It has been a fascinating experience navigating the concept of nonviolence with respect to direct action. This piece will explore nonviolence and examine its relevance and application to activism for social and ecological justice. We must define what “violence” means in order to understand the implication of its absence. The World Health Organization defines violence as "the intentional use of physical force or power, threatened or actual, against oneself, another person, or against a group or community, that either results in or has a high likelihood of resulting in injury, death, psychological harm, maldevelopment, or deprivation”.1 John Gaultung adds structural and cultural violence.2 Structural capitalism, colonialism and heteropatriarchy threatens the ability of humans, other species, and ecosystems to meet fundamental needs. Although violence can be inflicted deliberately to another (whether human, animal, plant or environment), harm can also be caused unintentionally, or through an act of omission. As parents tell their children, regardless of intent, we must accept responsibility for our actions or lack thereof (which speaks to consequentialist ethics).3 There are myriad ways in which we all do harm in this world, whether choosing to drive our car when we could walk; choosing to patronize a financial institution that actively invests in pipelines; choosing to remain uninformed on issues of systemic privilege and power because we think it doesn’t affect us (or that we are not complicit). Martin Luther King Jr. and defined six key principles of nonviolence; these will be used to frame this piece.4 Nonviolence is a way of life for courageous people. It is active nonviolent resistance to evil. It is aggressive spiritually, mentally and emotionally. Although the term “non-violence” implies a passive (but presumably mindful) choice to not inflict harm, non-violent resistance to the status quo is anything but passive. If we equate non-violence with peace, the current Dalai Lama has been quoted as saying, “Peace is not just a mere absence of violence. Peace is … the manifestation of human compassion.” King wrote that nonviolence is “a courageous confrontation of evil by the power of love.”5 As such, non-violence can and must also be enacted through thoughtful acts of omission and commission. 6 Far from being passive, non-violence is a strategic and deliberate approach to reducing the power of a dominant and unjust group; the withdrawal of “support and obedience from the opponents”. Thoreau speaks to this in his essay Civil disobedience,7 which also evokes the concept of Overton’s window:8 the actions of citizens ultimately create the policy of governments. Thoreau advocated for all men (sic) to make it clear what he would support through tangible actions. He recommended strategies of social non-cooperation guided by one’s moral compass, including withholding tax dollars from a government that used them to support “atrocities'' such as warfare, climate destruction, etc. Nonviolence has been framed as analogous to jiu jitsu, a martial art in which one uses the opposer's (ie. the system’s) force against them.9 Although many heroes of non-violent resistance have been rooted in a religious ethos, the choice of nonviolent action as a tactic of resistance does not require a religious or spiritual mindset.10 It may be used for purely logical and strategic reasons; King himself described nonviolence as both a moral and practical strategy.11 Nonviolence seeks to win friendship and understanding. The end result of nonviolence is redemption and reconciliation. The purpose of nonviolence is the creation of the Beloved Community. Although I am an avowed pacifist, I can't say that I am always compassionate and peaceful in my heart. I rage internally and sometimes externally due to my judgement of others. Anecdote: Recently during time spent with a close family member, we wander into tricky territory where our different perspectives on the role of divinity, capitalism and settler colonialism clashed with respect to strategies of Reconciliation and the climate crisis. Although my kin prefers to set aside the conflict to preserve the relationship, I continue to stew, feeling that attitudes like theirs were why I couldn’t rest with my efforts of advocacy - I have to work to counter their effects. Anecdote: In my faith community where we affirm that we are part of the web of all existence, I find myself unexpectedly engaged in conversation with a middle-aged white man about whether I “really think the climate crisis is real.” Who tells me - warmly - that I romanticize Indigenous culture. Who asks if I’ve “actually read the science” or if I just believe what I read in the media. Who perks up when I tell him that yes I’ve read the science; I’m a doctor who reads academic papers all the time. He says, “Oh! You’re a doctor? What kind?” then appears to lose interest or respect when I tell him I am a naturopath. Anecdote: At a community divestment workshop where we are asked to discuss with our immediate neighbours strategies for organizing a divestment campaign, a woman in my group refuses to consider that anything but science will solve the climate crisis. She also tells me I’m not a real scientist and only “sort of” a professor because I don’t have a PhD. She was completely unwilling to consider anything I - or anyone else in the group - might have to contribute. All of these scenarios elicited rage in me because I felt judged, and found myself judging the other person. I wonder what would have happened if I had been able to conjure compassion and curiosity. What would have happened if I had been able to set aside my ego; to catch the rising ire and shame, practice deep humility, and seek common ground. I wonder if the needle might have been nudged in a healthier direction. This also makes me think about homophily - the phenomenon of being drawn toward someone who shares our perspective/philosophy/methods. Avoiding people with dissenting perspectives is unlikely to have a