A Message on Peace from Rotary Magazine
WHAT IS PEACE? How do we recognize it? If we were to paint it, should we imagine a valley in springtime, with full sun? Cue the songbirds, the leafy trees. Sprinkle liberally with daffodils. Remember to pack plenty of pastels.
In the popular mind, peace is a state in which nothing much happens. There is no conflict, there is no friction; it’s where never is heard a discouraging — or incendiary — word. It’s a world in aspic.
Sound nice? Not really. There’s no room for real life. Wars break out. Grievances, resentments, a strategic advantage, and the availability of weapons can all contribute to the flipped switch that leads to bloodshed and tragedy. Peace never simply breaks out. It’s far more deliberate. It’s not improvised. The run-up to peace, I bet, goes through several drafts, with lines rewritten, entire paragraphs cut, and great gnashing of teeth over a few crucial words.
We have many famed renderings of the ideas behind war, rebellion, and carnage. Jacques-Louis David’s kinetic portrait of Napoleon crossing the Alps, for example. What a selfie! Or Eugène Delacroix’s Liberty Leading the People, which depicts a Romantic version of heroic rebellion. It would be 85 years before photographs from the battlefields of World War I revealed the raw barbarity of armed conflict, a sight from which we could not avert our eyes.
So what do we have as a modern image of peace? In 2010, I visited the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, where I tucked myself into an exhibit re-creating John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s "bed-in," when they encouraged the world to give peace a chance. But in what felt like a mausoleum for peace, I was unable to summon much enthusiasm for the enterprise.
Two years later, in 2011, I spent time with Sakuji Tanaka as he was about to assume the office of Rotary president. His theme was Peace Through Service. He organized presidential peace conferences in Berlin, Hiroshima, and Honolulu, bold gestures for Rotary. He attended a peace forum in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, where the nuclear material for the first atomic weapon, deployed against Japan during his lifetime, was made.
I asked Tanaka how service could lead to peace. He believed that by serving others to provide for the basic needs of health care, sanitation, food, and education, we could nurture peace. So is there a painting of that?
Maybe Caravaggio’s The Seven Works of Mercy in the Pio Monte della Misericordia in Naples, Italy. In it, the artist crammed representations of the Misericordia brotherhood’s agenda: bury the dead, feed the hungry, visit the imprisoned, shelter the homeless, clothe the naked, visit the sick, refresh the thirsty. Treading air above it all are two angels, bearing Mary and her child, conferring on those below the grace to be merciful. The painting is full of action.
So is the pursuit of peace. But we have to come up with our own pictures.
John Rezek, Editor, The Rotarian