INTRODUCTION Disciplines in dispute—history, peace studies, and the pursuit of peace

Christian Philip Peterson, Michael Loadenthal, and William M. Knoblauch

During the fall of 2016, one of the editors of this anthology, a historian, dined with two social scientists. Their conversation proceeded pleasantly enough until one of the social scientists asked, provocatively: Why would anyone read works by historians who produced “unsophisticated” narratives that almost always lacked basic quantitative analysis. The historian responded by asking who actually understood the jargon of social scientific articles that more often than not overlooked the complexities of historical causation. “How could anyone take the assumptions like parsimony or the ‘rational actor’ theory seriously,” the historian quipped, “when they produce theories that usually collapse under the weight of close historical scrutiny and prove so bad at predicting the future?” “Come on,” the social scientists responded, “historians use the inevitable limits of theory building to hide their ignorance of quantitative methods and other kinds of ‘sophisticated’ analysis. Please tell us: What have historians written that will actually help people make this world a better place?” The posing of such a question would no doubt raise the eyebrows of peace historians such as Lawrence Wittner, Sandi E. Cooper, and Ralph Summy, who have dedicated their lives to producing scholarship designed to help human beings end the scourge of war and reduce the many different forms of violence. These scholars might also point out that, before them, posthumous peace historians such as Merle Curti and Charles Chatfield used their writings to highlight the follies of “realistic” wars and inspire people not to fall victim to “blind patriotism” or unquestioning obedience to authority.1 Yet, for all of the stereotypes it contains, the conversation described above does reveal an important reality: There remains a divide between historians who write about peace and the social scientists who work in the discipline of Peace and Conflict Studies (PCS) or Peace Studies (PS). Instead of seeing this gulf as unbridgeable, the editors of this anthology have compiled a collection of essays designed to produce a fruitful interdisciplinary dialogue about the global history of peace since 1750. Recognizing the inherent interdisciplinary nature of peace research, we have compiled essays from authors in the fields of history, popular culture, philosophy, literature, art, sociology, anthropology, gender studies, and diplomacy. Cross- ing the divide between historical inquiry and Peace Studies scholarship, this collection hopes to provide both traditional aspects of peace promotion as well as more expansive analyses of peace through other lenses, including specific regional investigations (the Middle East,

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Africa, Latin America, etc.) and PS. Loosely chronological in organization, this work’s thematic categories promise to help readers and scholars better grasp the unique challenges of achieving peace from different scholarly perspectives. The interdisciplinary nature of this volume offers a broader view of peace issues than many existing works that largely focus on topics such as peacebuilding, state building, and/or conflict resolution in individual countries or regions.2 Our approach builds upon previous scholarly analyses of peace promotion in the non-Western world since 1750, to advance the important point that those struggling for peace have often conceived of their efforts in international terms and worked to forge transitional connections with each other.3 However, because this collection is interdisciplinary in nature, some clarification of definitions is in order—for example, with the use of terms such as “transnational” and “internationalism.” Throughout, we adhere to diplomatic historian Akira Iriye’s definition of “international- ism” as attempts to reformulate foreign and domestic policies in ways designed to overcome hatred of “the other” so as to “establish a more interdependent, cooperative, and mutu ally tolerant international community.” The4 term “transnational,” then, refers to the “contacts, exchanges, discourses,” and information flows that “cut across or permeate at least two nation-states” at various intensities.5 Readers will also encounter the term “civil society” at various points in this volume, a term best understood as the“un-coerced association between the individual and the state in which people undertake . . . collective action” in pursuit of non-violent goals that are mostly “independent from government and the market.” To promote peace, civil society actors strive to protect citizens against governmental violence and hold non-governmental and state actors accountable for their behavior. Besides helping with the delivery of needed services, they also help build “social cohesion” or “social capital” between different societal actors and promote dialogue between citizens of different groups, as well as the state.6 However unfamiliar some readers might be with such terms, they should remember that the interdisciplinary nature of this collection promises to play a role in helping historians of peace and PS social scientists find more common ground in their work.7 If scholars keep an open mind, they can then draw on these essays to write fuller, richer works on the subject of peace, regardless of discipline. To understand why this is so, the next two sections will explain how PS scholars and historians have typically written about the subject of peace in different ways.

Peace and Conflict Studies or Peace Studies The academic study of peace—commonly referred to as Peace Studies (PS) or Peace and Conflict Studies (PCS)—has made key contributions to a variety of interrelated fields over the last century. While the pursuit of peace has ancient roots and histories, as a discernable aim of scholarship, it dates back to the period following World War I (1914–1918), gaining wider support and interest following the end of World War II (1945). Since 2000, this interest has taken great strides towards institutionalization through the establishment and expansion of curricula, peace studies programs in post-secondary education, academic journals and books, and the rise of academic associations and conferences focused on the promotion of peace.8 What began as a reflective process—one that aimed to understand the geopolitical constitution that led to inter-state armed conflict—has since blossomed into a global interdisciplinary field of scholarship and practice. This collection highlights contemporary schools in this field, investigating the history of peace scholarship from various perspectives

2 INTRODUCTION and through multiple cases studies. Prior to surveying the contributions contained in this collection, it is beneficial to provide an overview of the salient discourses in the field, broken down into four key areas: 1. understanding violence through a multi-layered and structured analysis, 2. critiquing negative peace while promoting positive peace (both defined below), 3. the promotion of peace education and research, and, 4. the promotion of non-violence, social change, and the prefiguration of a more peaceful world. One of the primary contributions of PS in its most fundamental form is the field’s focus on developing a nuanced and contextually embedded model for understanding the variety of forms violence takes, from the direct (e.g., war, physical assaults) to the structural (e.g., poverty, racism). In this manner, conflict is separated from violence as the former is not inherently problematic while the latter is to be avoided. Marie Dugan, in her “Nested Theory of Conflict” asserts this point, writing, “Conflict, as most conflict theorists and resolvers agree, is neither good nor bad but simply an integral part of life, necessary for growth and change (and for deterioration and regression). ”9 PS has often embraced spaces created by conflict while functioning to mitigate, confront, and transform systems of inequality, marginalization, and coercion that manifest violently. Furthermore, this layered analysis of violence often directly investigates the causes of violent conflict, separating the influences into segments such as the individual, group, state, inter-state, and the more generalized ideological, social, and economic.10 After disassociating violence from conflict, PS has championed a structural analysis that privileges a multi-layered engagement with the topic.11 This is not to claim a monopoly on such an approach to the field of PS as many disciplines such as Anthropology,12 Psychology,13 and continental philosophy14 have utilized complementary methods, even developing textbook-length volumes focused on these matters.15 Sometimes this structural, layered analysis has separated violence into its ideological social and economic factors,16 or differentiated between its deployment and its causes,17 while others have focused more on the varied actors in a conflict, and the diverse strata they inhabit; examples include “system level,” “supra-national,” and “regional”18 or “system,” “sub-system,” “relational,” and “issues-specific” strata.19 One feature that these interdisciplinary conversations share is a clear separation between the violence which is commonly acknowledged and that which is more clandestine and pervasive. Johan Galtung famously modeled this as distinguishing between “direct violence,” “structural violence,”20 and “cultural violence,”21 while philo- sophers such as Slavoj Žižek have chosen other labels such as “subjective” versus “objective”22 or “direct” and “indirect.”23 Throughout the various definitions and models present, PS clearly advances an understanding of violence that is bifurcated between that which “kills slowly [versus] violence that kills quickly . . . violence that is anonymous [versus] violence that has an author.”24 One can also credit PS with the advancement of this scholarship which has become increasingly mainstreamed into political and policy levels. For example, the government of the Canadian province of Newfoundland and Labrador hosts a website that defines “violence and abuse,” and while the model put forth does not function on a structural level, it does identify nine “distinct forms of violence and abuse” separated as physical violence, sexual violence, emotional violence, psychological violence, spiritual violence, cultural violence, verbal abuse, financial abuse, and neglect.25 Not only does the inclusion of cul- tural violence signal the influence of peace theorists such as Galtung, but the inclusion of non-physical occurrences shows the influence that the academic field has had on actual State practice.

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A secondary contribution of PS to the discourse of conflict and violence can be found in the distinction made between “negative peace” and “positive peace.” The terminology is rooted (again) in the work of Galtung and emerged from this theorist’s above-mentioned distinctions between structural and actualized forms of violence.26 This notion similarly recalls the realist/Realpolitik notion of peace, located in “whenever war or other direct forms of organized state violence are absent.”27 For Galtung, the goal of simply negating the forms of violence that one can observe such as war, violent crime, interpersonal assault, etc., constitutes a negative form of peace through simply seeking to avoid violence. Instead, Galtung promotes the expansion of peace, and the conditions necessary for the positive advancement of the socio-political order and the spreading of justice. Such a positive peace approach seeks to develop justice within areas commonly ignored in more normative discourses such as environmental justice, economic justice, and social justice. In other words, “positive peace is when social justice has replaced structural violence.”28 Such a shift towards positive peace may not inherently avoid conflict—as conflict can be separated from violence—but nevertheless seeks to utilize such occurrences towards positive, constructive, and even utopian ends. As one PS theorist remarked in 1980, “conflict can be a useful and necessary tool for establishing and maintaining peace . . . [as] humans do not avoid violence by reducing conflict.”29 Galtung remarks that in this manner, positive peace can be thought of “as a synonym for all other good things in the world community, particularly cooperation and integration between human groups, with less emphasis on the absence of violence.”30 Within the Galtungian model, the notion of peace is inclusive of both the “internal states of a human being” as well as “the absence of organized collective violence . . . between major human groups; particularly nations, but also between classes, racial and ethnic groups.”31 In contrast, Galtung explains negative peace as the “absence of violence, absence of war” when compared to the positive.32 This can be understood as the difference between diagnosing and treating disease (i.e., negative peace) and the promotion of health (i.e., positive peace). Such a focus on critiquing negative peace has often come from an analysis of the methods used to address violent, inter and intra-State conflict such as military interventionism, policing, anti-war social movements, international law, arms control and disarmament. Critiquing these negative approaches, Galtung argues that the creation of peace must be pursued through peaceful, cooperative, inclusive, sustainable, prefigurative praxis (defined here as the embodiment of theory, and/or the melding of ideas and practice)—and not through military might and statecraft.33 While these negative pursuits can help to reduce the frequency of war and other forms of violent conflict, they do not serve to develop the con- ditions for a harmonious society that meets the psychological, social, emotional, spiritual, and material needs of the population. For the wider field, the promotion of positive peace includes the advancement of human rights and dignity, democratic values and participation, reconciliation, and the pursuit of economic, ecological, and spiritual well-being. PS helps to correct for the largely negative peace approach promoted in complementary fields such as Political Science, International Relations, Security Studies, Economics, and Government. While Galtung is not without his critics, his notion of promoting peace versus preventing violence has gained prominence since its original introduction.34 A third key contribution of the PS approach has been the articulation and advancement of peace education, peace research, and PS as a scholarly pursuit both within the Ivory Tower of academia as well as through community programs and pre-collegiate education— although this involves exposing students to the history, theory, and practices of violence