constructive impact on our collective experience. I have received teachings on strategies of nonviolent communication which aims to identify “commonalities and differences and find ways to make life wonderful for all of us”.12 Although it is very challenging to apply those skills with grace when experiencing anger due to perceived injustice, they are perfect opportunities to use to deeply listen and build relationships. In his “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” King distinguished between, “a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice.”13 He wrote of the importance of deliberately creating constructive, nonviolent tension in order to “help [people] rise from the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood [& sisterhood].”13 Creating tension (rather than avoiding it) by amplifying the messages of justice and compassion may support a cultural shift.14 Nonviolence seeks to defeat injustice not people. Nonviolence recognizes that evildoers are also victims. What constitutes violence will always be in the eye of the beholder. Ben-Abba, an Israeli writer and dissident, writes that, “the state can define anything which challenges its power as violent, whether it involves protesters linking arms or consumers calling for boycott, [which has been termed] “economic terrorism”.15 Dissent and nonviolent resistance against capitalistic, extractive, capatalistic systems have been labelled with language such as “extremism” and “terrorism.”16 The tendency of the state to define an action as violent is more likely to evoke attempts at repression in an effort to maintain the status quo.17 The Montgomery bus boycott18 and many of Gandhi’s tactics were framed as violence against the state,19 as have more recent actions by climate activists such as those who organize as Extinction Rebellion.16 Some activists are willing and able to pay the price for acting non-violently in alignment with their moral compass; however, for others the price is too great - and the price is inequitably distributed. A white person arrested or withholding taxes in the name of ecological or social justice is less likely to experience physical or legal harm. Often these are people who do not have an existing criminal record - except for other arrests associated with activism - and have the privilege (typically unearned) of having the financial, social or political capital which enables them to mitigate consequences. A Black, Indigenous, or other Person of Colour (BIPOC), on the other hand, is far more likely to be mistreated and suffer harm, lack access to effective legal support, have a precarious job or living situation, and is more likely to be convicted and incarcerated.2021 Labelling movements as terrorism stigmatizes BIPOC communities’ efforts to reclaim power and sovreignty.222324 Legal conditions placed on even non-violent activists continue to oppress the efforts to seek justice for marginalised communities in the form of restricting completely legal free speech or action in support of the issues against which a protester took action;25 it has been argued that this infringes upon an individual's Charter Rights, and runs counter to encouraging dissent in a democratic society.26 There is a complex dynamic between law and ethics,27 however, and there are innumerable precedents of laws that were unjust and subsequently changed.28 Most activists recognize that non-violent direct action and civil disobedience are ideally part of a spectrum of approaches that should include not only resistance to unjust social structure, but an attempt to change it through legal avenues.29 Nonviolent civil disobedience has been framed as a moral obligation in the face of an unjust system.30,31 King himself wrote, “One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws.”13 Within climate activism - which is inherently interwoven with social justice activism and the organization of Indigenous land defenders - the defence of necessity has been used.32 Some tactics of skirting and changing unjust laws are very creative; “Women on Waves”33 is a Dutch charity that provides “contraceptives, information, training, workshops, and safe and legal abortion services outside territorial waters in countries where abortion is illegal. In international waters the local laws do not apply.” This organization also works with local advocacy groups to highlight the harmful impacts of unwanted pregnancy and unsafe abortions, and to advocate for legal change. Most advocates of nonviolent action are clear about targeting toxic and unjust systems as opposed to individuals who are complicit in their perpetuation (although as Thoreau points out, individuals are the ones who ultimately pull the trigger or sign the document7). Ultimately, individuals are manifestations of their environment; if we address a toxic system through an ethos of compassion - even if flanked by less overtly peaceful actions - we likely have a better chance of revolution. Holding ground nonviolently in the face of aggressive action often highlights the ridiculousness of the approach. Nonviolence accepts suffering without retaliation. Unearned suffering is redemptive and has tremendous educational and transforming possibilities. This principle is challenging in light of recent uprisings against social injustice. It seems as though King is advocating for a “turn the other cheek” acceptance of unearned oppression; however, he also emphasized that nonviolence is “a courageous confrontation of evil by the power of love,”5 and did not condemn riots as an expression of frustration.34 We know that action is motivated by suffering; however suffering is also a direct and significant barrier to both activism and nonviolence.35 Gederloos argues that a doctrine of nonviolence in fact benefits those with power.36 Many who benefit from and are complicit in perpetuating injustice are unaware of the ways in which we all suffer from current dominant systems. It is easy to turn away from or outright deny others’ suffering because it doesn’t