Protest, democracy, and leading with love
If we stand together, we will create a more peaceful future. If we turn on one another, or turn away from one another, we lose our chance to be part of the solution.
This week, our faculty union received a request to sign on to an open letter about protecting free speech and academic freedom on college campuses. It has generated a difficult and thoughtful conversation among many faculty, given the volatility of the situation and the nuances of the message.
Our regional state-supported campus has seen relatively small, completely safe and nonviolent demonstrations about the war in Gaza and the attack on Israel. Last fall, our president and provost issued their (so far) one and only statement, a brief and not too specific defense of the right to speak out and a strong support of peace and nonviolence.
As I’ve learned about the protests on other campuses, and the different responses by campus and police authorities, I’ve felt overwhelmed by the challenge of sorting out all the viewpoints, ethical and moral implications, and personal resonances. At high risk of oversimplifying, I keep returning to these core principles.
Violence is evidence of failure, failure to understand, to act, to commit to peace. It is never a solution.
Protest is essential in a thriving democracy. Silencing voices is rarely part of a solution. If voices call for violence, threaten the safety of others, vigorous response is necessary. When voices share opinions that might be despicable or dehumanizing, our best response is to drown them out with voices of peace, inclusion, and compassion.
Listening is one of our most powerful tools to find resolution. Putting some limited conditions on our listening might, at times, be essential: in the midst of violence or threats, we insist the violence and threats stop first. And then we listen, again, and deeply.
I know that the line between expressing an opinion and issuing a threat or call to violence is not always clear. But when it is, we must always stand on the side of protecting the vulnerable, and protecting free speech. I know that protests, especially long term ones, with encampments and occupations, become messy and difficult to manage. But mess is not a valid reason for a violent response by administrators or law enforcement.
None of this is easy. Our own silence, as educators and leaders, no matter how tempting, is not part of the vital discourse necessary to find peaceful resolutions. In Gaza, in Ukraine, in too many parts of the world, our fellow humans struggle in desperate conditions caused by war and violence. We must stand with all of the vulnerable, against all dehumanization that is the precondition to war and violence.
Note: here is a summary of a conversation Robert Reich had with students a few months ago, and the resulting moral principles they were able to agree on. It’s worth reading:
If we stand together, we will create a more peaceful future. If we turn on one another, or turn away from one another, we lose our chance to be part of the solution.
Be safe and well, always stand for peace, always listen with compassion, always work for justice, always lead with love.