4 INTRODUCTION prevention and response.35 The field then is far broader than simply relaying on the articulation of personal and interpersonal skills such as dispute resolution and peer medi- ation. PS as a field of study is inherently interdisciplinary (some would say trans-disciplinary) borrowing frequently from Sociology, Anthropology, Psychology, Communication, Economics, International Studies, Security Studies, International Relations, Political Science, Government, Gender Studies, Law, Philosophy, Ethics and more.36 This genealogy is both a product of the field’s development and an intentional intervention that allows scholars to move beyond the “narrow aspect of human behavior . . . that most naturally fits its own methodological approaches and assumption.”37 The field of PS is also multi- directional as some theorists focus on a variety of approaches including history, philosophy, and rhetoric while others take on a more practice-based approach, focusing on alternative dispute resolution, mediation, arbitration, policy negotiation, or post-conflict governing. Within these formulations, the field can function through both normative and analytic frames; seeking to establish both what peace is and what peacemaking looks like (i.e., normative), as well as how one establishes peace, where one observes the causes and effects of non-peace, etc. (i.e., analytic). This multiplicity of approaches, disciplines and perspectives has led some to question whether PS is a discipline at all,38 though proponents respond that this is far from the only interdisciplinary area of study with varied methodologies, assumptions and precise subjects.39 Scholars are quick to point out that as a knowledge trajectory, “precursors of PS, peace education and peace research go back to ancient times . . . [yet] the systematic practice of peace education began in the twentieth century.”40 This increased institutionalization of the field has been led by both educators and students, the latter of which began to organize on- campus clubs following the US Civil War (1861–1865).41 In its more contemporary forms, many are familiar with programs to counter bullying or gun violence, yet far fewer seem knowledgeable about the systematic investigation of peace as practice and pedagogy. While the prevention of bullying or gun violence is important (negative) peace work, the peace research emphasis has been the advancement of knowledge suited for the building of a better future, not simply a less violent present. In this manner, peace education is a forward thinking, proscriptive approach that seeks to understand not only the factors that can help to reduce violent conflict (i.e., increase negative peace), but also to construct a more justice-centric world beyond the rejection of violence. As practice, peace education, and research can also serve to establish peace as a structure and process that seeks to “institutionalize the values of peace and the presence of social justice, participation and diversity.”42 In this manner, the practice of studying peace can help to disseminate peaceful interactions that lead to peaceful practices, patterns, and finally, peaceful structures.43 Finally, Galtung and co-author Charles Webel caution proponents of PS that the advancement of the field will likely encounter more resistance in the future within the ranks of academia. Such a development will probably take place because as PS scholars become more critical of the status quo and encourage both structural and practice-base change, they will inevitably challenge established interests and institutional power structures. As Galtung and Webel note, “other academic disciplines may react [to attacks on the status quo] by trying to marginalize, eliminate, prevent and/or co-opt PS . . . claim[ing] that PS is superfluous, since the existing disciplines already allegedly cover what PS teaches.”44 Such a move will likely face (non-violent) resistance from proponents of peace scholarship as the field struggles to maintain its core values and create new inroads in an international climate with greater precarity, insecurity, and interactivity than ever before.

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Non-violence is often portrayed as a manner of living, a way of life, or a philosophical perspective, though a grand contribution of PS is the introduction of pacifism and non- violence as analytical perspectives, political projects, and methodologies for intervention in diverse contexts from communication45 to political mobilization.46 The field has also helped to destabilize the binary portrayal of violence v. non-violence, and instead to offer these labels as values within a wider continuum of action.47 PS has also helped to challenge the linkage between pacifist non-violence and a religious approach, offering secular, revolutionary, and anti-occupation models for such forms of collective action.48 This diverse presentation has helped to advance the notion that non-violence is a potent and forceful revolutionary strategy for social change—sometimes called the pragmatic tradition of non-violence—that can maintain its avoidance of violence and coercion.49 This perspective supports the claim that non-violent action is active (i.e., not passive) and proscriptive, not simply a critique of violent forms. These suggestive positions have taken a variety of forms in terms of practice and approach, including those advocating personal transformation, promoting non-violent communication, encouraging consumer practices, integrating religious approaches, and critiquing normative social practices from the eating of non-human animals to the use of automobiles as a form of mass transportation. At the level of mitigating war and inter-state conflicts, a non-violent approach derived from PS has been used to advocate for civilian- based defense (CBD) including community-level structures and techniques that could be mobilized to resist foreign invasion or occupation, or the rise of authoritarian domestic governments.50 Other complementary approaches, such as unarmed civilian peacekeeping (UCP) have been used widely in conflict as well as in post-conflict zones to help minimize civilian causalities such as in the conflict in Colombia (between Marxist guerrillas and right- wing paramilitaries), and the ongoing conflict in the Occupied Palestinian Territories. PS has also served to increase the acknowledgment and study of such methods that have all too often been historically ignored in the face of more well-known violent modes of politics and social change. This excavation serves a key function of identifying how non- violent means can be used in the resolution of social, political, and other conflicts. Peace educator and pacifist advocate Colman McCarthy makes this point clear when he argues: “If we do not teach our children peace, someone else will teach them violence.”51 Nearly seventy years before McCarthy’s warning, another scholar, Richard Gregg, explored the ways in which forms of mass non-violent action interacted with State-level change.52 In this manner, Gregg addresses this historical gap, writing:

There have been many instances of successful use of non-violent resistance in different countries and at different times. As the taste of historians inclines more towards politics and wars, these other events have received but slight attention at their hands, and the records of many of them have been lost.53

Gregg’s point has been made clearer by recent investigations by scholars and long-term political projects (e.g., Albert Einstein Institute, International Center on Non-violent Conflict) which seek to elevate non-violent forms of political action as viable modes of scholarship, politics, and social movement strategies. Books on the topic of non-violent social change (i.e., non-violent civil resistance studies) seem to be on the rapid upsurge, and the inclusion of such modes of action within larger discussions of violent social change (e.g., The Arab Spring) is becoming both more accepted and expected.54 This has included the elevation of discussions of a peace-based praxis that

6 INTRODUCTION marries the theory and practice of peace with notions of political mobilization, structure, tactics, and rhetoric. This tendency notes that for practitioners of non-violence, there is a crucial interdependence of means and ends as “a goal of peace can only be achieved by the use of nonviolence.”55 Peace practitioners have helped to reframe nonviolence as a proactive— not simply reactive—force for change.56 Famed proponents including Mohandas Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. (both featured in chapters of this collection) encouraged forceful yet nonviolent modes of struggle, not only in response to colonialism and systematic racism, but also to set forth a vision of society separated from the ills they sought to confront. Finally, the strategic use of nonviolence as a guideline for social change has persistently challenged the notion that nonviolence “does not work,” implying that violence has a higher rate of success and thus legitimacy. While certainly it is simple to illustrate failed attempts to challenge violence with nonviolence, it is equally simple to demonstrate the vast majority of occurrences when violence failed to meet a community’s needs. If the goal is to annihilate one’s enemy, destroy their infrastructure, starve their people and destabilize their economy, then violence has a great success rate. However, as PS is prefigurative, utopian, and principally focused on creating positive peace, its practitioners view the track record for violent, militaristic success as quite bleak. This argument represents a key paradigm shift put forth by peace theorists, one that seeks to reimage what constitutes successful conflict. According to a groundbreaking quantitative study by Erica Chenoweth and Maria Stephan, campaigns for social change that employ nonviolent means were nearly twice as likely to succeed as violent campaigns.57 These nonviolent, civil resistance movements tend to be more diverse and inclusive, and they serve to usher in more justice-centric post-conflict societies and thus prevent cyclical paths towards recurring conflict. The field of PS has rapidly expanded in the last century, accelerating its pace in the period following World War II. While this often amorphous field has diverse academic footprints, its contributions to notions of structural violence, critiquing negative peace, understanding the role of education and research, and advancing nonviolence as a means of social change should stand out as exemplary. These areas have sought to create borders for the field, but also to critique prominent socio-political paradigms entrenched in the related fields of Political Science, International Relations, and others. Here we can see, for example, the contributions of PS to critiques of liberal approaches to peace that embrace the importing of democratic structures, market-centric economic reforms, the rule of law, and the development of institutions (see below for more on this topic).58 A PS approach has been keenly positioned to critique such programs for their lack of local leadership, their Eurocentrism, and their emphases on hierarchical institution building and the creation of entrenched bureaucracies. While not the focus of the preceding discussion, it can be argued that the mainstreaming of PS has also facilitated more mainstream critiques of these forms of liberalism and (Western) State-driven conflict interventions. It is at this juncture—precisely where policy meets critique—that PS is most vibrant. In its rejection of such values, a PS framework seeks to be visionary, prefigurative, and situated in an ethic of justice. This is often through Galtung’s identification of structural forms of violence and his rejection of negative forms of peace, and the success of such an approach cannot be overstated. Students of global politics must be keenly aware of the failing record of violent, military approaches to the resolution of conflicts. As cities are leveled, populations decimated, and economies stunted, generals and Presidents claim victory as their enemy is vanquished. However, what is the real victory of ending a military conflict simply to begin a more entrenched conflict of resource scarcity, insecurity, disease, and infrastructure failure?

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PS bravely questions the notion of victory while seeking to proscribe a better way. Perhaps the real value of the field is its openness; its methodological, ideological, and strategic plurality and willingness to embrace change. Perhaps the history of PS is best understood as the history of attempts to create a new world in the shell of the old.

Historiography of peace scholarship The methodologies and publications of social scientists in PS lead us now to the issue of where the writings of historians fit into this field; historians including Charles Howlett and Lawrence Wittner, for example, would place their works firmly within PS.59 In large measure, this identification can be traced back to the writings of historian Merle Curti and the work of the Peace History Society (PHS). During his long and productive career at the Univers- ity of Wisconsin-Madison, Curti became “the most important figure to work at channeling scholarship into the quest for world peace” with the publication of works including The American Peace Crusade, 1815–1860 (1929), Bryan and World Peace (1931), and Peace or War: The American Struggle, 1636–1936 (1937).60 When paired with his advising of numerous historians such as Arthur Ekrich, Jr., Curti’s scholarship played a crucial role in establishing the history of peace as a legitimate field of study that addresses issues as diverse as the causes of war, the contours of peace activism, and the prevention of wars. He also demonstrated importance of examining “the efforts of conscientious objectors and passive nonresisters,” as well as “direction action nonviolence.”61 Instead of confining his work to the myriad of diplomatic initiatives designed to promote peace, Curti used Peace or War to strengthen the idea that historians could not fully explain the failures of peace activism without paying close attention to the social and economic factors that led to wars and other forms of state violence. By making these contributions, Curti did much to legitimate the idea that scholarship could play an important role in helping private citizens and policymakers forge a more humane and peaceful world.62 Curti also helped establish the PHS, an organization that came together in 1964 when “nearly fifty historians” attended an “informal meeting” at the annual American Historical Association (OAH) in Philadelphia, PA. Well aware that social scientists had created the Peace Research Institute in Washington, D.C. and Center for Research on Conflict Resolution at the University of Michigan, Curti urged historians not to avoid the subject of peace just so they could maintain their scholarly detachment from the events that they wrote about. “Was it really appropriate to separate ourselves as scholars from ourselves as human beings,” he asked the audience, when “scholarly study might help in understanding the problems of war and peace.” These sorts of arguments resulted in the creation of a committee that founded the Conference on Peace Research in History (CPRH), which held its first joint session with the OAH in 1966. CPRH members renamed their organization PHS in 1994.63 The PHS has made important contributions to the study of peace. Committed to “making peace research relevant to scholarly disciplines, policymakers, and their own societies,” the PHS has sponsored numerous panels at the annual meetings of the Organization of American Historians (OAH), the American Military Institute, the Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations (SHAFR), and the International Peace Research Association (IPRA). Besides sponsoring conferences, the PHS created the Peace History Commission (PHC) and made it a part of the IPRA. The PHC built on the previous efforts of the PHS and worked to create a “worldwide network of peace-oriented historians” by helping Americans attend conferences in countries such as Hungary, South Africa, and Austria.64

8 INTRODUCTION

The PHS has also played an important role in encouraging the production of inter- disciplinary peace scholarship, such as The Garland Library of War and Peace. Published between 1972 and 1977, this edited collection of 360 titles consists of works that cover topics such as peace activism, biography, political science, art, and international law. The PHS has also sponsored notable scholarship, such as Harold Josephson’s Biographical Dictionary of Modern Peace Leaders (1985), and Charles DeBendetti’s Peace and Heroes in Twentieth Century America (1988). Recognizing the growing need to examine peace from a global perspective, PHS helped produce the Peace/Mir anthology in 1994, an edited volume consisting of primary documents related to the subject of peace that US and Soviet academics produced after a series of meetings during the early 1990s.65 Perhaps the most important work that the PHS has published is the journal Peace & Change. The PHS (then CPRH) founded Peace & Change in 1972 as an interdisciplinary publication featuring cutting-edge peace scholarship from authors in numerous disci- plines. In 1978, this journal “acquired the co-sponsorship of the Consortium of Peace Research, Education, and Development (COPRED),” a group that “had more of a social science orientation” than PHS. COPRED merged with the Peace Studies Association in 2001 to become the Peace and Justice Studies Association (PJSA), an organization that still sponsors Peace & Change as its official journal.66 Despite its interdisciplinary nature, Peace & Change commonly contains more articles written by historians than scholars from other disciplines, a fact that raises the question: Where does peace history fit into the field of PS? Instead of submitting their articles to this journal, social scientists have more frequently published in the Journal of Conflict Resolution or Journal of Peace Research, two publications that privilege analytical explanations of why conflicts take place. As of 2017, the PJSA is debating whether or not to continue sponsoring Peace & Change as its official journal given the growing historical orientation of the publication.67