seem to affect us. While principles of non-violence do not support shaming individuals for their financial investment strategies (for example), certain tactics of direct action aim precisely to educate and mobilize previously uninformed or unaware individuals to take tangible action. Collective action - particularly by those who hold power and privilege - is likely the only way to revolutionize the systems. I ask all those who contribute to and benefit from our unjust financial/social/political/ecological systems (ie. all of us to varying degrees) in what way they are contributing to harm through acts of omission or commission. Nonviolence chooses love instead of hate. Nonviolence resists violence of the spirit as well as the body. Nonviolent love is spontaneous, unmotivated, unselfish and creative. Although nonviolence is often espoused as a strategic choice, it is often rooted in a “love ethos.”37 Jesus was the radical activist to whom I have been most exposed throughout my life. I often wonder “what would Jesus do?” - his many examples of radical love towards the marginalized, his unwillingness to play by the unjust rules of society at the time, and his bottom line message of loving each other are deeply inspiring. bell hooks reminds us that Jesus did not try to start a religion; he was trying to instigate a revolution of love, sovereignty, and spiritual practice, one that rejected both Jewish and Roman laws.37 As the Dalai Lama said, nonviolence is an extension of loving kindness and compassion. This can only be cultivated from within. By extending loving kindness to ourselves, by fostering a humility that allows us to be willing to sit with our own suffering, we nurture a capacity to sit with others’ suffering as well (the definition of empathy - from Greek empatheia (from em- ‘in’ + pathos ‘feeling’; compassion - to suffer together). This then allows us to more clearly see our role and responsibility in the suffering of others, and inspires an intrinsic motivation to act from that compassion.38 Nonviolence believes that the universe is on the side of justice. The nonviolent resister has deep faith that justice will eventually win. Nonviolence believes that God is a God of justice. It has been argued that non-violent resistance is unlikely to succeed against a systemically violent and unjust system.15 Although many of the great revolutionary leaders who are revered throughout time and place espoused principles of non-violence, arguably many revolutions succeeded because of violent action or the threat of it. Although Gandhi coordinated a non-violent boycott of British goods as a strategy to topple the occupation, he himself identified this as the most effective tactic; had violent means been available to him, perhaps he would have strategized differently. The civil rights movement was flanked by the Black Panthers, who while engaged in acts of radical love in their community were unwilling to stand by when their people were being murdered.39 Recent uprisings against police brutality have been criticized for acts of violence; however, King himself said “a riot is the language of the unheard”.34 Even Marshall Rosenberg, who developed the framework for nonviolent communication, argued that in situations where there is imminent danger, protective force may be necessary “to prevent injury or injustice.”40 Activists for social and ecological justice are responding to and attempting to prevent further (and imminent) structural violence and injury, which may require protective force. This force itself is an act of radical love. King, however, taught that violence would never bring lasting peace;4violence begets violence.41 When movements as a whole are coordinated, organized and nonviolent they are more likely to be resilient in the face of state repression,17 more likely to build a base of support,42 and more likely to perpetuate reinforcing cycles of peace and compassion (figure 1). Anecdote: A new shelter for underhoused individuals recently opened in my neighbourhood to accommodate physical distancing requirements in the system. There is relatively little visible homelessness in the area, and the sudden presence of the shelter created a stir. The neighbourhood quickly divided along a spectrum of allyship, from active/angry NIMBY-ism to deep radical compassion, with a whole range of privileged saviourship and thinly disguised safety concerns in between (figure 2). Many were uninformed on issues related to the intersections between the housing crisis and the opioid crisis, and how the current global pandemic has exacerbated both. Fervent uneducated opinions on the role of harm reduction were spewed on social media. Nasty, personal attacks were flung across the community. Even those who understood that we had an opportunity to come together as a collective to try and actively love our neighbours still had the tendency to “other” “these people” rather than putting all on an equal level (“But for the grace of god go I …”).
My local councillor and shelter staff are seeking support to enable integration of shelter residents into the community while promoting the comfort and safety of existing community members. It strikes me that this is a beautiful opportunity to promote nonviolence as an act of radical compassion and love. Jesus, Gandhi and King are all notable for their fervent advocacy for the marginalized, a perspective that transcends charity to solidarity and love. As hooks writes, love is a radical action that extends human rights to all; “compassion opens the way for individuals to feel empathy for others without judgement. When we judge we are less able to forgive. Compassion and forgiveness reconnect us.”37 By bravely nurturing constructive tension, lovingly seeking opportunities for friendship, and compassionately transforming suffering into growth, there is an opportunity to address and defeat injustice. I will continue to offer my services to my community from the foundation of nonviolence.
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