This summer I traveled to Northern Ireland to understand America’s divisiveness through the eyes of another divided country. Here’s what I’ve learned: The United States is a divided country that hasn’t accepted that we’re a divided country, and that’s holding us back.
Most of us are caught up in a fight or flight mentality when it comes to the divisions in our country right now. When we meet someone who is on the “other side” of the political spectrum, the tendency is either to distance ourselves from that person or to convince them why they are wrong. On the other hand, they may seem so repulsive that they challenge our notion of what it means to be human and American.
But here’s the thing: America doesn’t like to be divided. Many countries struggled with divisions, including Germany, North and South Korea, South Africa and Northern Ireland. Despite our longing for American exceptionalism, we are no different from these other countries. We must face the fact that the United States is a divided country. It is painful and difficult. And it’s not going to change anytime soon.
Northern Ireland’s ability to “name the problem” by acknowledging that it is a divided country has enabled it to move towards greater peace. This realization came at a high price – the death of 3,000 Northern Irishmen, the injury of many more, and a history of pain and sorrow that will forever be part of the country’s consciousness. But after years of pain, fear and loss, people realized that the consequences of being divided are much, much worse than learning to accept that the country is divided and live peacefully with that reality.
Here’s the risk to Americans if we don’t come to the same conclusion. During the Troubles, many Catholics and Protestants stopped seeing each other as human beings. We are now on that edge in the United States. It seems that there is no common ground between liberals and conservatives and that people from different sides of the issue cannot possibly coexist. The risk is grave and urgent, because once we lose this humanity, it at best encourages greater isolation and separation from any of us, and at worst sets the stage for violence and civil war.
After naming the problem, Northern Ireland was able to create programs and policies to address its division. The national police force changed its policy to require an equal amount of Catholics and Protestants in the office to reduce bias and promote indiscriminate cooperation. At Corrymeela, a non-profit peace center that builds bridges between Protestants and Catholics, Protestant and Catholic youth come to the retreat center to meet different peers and learn about the things they have in common. For many children, this is the first time they meet someone from the other side. If we could name the problem in the United States, we could create policies and programs that would allow people to recognize their common humanity.
For example, while we espouse the value of conversation without difference, and these conversations do indeed create great differences in society, many of us have no desire to participate in such exchanges. If we asked a white, rural, Trump supporter and an urban, black, liberal woman to come together and listen to each other, many people would likely decline the invitation. But these two people inevitably have things in common just by being human. However, in most contexts, these people are unlikely to meet at all, and will never have the opportunity to discover how they both share the experience of being human – the desire to be loved and feel safe, to feel connected and valued, to feel successful and secure.
American democracy at the national level needs major reforms. However, for most of the American public, reforming the nation’s democracy is a daunting and unattainable task. But one thing we can do is build relationships at the local level. The idea of building relationships across differences can seem quixotic – tilting at windmills and an impossible dream. But part of the beauty of being human is that we have the capacity for empathy and kindness, and these feelings can grow even in the most painful circumstances.
As proof, in Corrymeela, Northern Ireland, I saw the majesty of what it looks like to let go of division. I met Eleanor Hayes, a Protestant nurse who worked in the emergency department at the height of the Troubles. Sometimes in an act of political violence such as a bombing, there were so many injuries that the hospital would have to place the perpetrators of the incidents in beds with the victims they injured. Seeing wounded people on both sides of the conflict, Eleanor realized that people share more than they differ and was drawn to the path of peace. The people I met in Northern Ireland were not apolitical or impartial. They still had their belief systems and values. But they realized that the price of sharing was not only too high, but also an unwinnable game. In the words of the 1980s movie “War Games,” the only way to win the game was not to play.
If we want to address divisions in our local communities, building relationships across differences is the place to start. We must be able to turn our face to the other side.
I live in a politically purple neighborhood. I am on one side of the political spectrum, and the people who live across the street from me are on the other. In the early spring of this year, I was trying to lug the grill up the stairs to my deck by myself. When my neighbor from the “other side” saw how I was struggling, she approached me and offered her hand.
While we were building the grill together, I asked her how her dog was doing. The appearance of my neighbor with her old black Lab was a staple in my daily life, and I haven’t seen them on walks lately. She shared that the dog had passed away. I felt sadness for her at that moment, as well as gratitude for her help in setting up the grill.
When I watch the news and feel my anger rising at the other side’s politics, I think of my neighbor’s face. It doesn’t change my mind about my beliefs.
But it helps me to understand that there are people behind politics.
Quixada Moore-Vissing runs Public Engagement Partners and is a fellow at the Carsey School of Public Policy at the University of New Hampshire.
