‘It is not enough to say, 'We must not wage war.' It is necessary to love peace and sacrifice for it. We must concentrate not merely on the negative expulsion of war, but the positive affirmation of peace.’ (Martin Luther King)

Armistice Day is a poignant moment to reflect on the end of the ‘war to end all wars’ – which, in spite of such terrible suffering and optimistic hope, didn’t end war. I will share some reflections here, drawing on critical conversations this month with lifelong peace activist, Rudi Weinzierl, in Germany.

Tension and conflict between countries and between state- and non-state actors is certainly on the increase. We aren’t (…some would say yet…) experiencing anything on the scale of the global World Wars of the 20th century – although the devastating impacts of current wars can feel like it locally – yet conflicts of various types are now taking place in the form of territorial disputes, proxy wars, economic coercion and cyber warfare. Here are some reasons why:

1.  Shift in global power balance

Emerging multipolar world: The global power landscape is no longer dominated by a single superpower. While the United States was the dominant global force in the latter part of the 20th century, in the 21st century other nations (most notably China and Russia) have increased their economic, military and geopolitical influence. This shift creates new friction as the established power and rising powers compete for regional dominance and influence.

Rising nationalism: Nationalist movements around the world have gained traction (including in liberal U.S., Europe and Scandinavia), often leading countries to adopt more polarised and assertive foreign policies, or policies towards foreigners within their own borders, to showcase strength and independence to their own domestic audiences and to other parties abroad. This can fuel aggressive rhetoric, civil tensions, military build-ups and territorial disputes.

2.  The dark side of human nature

Inherent human-social tendency: The human condition includes the potential for good and evil – although the meaning of these terms as socially-constructed (and associated ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’) has moved away from absolutes. Attempts to understand and explain (and sometimes change) human behaviour have focused on nature vs nurture, and now neuroscience and genetic disposition. Whatever the origin, we see so much evidence of the ‘human tendency to f*** things up’ and, at times, sheer self-defeating craziness.

Political and media influence: Increasingly polarised and polemical rhetoric by politicians and in mainstream/social media often tap into the darker side of human nature. Social media lacks the formal, traditional accountability mechanisms that have governed, or at least influenced, mainstream media in national democracies until fairly recently. This leaves individuals, groups and whole societies open to influence by lies (fake news) and cynical manipulation.

3.  Territorial disputes and national identity

Historical grievances: Many countries and non-state actors have unresolved historical disputes over borders, territories and sovereignty. Issues like the status of the West Bank and Gaza, East Ukraine and Crimea, Taiwan, the South China Sea and the Kashmir region are all flashpoints where historical grievances add fuel to geopolitical tension and rivalry.

Protection of cultural and political influence: Some states view certain regions as essential to their cultural identity or political influence. China’s stance on Taiwan or Israeli/Palestinians’ competing claims on the West Bank, for instance, reflect not only territorial claims but also a deeply-embedded aspect of national identity and sovereignty.

4.  Economic competition and trade conflicts

Resource scarcity: Growing populations and rising consumption (fuelled by a near-universal belief that continual economic growth and material wealth are self-evidently good) create increased demand for resources including oil, minerals and fresh water. Disputes over access to these resources – often involving countries with overlapping claims like those in the South China Sea or DRC – can result in or risk escalating into militarised conflicts.

Trade wars and economic sanctions: Economic tensions, particularly between large economies like the U.S. (especially under its new president-elect) and China (with its relentless drive for expansion), can exacerbate hostility. Trade wars, tariffs and sanctions are used as tools of political influence but they can also create a hostile environment where countries and blocs (e.g. U.S., China, EU, BRICS) view each other as adversaries rather than trading partners.

5.  Arms race and military modernization

Increased ‘defence’ spending: Many nations (especially since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine) are investing ever-more heavily in their military capabilities; including nuclear arsenals, advanced weaponry and missile technology. This arms race enhances the global arms industry's profits, power and influence, and creates a sense of insecurity as competing countries or blocs feel insecure, threatened or pressured to keep up with or surpass their rivals.

