People Not Governments
As the war in Ukraine turns increasingly brutal, those of us who work for peace need to ask some questions. What have we learned about our capacities to stop the drive toward military solutions to human problems? What is the difference between being against a war and building a peace?
For me, one of the most important lessons from the Vietnam War was the distinction between the American people and the US government. The Vietnamese helped those of us who opposed the war to understand this distinction and allowed us to act in solidarity with the people our government was attacking. It made room for some of our soldiers to become strong advocates for peace.
This distinction has been on my mind as I see media accounts emphasizing the growing hatred toward the Russian people. Globally, some people have been expressing solidarity with Ukrainians by attacking people of Russian origins in their communities. Restaurant owners report abusive, often violent threats. Congress members are saying we should “kick out” Russian students, Russian Orthodox churches have been attacked, and hockey players are asking for special security for their families in face of violent threats.
This global disdain is much more intense in Ukraine. The New York Times said, “If there is one overriding emotion gripping Ukraine right now, it is hate.” This hatred is directed not only at Putin and the Russian government, but at “ordinary Russians.”
Fostering hatred against the Russian people may be the most destructive long range weapon to come out of this war. If we are ever to survive for a future, we are going to have to call upon the best in us to find our ways to see each other as full human beings, capable of love and forgiveness, capable of recognizing our own hypocrisies and contradictions, and capable of transforming ourselves.
We, in the US, owe a great debt to the Russian people. For all its contradictions, the Russian Revolution in 1917 brought a vision of an alternative to capitalist exploitation of people. It was a glimpse that “another world was possible.”
That vision, shaped and reshaped, especially by the Black radical tradition in the American south, opened up our understanding of systemic racism and offered an alternative to life under racial capital. In his groundbreaking work Hammer and Hoe, Robin D. G. Kelley talks about the importance of the Communist Party, supported and often guided by the Soviet Union, in bringing international attention to conditions of African Americans in the south.
This week marks the anniversary of the Scottsboro Boys. On March 25, 1931 nine teenaged boys were arrested in Alabama and charged with raping two white women. Two weeks after their arrest and near lynching, the Communist Party “transformed a local struggle into an international cause.” The Communists saw this case as an opportunity to build a mass movement. They organized an international campaign, including mass demonstrations and public protests. Their efforts inspired demonstrations and defense committees around the globe from Cleveland to Johannesburg, Tokyo, Paris, and Moscow. They made the bold claim that Alabama was “planning a legal lynching” and they challenged the main stream narrative, humanizing the boys and helping people understand the structural dimensions of racial capital.
Today, some people in Russia are risking their lives to protest this war. Often lead by women and queer activists, Russians are finding creative, courageous ways to demand peace. More than 17,000 Russian artists signed an open letter saying no to war. They have been joined by scientists and other professional groups across Russia.
The world will not survive if we continue down the road to war, hatred, and military might. Creating a culture of peace is our only alternative. Finding our way to radical love is our first task.