Kevin Clements shares that it is essential to rediscover our humanity at this time of brutal conflict in the world when usual peacemaking efforts seem to have no traction.

I'M A SPECIALIST in peace and conflict studies, so when I was asked to write an article for Tui Motu on the causes of current conflict in the world, it seemed like something that I could knock off in a few hours. As I sat at my computer, however, I developed a very particular kind of writer’s block. I realised that when it comes to conflict and brutality I am suffering from paralytic psychic numbing. I can no longer bear to look at the ongoing political brutality, suffering and deliberate cruelty in Palestine, Ukraine, Sudan or any of the other 58 violent conflicts and wars that currently afflict the world.

Seeing 2 million desperate Palestinians, in real time, struggling for scraps of food is demeaning, dehumanising and shakes my faith in humanity. We’re watching the suffering as it’s happening — doing so makes us passive bystanders and somewhat complicit in state sponsored cruelty. My peacemaking, peacebuilding and non violent theories seem inadequate. They depend on rational and empathetic actors who believe that peace is possible and are willing to generate ripe conditions to that end. As I think about current conflicts it’s clear to me that the leaders who are initiating violence and war are driven by personal and political impulses that defy rationality and humanity. They lack empathy, place little or no value on community and relationships and don't give a damn about eliminating suffering and protecting life.

The question of how we rediscover our humanity, therefore, is urgent and deeply personal. From the war zones of Ukraine, Gaza and Sudan, to the refugee camps of the Rohingya and the everyday racial and economic violence in our own communities, we are confronted daily with suffering that challenges our moral capacity to feel, respond and act. Rediscovering our humanity in such a world is not only possible, it is essential. How do we do this?

Reclaiming Empathy: Seeing the Other as Human

Violence, whether structural or direct, begins with dehumanisation. It flourishes when we stop seeing others as fully human. To reclaim our humanity, we must first restore it in others. Empathy is the radical act of recognition; it requires that we move beyond fear, prejudice, and apathy to see every person as someone with pain, hope and worth.

As the Quaker peace activist Gene Knudsen-Hoffman said: "An enemy is one whose story you have not heard." In listening to those we are taught to fear or dismiss, we reclaim our capacity for compassion.

Listening to and Sharing Human Stories

In an age of statistics and abstract headlines, we risk forgetting that behind every number is a name, a face, a life. Each one of the 2 million Palestinians queuing for food has a story to tell. Similarly, even though it’s hard to contemplate right now, Israelis also have stories to tell. When the violence subsides and peace returns I hope that we can hear these as well. We rediscover our humanity by telling and hearing stories — of loss, of survival, of love and resilience. Literature, films, songs, music, dance and all kinds of personal narratives re-humanise the world. They allow us not just to understand, but to feel.

Whether it’s a Syrian father crossing the Mediterranean with his child, a Sudanese mother fleeing violence, or young protesters demanding justice and peace, these stories remind us of our shared vulnerability and strength.

Resisting Indifference

The scale of suffering is numbing. That's why I am somewhat blocked. Faced with multiple overwhelming crises, a lot of us turn inward, overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all. But indifference is a luxury of the comfortable — and a silent ally of injustice. To be human is to refuse the temptation to look away.

Moral attention is a practice: we choose to witness, to care and to respond, even when the odds seem insurmountable. We may not be able to fix everything, but we can refuse to be complicit through silence or inaction.

Practising Small Acts of Care and Courage

In times of brutality, even small acts of kindness and courage can be revolutionary. Helping a neighbour, speaking against injustice, welcoming a stranger, or simply showing up for someone in need — these are the daily practices that knit our shared humanity back together.

Václav Havel wrote that hope is not the conviction that things will turn out well, but the certainty that something is worth doing, regardless of the outcome. Acts of care, no matter how small, are seeds of that hope.

Pope Leo in his homily on the Good Samaritan said that we need to be open to love so that we can be bold and loving in the midst of fear and suffering.

“Love that gives itself and does not possess, love that forgives and does not demand, love that helps and never abandons.”

Rebuilding Connection — to Each Other and Earth

Disconnection is at the root of much of today’s violence: disconnection from each other, from the natural world, and from ourselves. Rediscovering our humanity requires reweaving the fabric of belonging.

This means building communities of trust, restoring indigenous and ecological knowledge, practising interdependence and seeing Earth not as a resource but as a living system we are part of. Environmental justice and human dignity are inseparable.

Seeking Justice That Heals

In a brutal world, it is easy to reduce justice to punishment. But true justice is about restoration and transformation. It asks how we heal, not just how we hurt back.

Restorative justice practices, truth commissions, peace circles and trauma-informed care offer models for a more humane approach — one that centres the needs of victims, acknowledges harm and seeks genuine repair.

Remembering Human Goodness

Amid every atrocity, history gives us stories of astonishing courage and compassion: those who hid Jews during the Holocaust, the forgiveness shown by genocide survivors, the unarmed civilians who place their bodies between armed groups.

These stories are not anomalies; they are reminders of what is possible. Our task is to amplify them, teach them and live them.

Cultivating Hope as a Daily Practice

Hope is not passive or naive. It is a disciplined, conscious act — a refusal to give in to despair. It is the conviction that, despite all evidence to the contrary, love and justice are still possible.

Anne Frank, writing from the horror of WWII, still believed in human goodness. That belief is not foolish. It is fierce. And it is needed now more than ever. Rediscovering our humanity is not a return to innocence, but a movement toward greater moral depth.

It is an invitation to live as if every life matters — because it does. It is the slow, stubborn work of refusing to give up on each other or the world. In this, we become not only more human, but more fully alive.

Tui Motu Magazine. Issue 306 August 2025: 4-5