New types of weapons: Development of new types of warfare technology such as drones, hypersonic missiles and AI-driven systems creates uncertainty. These technologies may also lower the threshold for engaging in conflict as often they don’t require putting troops on the ground or risking as many human lives, making military interventions seem less costly.

6.  Proxy wars and regional conflicts

Proxy warfare: Powerful countries often avoid direct confrontation by supporting opposing factions in other nations' conflicts. For instance, the Syrian civil war which saw involvement from the U.S., Russia, Turkey and Iran, each backing different factions; and Iran’s sponsorship of Hezbollah, Hamas and Houthis. Such conflicts can spiral, impacting global stability while remaining below the threshold of a formal, direct war between the major powers themselves.

Regional instability: Conflicts can occur in regions with weak governance, where external powers may intervene to protect their own interests or allies. This has been common in the Middle East, North and Central Africa and parts of Asia where conflicts over resources, religious and ethnic divisions and political instability invite foreign involvement. It is also leading to new alliances, for example the emerging Russia-China-Iran-North Korea axis.

7.  Technological warfare and cyber threats

Cyber warfare: In the digital age, countries and non-state actors increasingly target one another through cyber means. Cyberattacks aim to, for instance, disrupt infrastructure, steal intellectual property and influence public opinion. The clandestine nature of cyber warfare allows parties to escalate tensions without direct, visible confrontation; creating a background sense of constant threat and conflict.

Information warfare: Social media and other digital platforms allow states and non-state actors to interfere in other nations' politics. Propaganda and misinformation, exacerbated by use of AI (for example, deep fake) and hacking can destabilize and create mistrust between countries.

8.  Weakening of international institutions

Decline in influence of global institutions: International organizations like the UN, WTO, NATO and EU face challenges that limit their ability to prevent conflict. Rising nationalism and populist sentiment in many countries have led to scepticism of international bodies, weakening their capacity to mediate disputes and enforce peace.

Erosion of global norms: Norms that were once established and broadly-accepted internationally, such as respect for territorial sovereignty or non-interference in other countries’ affairs, have weakened in recent years. This erosion of norms can embolden countries to act unilaterally without fearing major diplomatic or economic consequences.

9.  Climate change and environmental stressors

Resource-driven conflict: Climate change effects have increased competition for natural resources, leading to conflict over land, water and food. Areas affected by severe droughts, floods or sea-level rise can create new waves of migration. The resulting population movements can contribute to tensions within and between countries and blocs too.

Strain on fragile states: Fragile states are particularly vulnerable to climate-related stressors which can destabilize governments, lead to civil tensions and conflict and create vacuums that foreign powers might exploit, either for resources or their own strategic advantage.

Can these trends be reversed?

While the causes are complex, we believe several steps could help to reduce international tensions and violence. (Having said that, we don’t see any evidence of leadership globally pointing in these directions at present; and we struggle to see how, as individuals, we can exert any influence whatsoever to change this):

New models of leadership: Leaders who value and model prayerful humility over arrogant posturing; mutual good over national self-interest; long-term sustainable goals over short-term expedient action; peace and justice for all over exploitation at others’ expense.

Strengthening diplomacy and conflict-resolution mechanisms: Diplomatic channels and innovative conflict resolution processes could be reinforced, with renewed global cooperation to address issues peacefully and collectively.

Building economic interdependence: Economic partnerships that foster interdependence could help reduce the likelihood of conflict. Countries deeply invested in trade and mutual economic gain may be less inclined to disrupt those benefits through violence.

Global action on climate change: Addressing climate change collaboratively can reduce resource-driven tensions. Initiatives focused on sustainable development, renewable energy and climate adaptation in vulnerable regions could mitigate some of the pressures that contribute to inter-state tension and violence.

Regulation of cyber and information warfare: Establishing global norms and treaties to regulate cyber activities and disinformation could help curb the impact of technology-driven conflict.

