In these times, when 'otherness' is often misconstrued as 'alien', dialogue remains more relevant than ever
The world’s nations reached many agreements in 2015. They signed up for Sustainable Development Goals. They set a more ambitious goal for arresting carbon emissions—“well below" the previous goal of 2 degree Celsius above pre-industrial levels, with a 1.5 degree Celsius temperature rise target finding mention as well—while excusing the powerful nations that had not implemented agreements made so far. In November in Paris, some nations agreed to cooperate to fight the menace of ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria) and terrorism. Meanwhile, European countries debated their responsibilities for handling the inflow of refugees. A few nations entered into an ambitious new trade agreement—the Trans-Pacific Partnership. In December in Nairobi, the aspirations of the World Trade Organization to implement a globally equitable trade agreement finally came down to earth in failure.
Last year marked The Return of History and the End of Dreams—the title of Robert Kagan’s 2008 book on the shifts underway in geopolitics—the rise of China, the return of Russia, a reawakened Japan. Kagan recalls the ambition with which multilateral institutions were created after the end of World War II—the United Nations, the Bretton Woods institutions, and later, the World Trade Organization—to prevent nations from disrupting the world while pursuing their national interests. Many problems are rooted in past injustices caused by powerful nations imposing their will on others. The dream was the creation of institutions to find equitable solutions to international problems and to prevent nations taking the law into their own hands. It has not turned out that way. The powerful may espouse the values of equity, fairness and justice. But, as powerful nations always have, they will use their power to look after their own interests. Many good intentions were buried or watered down in 2015: the principles of “common but differentiated responsibilities" and “polluter pays", which were the basis for the climate accords, as well as the assurance of the Doha Round to address the needs of poorer countries in trade negotiations before moving on to the agenda of the rich countries.
No doubt, the ‘scientific’ principle of comparative advantage underlying trade theory—that the efficiency of the global production system will improve if all nations produced only what they can most efficiently, and traded with open borders with each other—can be mathematically established. However, as political economist Dani Rodrik pointed out many years ago, to get from here (where the production is not taking place in the most efficient places) to the future (where it will be), some countries will have to stop doing what they are doing and let other countries do it for them. The process of going from here to there will require a shuffling around of jobs and industries across nations. He estimated that for every dollar of increase in global output (by nations producing only what they can most efficiently), as many as six or seven dollars of income will have to be reallocated around the world. Thus, the implementation of trade economists’ ‘rational’ solution will disrupt people’s lives. Therefore, people will rationally resist the solution. Similarly, there will be complaints about inequity in purely scientific solutions to climate change.
History has returned. “The Cold War has ended, but the atmosphere of mistrust prevails. The crucial question of the Middle East remains unresolved. Only the concept of what constitutes the enemy has changed: fundamental terrorism has replaced the Soviet Union as a challenge for the West, while the West’s answer to all challenges remains war—the opposite of the word." Thus speaks an introduction to a record of conversations 60 years ago between two remarkable persons: Dag Hammarskjöld, the second secretary-general of the United Nations, and Martin Buber, the great Jewish philosopher (Can we save true dialogue in an Age of Mistrust? published by the Dag Hammarskjöld Foundation). Both were searching for a better way for people to create a better world for everyone.
There is beauty in humanity’s diversity and its myriad traditions. But different histories and diverse perspectives make it difficult for people to agree to universal solutions. One size cannot fit all. The vision touted a few years ago of a world ‘flattened’ by globalization and technology is turning out to be a bad dream. The Internet is not a panacea. Any technology addict who continues to believe that if everyone in the world were to be digitally connected, there would be more understanding and less hate and violence is disconnected from reality. Social media spreads hate faster than any virus. It proliferates random violence and terrorism.
History has returned but dreams have not ended. Economists dream of an efficient global economy. Philosophers dream of a just and compassionate world. Statesmen dream of a world in which nations will settle their differences only with the word without war. People everywhere want peace for their children.
To build trust in an age of mistrust, Buber and Hammarskjöld believed the world must return to that old-fashioned technology advocated by spiritual leaders of all faiths: deep listening and dialogue. Buber held that genuine dialogue requires taking the risk of meeting the other without preconceptions, without egotistical interest, without tactical strategy or preconditions, in order to create something new in common.
In these times, when ‘otherness’ is all too often misconstrued as ‘alien’, the essence of dialogue remains more relevant than ever. Dialogue partners must be able to see the eyes of the others from within their personalities without losing their own. True dialogue can lead to positive dynamics, a “spiral of trust".