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	Connected Consciousness By Dena Merriam

In recent years the word "interconnected" has become commonplace. In part this is due to the Internet and to modern communications technology. It is also due to the way the global economy now works and to our better understanding of the way the environment functions. In recent months we have seen that mortgage foreclosures in the U.S. affect financial systems around the world. We know that coal burning plants in China taint the air we breathe in Los Angeles and San Francisco and that the lifestyle of Americans is contributing to rising ocean levels on a few South Pacific islands. The advent of international terrorism shows how the disaffection of a few in another part of the world can have devastating effects on us. We can no longer ignore poverty or ideological differences and pretend they don’t affect us.

A few decades ago we didn’t realize how connected we all were, but we know now that we are an interconnected world. Therefore, we all have a stake in resolving the problems of humanity — be it hunger, environmental distress, conflict, poor healthcare, or any other common ill.

I have been particularly interested in the way conflict affects us as a world community and how this relates to our understanding of interconnection. About 10 years ago, when I was able to help lead Ruder Finn’s work with the United Nations, I began to see firsthand the difficulties in resolving conflict and the impact these conflicts were having on the local populations. Ruder Finn’s work with the United Nations Secretariat, the UN Department of Public Information, the United Nations Development Fund for Women, and the United Nations Development Program brought me in contact with some of the most pressing issues of our time and enabled me to travel to many parts of the world. I was particularly touched by those in the midst of conflict, the victims of which were most often women. Over time, I came to see their problems as my problems, and it became increasingly difficult to turn away. I could not separate myself from them and go back to the life I had before. I had become connected. I began to see that Ruder Finn, with its longstanding commitment to the public good, could make a special contribution. The passion of our co-founder David Finn for the arts was transmuted in me to a passion for peace. Many years ago, Ruder Finn pioneered a new concept—business support for the arts—and so I thought, why can’t we now initiate another new movement—business support for peace-building? I decided to focus on women, who have been mostly left out of decisions of war and peace and rebuilding, but who have distinctive qualities to offer and perhaps new approaches to resolving conflict. And so I founded a nonprofit, the Global Peace Initiative of Women, through which I could bring my Ruder Finn experience to conflict areas.

In the course of my work with the Global Peace Initiative of Women, I have discovered that while governments and governmental organizations seem paralyzed in the face of some of the world’s worst conflicts, civil society mobilizes itself. There seems to be an unspoken knowing that the pains of one part affect the well-being of all others, just as one broken limb puts the whole body out of kilter. We can’t be really well with a broken leg, or even a broken toe, for that matter. The mobilization of the international community around the tragedy in Darfur is one example of this awareness of our interconnection.

World War II was a lesson in what happens when we look the other way and don’t feel that atrocities committed against one group are atrocities committed against all of humanity. That was an example of an unconnected world, with each group looking out for its own self interest. But out of World War II came the refrain “never again.” More than 60 years later, it is still a struggle for most people to think beyond their own community and realize why they must care. In a shrinking world, with shrinking resources, the generation now coming of age will not have the option of not caring. Conflicts now are everyone’s concerns, not internal matters for one state, one people to address independently. Just as economies cross boundaries, so too does conflict and suffering link us together as a human community.

When the nonprofit I founded first began convening dialogues with people in conflict areas, we made the decision to bring to these dialogues international participants from other areas of conflict or tension. For the first Israeli-Palestinian dialogue we organized, we brought a Native American and a prominent Tibetan spiritual leader, and their participation was a significant factor in turning the dialogue from focusing on “Who is the greatest victim—the Israelis or Palestinians?” to the global nature of suffering. This created a shared space where the experiences of many could be brought in, and it helped to mediate the anger and distrust.

Some years later, when we convened another gathering of Israelis and Palestinians, we brought a woman from Sudan to join. As a Muslim, she expected to identify with the Palestinians, but what she gained was greater understanding of the Israelis. This experience left a great impression on her, and she went back home to Sudan and told her friends about the gathering. She later wrote to me and said, “if the Israelis and Palestinians can sit together, we in Sudan should also be able to—those of us from the north, south, east and west.” She asked for our help in organizing such a dialogue. When we did so last year, we again considered who to bring from the international community to help build this awareness of interconnection. Among the international delegates was a man from Beirut, Lebanon. Just as the North-South war in Sudan pitted Muslim against Christian, a similar dynamic was at work during the civil war in Lebanon. A deep empathy developed among the group: He was an Arab, and thus the Sudanese of Arab descent from the north could identify with him, but he was also a Christian, and so the Christians from the south could also identify with him.

A few months after the Sudan dialogue, violence erupted in Lebanon, and we couldn’t contact our friend in Beirut. The Sudanese delegates were frantic to find out how he was, and for days e-mails swirled back and forth seeking for a word of his well-being. When we finally heard from him, he was deeply touched that our delegates in Sudan, including the ones in Darfur, were so concerned about his safety. With all of the troubles in Darfur, our delegates from there were worried about the violence in Lebanon.