What do you think?

‘Who, being loved, is poor?’ (Oscar Wilde)

Jasmin asks the poorest kids who live in a cemetery: ‘What do you dream of for this Christmas?’ ‘A school bag!’, they reply. This isn’t the answer I had expected. They live outdoors, playing and sleeping among the marble tombs and mausoleums of those who, in this life, had the benefit of greater wealth. It’s a precarious existence for these kids and their families with the risks of starvation, poor health, injury or criminal activity on the one hand, or of being suddenly and unceremoniously evicted from their makeshift home by the police or local authority on the other. It’s a safeguarding nightmare and some locals say the poor make the place look messy, untidy.

Jasmin, a poor Filipina among the poor, does the maths. There are 127 children living there. One robust, durable, waterproof, cleanable and (importantly) cool-looking school bag each, plus 8 notebooks in each bag (one for each subject at school), plus pens and pencils. And a handful of special chocolate Christmas treats for each child too! For Jasmin, this isn’t just a project. It isn’t just about providing practical assistance to these families in material need. It’s a symbol, a sign, a positive action, that demonstrates to these children that they are seen…and that God sees them…and that they are loved. It’s about a sacred encounter with Jesus on Christmas Day.

I love that. We too can be hope.

‘To learn through listening, practice it naively and actively. Naively means that you listen openly, ready to learn something, as opposed to listening defensively, ready to rebut. Listening actively means you acknowledge what you heard and act accordingly.’ (Betsy Sanders)

I ran a Leading and Influencing Change workshop today for health and social care professionals, focused on introducing and embedding trauma-informed practice in the mental health arena. Ironically, the event took place in an old, abandoned fortress, with the training room in which we met surrounded by symbols of attack and defence: tanks, artillery, torpedoes, tunnels and protective walls. There was also a disused military hut with 007 on the door, a symbol of secretive actors and actions behind the scenes made famous by fictitious spy James Bond.

Serving as metaphors, we considered how to shift team and organisational culture away from, at times, a default and subconscious fight-flight, attack-and-defence response in incredibly busy, pressured and complex work environments. We did this by thinking through approaches and behaviours that may look and feel counter-cultural – in practice, if not in principle – in those contexts. It entails role-modelling five key qualities in attitude and action in communications, conversations and relationships: i.e. safety, trust, choice, collaboration and empowerment.

What could this look like practice? One participant illustrated it beautifully. When I asked for volunteers, she commented that she felt nervous to take part in an activity in front of the group. Two simple questions can make all the difference here: ‘If you were to do X, what would that mean for you?’ (e.g. ‘I would feel anxious and exposed in front of my peers’) and, ‘Given that, what would you need?’ (e.g. ‘If I could have more information about what the activity will entail, I could make a considered decision’; or ‘If I could sit behind a table, I would feel less exposed.’)

This is, at heart, about adopting and modelling a human, invitational and coactive leadership style and approach that takes the voices, hopes and concerns of others seriously. I don’t believe the oft-quoted maxim that people are necessarily and fundamentally resistant to change. In my experience, people may resist a change, even if they agree with it, if they don’t feel heard and understood. Conversely, people may support a change, even if they don’t agree with it, if they do feel heard and understood. Attack-and-defence is a sign that something has gone awry.

[See also: Trauma-informed coaching; A safe-enough space]

​‘Our children need our presence more than our presents.’ (Jesse Jackson)

The pilot’s announcement came as a surprise as we sat on the runway at Amsterdam airport, waiting to take off. ‘Apologies for the delay. There’s a technical problem.’ 15 minutes later, ‘We need to refuel the plane.’ Bemused faces among the passengers – didn’t it occur to anyone to refuel the plane? 30 minutes later, the captain again over the tannoy: ‘I have good news and bad news. The good news is the plane is now refuelled. The bad news is that, while refuelling, the ground crew noticed evidence of a bird strike on the plane’s engines. We can’t take off safely until the damage has been checked and repaired.’ Looks of stunned disbelief all around now.

