Sowing the seeds of peace

Given the abundant community input in the Free Press Letters to the Editor section and Think Tank articles regarding the Canadian Museum for Human Rights’ Palestine Uprooted: Nakba Past and Present exhibition, I have been disinclined to add my own. My thoughts and feelings have been well-represented in these submissions.

A visit with a recent refugee from Palestine prompted me to reconsider. We did not meet to talk about the Palestinian-Israeli war. We met because our two families have had the pleasure of each other’s company and want to continue developing this new friendship.

I knew that this man had attended a meeting with an interfaith group in Winnipeg working to promote peace and justice in the Middle East while building bridges of solidarity and friendship between Jews, Palestinians and their allies here in Winnipeg. So, I asked him about his experience at the meeting.

This is what he said:

That he wants his children and Jewish Israeli children to live in peace and free from trauma; that he is searching for ways to contribute to that dream.

And my heart leapt to my throat. I told him I didn’t know how he could say that — not now — and that I doubt very much that I could have done the same in his circumstances.

I’ve been thinking about this small conversation and how it might connect to the public debate on the CMHR’s exhibition — the words used to frame it — the arguments brought forth to either denounce or support it.

And I believe it does connect to this debate in particular, and to media coverage of the war in Palestine-Israel in general.

In fact the conversation clarified for me what’s missing from the coverage.

To my mind, far too much of the coverage slides into “an Olympics of suffering.” (How dare Palestinians tell their story of suffering without referencing Jewish suffering; how dare Jews express their grief at the loss of innocent civilian lives on Oct. 7, 2023 in the face of the genocide in Gaza.)

It also seems to me that, far too often, the coverage slides into “an Olympics of purity” — a denunciation of all voices that don’t call for a complete dismantling of the colonial-military-industrial-media-academic complex; a denunciation of all voices that don’t fully and unequivocally support Israel’s right to kill and displace Palestinian people in the name of “security” and “the right to exist.”

And the divide grows deeper and deeper.

What’s missing from the conversation are exceptions to these all-or-none stories. What’s missing are stories about the sustained efforts of 60-plus peace groups in Palestine-Israel where Palestinians, Arab Israelis, and Jewish Israelis join together in solidarity; where, in the face of all the horror and against all odds, people commit to collectively engage in the Herculean and dangerous work of change. Surely that’s worth media coverage.

What’s often missing from investigative journalism are the stories told by members of our families, neighbours and friends — stories that replace the “story of war” as unavoidable, necessary, justifiable and indeed heroic with the “story of peace” that reflects a hunger for justice, human dignity, ecological healing and reconciled relationships.

What’s often missing are stories that make visible the details of the lives of real people; stories that change hearts and minds in ways that facts, analysis and debate cannot.

Of course stories of peace and justice exist; they can be found in the work of artists who speak through the languages of photography, film, poetry, novels, memoirs, music and museum-curated exhibits.

These stories are everywhere, not just in galleries, bookstores, theatres and museums. They are being told through the art produced in our schools and seniors’ residences. They are being told around our kitchen tables, at family and neighbourhood gatherings, and in our places of worship — in other words, through all our creative expressions.

I believe that if we are to fully respond to what has been called by some peace activists an “imaginative crisis” we must extend our coverage of the war in Israel-Palestine and of the “proxy war” here in North America to include the counter-stories of peace and justice. For it is our imaginative creations that, for better or worse, become embedded in our culture and shape and reinforce our material reality.

Let’s go for better. Not the Pollyanna “let’s all be glad” stories. Not stories of utopian visions. But stories that are the seeds of a just peace that already have been sown. We need to feed and water these seeds if there is to be any hope that my friend’s dream for his children — for all children — will be realized one day.

Frances Ravinsky is a co-founder of Community Works Manitoba. She facilitates art-based storytelling workshops where community members tell significant stories from their own lives.