In an increasingly radicalized and conflicted world, pacifists of all backgrounds are forced to consider their beliefs in a more serious light. This reality has reminded me of my time in Israel during the Middle East cross cultural last spring when many of our group were forced to consider their pacifism due to the realities of life in that region.
Two main occurrences from this trip spurred this consideration.
The first occurred at a Yeshiva, essentially a Jewish seminary, on a settlement in the West Bank when we were staying at the settlement of Efrat. We split into small groups to converse with Yeshiva students, and they graciously allowed us a period of time to ask them anything that we wished to know. Having recently experienced the conflict from the Palestinian side, and the student being one of theology, our conversation quickly moved towards pacifism and the allowance of violence within the Torah.
Our questions were answered thoughtfully, and the student posed a counter-question in reference to the majority of our group’s professed pacifism. He carried a handgun at all times for the sake of defending himself and his family since he lived on a settlement in Palestinian territory. He queried whether or not we as pacifists would be willing to respond with violence to a threat to our loved ones.
In terms of pacifism, this is an entirely valid question and one I deem important for any pacifist to consider: what are the limits of our nonviolence?
These ideas were expanded by an encounter with Professor Moshe Shner, a Jewish theologian and good friend of our group leaders. He has lectured at EMU, and his encounter with our group began by recollecting the Shenandoah Valley.
He described the beauty of the rolling green fields, blue skies, and the mountains surrounding our campus. After a wistful pause, he stated simply that “it is easy to be a pacifist in such a place.” It was a thought that I had never considered, but is incredibly valid. We live in a wealthy country far away from war and strife. Yes, we have problems of our own, but we do not have to consider daily whether or not we will be attacked.
This short interaction was far more impactful than the extreme hypothetical offered at the Yeshiva, for it made me realize that pacifism at its core is an easy question to answer. Do you support violence? Of course not, why would I want to bring violence into my life?
However, for those living in situations surrounded by violence, the question becomes more muddled.
Thus, I would pose the question: are we pacifists out of true conviction, or are we pacifists for the sake of being able to reject conflict scenarios simply with a voice of opposition?