A 13 year-old girl sitting next to me looked up and spoke to me, a total stranger. ‘Where are you travelling from?’ she asked. ‘I’m on my way back from Germany,’ I replied, ‘How about you?’ ‘I’ve been here for a hockey competition with my school,’ she said, pointing to the 49 or so other children sitting around us and the teacher sitting beside me across the aisle. ‘How did you get on?’ I asked. ‘Well,’ she replied, ‘they were 17 year-olds, and we still won.’ She went on to tell me about her life, all the astonishing things she had achieved in so many fields. ‘Your parents must be very proud of you.’ I said. She looked down, sadly, and sighed ‘I don’t think they feel proud of me.’

I didn’t know what to say. ‘You remind me of my youngest daughter when she was your age.’ I said, and I showed her a photo on my phone. ‘Yes, I can see the likeness.’ she smiled. I shared a story of how I used to take my daughter to her primary school and hold her hand all the way to the door. One day, in a deeply sensitive and diplomatic tone (well beyond her years), she said, ‘Dad, I know you love holding my hand and taking me to the door. I love it too. But have you noticed the other parents wave goodbye to their children at the school gate?’ I knew what she was trying to tell me. I learned to let go and wave from the gate. It was a parental rite of passage.

My neighbour looked deeply thoughtful. ‘I would love to have had my parents walk me to school and to hold my hand like that.’ ‘Didn’t they?’, I asked. ‘No,’ she said, ‘They made me walk to school alone because they wanted me to be independent.’ I felt her sadness. Here was this young person, so very talented, with wealthy and high-achieving parents who clearly support her in so many ways (including her determined ambition to become an Olympic athlete in 2028). Yet, nonetheless, at a simple human level, she felt so alone. The pilot interrupted our chat, ‘The repairs are done and we’re ready to take off now’. We were both very quiet during the flight back.

‘Refugees didn’t just escape a place. They had to escape a thousand memories until they’d put enough time and distance between them and their misery to wake to a better day.’ (Nadia Hashimi)

I learnt a new expression in Germany this week: ‘Ich bin ein Anhänger Jesu’: that is, ‘I’m a follower of Jesus.’ Anhänger. An interesting use of metaphorical language. It’s the same word that we’d use, in English, for a trailer. A trailer has no power of its own and relies entirely on the vehicle that pulls it. To be a follower of Jesus is, in the words of 18th century preacher Chales Finney, completely dependent on ‘power from on high’. It’s as if God can draw us in all kinds of directions and make the most amazing journeys possible. Without him, we are like a trailer standing unhitched at the roadside. That’s certainly been true in my experience, and for others too.

Margitta was 7 years old when her father, a Christian who resisted Communist ideology openly at increasing risk, made the bold decision to leave East Germany (the former DDR) to escape to the West. They couldn’t have known that, just one year later, the Berlin Wall would be built and that journey would be impossible. Margitta remembers vividly wearing extra clothing – the only possessions they could take with them – as they climbed onto a train. To carry bags would have looked suspicious to the border authorities and tempted arrest. It was Easter Sunday which, for Christians, represents life-after-death, when they stepped off the train in West Berlin.

It was the beginning of a new life, but certainly not the end. The next few years were marked by being moved from place-to-place, firstly in West Berlin and then, after having been flown out of the isolated island city that Berlin had now become, in West Germany. Margitta remembers living in large rooms full of refugees with tables upturned to create makeshift beds, then in apartment blocks with brightly-painted coloured doors, then again in halls where families were separated only by sheets hanging from rails or the ceiling. It was a painful experience, especially for Margitta’s Mum, to be separated so far from her extended family and all that had been home.

