With our own (NFPB's) centenary last year and the anniversary of the first world war fast upon us, there is a fair bit interest in past generations of Quakers and their responses to war. The horror of war that leaves a scar, both on those immediately affected by it, but also on communities and societies as a whole. The psychological affects of war are now well known, and last month saw news reports of the significant scale of post traumatic stress experienced by British armed forces veterans on their return from Afghanistan and Iraq. This is something for which some now get helpful treatment, but others suffer for long periods, often causing wider suffering to families and other around them.
The intensity of feelings arising from the experiences of war can change and shape lives for more than just the one generation. Holding onto hurt can create a toxic legacy – battles lost and won can be used to foment current crises, as we saw in Kosovo – sometimes hundreds of years later. And the pride, or at least commitment to the sense that loved ones should not have died in vain, becomes part of families' histories. More recently, we have been hearing from Quakers whose parents and grandparents refused to fight – this too becomes an important of their family story, and of the collective Quaker story.
George Fox famously reports in his Journal that he, upon being asked to join the Commonwealth army, “told them I knew whence all wars arose, even from the lusts, according to James' doctrine; and that I lived in the virtue of that life and power that took away the occasion of all wars.” Whilst we need to be looking to the future in our peace work should we also be looking at what living in 'the virtue of that life and power that [takes] away the occasion of all wars' means for us in the here and now? Are we open to the transformation that might come from that?
A young Friend recently challenged readers to not regard young Friends as the future of the Society; they are part of the present. In finding a way to act for peace together, we can draw on the insights and experiences of many generations of Friends. This shouldn't be a case of holding onto inspirational history or putting it on a pedestal. 'That was then and this is now'... what can we learn from our history, our present and from one another, that helps us live our peace testimony in the world today?
