways of resolving differences, disputes and conflicts rather than the current default of declaring and waging wars of various kinds.

We dreamt together of all the possibilities if all the political efforts and financial resources that currently are devoted to making and supporting wars were channelled more constructively. What if we sought to eliminate the military industrial complex, the weapons production and armaments trade and the feeding of ordinary people’s lives to an insatiable war machine? Calculations by a multitude of humanitarian groups project that if the money committed to making and sustaining wars was used to feed people and build housing, schools and hospitals we could wipe out world hunger, shelter everyone, educate all children and wipe out diseases which now kill tens of thousands worldwide.

A moratorium on war would also require reconceptualizing the power imbalances in the current UN that prevent effective diplomatic intervention in conflicts. What would not be required are major revisions to current declarations and conventions on the rights of all people to live in a world free of fear, want and discrimination. Would that we could create a way of ensuring that these commitments be honoured by those who signed on to them.

Granted, a three-year moratorium on war is hard to imagine, even more difficult to achieve and sustain. Weil and Arendt also remind us that human achievements are fleeting, and they must be continuously and repeatedly nurtured and re-created to withstand the march of time. Moratoriums, much like families, religions, education and democracy, require ongoing re-examination, support and renewal. If they become too mundane, too taken-for-granted or their reasons and purposes forgotten, they will disappear.

Nevertheless, in spite of the monumental, seemingly insurmountable, challenges a moratorium would demand, would it not be a wonderful and encouraging resolution for 2025 to start us down that road?

John R. Wiens is dean emeritus at the faculty of education, University of Manitoba.