I wish I knew the words that could bring about world peace. Each day, I write about consequential matters, but the words that could solve the problems in Gaza escape me. They could be on the tip of my tongue or just a keystroke away. The words that could change the world.
By John Haren
Far better writers than me have attempted to change the course of history. Tolstoy challenged the state and the Church and was excommunicated for his troubles. As far as we know, Jesus didn’t write, but his spoken words had him crucified. Apparently, promoting the notion of love your neighbour is an overt act of treachery against the State.
Aung San Suu Kyi spoke words of peace and justice for the oppressed people of Myanmar. She has been jailed for the past four years. Words are powerful and threatening. Authoritarian figures like to use words for their own purposes. Words like we’re tough on crime, you’re either with us or against us, and illegal aliens are powerful tools in their vocabulary, creating suspicion, division and hatred. But words like compassion and respect are quickly dismissed with another form of words, political correctness. Attempts to analyse historical narratives in their proper context are condemned as woke.
Francesca Albanese, the UN Special Rapporteur on Palestine, found the words to describe the tactics of Israel perpetrated on the people of Gaza and the West Bank well before the horrific events of 7 October. Her words riled people who did not want to acknowledge the harshness of life under occupation. But recently, finding the words to expose the many companies that support and profit from the Israeli war effort drew outrage and sanctions from the US and Israel. Words do have an impact.
I wish I could find the words to describe how I felt when Australia voted overwhelmingly against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people having a Voice to Parliament. I cannot even imagine the words that Aboriginal people might use to describe their feelings. No is a particularly potent word of limitation and rejection. We say no to our young children when they say or do something wrong or unreasonable. Like children, it seems Aboriginal people need to know their place, and it is certainly not occupying positions of even modest influence on policies that affect them.
Lior Attar is an Australian singer, born in Israel with Jewish heritage. In collaboration with another Australian composer, Nigel Westlake, he found Arabic and Hebrew words to express the Compassion that the world needs in order to live in harmony.
The words matter, and yet they don’t. Having recently attended Lior’s concert in Adelaide, I was witness to the presence of a man enabling his music to transcend the barriers that might otherwise block our own minds. The words – hopelessness, despair, fear – can penetrate our synapses, even when they are unwanted.
Lior’s words did matter to the audience he gathered in the Ukaria Cultural Centre on a wintry Saturday night. But are such words heard in the White House, the Knesset, the Kremlin or even the Australian Parliament? I’m yet to hear them.
I wish I could find the words to describe how I feel about global poverty and its impact on individuals and the whole of humanity. The Australian philosopher Peter Singer advocates that those of us who can give should donate 10 per cent of our income to charity. He models this by giving 40 per cent of his income to global poverty alleviation initiatives.
His words and actions challenge us to be more considered in our generosity, which he labels as obligation. An obligation not just to those we know and love but to those whom we do not know in countries much poorer than ours. The whole world is poorer for the fact that obligation has not yet manifested into a fair distribution of the world’s resources, starting with food, education and health care. Tragically, obligation is more frequently used with respect to the responsibility of the unemployed to do something in return for the meagre payment they receive from the state.
The words I hear uttered each day on our airwaves are carefully crafted so as not to be interpreted as racist, misogynist and patriarchal, even when they are. It did not require too much insight to realise where the children overboard accusation in 2001 was taking the country in relation to asylum seekers. Or, more recently, the term impactful projection described in a strategic review of Australia’s military capability, which, as far as I can tell, means we need to have the ability to strike our enemies before they strike us.
It seems fear is our most important weapon for peace. French President Emmanuel Macron announced significant increases in military spending claiming, to be free we have to be feared. Not exactly peacemaking words.
A few years ago, I undertook an online course in Chinese history in search of more reliable words to understand China in our current context. I was not convinced that the words I was hearing in our western frame of reference were balanced or reliable. With a modicum of insight from a different perspective, we might be surprised at how common our interests actually are. We might find ourselves in a better place to promote our common pursuits as well as critique each other’s human rights issues if we bother to listen.
As I write this piece, I am convincing myself that we do have the words to change the world and make it a better place. They are not difficult words. Compassion, love, understanding, hope. And yes is a great antidote to no.
Can we fulfill our obligation to all of humanity and create space for the poor and oppressed? Can we create peace out of conflict by listening with new ears? Can our leaders utter conciliatory words and act on them? Words that lead to action do matter. As it turns out, we know the words. When will we hear them?
This article was published in the September 2025 edition of The Good Oil.