Last night, as I watched the German movie, ‘Bornholmer Straße’ with Margitta and her Christian husband Uli, it brought these memories back to life. I visited Berlin last week and, seeing the film play out the drama that had happened that night – some 28 years after the Wall had been built – when the heavily-guarded border between East and West finally opened again, was an emotional experience. For many trapped in the East who had felt like prisoners in their own country, this Kairos moment really was like a death-to-life experience. Margitta looks back with thanks for how God grasped hold of her family – and took them on that journey of hope, to freedom.

Ein Anhänger Jesu.

‘In years and generations down the line, there's going to be a right and wrong side of history, and I certainly want to be on the right side’. (Duncan Robinson)

Shortly after the end of World War 2 at the Nürnberg War Trials, Hermann Göring, a leading Nazi figure, attempted to absolve himself by claiming, ‘The victor will always be the judge, and the vanquished the accused.’ It’s as if the accusations levelled against him for the horrific atrocities of the Nazi regime and, therefore, the necessity for him to defend himself now on trial, were a consequence of the Allies winning the war and the Nazis losing it. It was an attempt to deflect personal responsibility, to re-present historical facts as politically-construed by the victors.

No-one can know for sure if Göring actually believed his own cynical rationalisations. We do, however, know that Adolf Hitler was driven by a similar sentiment at the end of World War 1. He felt a seething resentment that, after all he and his comrades had endured during that war, Germany was now presented to the world as the undisputed guilty party and aggressor. The Allies were able to console themselves that their suffering during the war had been worth it, to defeat the evil enemy. The Germans had no such consolation. They were on the wrong side – and lost.

This week, I was in Germany and visited the preserved remnants of the infamous Berlin Wall. I spoke with a friend, Alex, who shared some of his own experiences of visiting this place just after the Wall came down. For some people with whom he spoke in the (now former) Deutsche Demokratische Republik (DDR), they had the feeling of being on the wrong side in World War 2 under the Nazis, and then again under the Eastern (Communist) Bloc. It’s hard existentially to carry a cultural history, an international portrayal, a feeling of guilt: to have been on the wrong side.

‘People who are homeless are not social inadequates. They are people without homes.’ (Sheila McKechnie)

A crisis moment. Sink or swim. Thrown in at the deep end. With no experience of management, residential care or homelessness, I was suddenly and unexpectedly handed responsibility for 3 hostels for young single homeless people with a 4th in the pipeline. The hostels were in crisis too, having being set up with little thought to the required expertise or financial resourcing. It was a stressful experience that I only survived thanks to God’s help and the good people around me.

As part of my orientation, I visited a local project where a group of Christians were working with ‘rough sleepers’, that is people who lived on the streets and, for a complex range of reasons, at that time didn’t want to be housed. It turned out this group was very different to the hostels’ client group which comprised 16-24 year olds who found themselves homeless, mostly owing to mental health or relational breakdown, and wanted housing with resettlement support.

The Christian group had conducted light-touch, sensitive research among local rough sleepers to find out what, if anything, they could offer in support. Most suggested very simple, practical things – ‘A place to take a shower’, or ‘Somewhere to wash and dry my clothes and sleeping bag.’ ‘And what else?’, the group asked. ‘A haircut’, ‘A shave’ or ‘To get my nails trimmed.’ The latter requests were all about feeling more human – and being seen and treated as more human.

I found these insights very striking. The Christians opened a church building; lovingly fitted hot showers with perfumed, fresh-smelling shampoos, soaps and towels; installed washing machines and tumble-dryers; invited in local hairdressers to offer free haircuts and shaves and local beauticians to give free manicures and pedicures. The rough sleepers were still sleeping rough, but the restoration of their sense of human dignity, worth and self-respect was amazing.

‘Wealth and individualism are positively correlated at both the individual and the national level.’ (Yuji Ogihara)

I met with a group of young students in Germany this week to compare and contrast social trends with the UK. We focused initially on the ways in which our respective households have changed, for example, in terms of size and structure. In the 1950s, for instance, households in Germany and the UK were typically larger and multigenerational. Today, in these and other European countries, households are smaller with a significant rise in the proportion of people who live alone.