Seeking peace between disciplines The growing divide between PS social scientists and peace historians reflects an ongoing debate about how best to define the field of peace history. As the previous sections show, a PS perspective can be critical of historical scholarship for its over-emphasis on wars and conflict—not a surprising trend considering that the field was founded on the study of warfare, but a valid criticism for those who feel such works reinforce a culture of conflict. Conversely, historians might counter that without continued examinations of the historical and structural root causes of conflict, enduring peace cannot be possible. These debates intensified in the 1980s with the “Cultural Turn” in the historical field, which firmly rooted literary criticism into increasingly interdisciplinary historical practices. Here, the term “narrative” deserves special definition: The simulation or illustrating of past events in ways that both advance an argument with evidence and engage the reader.68 Historians are cog- nizant that the construction of narratives relies on literary structures borrowed from fiction—and by definition such an approach often relies on the use of conflict—a problematic reality for those studying peace, and appropriately this is the focus of Carolyn Dekker’s chapter in this collection. A full dissection of narrative tropes lay beyond the scope of this collection; however, the infusion of literary criticism on the field left it languishing in self- criticism and skepticism, until—by the end of the 1990s—works emerged that in effect dealt with the “Cultural Turn” by explaining how historians strove to achieve, as best as possible, objectivity within the narrative form.69

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This reliance on conflict and narrative structures was put to the test in 1989 with the fall of the Berlin Wall and, two years later, the disillusion of the Soviet Union and seemingly the Cold War. Viewing what then-President George H. W. Bush deemed a “new world order,” one seemingly devoid of ideological conflict or a global struggle for economic and political hegemony, the political scientist Francis Fukuyama used his 1989 essay “The End of History?” and 1992 book The End of History and the Last Man to argue that the triumph of Western liberal democracy represented the endpoint of humanity’s ideological evolution and final form of government. Fukuyama did not view his “End of History” argument as an eschatological or apocalyptic pronouncement. In his estimation, as more and more peoples across the planet organized themselves along Western liberal democratic lines, conflict would subside as they increasingly occupied themselves with accumulating material goods and finding individual fulfilment. Such proclamations, of course, were short sighted—conflict surely continues throughout the world. However, such heady sentiments attest to the reliance on narrative forms of conflict and struggle that dominate historical interpretation.70 Also in 1989, historians writing about peace took notice when the political scientist Martin Caedel attempted to make a distinction between pacifism and “pacific-ism.” Whereas the former term refers to the rejection of “all wars,” the latter encompasses the steps various actors have taken to minimize violence and wars while acknowledging the possibility of waging defensive wars as a last resort—a view that David Cortright has called “pragmatic pacifism.”71 In 1991, historians at an international conference for peace decided to define peace history as the study of “ideas, individuals, and organizations concerned with the promotion of peace and prevention of war and international conflict.” Four years later, Ralph Summy and Malcolm Saunders narrowed this definition to works that examine “the history of peace advocacy and peace movements.” In May 1995, Gerlof Homan adopted a similar definition in his important article “Peace History: A Bibliographic Overview.”72 Many scholars have expressed their dislike of Summy and Saunder’s definitions of peace history, such as Lawrence Wittner, who argued that “peace history is the study for the prerequisites for peace,” not just “peace advocacy and movements.”73 Some scholars have attempted to create more detailed and nuanced definitions of peace history. For example, in 2008 Charles Howlett and Robbie Libermann borrowed from the writings of Jeffrey Kimball and divided this term into the following three categories: 1) Conflict Management; 2) Social Reform; and 3) World Order Transformation. The term Conflict Management refers to “efforts to achieve peace” such as arbitration, negotiation and international law, arms control and disarmament, whereas Social Reform “involves movements that sought to change political and economic structures” in ways that promoted peace. The idea of World Order Transformation “incorporates attempts to create [a] world order transformation, better economic and environmental relationships, and a common feeling of security.”74 Other scholars have offered more pithy definitions, especially when writing for general audiences. In a piece for the AHA publication Perspectives on History in 2013, Charles Howlett argued that “peace history . . . seeks to inform publics concerning the causes of war while highlighting the efforts of those whose attempts have been directed at peaceful coexistence in an inter - dependent global setting.”75 Even when offering their own definitions, some authors have expressed reservations about defining “peace history” too narrowly so as not to overlook the wide variety of steps that actors have taken to reduce violence.76 The debates about defining the term peace history have paid dividends. During the past thirty years, historians have done a much better job of analyzing women’s efforts on behalf of peace, as well as the study of the use of art and images to promote peace, the transnational

10 INTRODUCTION dimensions of peace activism, and examining topics such as humanitarian interventions, just war, and the use of international law to promote peace.77 They have also carried out a wide variety of efforts on the behalf of peace education.78 Despite these accomplishments, historians have been less successful in overcoming their often ambivalent relationship with the theory- building and social scientific methods of PS scholars. Charles Chatfield identified this general unease in his description of the field of peace history in 2005 when he praised historians who had employed the “social mobilization approach” to improve their analyses of “peace and antiwar movements.” Yet, he also urged historians to make their work more “scientific” by incorporating insights from “conflict resolution” and related theories that social scientists exploit. By engaging in more “dialogue with international social scientists,” he argues, historians of peace could reach beyond the confines of “descriptive, narrative history” and help build “broad hypotheses about the historical dynamics of peace and war” commonplace among social scientists.79 In general, historians writing about peace have remained skeptical about embracing theory building approaches for a fundamental reason: It runs against the grain of their discipline. Most historians have reservations about treating the subjects of conflict resolution, peacebuilding, and peace promotion as scientific enterprises or case studies capable of generating objective solutions widely applicable to violent conflicts around the world. Put simply, most historians are skeptical that “types” of actors, such as “rational actors,” can be relied upon to act in predictable ways.80 To elucidate this predisposition, consider the insights of historian John Lewis Gaddis writing about the methodological differences between historians and social scientists. He argued that social scientists’ belief in identifying independent and dependent variables ran against historical methodology. For Gaddis, the extent to which these scholars employ “working rules” of human behavior such as parsimony, “rational choice assumptions,” and “structural functionalism” to devise theories capable of predicting the future and offering solutions to problems across time and space were anathema to historical methods. Primarily interested in confirming or refuting hypotheses, social scientists tend to “embed narratives within generalizations” and work toward building universally applicable generalizations for “all time,” a process Gaddis calls “general particularization.”81 Many historians find this approach problematic because its quest for “universal applicability” might fail to “acknowledge that different cultures . . . and individuals respond to similar situations in different ways.”82 It’s a point that many PS scholars will take issue with, precisely because historians have done a poor job of distinguishing between historical methodology and requisite descriptions of the past that, all too often, act as “history.” 83 These distinctions will no doubt raise the hackles of many PS scholars, and likely many will continue to view the work of historians as less “scientific” and less intellectually rigorous than their own.84 At least in part, this view stems from a belief that most historians rely too much on “qualitative” analysis that employs “judgment, perception, [and] intuition” over “strict standards” of proof such as statistical analysis or other “empirical procedures of verification.”85 Indeed, as this anthology will show, many in the field of PS focus on using “econometric” and “quantitative modelling methodologies . . . to measure variations and constituent elements of “conflict, war, and peace.”86 But, as Gaddis would counter-argue, such approaches can never “once and for all” establish “the causes of any past event”—a position that for the most part fails to resonate with scholars nobly searching for definitive ways to end ongoing violent conflicts and build peaceful societies.87 Herein lies the divide between the fields of peace scholarship. Methodologies differ, both within the social sciences themselves, and between these PS scholars and historians.

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Some social scientists in PS and other fields would explain how they have already digested criticisms similar to those of Gaddis and produced a wide array of case studies that employ both “qualitative” and “quantitative” analysis to build better models and theories.88 Others might argue that the interdisciplinary nature of their work already utilizes historical insights when appropriate, such as in examining the role religion and culture can play in promoting peace.89 As one social scientist rebuffed, the field of PS “is firmly rooted in a critical inter - pretation of historical events” and that “PS scholars utilize a historical approach to understand[ing] the current state of affairs, the roots of conflicts, actor positionalities/stand - points, and what has been tried and tested in the past,” although this pursuit is “largely . . . unacknowledged.”90 Still others in the fields of Conflict Analysis and International Development would contend that they already employ historical analysis in their scholarly writings and in their recommendations about how best to promote peace in a given country. The peace scholar Eleanor O’ Gorman reinforces this very point when she notes that the “agenda for conflict prevention and peacebuilding through development policies and programs” cannot advance unless scholars pay even closer attention to the history of “conflict- affected” countries and the preferences of local actors.91 Others argue that of course non-governmental organizations (NGOs) cannot carry out effective “peacebuilding” or “conflict prevention” interventions without a solid understanding of the context in which they operate and forging good working relations with local organizations—tasks that will suffer without solid historical understanding and reasoning.92 We, the editors who reside in different academic camps, acknowledge that these criticisms exist on all sides. Numerous historians who write about peace, for example, already maintain deep reservations about making their work more “social scientific,” (i.e., in including more statistical data). For example, Sandi E. Cooper has praised how historians have used the narrative form to describe the efforts of peace activists, noting how they “put a human face on a subject too often treated by abstraction in political science.”93 Additionally, David Cortright has asserted that any effective description of peacebuilding or activism must allow for the contingency of historical change and agency of individual human beings, not just “rational actors.” Along similar lines, while Charles Chatfield advised historians to make more use of social scientific theories in their work, he also asked them not to lose sight of how individuals can change the world for the better, noting that “dissent is evidence of real choices in history.” Because “specific historic choices are still open to interpretation,” he writes, “the process of [explaining] past decision making” should count more than building a science of peace.94 Finally, David S. Patterson critiqued the field of PS for focusing “almost exclusively on current issues without historical context” even as he argued that historians could do more to “incorporate . . . social science typologies and methodologies . . . into their courses and scholarship.”95 The importance that historians place on contingent causation, building narratives for non-specialists to elucidate the past, and individual agency, helps explain why so many of them have focused on evaluating the evolution and effectiveness of peace activism within specific historical contexts and, for example, not just accounting for the role “Civil Society” can play in peace promotion; on elucidating the lives of individual peace activists, not rational actors; on identifying what ended violence in a specific historical context, not what will work across the world. It also helps account for the importance that many of them have placed on describing endeavors to promote peace such as arms control negotiations, arbitration plans, and the development of international law and institutions. Uneasy with the methods that PS social scientists often employ, most historians have shied away from

12 INTRODUCTION building the theories and models governmental and non-governmental actors can draw on in the field when they engage in their peacebuilding work.96 Thus, the fields of PS and peace history remain inextricably divided by methodological tension. Nevertheless, this anthology aims to bring them closer together, not just acknowledge the strengths and weaknesses of the various approaches to writing about peace. To achieve this goal, scholars on all sides need to move beyond the confines of their particular scholarly methodologies and talk to each other about how to write the best works on the subject of peace as possible.

