Since 2009, through the auspices of an organization in Germany,[16] I have facilitated numerous trilateral, intergenerational workshops and mentor-training programs for Israelis, Palestinians, and Germans. Depending on the political situation, we met at locations in Jerusalem, the West Bank, Germany, or Greece. Finally, to name a last example, under my current directorship of the Martin-Springer Institute (founded by a Polish-born Jewish Holocaust survivor and her husband),[17] and in collaboration with partners at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, we started to lead interactive seminars in southern Israel and northern Arizona. Mindful of the impact of systemic power asymmetries on intergroup relations, ethnically diverse groups of Israelis and Americans probed the fraught and fragile relations between majority society and minority communities (specifically Bedouins and Native Americans).
Hesitations
Writing about and reflecting on actual group processes with real people comes with a number of complications and worries, and they have delayed the writing of this book for quite some time. Group processes—as they unfold over several hours, days, or, in some cases, weeks[18]—are so dense, complex, and multifaceted that not even the most detailed description would do justice to them, let alone to the inner processes that each individual participant undergoes. Any attempt at such detailed description would overwhelm readers and ultimately exhaust them. Hence, the scenes and episodes described in this book are chosen for their exemplary value, illustrating specific dynamics I deem crucial when working with groups in conflict.
Although each group needs to be understood within its specific historical, sociopolitical, cultural, and local embeddedness, the ways I have worked with these dynamics are relevant and applicable to bridge-building efforts and mediation in other conflict zones. My hope then is that, beyond the particulars of my examples, a wide range of people can benefit from the insights presented in this book. I expect that practitioners, scholars, community leaders, peacemakers, interfaith activists, NGO representatives, grassroots initiatives, and governmental commissions are able to adopt them with the necessary adjustments for specific settings. I further hope that any reader—whether practitioner, scholar, engaged citizen, or activist—will be productively challenged and inspired by the potential of unsettling empathy.
Another complication is the degree to which the public is permitted to peek into processes that are, in principle, confidential and protected from the gaze of nonparticipating, external observers. This also extends to protecting the privacy of individuals. As a general rule, groups under my facilitation agree at the beginning of a meeting to certain rules of confidentiality. For example, we give ourselves permission to talk about what we experienced and learned in these processes—since part of our intention is to bring fresh insights and inspiration back to our communities—but to talk about it in such a way that no individual can be identified or singled out.[19] This is particularly important when individuals are at risk of being ostracized by their family or community if it became known that they were meeting with their “enemy” (such as in Palestinian-Israeli groups). In the rare instance that outsiders—like photographers, journalists, filmmakers, or other guests—are allowed to join the group, they do so in circumscribed settings during which more volatile processes are put on hold.[20] Given these parameters, I have changed (with a few exceptions) all names of the participants and modified a few identifiers. In some cases, I introduce characters that are composite figures in order to highlight a particular dynamic. These composite figures are not inventions but pull together sentiments that were expressed by several people on similar occasions.
A third complication has to do with my choice of reporting on these processes. Enriched by, filtered through, and indebted to insights from the relevant literature on topics addressed in this study, the materials for this book are based on my notes and observations.[21] Though I employ vocabulary and discuss concepts gleaned from different disciplines, I do not always practice fidelity to how specific terms are used by other scholars. Rather, I adopt these terms for my own purpose and mine them for their explanatory potential.[22] The interpretations I suggest and the conclusions I draw are inevitably mine and as such are open to criticism. Although I occasionally insert the words and thoughts of participants that were shared in follow-up correspondence, I do not claim to represent comprehensively those individuals’ experiences, feelings, insights, ambiguities, and skepticism.[23] What I will do is to suggest interpretive possibilities without always exploring the full complexity inherent in these processes.
My motivation to facilitate processes with groups in conflict is not driven by an ambition to prove scientifically the validity of this work through collecting and evaluating qualitative and quantitative data; nor is it driven by a desire to authenticate the effectiveness of a particular method. My occasional infidelity to discipline-specific term definitions is echoed in a certain unorthodoxy of my facilitation practice. Just as I am indebted to critical insights gleaned from scholarly sources, I borrow and modify techniques of various therapeutic and creative practices. Without them, I could not have written this book, let alone facilitate groups. Yet, at the center of my work with groups in conflict are neither theories nor techniques but the people who have had the courage to step outside their comfort zones and who have chosen to seek pathways out of acrimonious relationships, communal grievances, and seemingly insurmountable walls of mistrust.
When I presented my thoughts on empathy as a crucial component of conflict resolution at a genocide prevention forum in Yerevan, Armenia, the attending historian Omer Bartov responded with skepticism.[24] Though intrigued by the term “unsettling empathy,” he shared in a brief follow-up conversation that his graduate students do not find such terminology “analytically useful.” Bartov is right, of course. Unsettling empathy is not an analytical category in the sense of helping us to understand historical processes. Rather it is a dynamic that plays out in present social relations burdened by the past and emboldened to envision a better future. In this sense, unsettling empathy has affinity to an ethical vision, yet with real practical implications, something that cannot be enforced but can transpire.
Given the centrality I ascribe to the specific dynamics that evolve in each group process, it might come as no surprise that my workshops and interactive seminars do not follow a cookie-cutter model. There is no step-by-step method that each group needs to pass through. An ability to improvise is an essential part of the skill set of a good facilitator. Though there is careful advance planning, I am always ready to stop, adjust, and change any preset ideas. For a facilitator, this requires fine-tuned attentiveness to the mood of a group, improvisational skills, and eliminating ego attachment to preconceived notions about content and process. It also requires an ability to balance a group’s need for protection with occasional direct interventions. “Holding” a group while keeping it responsible for its own conduct, goals, and aspirations is another essential element for effective facilitation.
Structure
Because there is no theory to be defended and no step-by-step method to be introduced, there is no ready-made order by which this book proceeds. Instead we may want to think of this writing as a layering of concepts, examples, and meaning, which gives this book a motion of circularity more than linearity. Such circularity, I hope, is not experienced as repetitiveness but an intensification of the materials presented.
The layering consists of three levels that have different explanatory and heuristic value. I will call these layers, respectively, “frames,” “dynamics,” and “approaches.”
“Frames” establish a broader context for explaining the materials and observations of this work. These frames command, organize, and focus the materials on which this writing relies, and they do so within established transdisciplinary fields. The frames most helpful for my work are “reconciliation,” “memory,” “trauma,” and “empathy,” and they are presented in the first part.
In the second part I explore the various dynamics and approaches that unfold and characterize my work with groups in conflict. “Dynamics,” here, refer to my observations of how conflicts surface and are expressed when working with people in adversarial relations. Dynamics are the kind of psychosocial, psychopolitical, and emotional forces we