They shall all sit under their own vines and under their own
fig trees,
and no one shall make them afraid;
for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken.
âMicah 4:4
It was only nine a.m. that Monday in March 2003, but already I suspected it would be a long week. For months, the news had been full of talk about whether Iraq posed a threat to the United States. The previous day, protests against the possibility of a US-led coalition invading Iraq had erupted around the world. President George W. Bush was scheduled to address the nation that evening.
Twenty-four people from communities impacted by 9/11 had gathered for a five-day Strategies for Trauma Awareness and Resilience (STAR) training.[1] In the opening round of introductions, it was obvious the people in the room were as entrenched in their positions as was the rest of the country.
My co-facilitator and I acknowledged the high-stakes tensions worldwide and the differences in the room, then directed attention to the group guidelines and objectives for the week. We plowed through the day, trying to focus on the agenda: explaining the normal reactions of individuals and groups when trauma has shattered safety, and how this applied to their own experiences. But the division kept seeping through. To believe or not believe claims of weapons of mass destruction was a heated question. So was the morality of a preemptive war. One woman compared George W. Bush to Hitler, setting off a firestorm. One manâs son had been deployed, and he feared he was heading to Iraq.
A veneer of politeness got us to Tuesday afternoon. Now the topic was the Cycles of Violence[2] that occur when trauma is not addressed (see figure 3 below): Reactions that are normal at first remain unresolved and harden into a victim identity, that is, how we were harmed becomes a dominant part of how we see ourselves. Secondary symptomsâdepression, anxiety, suicide, substance abuseâset in. Individuals and groups can be stuck in a victim cycle for months, years, even generations.
Hurt people hurt people. We described how victims can cross a line and become offenders themselves, acting out their pain on others through bullying, abuse, warâall behaviors that create more victims. We identified the unreflective meaning-making narratives people adopt, often unconsciously, to keep themselves safe and seek justice: (1) us vs. themâmy group over and against yours; (2) good vs. evilâseeing individuals or groups as inherently good or evil, self-identifying with good while demonizing and dehumanizing âthe otherâ; (3) chosen trauma[3]âa group-held memory of a massive trauma at the hands of an enemy that can be reactivated to rally support if the group identity feels threatened; and (4) redemptive violence[4]âthe myth that violence is necessary to protect us, that war brings peace and might makes right. We pointed out how justice is confused with revenge and how individuals and nations can carry a victim identity while also being offenders, failing to notice or acknowledge they are both.
Often a profound silence settles over the room during this part of the training as people see their trauma stories in new ways. On this day, the room was hard to read. But as the group was dispersing to find quiet spots to reflect, one of the most outspoken pro-invasion participants spoke up, a new tentativeness in his voice. âWait, everyone,â he said. âIâve just realized that all of us here who support the war have closer geographic or personal ties to 9/11 than those who are against it. Do you think thereâs a connection?â
His observation marked a turning point. Positions didnât change, but the tone in the room shifted. Identifying the experience and wounds behind group membersâ positions had activated empathy. Supporters of the president expressed more nuance. Those against the invasion spoke with more compassion and understanding.
On the fourth day of the training, headlines of âshock and aweâ[5] greeted us: the invasion had begun. The father of the deployed reservist arrived in so much back pain he had difficulty sitting and walking. He lay on a mat in the back of the room as a participant trained in massage, who was against the war, gently worked his tight muscles. Others gathered around expressing empathy and offering prayers for his son. By late morning he was able to rejoin everyone at the table.
The evaluation comments at the end of the week were thoughtful:
âI came with an us/them mentality,â a supporter of the war wrote. âNow I see what I must doâface the trauma so that it doesnât come out in escalating cycles of violence.â
âI leave with a feeling of humility,â wrote a participant who opposed the war. âI was challenged by my feelings of tolerance/intolerance, and I grew through the process.â
Trauma polarizes. Then that very polarization can be traumatic as it creates rifts and severs friendships. Scratch beneath the surface of any conflict, division, or evil, and you often find unaddressed individual and/or group trauma. The economic, social, and emotional factors David Brubaker outlines in chapter 1 as causes of polarization all can be sources of trauma.
In this chapter, I share how a trauma lens can help in understanding and addressing some aspects of division and reconnection. Weâll begin with a definition of trauma and how threat and fear create a lack of safety that profoundly impacts beliefs and behaviors, fueling âotheringâ reactions that contribute to cycles of violence if unaddressed. Weâll explore the malignancy of fanning fear and ways to prevent or break cycles of violence. We end with ways leaders can foster safety and connection.
What Is Trauma?
Trauma, from a Greek word meaning âwound,â refers to an individualâs or groupâs responsesâphysical, emotional, cognitive, spiritual, and relationalâto traumagenic[6] events or unjust systems. Traumagenic means âlikely to cause trauma to the people who are targeted, the perpetrators, and the witnesses.â It reflects the subjective nature of how individuals and groups experience an event: what is traumatic to one may be only stressful to another. Traumagenic experiences differ from ordinary stress in intensity and/or duration and likely lead to leave survivors feeling overwhelmed and powerlessness. The belief that life is meaningful and orderly is challenged.
Traumagenic events are an inevitable part of life. Trauma can result from one-time events (natural disasters, airplane crashes) or from circumstances that are cumulative or ongoing for individuals or collectives (dignity violations, loss of a way of life, structural violence such as racism or living in poverty). Collective historical atrocities like the Holocaust, the Palestinian Nakba,[7] or the genocide of aboriginal people also are traumagenic. If unaddressed, the effects are passed on through the generations.
Safety and the Impact of Threat/Fear
My colleague Tricia[8] was driving to a consultation with an out-of-state physician when her GPS went down. Flustered, she took an east-bound exit when she needed to go west. Traffic was heavy, and she had to travel several miles before she could turn around. Suddenly she felt hot-and-cold flashes and started to cry. Her husband, Greg, tried to help by giving directions, but she screamed at him to be quiet. Panicked that they would be late, she drove faster and faster. Greg pointed out that she was driving 90 miles per hour. Her response was to yell and swear. When they finally reached their destination, a shaken Greg said plaintively, âMay I please have my wife back? This woman is not my wife.â Wobbly and dazed, Tricia started to laugh hysterically. She couldnât stop shaking and laughing for several minutes.
To understand how trauma impacts us, and how it relates to Triciaâs experience and to polarization, we need to begin not with the psychological but with our physical body, specifically the nervous system/brain. You may be tempted to skip this section. But if you want to address fear, hate, and division using a trauma lens, you need to understand the basics of three nervous-system responses to our sense of safety or threat/fear:[9] (1) the social engagement system (face-heart); (2) mobilizati...