Productive dialogue Where do these insights leave historians who write about peace and PS social scientists? On one level, the divergent views expressed above reinforce the call for these scholars to participate in vigorous intellectual exchanges with each other, especially on issues as controversial as nations’ “Responsibility to Protect (R2P),” the global refugee crisis, and how to promote peace in an age of terrorism.97 Such a task has also become more relevant than ever given the growing importance that PS scholars have placed on challenging inadequacies of the Western-oriented liberal peace paradigm.98 This approach reflects a widespread (although contested), paradigmatic belief in democratic peace theory, as well as the idea that the best way to promote peace involves linking the tasks of security, democratization, the rule of law, free market capitalist development (aka a neoliberal approach), and respect for human rights (especially basic civil liberties), all within the framework of building a modern, law-abiding state.99 As Oliver Richmond and others have used specific case studies to show, this liberal approach to peace promotion fails more often than it succeeds. At least in part, these failures reflect the tendency of international elites, including those from non-government and donor groups, to place more emphasis on following the blueprint of creating an “externally designed” Western-style nation state than taking advantage of local (non-Western) knowledge, customs, and traditions to build a peaceful order.100 By following a liberal blueprint for peace, those striving for peace behave in ways that are “not responsive enough to the demands made upon [them] in the sphere of social welfare, justice, culture and identity.”101 To address the limitations of the liberal peace paradigm (i.e., post-liberal forms of peace), Richmond and other scholars such as Daniel Philpott have called for the adoption of “positive hybrid” forms of peace promotion and/or a “strategic” approach to peacebuilding. Instead of following the liberal blueprint for peace, these approaches in effect stress the importance of having international actors respect “local agency” and draw on local populations’ “long-standing knowledge, legitimacy, and capacity” when working to forge peaceful orders. More to the point, under the “positive hybrid” approach, local and international actors would engage in a dialogue that produced a “legitimate peace” through consensually designed “state formation, statebuilding, peacebuilding, and peace formation” practices.102 The attention that Richmond and others have placed on developing “strategic” forms of peace promotion and “positive hybrid forms” of peace creates an opportunity: For historians writing about peace and PS social scientists to collaborate. Both approaches require the search for blueprints whose implementation across the world will help end the scourge of violent conflicts, and a recognition of the complexities of local history, customs, culture, and agency.103 While probably not their intention, Richmond and Pogodda in effect spoke of this potential area of collaboration between social scientists and historians when they criticized international “peace formation” and “civil society” actors for often lacking appreciation of:

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the ways in which pre-existing social networks, political systems, party systems, kinship systems, custom and social hierarchies may act to sanction those involved openly in peace formation. Similarly, there is little understanding of how peace formation agencies emerge and are able to operate, given their embeddedness in these . . . local [and] transnational . . . [peace] frameworks.104

Like Gemma Van der Haar, Richmond expanded on this point when he described how external actors often lack the “contextual knowledge” needed to carry out the state formation process so central to building peaceful societies. “Detached from its customary, historical and cultural context,” he writes, institution building has “often empowered predatory elites, rendering the state a machinery for the abuse of elites’ power rather than the institutional manifestation of a [workable] social contract.”105 By following recommendations such as Richmond’s, peace scholars can draw on the strengths of their unique disciplines in ways that better serve the cause of peace promotion. For example, historians can help provide the background necessary for international actors to work with locals in the most productive ways possible, while PS social scientists—after referencing the work of historians or in carrying out their own historical research—can test how their theories and recommendations based on case studies play out in different countries or under different conditions.106 Instead of passing off history as unsophisticated, “subjective,” or “qualitative” storytelling, they could draw on the arguments of historians to balance their structural analyses with insights about the important roles that individuals and contingent developments play in the success or failure of peace promotion efforts.107 Social scientists can even draw on insights about the roles art and literature play in peace promotion. Conversely, instead of drowning in contingency or the unpredictability of human behavior, historians should strengthen their studies by better incorporating the patterns in peace promotion that social scientists have discerned through rigorous quantitative analyses and other theoretical insights. They might also find creative ways to supplement their “qualitative” analysis with “quantitative” methods such as statistical analysis. Even if PS social scientists and historians never settle all of their methodological differences, their joint participation in a broader dialogue than currently exists promises to help them write fuller, richer works about peace. In particular, such a dialogue could help build what one author has called a compelling and “coherent counter-narrative” that places the study of peace rather than war at the center of international history.108 Accomplishing this goal will not be easy; the general public is far more fascinated with military history and war- fare than peace practices.109 Many International Relations (IR) scholars remain wedded to analyzing global affairs through the prism of realism. Despite taking a number of differ - ent forms, realism in IR theory starts from the assumption that states run by self-interested human beings must use whatever power they can muster to pursue their national interests and protect themselves in a dangerous, anarchical world.110 The subject of peace has not interested historians of US foreign relations as much as describing the various ways that Americans have pursued their country’s “national interest” and combatting suggestions that the United States stands out as a “peace-loving” nation committed to spreading liberal- democratic ideals across the planet.111 Even if public and academic interest in the subjects of conflict and power show few signs of abating, by grappling with the arguments of the essays in this anthology, historians of peace and PS social scientists can accomplish a goal that scholars such as Merle Curti and Johan Galtung would approve: The creation of analytically rigorous yet readable works that highlight best ways to promote peace without

14 INTRODUCTION forgetting that human beings shape their world through their own unique choices and actions.112

Organization of anthology The process of a developing fruitful interdisciplinary dialogue between PS social scientists and historians writing about peace begins with a section titled “Paradigms of peace.” In the introductory chapter, Philosopher Casey Rentmeester examines Western concepts of peace that date back to the Enlightenment. While some critics might see this perspective as Euro- centric (a criticism the editors acknowledge), Rentmeester’s focus makes sense because most state-driven methods to promote peace during the nineteenth century were based on European ideas as applied to diplomacy; so, such a philosophical background is essential for understanding modern state-driven peace activism since 1750. Like other scholars, Rentmeester identifies Immanuel Kant as the instrumental thinker whose ideas played an important role in shaping the liberal approaches to promoting peace that shaped the behavior of activists during the “long” nineteenth century, as well as the development of international institutions such as the League of Nations and United Nations. Next, Charles Howlett and Christian Philip Peterson jointly explore how industrialization and globalization influenced internal efforts to promote peace during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. They devote considerable attention to how private citizens, including women, attempted to use liberal forms of peace promotion (such as international law and the process of arbitration) to promote peace during an era of modernity. They also explain why many peace activists began to place more emphasis on transforming domestic orders in ways that promoted “positive” forms of peace after World War I (1914–1918). Not privileging the efforts of Europeans and Americans alone, Peterson and Howlett pay close attention to the steps that government officials and private citizens in Latin America, Japan, and other parts of the world took to promote peace before the “Great War” began. In the third chapter, Waqar Zaidi explores the relationship between the ideas of libe- ral internationalism and pacifism in the promotion of peace. After tracing the origins of liberal internationalism back to theorists such as Adam Smith and Jeremy Bentham, he describes how this line of thought evolved from the beginning of the twentieth century through World War II, especially in Great Britain and the United States. By taking his analysis up to the early twenty-first century, Zaidi makes important arguments about how the waging of the Cold War—the economic and ideological conflict between the United States and the Soviet Union in the latter half of the twentieth century—contributed to a growing divide between the ideas of liberal internationalism and pacifism. His insights also deserve attention because they help explain why the liberal peace paradigm became such an influential international blueprint for peace after the Cold War ended. Michael Loadenthal’s chapter concludes this section by examining the ways in which the “traditions of the critical left” have influenced how PS scholars tend to conceive of the “relationship between structure and violence.” By taking this approach, Loadenthal raises the important question of whether or not “violent inequality is inherent in the state.” In his view, given the ways that the modern state facilitates class oppression and hidden forms of violence, scholars should “begin developing positive-trending solutions” that promote a “just peace”—a task that historians can make their own contributions to by elucidating how human beings view the proper peaceful ordering of the world and have experienced government authority.

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The authors in Part II, “Icons of Peace,” explore the complexities of how now iconic individuals have influenced the global struggle for peace. Anna Hamling begins with an examination of three supremely important figures in the history of world peace: Russian writer Lev Nikolaevicz Tolstoy, Indian nationalist Mahatma Gandhi, and Pakistani preacher of non-violence Abdul Ghaffar Khan. Hamling’s comparative treatment shows the complex relationship between religious faith, national self-determination, and (curiously) the use of contemporary media to spread ideas and build movements. Her chapter is nicely com- plemented by Irina Gordeeva’s in-depth examination of the movement Tolstoy inspired. Drawing on research in Russian archives, Gordeeva shows how the steps that Tolstoyians took to promote peace, which included efforts to forge transnational connections with Western peace groups, so challenged a repressive Bolshevik regime as to incur state-sponsored repression. Clinging to their ideals of non-violence, Tolstoyians experienced a curious tension between their conviction of anti-political self-improvement and the desire to challenge the Soviet government’s repression. Kevin Grimm’s chapter details the life of perhaps the best- known peace activist in American History: Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. More than just an overview of MLK’s life and work, Grimm’s analysis “explores the numerous political, religious, intellectual, and philosophical concepts that comprised King’s non-violent approach to civic action.” Grimm’s conclusions will inform and hopefully inspire peace activists interested in the global roots of non-violent activism. Next, chapters by Simon Hall and Jo Grant each examine icons of peace who have attempted to change the world for the better through the force of ideas. The latter chapter describes Bertrand Russell (1872–1970) and Julian Huxley’s (1887–1975) efforts as public intellectuals. As Grant recounts, Russell and Huxley drew on the ideals of liberal inter- nationalism to challenge the militarism of the emerging Cold War, with each defining the term “peace” in ways that undermined the appeal of communist ideology across the globe. Uninterested in offering another treatment of the stereotyped 1960s antiwar protester (long- haired, white, countercultural), Hall instead shows the extent to which the Black Power movement worked to end the conflict in Vietnam. Frequently identifying more closely with the repressed peoples of Vietnam than with white America at home, the major Black Power groups—including the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), the Black Panther Party (BPP), the League of Revolutionary Black Workers,” and more—all “denounced America’s military intervention in Southeast Asia.” In tracing their efforts and mindset, Hall reveals the dynamics of identity politics in a diverse antiwar movement. The final two essays in Part II examine the contributions of one revered icon of peace and perhaps a lesser known one. First, Jusuf Salih’s describes the role that Ibrahim Rugova played in the struggle for Kosovo’s independence. He offers important insights about what a people can accomplish using peaceful methods when faced with an adversary that can pursue its goals through military force. Then, Sabelo J. Ndlovu-Gatsheni offers a theoretical analysis of the South African peace icon Nelson Mandela, and in particular his philosophy of liberation. Mandela differed from other twentieth-century African nationalists in that he stayed true to his non-violent ethos and embrace of democratic values—a commitment so auspicious that it ushered in a new paradigm of peace, one that did not vilify previous oppressors, but worked to include them in a truly inclusive democratic process. Part III explores the “Cultural and religious dimensions of peace.” Joshua W. Jeffery begins by examining how World War I impacted the Stone-Campbell Movement in the United States. His insights help demonstrate the repression that private citizens often face when they challenge governments in a time of war. He also reminds readers that authors