A similar experience happened when we organized a dialogue with young leaders in Cambodia, and we brought as international delegates a man from our group in Sudan and a young man from Vietnam. Little did we realize how much they would share and what bonding would take place. The experience of listening to the Cambodians talk about their genocide and the Vietnamese man telling his perspective had an enormous impact on this young man from southern Sudan. It was probably the first time that a deep exchange took place between Cambodia and Sudan, two countries that have faced enormous suffering and loss during the last few decades. Without articulating it as such, they were able to feel their interconnection.

I had a recent experience that demonstrated once again the importance of us coming to know one another as a world community and of understanding each other’s struggles. This March, the Global Peace Initiative of Women organized a dialogue with 40 young community leaders from Iraq, and we brought as international delegates a young woman from Iran, a young woman from Israel, a Palestinian and a wonderful spiritual leader from Cambodia. The dialogue took place in India. When the Iraqis heard that we were bringing an Israeli, they planned a protest. They assumed it would be a tough-looking man who most likely was part of the Israeli secret service. So when they arrived, they were on the lookout for this man. When someone pointed out the Israeli, a lovely blonde-haired young woman, they were totally disarmed, but they were still planning to protest during her session, when she was to present with our Palestinian facilitator. When the Iraqis saw the Israeli and Palestinian present together, with great love and friendship between them, they were further disarmed. At the onset of the discussion, one of the Iraqis had called out, “We have nothing against you, but your people don’t belong in our region. Go back to where you came from.” This led to an emotional discussion, which ended up in acceptance and bonding. Before the end of our time together, one of the Iraqi men even proposed marriage to her. A number of them said, “We were taught hatred, but we had never met an Israeli before.”

Our translator for this Iraqi dialogue was a Syrian man studying in India—a Syrian from the Golan Heights. It was at first daunting for our Israeli delegate to realize that she had to speak to the Iraqis through a Syrian translator, but by the end of the dialogue, the Israeli and Syrian were walking hand-inhand, calling for a dialogue between Israelis and Syrians.

A similar situation occurred when it came time for our Iranian woman to present to the Iraqi group, describing the loss of her father during the Iraq-Iranian war and the mental disturbances her uncles brought back from that war. At a certain moment, her eyes filled with tears as she spoke about the impact of this on her life as a young girl. The Iraqis rallied around her, and another stereotype was broken.

I knew that the Iraqis would be able to relate to this, and to the Israeli-Palestinian discussion, but I wondered if they would be able to relate to our facilitator from Cambodia. Would they feel connected to this conflict, which, like their own, tore a nation apart, pitting one group, one family, against another?

I was surprised at the strong response to the presentation on Cambodia and the impact Bob, the spiritual leader, made on them. At one point he told them that a great Buddhist teacher many centuries ago had predicted the Cambodian civil war and said, “you will know the Cambodian in the future, he will have only one leg.” Later, when the Iraqis did skits to express their life back home, they integrated this experience and showed a one legged man from Cambodia. Bob showed them that it is possible for a country to rebuild but that it will take time, patience, understanding, and, above all, forgiveness. He gave the Iraqis hope for what is possible.

The goal of these dialogues is to build empathy for people in conflict situations, no matter where these conflicts are, and to demonstrate that we are an interconnected world and we must care about what takes place continents away if we are to become a healthy global community. These dialogues help break down stereotypes and enable people to tap their common humanity. I have seen people walk away transformed, and I have heard expressions of a total shift in thinking. As the Iraqis told us, they now feel part of a global community, a community that cares. Previously, they felt the victims of a war the didn’t want.

At the end of the Iraqi dialogue, one of the Iraqis said to our Israeli delegate, “I now accept not only you but also your people.” And for the Israeli and Palestinian, just the fact of presenting together and together witnessing all that the Iraqis are experiencing helped to draw them out from their own conflict and put it into a broader context. There is great value in these exchanges. They are civil society’s way of trying to build a more connected world and develop a more interconnected consciousness.

My experiences have shown me that business has an important role to play in transforming our world into a more peaceful, sustainable and equitable global community. Just as business has been a major factor in bringing the arts to greater public appreciation, business can help us know better our interconnection and live with greater respect and care for one another. I hope Ruder Finn can continue to lead this effort.

The Internet has given us more resources, and globalization, with its benefits and disadvantages, has multiplied and made concrete the many ways in which our lives now intersect. But there has been an unexpected consequence of globalization. We can no longer look the other way. Just as we cannot ignore an ailing part of our body, we must all attend to those ailing parts of the world body, still struggling with conflict, poverty and other unnecessary forms of suffering. The cultivation of a connectedness consciousness may help us do just this.