By Robert C. Koehler
     Boys will be boys. Just ask the president.
At a gathering of Republicans a few days ago, Donald Trump talked nonchalantly about the recent sinking of an apparently unarmed Iranian frigate by the U.S. Navy â in the Indian Ocean, more than 2,000 miles from the Persian Gulf. A total of 104 crew members were killed and 32 more were injured.
The president proceeded to make this more than merely another brutal, pointless act of war. He turned it into a glaring â shocking â revelation of truth . . . about the American-Israeli war on Iran and, quite possibly about all wars: about war itself. He was upset at first, he told the crowd, that the Navy sank the frigate rather than capturing it. But when he expressed this to the military officials, one of them responded: âItâs more fun to sink them.â
And the crowd laughed. Uh . . . are we âplayingâ war or waging it, with that trillion-dollar annual military budget America has? No doubt weâre doing both, but normally the âfunâ part of war â the dehumanization of the enemy, the abstraction of peopleâs deaths (including those of children) â is airbrushed from public discussion by politically correct strategic and political blather. But this is Trump, spouting the quiet part out loud â in the process, causing the global infrastructure of nation-states, borders and militarism to tremble. Could it be that war is based on the least of who we are, the least mature aspect of human nature?
In contrast, I quote from a recent essay written by my friend Laura Hassler, founder and director of Musicians Without Borders:
âWell, guess what.  There are other forces alive in todayâs world. Decades of resistance to domination and colonialism, the learnings of movements across the global South, the freedom that Western hegemony for a few decades inadvertently released on its majority population, and access through social media to some of the reality of the actual horrors perpetrated in our names have together led to a worldwide awakening to fundamental injustices, and a worldwide longing for a livable, connected, survivable future.â
She calls this worldwide awakening âRadical Empathy,â a term in widespread use, which means a deeply rooted sense of connection among people, well beyond merely sympathy and shared feelings. We are one planet, one people, and we will survive together or not at all.
âRadical Empathy must be fierce, stubborn, creative, persistent,â she continues.
    âWe must hold on to each other, build community, be willing to take risks and accept consequences. Seek alternatives. Stand in solidarity with all who resist oppression and the violence of power and greed. . . .
âAnd we artists must nurture artistic bravery, using the power of the arts to tell truth, to build community, to turn our capacity for radical empathy into a force for good.â
In other words, Radical Empathy isnât simply emotional. You can say itâs spiritual, but itâs also political. Itâs a movement: ever changing, ever manifesting in the moment, ever addressing conflict by reaching for connection and understanding. Yes, global nationalism still maintains the power to wage war. And war is everywhere these days. As Jeffrey Sachs noted in a recent interview, âWorld War III is hereâ . . . from Ukraine and Gaza and Iran to Asia to the Western Hemisphere. And the fighting across the world is linked.
But at the same time the world is changing. A âglobal structure of nonviolenceâ is emerging â pushing, pushing against the deeply embedded infrastructure of war and us-vs.-them consciousness. Finding understanding with your enemy â connecting with âthe otherâ â can be incredibly difficult, especially in the midst of conflict, but Radical Empathy is making it a reality across the planet.
Laura Hasslerâs organization, Musicians Without Borders, exemplifies this movement. The organization was founded in 1999, in Alkamaar, a city in the Netherlands. Laura, who was a choir director and organized music events, had put together a concert for the townâs annual honoring of the dead of World War II.
But as I wrote in a column several years ago:
âthe bloody war in Kosovo was then raging: Thousands had died; nearly a million refugees were streaming across Europe. Its horror dominated the daily news and Laura couldnât ignore it. She couldnât simply focus on the war dead of half a century ago, not when the hell of war was alive in the present moment, pulling at her soul.
    âShe decided, âWeâll perform music from the people suffering from war now â folk songs from Eastern Europe,â she told me. Her impulse was to reach out, to connect, somehow, with those suffering right now, on the other side of Europe. And something happened the night of the concert. When it ended, there was a moment of profound silence . . . and then, as the audience stood, applause so thunderous that the rafters shook. It went on for 20 minutes.
âOne of the musicians, a political refugee from Turkey, said to her afterwards: âThis concert was special. We should put it on a train, send it to Kosovo and stop the war!ââ
And they went to Kosovo. Gradually, Musicians Without Borders became global, working with local people in war-torn regions all over the world â people on both sides of the divide â to create music that transcends the war of the moment. The organization currently has long-term projects in the Balkans, West Asia, Eastern Africa and Europe.
This is Radical Empathy, or at least one example of it â our complex force of hope even as the worldâs leaders continue bleeding away the planetâs resources in order to play war. Radical Empathy transcends war. Itâs who we are â when we find ourselves.
    Robert Koehler (koehlercw@gmail.com), syndicated by PeaceVoice, is a Chicago award-winning journalist and editor. He is the author of Courage Grows Strong at the Wound, and his album of recorded poetry and artwork, Soul Fragments.