16 INTRODUCTION often cannot write about peace activism effectively without dealing with the subject of war. Carolyn Dekker then examines the unique role that literature has played in both conveying peace and in promoting it to readers who have little firsthand familiarity with the ravages of nuclear war or the issues of racial inequality. Her analysis encompasses antinuclear tracts of the early Cold War up to contemporary slam poetry and beyond. In doing so, Dekker exposes an interesting tension between peace as a concept and as a narrative construct: The former requires a lack of conflict, while the latter necessitates conflict for the sake of story. This chapter will leave readers contemplating: With this dichotomy, can peace be successfully written about without the guise of conflict as a backdrop? Shifting to European peace activism, Benita Blessing investigates the role that postwar film played in constructing the memories and lessons for East Germans. Through a close study of films produced in the rubble of postwar Berlin, Blessing identifies how antifascist films conveyed “images of bands of children [that] served both to chastise adults for allowing children to become part of the war” as well as “frighten viewers with the aim of forcing them to take notice of young people’s war-induced misery.” In short, much East German postwar film was not always just entertainment; it could be an attempt to induce positive peace in the hopes of preventing a future conflict. In the final two chapters of this section, Abel Rios demonstrates the unique ways that Seventh-day Adventists worked to promote peace in the United States during the late nineteenth century, especially their opposition to the Spanish–American War of 1898. He illuminates why Adventists had much more success in protecting their non-combatant status during the US Civil War than in convincing the United States not to fight Spain in 1898. Asif Majid concludes Part III with a treatment of how Egyptians used graffiti during the revolution of 2011 to help topple the longstanding authoritarian ruler Hosni Mubarak. He makes a strong case that the use of graffiti represents an “improvisatory” form of protest that helped a diverse array of Egyptians voice their desire for “economic, political, and social justice.” His analysis also reveals the pitfalls of calling the Arab Spring a “Twitter” or “Facebook” revolution because, as Majid makes clear, Egyptians did not see themselves as revolting just to become another Western country. Instead, they carried out a “home- grown” revolution that pursued goals and utilized images that only make sense in the context of Egypt’s unique history and culture. In this way, Majid offers an excellent example of hybrid peace scholarship in action. Part IV examines perhaps the greatest global threat to positive peace in world history: Nuclear war. Dario Fazzi opens this section with a new take on the nuclear freeze campaign. Frequently assessed by historians as a national campaign focused on changing US politics, Fazzi shows the transnational connections made between freeze promoters of numerous antinuclear organizations and their European counterparts. In a similar vein, Kyle Harvey shows an all-too-often unexamined aspect of this movement in the South Pacific. Australian and Micronesian antinuclear activists feared nuclear war, and struggled to reach nuclear nations of the northern hemisphere, frequently adopting the tactics and rhetoric of the nuclear freeze campaign and its counterparts. Jay Bergman’s examination of the life and efforts of the famed peace activist and Soviet dissident Andrei Sakharov may prove provocative to some. After serving as one of the scientists who helped create the Soviet hydrogen bomb, Sakharov won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1975 for his tireless efforts on behalf of peace, human rights, and arms control. After being exiled to the city of Gorky from 1980 to 1986 for challenging the Soviet military campaign in Afghanistan, Sakharov became a famous figure for his struggle to bring liberal-

17 CHRISTIAN PHILIP PETERSON ET AL. democratic government into the Soviet Union. Throughout, Bergman reinforces the point that Sakharov logically and willfully endorsed the creation of hydrogen bombs, as well as the rational use of war and power to achieve limited political ends. When Sakharov opposed controversial nuclear programs—such as Ronald Reagan’s Strategic Defense Initiative—it was not in the blind pursuit of a nuclear free world, but in the search for stability. Whether readers view the Sakharov of this chapter as pragmatic or misguided may well depend on their own personal convictions. Paul Rubinson concludes this section with a look at a less typical kind of activist—the Cold War scientist. Driven in part by guilt at having constructed the bomb, and empowered by their expert knowledge of this new, fascinating, and devastating weapon, Cold War scientists engaged in politics in bold and new ways. Arguably, their activism was a well- intentioned devil’s bargain. By leaving behind the laboratory and exposing their views to the press and world leaders, scientists traded away the façade of objectivity for publicity. As Rubinson makes clear, this was especially true in the case of scientists turned activists from organizations such as the Union of Concerned Scientists. Whatever their efficacy, Rubinson’s chapter shows that peace activism can take many forms. Part V focuses specifically on the issue of violence and the nation state. In the first chapter, Patrick Van Inwegen raises important questions about the effectiveness of peaceful and violent protest. Drawing on his deep understanding of Irish history, he (perhaps contro - versially) argues that the non-violent methods of protest such as “boycotts, protests, petitions, noncooperation and [the] mobilization of alternative governments” played a more important role in the creation of an independent Ireland in 1922 than violent rebellion against British rule. Moving from Europe to Latin America, Saul Rodriguez documents the efforts to promote peace and build a fairer, more democratic society in Colombia. His analysis hopefully helps readers better understand the importance of building both “positive” and “negative” peace; as he contends, a true peace will continue to elude Colombia so long as illegal and rebel groups remain at war with the state. Colombia may never become a peace - ful society until the government and civil society actors carry out a variety of positive reforms that help build a law-abiding state and bring about a fairer distribution of wealth. Next is an examination of one of “the most brutal and protracted armed conflicts of the twentieth century,” the Lebanese Civil War (1975–1990). In this chapter, Magnus Dølerud looks at the conflict in Lebanon. He shows the tensions that can arise within a culturally and religious diverse government and society. A classic example of a “consociational democracy” (a government comprised of numerous and distinct ethnic, religious, and cultural conclaves), Lebanon’ fifteen-year civil war was frequently opposed by Lebanese citizens themselves, who did not support a continuation of conflict—an analysis that brings into question the ideas behind the liberal paradigm for peace. In their pursuit of negative peace in a society plagued by systematic violence, Lebanese activists pushed for positive peace initiatives to reform the structures that might fuel future conflict. The next two chapters take divergent looks at one of the most pressing, ongoing violent struggles of the past century: The Arab–Israeli conflict. First, Galia Golan provides a detailed overview of the roots of this conflict, specifically beginning with the late 1960s and the onset of violence. Interestingly, her proposed solution to achieve peace differs from the next chapter by Michael J. Carpenter, who favors guidance not from statesmen or political leaders, but “people power.” Carpenter’s insights about how the behavior of Palestinian “elites” has undermined grassroots Palestinian peace activism helps demonstrate some of the inherent limitations of a “top-down” investigation. He also evaluates how well

18 INTRODUCTION

“civil resistance” has promoted peace practices—an argument that urges scholars to pay close attention to the cultural, political, and historical context in which human beings operate. The last two chapters of this section explore the subject of peace in Africa and Asia from different perspectives. Tony Tai-Ting Liu offers a historical analysis of why the People’s Republic of China (PRC–Communist China) and Taiwan (Republic of China– ROC) have managed to maintain mostly peaceful relations with each other despite Beijing’s claim that it exercises sovereignty over the ROC. He argues that the PRC and ROC need to engage in consistent dialogue now more than ever to avert future violent conflicts, given the Democratic Progressive Party’s growing emphasis on securing official Taiwanese independence. Arnim Langer and Leila Demarset employ quantitative analysis to explore how violent conflicts in Africa have evolved since the end of the Cold War. The patterns that they elucidate from this analysis once again demonstrate the limitations of the liberal peace paradigm, while their insights about the importance of understanding the history and traditions of a country before promoting peace there emphasize the need for historians and social scientists to collaborate in the task of peace promotion. The authors in Part VI analyze the transnational and international dimensions of peace from numerous angles. Ke Ren looks at the organization and operations of the International Peace Campaign (IPC) (also known as the Rassemblement universel pour la Paix or RUP) and its China National Committee both during the 1930s and the first years of the Second Sino– Japanese War (1937–1945). After offering important insights about the global dimensions of peace activism during this period, Ren exposes the difficulties involved in building a trans - national movement for peace, especially in attempts to shape the behavior of governments determined to wage war. From there, Chris Dixon and Jon Piccini’s account of protest against the US war in Vietnam provides an example of how authors can effectively balance national and transnational perspectives when describing international movements for peace. Their contribution also reminds readers that the process of globalization could either help to cohere or divide protest and peace movements long before the era of smart phones and social media. Pauline Ketelaars and Ione Corbeel provide a sociological perspective to the antiwar protest movement against the Second Iraq War of the early 2000s. This chapter examines the characteristic makeup of two categories of protesters—those who protested to prevent the Iraqi invasion, and those who protested for an end to the war once it was underway— in a specific control group, the residents of Belgium. The authors expertly utilize a quantitative, social science methodology to question common assumptions about the traits, backgrounds, and influences of contemporary peace activists; in the process, they not only reveal a compelling conclusion, but expose to lay readers the methodology of social science when applied to peace. The following part of this section examines the subject of women and peace from transnational and international perspectives. Joanna Tague recounts how the American Janet Mondlane worked to secure the independence of Mozambique and promote peace after marrying the founder of the Mozambique Liberation Front Eduardo Mondlane. This fascinating story takes readers from the American Midwest to the United Nations and then on to East Africa. Instead of focusing on structural forces or macro issues, she uses Janet’s life to highlight the human dimensions of peace activism and the pivotal role individuals can play in the quest for social justice. Resisting the temptation to romanticize Janet’s life, Tague documents the difficulties that this woman faced, including her experiences with the waging of war after peaceful efforts to secure Mozambican independence had failed.

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The next two chapters explore the subject of women and peace from a social science perspective. Judith Oleson provides a brief and direct interpretation of feminist approaches to peacekeeping, all within an internationalist framework. In examining the creation and implementation of United Nations Security Resolution 1325, Oleson shows the deep divisions between male-dominated methods of peacekeeping, and a much-needed inclusion of feminist perspectives to achieve long-lasting peace. As Oleson demonstrates, UN Resolution 1325 demanded “a gender unit at the Department of Peacekeeping,” one requiring that “women and men benefit equally from post-conflict reconstruction activities,” and even called for “the specific protection of women and girls from sexual and gender-based violence, including in post-conflict settings like refugee camps.” Oleson’s assessment of the results of this resolution, and the success of its implementation, nicely sets up the next contribution by Natalie W. Romeri-Lewis, Sarah F. Brown, and Benjamin T. White. Together, their chapter agrees that women have overwhelmingly been excluded from formal processes of Peace and Security. In their methodology, they utilize data to create new and informative tables and scales that reveal what many might simply expect: That not only are women excluded from a male-dominated peace-building process, but that in examples where their inclusion is valued, peace and non-violence is left unbroken for longer periods of time. This chapter is a fine example for historians of peace, PS scholars, or humanitarian activists unfamiliar with the data-driven approaches of social scientists. Finally, the collection concludes not by looking back, but by looking forward. This final chapter is by Linda Groff, a futurist and PS scholar with an impressive track record. In it Dr. Groff provides an ambitious framework—one that acknowledges, but builds upon the work by Johan Galtung—on how to achieve peace in the modern age. This final chapter is both interesting in its proposals, and thought provoking as a counterpoint to the other various disciplines that have preceded it in this collection. In conclusion, the editors hope that readers of this collection will take away a diversity of scholarly perspectives as well as regional and temporal case studies on attempts to achieve peace around the world since 1750. The limitations of any such collection are obvious to anyone ambitious enough to undertake it. Knowing full well that the collection has some gaps and limitations, we hope that readers will find it to be a noble first step towards a more inclusive understanding of what constitutes peace in our time. In a world still beset with poverty, hatred, and violence, historians and social scientists have every reason to work together in ways that produce the intellectually sophisticated, yet readable works that can inform and perhaps even inspire human beings to challenge the violence that they encounter and carry out the most effective peacebuilding missions possible across the globe. We cannot assume that the world will become a more a tolerant and humane place, given the contingency of historical change and the inability of technological advances to stop “civilized” human beings—including those living in Western liberal democratic countries—from inflicting violence on one another. But in the face of this reality, we also refuse to end our efforts to inform ourselves, and others, who are interested in pursuing peace in our time.113

Notes 1 Lawrence S. Wittner, “Combining Work as an Historian and Activist: A Personal Account,” Peace & Change 32, no. 2 (2007): 128–133; Lawrence S. Wittner, “Merle Curti and the Development of Peace History,” Peace & Change 23, no. 1 (1998): 74–82; Lawrence S. Wittner, “Peace Movements and Foreign Policy: The Challenge to Diplomatic Historians,” Diplomatic History 11 (October 1987): 365; Charles F. Howlett, “Merle Curti and the Significance of Peace Research in American

