The Quaker Model of Skeptical Unity
I’ve been trying to think through a response to the violent rioting and murder in the Muslim world that was sparked by… of all things… a cartoon. As I opened Bloglines this morning, I found this little editorial that summed up how I’ve been feeling:
WorkingForChange-Free speech vs. fascism
It finishes with:
That doesn’t mean I want the U.S. to wage war, economic or military, in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Syria, Palestine, or any other Muslim enclave. It does mean I don’t want them waging war on me, either, whether It’s a bomb, an exploding jet liner, or someone’s banned book list. The riots against these profane cartoons ought to inspire every newspaper in the Western world to print them, just to demonstrate that while we might have all the respect in the world for Islam (and some of our political leaders have a ways to go on that score), we won’t be dictated to by any religion’s lunatic fringe. Religion is the opiate of the masses — and never more so than when it bans all those competing opiates.
What the author just begins to hit on is the biggest problem with democracy (yes, the people in Iran and Afghanistan brought into power their oppressive regimes), either political or religious - that it distills the myriad wills of the people into a monolithic will that has no conscience or respect for humanity and is backed by the collective might of those who believe in the rightness of the union. It’s in these scenarios that humans display both the sublime and the horror within. In the Muslim world, Hamas fits perfectly with this scenario - bringing charitable resources and seeking an end to corruption in Palestine while maintaining responsibility for the murder of hundreds of people.
It’s amazing how well the Quaker approach to polity acts as an answer to the demons of democracy. The idea that decisions must be made unanimously often times confuses and confounds new members, but the reality is that it allows for a skeptical unity that says, “If it’s actually important, we’ll all agree. And if we don’t - let’s figure out how to come to consensus.” It’s hard work, but we are saved the humilitation of running off in directions that are harmful or pointless, and we are given a clarity and focus on the issues that really require our attention. It allows for breathing room and time to weigh the consequences of our actions.
The problem becomes - how do we take that model to the rest of the world? Can consensus really work when you’re dealing with everyday issues like clean water and power? Maybe. Maybe not. Often times it doesn’t work at all in Quaker communities, but it’s worth discussing, at least. What have you learned in your experience of Quaker polity and what lessons can we take away?
