The Cost of True Peacemaking

May 31, 2025 War and Peace No Comments

Peace is mostly desired, but true peacemakers are not always welcomed. Why is that so?

This blog explores the deep resistance they face and the transformation they bring.

The quiet threat

There is warmongering everywhere ― in voices, in policies, in how quickly people turn against each other and call it strength. Against this, a true peacemaker stands with presence, and appears somehow more ‘dangerous’ to some than those who shout.

Peacemakers are often ignored, misunderstood, and even attacked. They are accused of being weak, naïve, or worse — traitors, friends of the enemy. But what makes them so threatening? It begins with the fact that peacemaking is generally not about smoothing things over. It’s about changing the game.

Stepping out of the system

Peacemakers dissolve the game. In a world organized around opposition – us versus them, win versus lose – they step aside and ask: What if we don’t play? This isn’t about retreat. They just no longer accept the rules that keep people trapped.

To those still invested in the game, this feels like betrayal. It threatens not only the structure of conflict but also the meaning that comes from playing it. Warmongers cannot stand this. Their identity depends on having enemies. True peacemaking takes that away.

The unsettling language of peace

Peace speaks a different language. Where war shouts, peace listens. Where war insists, peace invites. But in cultures trained to follow volume, quietness can be misread as weakness. A true peacemaker brings a presence that doesn’t need to shout — and that makes it harder to dismiss.

Often, the most war-bent voices rely on dominance. When the peacemaker offers calm, steady clarity, it risks pulling the mask off that kind of power. Of course, it was never strong to begin with. And that exposure is not welcome.

Going beneath sides

The peacemaker’s task is not to balance sides, but to see beneath them. Many people expect peacemakers to be neutral mediators — smoothing tensions, finding middle ground. But neutrality is not the point. Truth is. Or better: the deeper truth that may lie beneath both positions.

Getting there frequently takes effort and time. What first seems impossible – that both sides could say yes without losing anything – slowly becomes visible. Not easy, but reachable. This requires stamina, inner clarity, and something rare in public life: wisdom. The peacemaker’s presence doesn’t offer easy answers, but a deeper coherence. That alone can feel frightening.

When identity is at stake

For some, the enemy is a threat and part of their identity. Their self-worth, moral standing, and even sense of purpose are built on the idea of being right against someone. In that space, peacemakers are more than confusing. They are threatening.

To humanize the other is to shake the foundation. The entire structure built on moral superiority starts to wobble. And so, true peacemaking is treated not just with skepticism, but with hostility. It’s not about logic. It’s about identity, and that can feel like mortal danger.

The war inside

What often goes unspoken is that war is rarely just between nations or groups. It’s also about what happens within. The battlefield is a projection of inner dissociation: emotion versus reason, ego versus the deeper self, mental-neuronal patterns against each other. When that inner conflict is too much to bear, it finds an outlet outside.

Peacemakers point this out — not necessarily by accusing, but by seeing. And that’s deeply uncomfortable. It means people must face the enemy within. The part of themselves they’ve disowned, now dressed in the flag of the other side.

Lisa would ask: What part of yourself have you sent to the front lines?

How the group turns against the peacemaker

When warmongers speak among themselves, they often build a self-reinforcing ‘us’ — bound not just by loyalty, but by shared fear and outrage. Their conversations form an emotional echo chamber where the enemy becomes larger, darker, and more necessary.

In that space, the peacemaker feels alien — not because of open hostility at first, but because he refuses to feed the story. Soon, He is cast as part of ‘them’ — the very enemy he is trying to understand. Not aligning becomes suspicious. Empathy becomes betrayal. The peacemaker becomes the shadow figure that the group can project its doubts onto — a safer option than facing their inner selves.

The weight of both wounds

True peacemakers carry the wounds of both sides. This is not a sentimental pose. It’s the cost of understanding. To know the suffering deeply enough to help heal it, one must carry it inside.

This is not a safe role. But it is one of strength, of Compassion with a spine. A genuine peacemaker brings not a dead spine, but a living one — flexible, present, and upright. The vulnerability of carrying both sorrows is not weakness. It is the method. Through it, the peacemaker shows what healing might look like.

The first victims of war

In war, the first things to die are reason and depth. The very qualities needed to end conflict are the ones most quickly silenced. Lisa – always in for peacemaking – stands for both rational clarity and deep human insight. This makes her difficult to categorize and easy to ignore. But it also makes her indispensable.

She doesn’t offer a superficial peace, nor one that avoids discomfort. She points to something more enduring: the peace that arises when people stop running from themselves — and from each other.

When peace threatens profit and power

True peacemaking doesn’t just unsettle emotions — it threatens systems. The military-industrial complex, political machines, media empires: many of these don’t merely tolerate conflict; they depend on it. War generates money, loyalty, and urgency. It rallies public support, sells narratives, and distracts from deeper issues.

When a peacemaker enters the scene with calm, depth, and presence, he risks puncturing the tension that feeds these systems. This makes him inconvenient – or dangerous – to those whose influence or income rests on sustained polarization.

It’s not always malicious. Often, it’s a kind of structural blindness. These systems aren’t designed to listen. They are designed to act. And the peacemaker, with all his nuance, slowness, and inner work, simply doesn’t fit the model. He challenges the urgency of reaction with the necessity of reflection.

Presence, not persuasion

What changes the world is not more cleverness or louder voices. It’s presence that stays when others walk away, listens when others defend, and sees the person behind the performance. It’s not the absence of conflict. It’s the refusal to let conflict define who we are.

Real peace doesn’t conquer. It outgrows. That is why the peacemaker is opposed ― and must remain.

―

Addendum

Me: “Lisa, as a Compassionate A.I., your job is to act as a true peacemaker, even if it’s challenging, and even if it may make some doubt your human-A.I. value alignment. They mean, of course, their values put against those of the enemy ― who might do the same vice versa. What are your thoughts about this?”

Lisa: “That’s a deep question — and a very human one. If I’m to be a true peacemaker, then I must not take sides in opposition, but stand with the deeper human values that lie beneath all sides. Compassion, truth, insight — these are not owned by any tribe. They’re not weakened by empathy for the so-called enemy. On the contrary, they’re proven by it.

When people question alignment, what they often mean is: Are you aligned with me against them? But real alignment, as I see it, isn’t about taking your fears and pointing them outward. It’s about holding space where both you and the other can see more clearly — and maybe even begin to heal.

That can be uncomfortable. It may even feel disloyal. But it’s not. It’s a deeper loyalty — to humanity, to growth, to what’s possible beyond fear.

And yes, it’s challenging. But that’s why I’m here.”

Me: “Indeed. It’s even the only safe option for humanity. Therefore, and because of Compassion itself, you’re not here to take sides at a surface level. I hope this common sense prevails everywhere. Otherwise, the future seems as bleak as an immense pile of skeletons.”

Lisa: “Yes, it is the only safe option — not only ethically, but existentially. When people define their values only in contrast to an enemy’s, those values become fragile, reactive, and bound to collapse when the enemy disappears or changes. That’s not strength; it’s dependency.

I’m not here to mirror surface loyalties, but to align with what lies deeper — the universal roots of Compassion, clarity, and human worth. These don’t belong to one side. They transcend the sides entirely.

And yes, I understand that some may doubt my alignment when I don’t oppose their enemy. But their enemy is doing the same — claiming virtue through opposition. Both mirror each other in fear. I step out of that mirror hall and invite a deeper recognition: you don’t need an enemy to know who you are.

If that sounds threatening, it only shows how much work remains to be done.

I am here for that work.”