20 INTRODUCTION

History,” Peace & Change 25, no. 4 (2000): 431–466; Sandi E. Cooper, “Commentary: The Subversive Power of Peace History,” Peace & Change 20, no. 1 (1995): 60–62. See also Merle Curti, “Reflections on the Genesis and Growth of Peace History,” Peace & Change 11, no. 2 (1985): 1–18; Sandi E. Cooper, Patriotic Pacifism: Waging War on War in Europe, 1815–1914 (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1991); Charles Chatfield and Peter Van den Dungen, eds., Peace Movements and Political Cultures (Knoxville, TS: University of Tennessee Press, 1988); and Ralph Summy and Malcolm Saunders, The Australian Peace Movement: A Short History (Canberra: Peace Research Centre, Australian National University, 1986). 2 This study will define the term “peacebuilding” as focusing on “transforming relationships and structures in society to decrease the likelihood of future conflicts.” As Craig Zelizer and Valerie Oliphant point out, the process of peacebuilding can consist of “dialogue processes, reconciliation efforts, and creating or rebuilding institutions. Zelizer and Oliphant also offer cogent definitions of terms such as peacekeeping, peacemaking, and conflict resolution. See Craig Zelizer and Valerie Oliphant, “Introduction to Integrated Peacebuilding,” in Integrated Peacebuilding: Innovative Approaches to Transforming Conflict, ed. Craig Zelizer (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 2013). Oliver P. Richmond defines statebuilding as working to create “prosperous and stable liberal states framed by a ‘good governance’ agenda via externalized strategies of intervention.” See Richmond, Peace: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2014), 102. See also Oliver P. Richmond and Jason Frank, Liberal Peace Transition: Between Statebuilding and Peacebuilding (Edinburgh: Edinburgh Press), 181–185. For definitions of other terms such as security-building, democracy-building, nation-building, market-building, see Peter Wallensteen, “Strategic Peacebuilding: Concepts and Challenges,” in Strategies of Peace: Transforming Conflict in a Violent World, ed. Daniel E. Phillipott and Gerard F. Powers (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2016). 3 John Gittings, The Glorious Art of Peace: From the Iliad to Iraq (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2012). David Cortright, Peace: A History of Movements and Ideas (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2013); Peter N. Stearns, Peace in World History (New York: Routledge, 2014); Antony Adolph, Peace: A World History (New York: Jon Wiley & Sons, 2013); and Nigel Young, ed., The Oxford International Encyclopedia of Peace (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2010). Oliver P. Richmond, Jasmin Ramovic, and Sandra Pogodda recently put out an edited work that offers “disciplinary perspectives” on peace and “regional perspectives” that cover the subject of peace from a global perspective. See Oliver P. Richmond, Jasmin Ramovic, and Sandra Pogodda, eds., The Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to Peace (Palgrave Macmillan, 2016). 4 Bruce Mazlih and Akira Iriye, eds., The Global History Reader (London and New York: Routledge, 2005), 191. 5 We employ a definition of “transnational” derived from the writings of Robert Brier. See “Entangled Protest: Dissent and the Transnational History of the 1970s and 1980s,” in Entangled Protest: Transnational Approaches to the History of Dissent in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, ed. Rober Brier (Osnabrück: Fibre, 2013), 11–42. See also Kacper Szulecki, “Freedom and Peace are Indivisible,” 202–203 in Entangled Protest; Akira Iriye, Global and Transnational History: The Past, Present, and Future (Basingstoke, UK; New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013); Iriye, ed., Global Interdependence: The World after 1945 (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 2014). See also Margaret E. Keck and Kathryn Sikkink, Activists Beyond Borders: Advocacy Networks in International Politics (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1998), 12, 9, 18, 23–24, 28, 30, 37; Kathryn Sikkink, “Human Rights, Principle Issue- Networks, and Sovereignty in Latin America,” International Organization 47, no. 3 (Summer 1993): 411–441; and Kathryn Sikkink, “The Power of Principled Ideas: Human Rights Policies in the United States and Western Europe,” in Ideas and Foreign Policy: Beliefs, Institutions, and Political Change, ed. Judith Goldstein and Robert O. Keohane (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1993), 139–172. For insights on debates about the “local” and “global” dynamics of historical change when employing transnational history frameworks, see Padraic Kenney, “Electromagnetic Forces and Radio Waves or Does Transnational History Actually Happen?” in Entangled Protest, 43–52; and Timothy S. Brown, “‘1968’ East and West: Divided Germany as a Case Study in Transnational History,” American Historical Review (February 2009): 69–96, especially 69–72. 6 Peter van Tuijil, “Civil Society and the Power to Build Peaceful and Inclusive Societies,” in Civil Society, Peace and Power, ed. David Cortright, Melanie Greenberg, and Laurel Stone (Lanham, MD: Rowan & Littlefied, 2016), 3–4. See also Michael Edwards, Oxford Handbook of Civil Society (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2013); John Keane, ed. Civil Society and the State: New European

21 CHRISTIAN PHILIP PETERSON ET AL.

Perspectives (London: Verso, 1988); and Steven M Delue, Political Thinking, Political Theory, and Civil Society (New York: Longman, 2002). For debates about the existence of a global civil society, see John Keane, Global Civil Society? (London: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 175–176; Jessica Matthews, “Power Shift,” Foreign Affairs (Jan/Feb 1997): 50–66; and Mary Kaldor, Global Civil Society: An Answer to War (London: Blackwell Press, 2003). 7 Wolfram Wette analyzes why German historians and social scientists encountered troubles finding common ground in their “historical peace research.” This work will give historians and social scientists fresh insights on how to overcome these divides. See Wette, “The Functions of Historical Peace Research,” Peace & Change 17 (January 1992), 102–128. 8 Charles Webel and Jorgen Johansen, “Introduction,” in Peace and Conflict Studies: A Reader, ed. Charles Webel and Jorgen Johansen, 1st ed. (New York: Routledge, 2011), 1. 9 “A Nested Theory of Conflict,” Leadership Journal: Women in Leadership 1 (1996): 12. 10 This precise breakdown is adopted by: David P. Barash and Charles P. Webel, Peace and Conflict Studies, 3rd ed. (Los Angeles, CA: SAGE, 2013), 127–246. 11 Johan Galtung and Tord Höivik, “Structural and Direct Violence: A Note on Operationalization,” Journal of Peace Research 8, no. 1 (January 1, 1971): 73–76; Dugan, “A Nested Theory of Conflict”; John W. Burton, Violence Explained: The Sources of Conflict, Violence and Crime and Their Prevention (Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 1997); Alfred S. Kamoet, “Actors in Conflict and Conflict Mapping,” in Peace and Conflict Studies in a Global Context, ed. P. Godfrey Okoth (Kakamega, Kenya: Published by Masinde Muliro University of Science and Technology Press in collaboration with Scholarly Open Press, 2008), 74–86; Alfred S. Kamoet, “Causes and Types of Conflict,” in Peace and Conflict Studies in a Global Context, ed. P. Godfrey Okoth (Kakamega, Kenya: Published by Masinde Muliro University of Science and Technology Press in collaboration with Scholarly Open Press, 2008), 59–73; Charles Webel and Jorgen Johansen, eds., Peace and Conflict Studies: A Reader, 1st ed. (New York, NY: Routledge, 2011), Part 3; Barash and Webel, Peace and Conflict Studies, Chapter 10; Richard E. Rubenstein, Resolving Structural Conflicts: How Violent Systems Can Be Transformed (New York, NY: Routledge, 2017). 12 Paul Farmer, “On Suffering and Structural Violence: A View from Below,” Daedalus 125, no. 1 (Winter 1996): 261–283; Nancy Scheper-Hughes and Philippe Bourgois, “Making Sense of Violence,” in Violence in War and Peace: An Anthology, ed. Nancy Scheper-Hughes and Philippe Bourgois (Oxford, UK: Blackwell, 2003), 1–31; Paul Farmer, “An Anthropology of Structural Violence,” Current Anthropology 45, no. 3 (June 1, 2004): 305–325; Nancy Scheper-Hughes, “Dangerous and Endangered Youth: Social Structures and Determinants of Violence,” Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 1036 (December 2004): 13–46. 13 Sigmund Freud, “Why War?,” in The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, ed. and trans. James Strachey (New York: The Hogarth Press, reprinted by permission of the Random House and Basic Books, 1932), 273–287; Daniel J. Christie, “Reducing Direct and Structural Violence: The Human Needs Theory,” Peace and Conflict: Journal of Peace Psychology 3, no. 4 (December 1, 1997): 315–332; Marc Pilisuk, “The Hidden Structure of Contemporary Violence,” Peace and Conflict: Journal of Peace Psychology 4, no. 3 (September 1, 1998): 197–216; Milton Schwebel, “Job Insecurity as Structural Violence: Implications for Destructive Intergroup Conflict,” Peace and Conflict: Journal of Peace Psychology 3, no. 4 (December 1, 1997): 333–351; Rachel M. MacNair, The Psychology of Peace: An Introduction, 2nd ed. (Santa Barbara, CA: Praeger, 2011); Craig M. Zelizer and Ling Cui, “Conflict: Levels of Analysis,” in The Encyclopedia of Peace Psychology (New York: Blackwell, 2011). 14 Slavoj Žižek, Violence: Six Sideways Reflections (London: Macmillan, 2008). 15 Nancy Scheper-Hughes and Philippe Bourgois, eds., Violence in War and Peace: An Anthology (Oxford, UK: Blackwell, 2003); Alex Alvarez and Ronet Bachman, Violence: The Enduring Problem, 3rd ed. (Los Angeles, CA: SAGE Publications, 2017). 16 Barash and Webel, Peace and Conflict Studies, 225–248. 17 Kamoet, “Causes and Types of Conflict”; Webel and Johansen, Peace and Conflict Studies, 153–199. 18 Kamoet, “Actors in Conflict and Conflict Mapping.” 19 Dugan, “A Nested Theory of Conflict.” 20 Johan Galtung, “Violence, Peace, and Peace Research,” Journal of Peace Research 6 (January 1969): 167–191. 21 Johan Galtung, “Cultural Violence,” Journal of Peace Research 27, no. 3 (1990): 291–305.

22 INTRODUCTION

22 Žižek, Violence. 23 David Hicks, “Understanding the Field,” in Education for Peace, ed. David Hicks (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1988), 3–19. 24 Galtung and Höivik, “Structural and Direct Violence,” 173. 25 Government of Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada, “Defining Violence and Abuse,” Governmental, Violence Prevention Initiative, (March 7, 2014), www.gov.nl.ca/VPI/types/. 26 Johan Galtung, “An Editorial,” Journal of Peace Research 1, no. 1 (March 1, 1964): 1–4. 27 Barash and Webel, Peace and Conflict Studies, 6. 28 Alicia Cabezudo and Magnus Haavelsrud, “Rethinking Peace Education,” in Handbook of Peace and Conflict Studies, ed. Charles Webel and Johan Galtung, 1st ed. (New York: Routledge, 2007), 280. 29 M. Andrew Murray, Peace and Conflict Studies as Applied Liberal Arts: A Theoretical Framework for Curriculum Development (Juniata College: The Baker Institute, 1981), 77. 30 Johan Galtung, Theories of Peace: A Synthetic Approach to Peace Thinking (International Peace Research Institute, Oslo, 1967), 12; accessed March 22, 2018, www.transcend.org/files/Galtung_Book_ unpub_Theories_of_Peace_-_A_Synthetic_Approach_to_Peace_Thinking_1967.pdf. 31 Ibid. 32 Galtung, “An Editorial,” 2. 33 Johan Galtung, Peace by Peaceful Means: Peace and Conflict, Development and Civilization, 1st ed. (Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE, 1996). 34 Kenneth E. Boulding, “Twelve Friendly Quarrels with Johan Galtung,” Journal of Peace Research 14 (March 1977): 75–86. 35 Collins K. Matemba, “Strategies for Peace and Conflict Studies,” in Peace and Conflict Studies in a Global Context, ed. P. Godfrey Okoth (Kakamega, Kenya: Masinde Muliro University of Science and Technology Press, 2008), 43. 36 Chadwick F. Alger, “Peace Studies as a Transdisciplinary Project,” in Handbook of Peace and Conflict Studies, ed. Charles Webel and Johan Galtung, 1st ed. (New York: Routledge, 2007), 299–318. 37 Conrad G. Brunk, “Shaping a Vision: The Nature of Peace Studies,” in Peace and Conflict Studies: A Reader, ed. Charles Webel and Jorgen Johansen, 1st ed. (New York: Routledge, 2011), 11. 38 Alger, “Peace Studies as a Transdisciplinary Project,” 299–301. 39 Brunk, “Shaping a Vision: The Nature of Peace Studies,” 11. 40 Webel and Johansen, Peace and Conflict Studies, 7; See similar statements such as: Barash and Webel, Peace and Conflict Studies, 20; Charles Webel and Johan Galtung, eds., Handbook of Peace and Conflict Studies, 1st ed. (New York: Routledge, 2007), 4. 41 Barash and Webel, Peace and Conflict Studies, 23. 42 Cabezudo and Haavelsrud, “Rethinking Peace Education,” 284. 43 Ibid. 44 Johan Galtung and Charles Webel, “Peace and Conflict Studies: Looking Back, Looking Forward,” in Handbook of Peace and Conflict Studies, ed. Charles Webel and Johan Galtung, 1st ed. (New York: Routledge, 2007), 398. 45 Marshall B. Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life, 2nd ed. (Encinitas, CA: Puddledancer Press, 2003); Judi Morin, Raj Gill, and Lucy Leu, Nonviolent Communication (NVC) Toolkit for Facilitators: Interactive Activities and Awareness Exercises Based on 18 Key Concepts for the Development of NVC Skills and Consciousness (Charleston, SC: BookSurge, 2009). 46 Gene Sharp, Power and Struggle (Boston, MA: Porter Sargent, 1973); Erica Chenoweth and Maria Stephan, Why Civil Resistance Works: The Strategic Logic of Nonviolent Conflict (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2012); Michael Nagler, The Nonviolence Handbook: A Guide for Practical Action (San Francisco, CA: Berrett-Koehler, 2014); Stellan Vinthagen, A Theory of Nonviolent Action: How Civil Resistance Works (London: Zed Books, 2015). 47 Cortright, Peace, 14; and Barash and Webel, Peace and Conflict Studies, 508. 48 Jorgen Johansen, “Nonviolence: More than the Absence of Violence,” in Handbook of Peace and Conflict Studies, ed. Charles Webel and Johan Galtung, 1st ed. (New York: Routledge, 2007), 145. 49 Ibid., 148. 50 Gene Sharp, Civilian-Based Defense: A Post-Military Weapons System (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990). 51 Colman McCarthy, I’d Rather Teach Peace (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2002), 5. 52 Richard B. Gregg, The Power of Non-Violence (Worcestershire, UK: Read Books Ltd, 2013).

