USA: A culture of violence, Part 2

Second in a series by guest author Anthony Marsella

Charting a “culture of violence:” Causes and consequences

As the immediate emotions of the presidential elections pass — the euphoria and elation of the winners, the grief, despair, anger of the losers — the harsh realities of daily life once again emerge. Among these is the widespread violence pervading the United States.

As Figure 1 demonstrates, the manifestations and consequences of violent acts are extensive. They suggest a “culture of violence” that is generated by acts arising from individual and collective impulse and intent and sustained by tolerance and approval across political, economic, educational, military, and moral policies of institutions.

The omnipresence of violenceCulture of violence diagram

As the new year begins, let us acknowledge that violence abounds in American society, touching everyone’s life as victim, perpetrator, or anxious observer and witness of endless violent acts committed locally, nationally, and internationally.

Ultimately we are all victims and perpetrators through acts of intention or acts of silence and indifference.

How much more violence can we view on TV, how much more violence can we cheer and applaud in entertainment, how much more violence can we experience before becoming overwhelmed by a constant state of stress, anxiety, anger, and/or moral indifference?

Every person — regardless of location — is compelled to live with daily reminders of risk and danger. What is distinct about violence in the USA, however, is the existence of a national culture of shared, learned behaviors and meanings transmitted across generations via values, attitudes, and ways-of-life that are violent. This is our culture today. What can we do about it for tomorrow?

Anthony J. Marsella, Ph.D., Emeritus Professor, Department of Psychology, University of Hawaii, Honolulu

Then came Hitler (Quaker reflections, Part 2)

A continuing series by guest author Jean Gerard

I was raised in the early 20th century by a conservative middle class family.  My father educated himself and became a teacher of geology and geography in a large high school in Pittsburgh.

Unemployed during Great Depression
Store vacancies & unemployment during Great Depression. Photo by Dorothea Lange, in public domain.

Dependent upon coal and steel, Pittsburgh suffered from strikes, pollution, and racial and class tensions among social groups– the very rich, middle class professionals, and many immigrant poor.

Children observed or experienced discrimination every day:  the Italian boy who couldn’t speak or read English; the Jewish girl with the violin and the heavy accent; the eight Catholic kids who moved in next door. “I don’t know what you see in those people!” my older sister used to say.

Thousands of “working stiffs” were slaving for next to nothing in the mines and mills, under a system that, in spite of temporary reforms here and there, would persist and eventually destroy the very idea of “liberty and justice for all” to which I swore allegiance every morning.

During the Great Depression, teachers were lucky to keep their jobs. Consequently, every Saturday my father bought large sacks of groceries and gave them away to sad-faced, lost men slouching on sidewalks.

By the time Franklin Roosevelt  came on the scene, my family was split by the politics of middle-class prejudice. I came to see how changes of the New Deal improved the lives of some of my friends even while they enraged others.

Then came Hitler, screeching over radio static from Germany. His ovens turned his country (and the land of my ancestors) into a living hell. By the mid-1930s he had almost made a Communist out of me – but not quite.

I sympathized, but didn’t join any political party because I was too confused and individualistic to join anything. It never crossed my mind that I had the same instinctive fear of consequences that had kept Hitler’s people voiceless–and now again has brought most of us Americans to a state of voluntary amnesia.

I was a political coward. I refused to take responsibility for fear of risking my safety.  I remained an observer with a guilty conscience.

 

Yoga and peace

To be at peace in the world we must be at peace within ourselves.

Occupy the present
Image by Bryan Helfrich. Used under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

In recognition of Yoga Day U.S.A. on Saturday, January 21, Engaging Peace offers some reflections on yoga as a means for discovering and cultivating inner peace.

The Sanskrit word for peace is “shanti.” Many students of yoga are familiar with the phrase “Om shanti, shanti, shanti” as a blessing for peace.

Another word for shanti is equilibrium, as in mental balance. When we feel at peace, we are in balance, and have a sense of equanimity. It’s easy to forgive others and to let go of our own ego-driven desires when we are in balance.

As athletes, martial artists, and yogis know, to be in balance is to be in a position of strength. Inner peace is not weakness; it is a source of resilient energy.

The practice of yoga promotes contentment, or “santosha.” Would we see so many wars around the world if nations and societies experienced contentment? No, war is fueled by discontent–greed, hunger for power and resources, and fear.

Peace and contentment arise from a willingness to respect others and to live with humility. The greeting and closing used in many yoga classes is “namaste,” which means “I bow to you,” or “I honor the light within you.”

Would war’s acts of violence and inhumanity even be possible if warriors honored the light within their opponents?

Let us all find ways to cultivate peace within ourselves. Yoga is but one path for doing so. Find the path that works for you, and enjoy a life of serenity, balance, and contentment.

Then share your sense of peace with others so that it may grow throughout the world.

Om shanti, shanti, shanti.  Peace, peace, peace.

Pat Daniel, Managing Editor of Engaging Peace and Kripalu Yoga Teacher

Religions as revolutions

By guest author Majed Ashy, Ph.D.

Moses and escape from Egypt
Israel's escape from Egypt. Image in public domain

From the time of…

  • Moses, who helped guide the Israelis out of slavery and oppression to freedom, to
  • Jesus, who preached equality and love and changed the whole human understanding of power structures, to
  • Mohammad, who fought tyranny and oppression in Arabia and preached for justice and human dignity …

… one can see that these religions were in some ways revolutions, forces against existing oppressive power structures and traditions.

No doubt, some of the followers of religions established their own oppressive power structures and committed violence, but violence and oppression can be committed by non-religious as well as religious individuals and forces.

What did any religion have to do with the 20 million people killed in WWI, or the 60 million killed in WWII?  With Vietnam, Korean, or Japanese wars, the Cambodian or Rwandan genocides, or the dropping of the nuclear bombs over Japanese civilians?  Or the oppression and killing of millions in Russia and Eastern Europe by Stalin and other dictators, or the oppression committed by military dictators in the Middle East, Africa, Europe, Latin America, among many others?

Linking violence to one religion or another reflects:

  • Selective attention and reading of the history of violence and oppression that existed before and after any of these religions were established
  • Overlooking the role of religions and religious people in fighting oppression and contributing to humans’ well being in many areas of life
  • A dangerous way of offering unexamined answers that feed popular cultural prejudices and fears
  • A simplification of the problem of human violence,l which transcends race, culture, or religion

Instead of falsely attributing violence to religion, we need a serious scholarly non-ideological discussion to find the real roots of violence and the way toward greater peace.

To achieve peace, we need courage to look in the mirror and see our own faults before we point fingers at others, and we need courage in our struggle to be fair — even with those with whom we disagree.

Dr. Majed Ashy, assistant professor of psychology at Merrimack College and research fellow in psychiatry at McLean Hospital/Harvard Medical School