I invited the students to reflect on what might lay behind these changes and I was astonished by the sophistication of the conversation that flowed between them – a testimony to the Montessori school’s teachers and distinctive pedagogical approach. I suggested that, based on what I have learned in Asia and Africa, household size is often influenced by relative poverty and wealth. It’s as if the more money we have, the less we need to depend on each other: at least financially.

Rudo Kwaramba explains: ‘In wealthy countries, if you can’t earn an income or if you lose your job, your government provides you with financial support; if you become injured or unwell, your health system or insurance covers you. In poorer countries, people can only look to each other for this support.’ This interdependency phenomenon is a deep cultural driver behind building and sustaining close relationships within extended families, and between families and wider communities.

Broader cultural considerations apart, as the wealthy get richer, not only do we tend to become more individual-orientated but our quality-of life-expectations grow too. Many people in affluent societies now believe they can’t afford to have children because they have to work so hard to earn enough money to gain or sustain the lifestyle they aspire to. As a consequence, we face a ticking time bomb of rapidly-ageing populations with fewer young people to support and replace them.

It's time for a rethink.

‘Live so that when your children think of fairness and integrity, they think of you.’ (H. Jackson Brown)

When I first became a follower of Jesus, I was very mindful of some of the horrendous situations in the world that people were living in, in dire poverty and oppression, surviving on a knife edge. And here I was living in UK society with what people here regard as 'normal'. I moved down to London to work as a Community Service Volunteer for a year and I was placed in a hostel where I had a simple room with a bed. The first thing I did was to get rid of the bed.

I said to myself, ‘I don’t want to be sleeping in comfort when others in the world are having to sleep in a cell or on the floor.’ Even though removing the bed had zero impact on the poor in the world, it did feel like an act of solidarity and somehow, spiritually, that felt important to me. And things like that have continued to feel important to me. It’s not just about making a physical change in other people’s circumstances and lives. It’s about being in solidarity-with.

Now clearly it was different for me because, if I wanted to, I could just replace the bed, whereas people living at bare subsistence level don’t have that option. Yet it still felt like it mattered. I didn’t lock my room because I wanted to own so few possessions that there was nothing there for me to try to protect, and nothing there for people to break in to steal. I didn’t want to be possessed by possessions and this was a simple, practical way to break their hold.

A stranger appeared, knocked on my door and introduced himself as being on a brief visit to England. Having seen some radical posters on my walls through my street-level window, he had mistakenly assumed it was a human rights office. He explained in broken English that his daughter was a Chinese dissident in the UK and that he felt desperately concerned for her safety. I listened, powerless and intently, as he poured out his heart. An act of solidarity.

‘Trust that what needs to be said will come up naturally, either from you or the other person.’ (Liz Dunphy)

A commonly-held belief is that the power and potential of coaching resides in asking great questions. It is after all true that a well-worded, placed and timed question can shift our entire perspective, open up fresh possibilities and create a seismic shift in our sense of agency. I’ve experienced that personally and have seen and felt its impact.

What else makes the difference? ‘We learn from an early age what the ‘correct’ answers are – those that will win us approval.’ (Rudi Weinzierl) For coaching questions to land well and to do their work without being deflected by defences, there’s something about being in a receptive state of curiosity, of invitation, of a desire and willingness to learn.

Yet, deeper still, I notice the mysterious power of presence. Here I am grappling with a complex issue and struggling to find or create a way forward. Somebody I trust comes alongside me, is really present to me, listens actively and intently without even saying a word…and something shifts inside me. It’s like the presence of God – transformational.

A new insight surfaces into awareness as if it were released, catalysed by the quality of contact between us. It was already there, perhaps, but hidden from sight or out of reach. In the moment, it can feel like a realisation, a revelation. Questions stimulate and crystallise our thoughts and galvanise our responses. Emergence arises through presence.

(See also: Emergence in action learning; Test and learn; Plan vs prepare)