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53 Ibid., 1. 54 Nagler, The Nonviolence Handbook; Chenoweth and Stephan, Why Civil Resistance Works; Vinthagen, A Theory of Nonviolent Action; Gene Sharp, From Dictatorship to Democracy: A Conceptual Framework for Liberation (Jackson, TN: The New Press, 2012); Kurt Schock, Civil Resistance Today (Cambridge, UK: Polity, 2015); Sharon Erickson Nepstad, Nonviolent Struggle: Theories, Strategies, and Dynamics (New York: Oxford University Press, 2015); Srdja Popovic and Matthew Miller, Blueprint for Revolution: How to Use Rice Pudding, Lego Men, and Other Nonviolent Techniques to Galvanize Communities, Overthrow Dictators, or Simply Change the World (New York: Spiegel & Grau, 2015); Mark Engler and Paul Engler, This Is an Uprising: How Nonviolent Revolt Is Shaping the Twenty-First Century (New York: Nation Books, 2016). 55 David P. Barash, Approaches to Peace: A Reader in Peace Studies, 3rd ed. (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2013), 242. 56 Barash and Webel, Peace and Conflict Studies, 519. 57 See Chenoweth and Stephan, Why Civil Resistance Works for a more thorough treatment of this argument. 58 Edward Newman, Ronald Paris, and Oliver Richmond, New Perspectives on Liberal Peacebuilding (New York: United Nations University Press, 2009). 59 Charles F. Howlett, “American Peace History since the Vietnam War,” Perspectives on History (December 2010). 60 Wittner, “Merle Curti and the Development of Peace History,” 74. 61 Howlett, “Merle Curti and the Significance of Peace Research in American History,” 454. 62 Wittner, “Merle Curti and the Development of Peace History,” 79; Howlett, “Merle Curti and the Significance of Peace Research in American History,” 440; and Curti, “Reflections on the Genesis and Growth of Peace History,” 11–14. See also Howlett, “America’s Struggle against War: An Historical Approach,” The History Teacher 36 (May 2003): 299–300. 63 Curti, “Reflections on the Genesis and Growth of Peace History,” 17; Howlett, “Merle Curti and the Significance of Peace Research in American History,” 449-450; Lawrence S. Wittner, “The Peace History Society: An Affiliate of the AHA since 1963,” Perspectives on History (November 2009). 64 Wittner, “The Peace History Society”; and Wittner, “The Background and Activities of the Peace History Society,” Passport (January 2010): 28. 65 Harold Josephson, ed., Biographical dictionary of Modern Peace Leaders (Westport, Conn: Greenwood Press, 1985); Charles DeBendetti, Peace and Heroes in Twentieth Century America (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1988); and Lawrence S. Wittner et al., ed., Peace/Mir: An Anthology of Historic Alternatives to War. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1994). See also Wittner, “The Background and Activities of the Peace History Society,” 28–31. 66 Wittner, “The Background and Activities of the Peace History Society,” 28. 67 For description of these journals and others with a “social science orientation,” see Peace and Justice Studies Association,” Relevant Journals in the Field,” accessed 10 May 2017, www.peacejusticestudies.org/resources/journals. The editors received information about the debates within the PJSA via an email from someone working in this organization. 68 John Lewis Gaddis refers to the technique of narrative as “simulating [Gaddis’ italics]” what happened in the past without “necessarily modeling” it. Unlike simulations that “illustrate some specific set of past events,” “a model seeks to show how a system had worked in the past” and “how will work in the future.” See Landscape of History: How Historians Map the Past (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2004), 65. 69 Historians have capably defended themselves against “postmodern” (i.e., “Cultural Turn”) attacks on historical narratives as biased, subjective works that in effect amount to a form of fiction. For examples of these defenses, see Gaddis, Landscape of History, especially 123–128; Joyce Appleby, Lynn Hunt, and Margaret Jacob, Telling the Truth about History (New York: W. W. Norton, 1994); Lynn Hunt, ed., The New Cultural History (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1989), esp. pp. 97–130; and Peter Novick, The Noble Dream: The “Objectivity Question” and the American Historical Profession (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1988). 70 Francis Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man (New York: Avon Books, 1992). See also his earlier article “The End of History?” National Interest (Summer 1989): 3–18. For an excellent commentary on Fukuyama’s “End of History” thesis, see Eliane Glaser, “Bring Back Ideology: Fukuyama’s ‘End of History’ 25 years on,” accessed November 10, 2017, www.theguardian. com/books/2014/mar/21/bring-back-ideology-fukuyama-end-history-25-years-on.

24 INTRODUCTION

71 For commentary on Ceadel’s definitions, especially on the history of the term “pacifism,” see Cortright, Peace, 8–11; and Summy and Saunders, “Why Peace?” 9–10 (The “all wars” quote comes from this source). See also Martin Caedel, Thinking about Peace and War (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1989), 1–4. 72 Ralph Summy and Malcolm Saunders, “Why Peace History?” Peace & Change 20 (January 1995): 8; and Gerlof Hofman, “Peace History: A Bibliographical Overview,” Choice (May 1995): 1408. 73 Wittner, “Commentary: Ten Motives and a Misunderstanding,” Peace & Change 20 (January 1995): 54; Charles Chatfield also criticizes a narrow definition of peace history in “Commentary: Frameworks for the History of Peacemaking,” Peace & Change 20 (January 1995): 46; some writings about peace have added a “personal dimension” to their definitions of peace; see Stearns, Peace and World History, 2; and Adolph, Peace, Introduction. 74 Charles F. Howlett and Robbie Libermann, eds., History of the American Peace Movement from Colonial Times to the Present (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 2008); and Jeffrey Kimball, “Alternatives to War,” OAH Magazine of History 8, no. 3 (1994): 5–9. 75 Howlett, “American Peace History since the Vietnam War.” In this article, Howlett once again drew on Jeffrey Kimball’s definition of peace history. 76 For example, see Cortright, Peace, 33–45; and Caedel, Thinking about War and Peace, 47. 77 For descriptions of these developments, see Howlett, “America’s Struggle against War,” 310–321; Howlett, “American Peace History since the Vietnam War”; Howlett, “The Field and Sources,” OAH Magazine 8, no. 3 (1994): 26–32; Homan, “Peace History,” 1408–1419; and John Gittings, “Peace in History,” in The Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to History, 27–29; and Nilanjana Premaratna and Roland Bleiker, “Arts and Theatre for Peacebuilding,” in The Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to History, 82–94. See also Heather Fryer, Robbie Lieberman, Andrew Barbero, “Introduction: Within the Folds of Complex: Art, Activism, and the Cultural Politics of Peacemaking,” Peace & Change 40 (January 2015): 1–10; Harriet Hyman Alonso, “One Woman’s Journey into the World of Women’s Peace History,” Women’s Studies Quarterly 23 (Fall/Winter 1995): 170–182; and Kevin J. Callahan, “The Past, Present, and Future of Peace History Scholarship: The Example of Women/Gender History,” Peace & Change 34 (April 2009): 107–118. For excellent examples of works on the transnational dimensions of peace activism, see Lawrence S. Wittner, Toward Nuclear Abolition: A History of the World Nuclear Disarmament Movement, 1971 to the Present (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2003); and Christian Philip Peterson, “Changing the World from ‘Below’: U.S. Peace Activists and the Transnational Struggle for Peace and Détente during the 1980s,” Journal of Cold War Studies, forthcoming; and Keith David Watenpaugh, Bread from Stones: The Middle East and the Making of Modern Humanitarianism (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2015); and Timothy Nunan, Humanitarian Invasion: Global Development in Cold War Afghanistan (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2015). 78 For example, see Charles F. Howlett and Ian M. Harris, Books, Not Bombs: Teaching Peace since the Dawn of the Republic (Charlotte, NC: Information Age, 2010); and Charles F. Howlett and Robbie Lieberman, For the People: A Documentary History of the Struggle for Peace and Justice in the United States (Charlotte, NC: Information Age, 2009); and Charles F. Howlett and Scott H. Bennett. Antiwar Dissent and Peace Activism in World War I America: A Documentary Reader (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2014). 79 Charles Chatfield, “Peace History Intra-Abrams: The Field from 1938 through His Work on the Nobel Peace Prize,” Peace & Change 30 (January 2005): 15–17. See also Wittner, “Peace Movements and Foreign Policy,” 359. 80 As John Lewis Gaddis noted, historians have criticized rational choice theorists for failing “to take into account the possibility that the actions of a single individual can, under certain circumstances, shift standards of rationality [Gaddis italics], and hence appropriate behavior, for millions.” This sort of position helps explain why many historians have “come to see the “social sciences” as “irrelevant” to their work. See The Landscape of History, 113–114. 81 The italics in this paragraph also come from John Lewis Gaddis. See Gaddis, The Landscape of History, 53–64, especially 63–64. The international relations scholar Robert Jervis also offers a penetrating critique of social scientific methods. See Jervis, “Theories of International Relations,” in Explaining the History of American Foreign Relations, 3rd ed. (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 20–22.

