The Peacemaker is not so Peaceful

I have spent over 40 years mediating disputes, small and large, local, regional and national, mostly about environmental and natural resource issues. I have loved being a peacemaker – not every minute, but most minutes. I never doubted that I was on the side of good, helping people find that elusive common ground. Surely, it’s good to bring people together, help them negotiate, compromise and find a mutually acceptable solution.  

So, how can it be that I no longer have an appetite for making peace, especially when we seem on the brink of war, civil or otherwise? This is how I see it:  The big issues are not to be mediated into a nice solution. No one should be asked to negotiate away their constitutional rights, their safety, their livelihood. The common ground is charred and barren. Today’s most critical conflicts need judicial and congressional action, and I am praying that the action is swift and just.

And where does that leave the former peacemaker? As I said last month, I am focusing on local needs, and I’m adding to the noise – sending money to causes I believe in, making phone calls to Washington to stop the madness, cheering on leaders who are speaking out. That’s all good, but the administration’s “move fast and break things” strategy — so destructive, here and abroad — has already touched me, my family members and close friends. Not only have I lost faith in peacemaking, I confess I am drawn to the dark side. Even from my position of privilege, I feel the anger and the fear, the helplessness, and I want to fight back. I have fantasies of taking revenge.

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Dimensions

He could have been 75. Or he could have been 95. He wore a blindingly white shirt, tucked into Levis that were creased, both ironed by his wife, or maybe his daughter, I thought. He made a slow beeline for us, pad and pencil in hand.

“Welcome, folks, welcome. We will give you the best breakfast you’ve ever had. I promise. You’ll see.” He chuckled and smiled. He was typical of certain older Hispanic men in northern New Mexico, living treasures, who have deep roots in the land and the culture, who can tell endless stories, and whose hardworking ethic isn’t diminished by the aging process.

We were in Las Vegas, New Mexico, for the weekend. It’s a wonderful town, an hour east of Santa Fe, that offers a great escape from the pressures of work and the routine of home. I’m not complaining about Santa Fe – we are incredibly lucky to be here – but Las Vegas offers a more down home, relaxed, humble experience. At the Plaza Hotel on the town plaza they serve special cocktails with cute names. The Santa Fe is described as “slightly pretentious,” which really made me laugh. Las Vegas is far from pretentious, although it has the same complex history, rich cultural mix and great shopping as its famous neighbor just down the road.

Plaza Hotel, Las Vegas, New Mexico

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