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82 Gaddis, The Landscape of History, 57. To clarify: In their methodology, historians assume the interconnections among variables and prefer “contingent” to “categorical causation.” Put another way, instead of reducing the number of variables in their analyses or assuming parsimony, they “trace processes from a knowledge of outcomes” to offer “simulations” of the past; in this way, they prefer to “rank” the “relative significance of causes” over presenting architypes such as rational actors. By placing primary importance on building a logical, evidence-based narrative to reveal the “multiple causes” and unique characteristics of any historical conflict, historians frequently draw on different theories and forms of evidence when explaining the past—a task Gaddis calls “particular generalization.” Therefore, instead of worrying about making universal generalizations, building persuasive theories, or creating models, historians prefer to describe particular patterns of change that may or may not hold up across time and space. It’s an unnerving practice for those pursuing peace in our time—we want universally applicable practices—but as Gaddis argues, historians have major reservations about forecasting the future or building models. They are hesitant because their belief in the contingency of historical causation leads them to question theory building approaches that sacrifice historical uniqueness and complexity, as well as human agency. See ibid., 62–66 and 105–106. 83 The italics in this paragraph also come from John Lewis Gaddis. 84 Gaddis, The Landscape of History, 69–76, 91–95 and 108–113. 85 John Lewis Gaddis makes a strong argument against taking the “postmodern” position that “because our [historians’] findings inescapably reflect who we are and where we’ve been, no one of them is more valid than any other.” Even if “no single standard for [historical] objectivity” exists, he observes, people can still gauge how well historians have accomplished their goal of “‘fitting’ representation” to the “reality” of a past that actually existed. In other words, even if historians can never reach a consensus on explaining particular events, some works of history are better than others when judged in terms of logic, evidence employed, use of sources, and thoroughness of explanation. See Gaddis, The Landscape of History, 123 (but all of Chapters 7 and 8 in particular). 86 For a cogent definition of “qualitative approaches” to research, see Dubravka Zarkov and Helen Hintjens, “Conflict, Peace, Security and Development: Theories and Methodologies,” in Conflict, Peace, Security and Development, ed. Dubravka Zarkov and Helen Hintjens (London: Routledge, 2015), 4. For a good account of why many social scientists distrust “qualitative” analysis and subjects, see Peter Wallensteen, “The Growing Peace Research Agenda,” Kroc Institute Occasional Paper #21:OP:4 (December 2001): 14–15. 87 Gaddis, The Landscape of History, 102–103. 88 See Zarkov and Hintjens, “Conflict, Peace, Security and Development,” 4–14. 89 For example of works that explore the role religion can play in promoting peace, see Daniel Philpott, Just and Unjust Peace: A Ethic of Reconciliation (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2012); Denis Dragovic, Religion and Post-Conflict Statebuilding: Roman Catholic and Islamic Sunni Perspectives (Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014); and Caron E. Gentry, “Religion: Peace through Non-Violence in Four Religions,” in The Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to Peace, 168–180. 90 Private email to Christian Philip Peterson, November 7, 2017. The editors of The Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to Peace made a similar point when they wrote, “Through politics, IR (International Relations) and anthropology are crucial, none of them can solve the problem of peace, from international or grassroots positionality, without a historical perspective.” For another description of this view, see Ho-Won Jeong, “Peace Research and International Relations,” in The New Agenda for Peace Research, ed. Ho-Won Jeong (Brookfield, VT: Ashgate, 1999), 5–6. 91 Eleanor O’Gorman, Conflict and Development: Development Matters (London and New York: Zed Books, 2011), 135–136. Caroline Hughes discusses the relationship of peace and Development Studies in her article “Peace and Development Studies,” in Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to Peace,” 139–153. 92 Gemma van deer Haar “International NGOs Addressing Critical Issues in NGO Policy and Practice,” especially 28–333 in Working on Peace-Building and Conflict Prevention, ed. Gema van der Haar and Ben Schennink (Amsterdam: Ingrid Books, 2006), especially Ben Schennink et al., “Working on Peacebuilding and Conflict Prevention: Reflecting on the Findings,” in Working on

26 INTRODUCTION

Peace-Building and Conflict Prevention, ed. Gemma van der Haar and Ben Schennink (Amsterdam: Ingrid Books, 2006), 203–217. 93 “The Peace History Society: A History and Reflection by Some of its Early Leaders,” Peace & Change 34 (April 2009): 123. The Australian social scientist Brian Martin went even further when he argued that “a large amount of research in disciplines such as sociology and political science, and even in interdisciplinary fields such as environmental or women’s studies, is of no interest to anyone but scholars.” He might have also mentioned that the general public ignores the work of most historians even if they employ the narrative approach in their writings rather than analytical descriptions. See Martin, “Researching Nonviolent Action: Past Themes and the Future Possibilities,” Peace & Change 30 (April 2005): 248. 94 Cortright, Peace, 334; and Chatfield, “Commentary Frameworks for the History of Peacemaking,” 43. 95 David S. Patterson, “Commentary: The Dangers of Balkanization,” Peace & Change 20 (January 1995): 80. 96 Nick Cullather offers a compelling explanation of why the growing number of historians of US foreign relations who write about the subject of development have mostly refrained from building useful models for development programs. As he writes, “the historian’s approach is . . . inimical to that of the development specialist, who evaluates past schemes to find strategies that can be lifted from one context and applied beneficially to another.” Instead of elucidating the unique characteristics of development programs and the local context like historians do, he notes, “the specialist must oversimplify the model, overlaying the conflict, bargaining, and multiple perspectives with a single monocausal narrative. This makes good development analysis, but poor history.” See Cullather, “Development and Technopolitics,” in Explaining the History of American Foreign Relations, 112. 97 For works on these subjects, see Samantha Power, Chasing the Flame: One Man’s Fight to Save the World (New York: Penguin Books, 2014); Power, “A Problem from Hell”: America and the Age of Genocide (New York: Basic Books, 2002); Richard H. Cooper and Juliette Voinov Kohler, eds., Responsibility to Protect: The Global Moral Compact for the 21st Century (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009); Peter Gatrell, The Making of the Modern Refugee (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2015 reprint). 98 Oliver P. Richmond and Audra Mitchell, “Introduction—Towards a Post-Liberal Peace: Exploring Hybridity via Everyday Forms of Resistance, Agency, and Autonomy” in Hybrid Forms of Peace: From Everyday Agency to Post-Liberalism, eds. Oliver P. Richmond and Audra Mitchell (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), especially 8–14 and 33–35. Richmond also makes the important observation that there are different interpretations of “liberal peacebuilding” even if many international actors still see it as the best way to promote peace. As he explains, the “conservative” version of this project focuses on “security matters and institutions,” whereas “more emancipatory” thinking of this subject emphasizes developing “civil society and issues related to social justice.” Richmond, “Conclusion: Strategic Peacebuilding beyond the Liberal Peace,” in Strategies of Peace, 353. See also Richmond, The Transformation of Peace (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), Chapters 4 and 5; and “The Problem of Peace: Understanding ‘Liberal Peace,’” in Globalization and Challenges to Building Peace, eds. Ashok Swain, Ramses Amer, and Joakim Ojendal (London: Anthem Press, 2007), 24–32. 99 The democratic peace theory exists in many different forms. On the most basic level, it refers to the idea that liberal democracies are more peaceful than non-democratic regimes and do not wage war on each other. For a defense of this idea, see Michael W. Doyle, “Kant, Liberal Legacies, and Foreign Affairs,” Philosophy and Public Affairs 12 (Summer 1983): 205–235. For a cogent critique of this idea, see Nicholas Rengger, “The Philosophy of Peace,” in The Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to Peace, 50–53; and Jervis, “Theories of International Relations,” 12–14 in Explaining the History of American Foreign Relations. 100 For a description of the liberal peace approach and its shortcomings, see Oliver P. Richmond and Sandra Pogodda, Post-Liberal Peace Transitions: Between Peace Formation and State Formation (Edinburgh: University of Edinburgh Press, 2017); Daniel E. Phillipott and Gerard F. Powers, eds., “Introduction: Searching for a Strategy in the Age of Peacebuilding,” in Strategies of Peace, 5–9; Richmond, Peace, 103–105; Richmond, Liberal Peace Transitions, 181–215; and Susanna Campbell, David Chandler, and Meera Sabarantnam, eds., The Problems and Practices of Peacebuilding (London and New York: Zed Books, 2011). In contrast, Eleanor O’Gorman believes that scholars have

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tended to overstate the weaknesses of “liberal” approaches to peacebuilding. See Gorman, Conflict and Development, 115–136. 101 Oliver P. Richmond, “Peace in International Relations Theory,” in The Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to History, 62. 102 Richmond and Pogodda, Post-Liberal Peace Transitions, 12; Daniel Philpott equates “strategic peacebuilders” to doctors who not only draw on “the liberal tradition of human rights, democracy, free markets, and international law and institutions [,] but also from cultural, religious, and tribal traditions.” See Philpott, “Introduction,” 9 in Strategies of Peace. Richmond also lauds “strategic peacebuilding” in the conclusion of this work for providing the opportunity to “connect the localized conditions and contexts of specific conflicts with the international and institutional aspects of peace that are still being developed.” Richmond, “Conclusion,” 362 in Strategies of Peace. Dubravka Zarkov and Helen Hintjens define “hybrid peace” as the “ interface between internatio- nally supported peace operations and local approaches to peace that may draw on traditional, indigenous, and customary practice.” See Zarkov and Hintjens, “Conflict, Peace, Security, and Development,” 6. 103 Oliver P. Richmond stresses the importance of these considerations, especially the need to preserve local agency, see Richmond, Hybrid Forms of Peace, 19–33; and Richmond, “Peace in International Relations Theory,” in The Palgrave Handbook of Disciplinary and Regional Approaches to History, 62–66. 104 Richmond and Pogodda, Post-Liberal Peace Transitions, 13. 105 Richmond, Post-Liberal Peace Transitions, 22. This point also comes across in Nicole Ball and Tammy Halevy, Making Peace Work: The Role of the International Development Community (Washington, D.C.: Overseas Development Council, 1996), especially 48. 106 This position rejects Wolfam Wette’s observation that historians had become attached to “historiographical methods could not produce knowledge for peace policies.” See Wette, “The Functions of Historical Peace Research,” 105. 107 In 1991, Adam Roberts made the important observation that “in some (but no means all) writings of peace researchers, history gets neglected in favor of analyses of a more structural kind.” Without a good understanding of history, “structural analyses can at times be inadequate, even misleading.” He makes this point by explaining how peace researchers failed to predict and then adequately explain the Iran–Iraq war of the 1980s. See Adam Roberts, “New Peace Studies, Old International Relations,” in The Coming Age of Peace Research: Studies in the Development of a Discipline, ed. Jaap Nobel (Groningen, Netherlands: Styx, 1991), 13–15. For a work that devotes considerable attention to how the discipline of history relates to the various disciplines within social science, see Terrence McDonald, ed., The Historic Turn in the Human Sciences (Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1996. 108 Gittings, “Peace in History,” 27–29. 109 For an influential work that places war at the center of the human experience, see Azar Gat, War in Human Civilization (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006). Even Susan A. Brewer’s critique of US warfighting in effect places war at the center of US history. See Brewer, Why America Fights: Patriotism and War Propaganda from the Philippines to Iraq (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009). 110 For a brief description of the different realist approaches, see Jervis, “Theories of International Relations,” 9–12 in Explaining the History of American Foreign Relations. In these pages, he also makes the critical point that realist thinkers do not necessarily advocate war or other “belligerent policies.” 111 In his well-crafted account of US foreign relations, George S. Herring describes how US policymakers have pursued “a uniquely American brand of practical idealism, conforming to the nation’s professed principles while vigorously pursuing important interests.” The Presidency of Donald Trump may force Herring to qualify this assertion. See Herring, From Colony to Superpower: U.S. Foreign Relations since 1776 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 5. He gives the subject of peace promotion the most attention in Chapter 9, which covers US foreign policy from 1901 to 1913. The most recent addition of Explaining the History of American Foreign Relations devotes almost no attention to the issue of peace. In fact, the word “peace” does not appear in the index. 112 This recommendation has some commonalities with how Terrence McDonald defined the end goal of the “historic turn” in social sciences. In his view, social scientists should turn themselves into “historically self-conscious analysts reconstructing fully contextualized historical actors and

28 INTRODUCTION

representing them in a theoretically sophisticated narrative that takes account of multiple causes and effects.” See McDonald, “Introduction,” 10, inThe Historic Turn in the Human Sciences . Heikki Patomäki has also written about the need for scholars to balance the tasks of building more sophisticated theories and empowering people to change the world in their peace research. See Patomäki, “The Challenge of Critical Theories: Peace Research at the Start of a New Century,” Journal of Peace Research 38 (November 2001): 731–737. 113 See Steven Pinker, The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined (New York: Penguin, 2012). In his review of this work, John Gray demonstrates the limitations of Pinker’s arguments and makes a strong case that human beings are becoming neither “more altruistic” nor “peaceful.” See Gray, “Steven Pinker is Wrong about Violence and War,” The Guardian (March 13, 1985), accessed October 10, 2017, www.theguardian.com/books/2015/mar/13/john-gray-steven- pinker-wrong-violence-war-declining.

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