Letter 7: On Nonviolence, Communication and Power

My room in Nabatieh, South Lebanon - damaged by Israeli bombing

Fall 2024 (Photo by Mohamad Hamdan)

Letters From The Ground 7: On Nonviolence, Communication and Power

From: Mohamad Hamdan - Mathematician, Practitioner in Theatre, Practitioner in Nonviolent Communication
To: Nonviolent Communication colleagues

-Read in Arabic-

Abstract

I write this letter as a Lebanese Nonviolent Communication (NVC) practitioner seeking to engage with NVC as a tool for self-connection, interpersonal harmony, and a means of transformative social change. I hope to contribute to an essential conversation about cultivating safer spaces within NVC learning and training—especially for those who frequently experience violence. NVC envisions a world where all needs are seen and cared for. In that spirit, I invite reflection on how trainers design lessons and learning environments: to honor the integrity of the practice, support safe and effective learning, and recognize the complex power dynamics present—from the individual to the global. 

I also wish to open discussions on how we can practice NVC with political clarity and a deeper awareness of power. In this letter, I move from the personal to the collective—not to offer final answers, but to spark dialogue. I do not claim to have all the answers; I continue to examine my own practices with humility and care.

Some of what I share may feel unfamiliar or challenge dominant narratives. I invite you to stay present with whatever arises in you as you read—so you may see me as I am, and so that together, we may face reality as it is.

 “If I use empathy to liberate people to be less depressed, to get along better with their family, and at the same time not inspire them to use their energy to rapidly transform systems in the world, then I am part of the problem. I am essentially calming people down, making them happier to live in the systems as they are, and I am using empathy as a narcotic.” Ascribed to Marshall Rosenberg.

Dear NVC colleagues,

The idea of writing this letter began taking shape in the summer of 2024, during an International Intensive Training (IIT), where I suddenly found myself with four Palestinians and an Israeli, while atrocities were unfolding in Palestine. I was in a European country among European and American colleagues, whose societies directly or indirectly support Israel¹ through financial aid, arms shipments, diplomatic backing and more recently, oppressive domestic actions combined with censoring - silencing² scholars, journalists, artists, lawyers and citizens who dare mention Palestine. In that IIT,  I felt unsafe expressing myself. I felt anger in the face of biased information. I was hurt by the lack of awareness of power dynamics and imbalances. I witnessed the  focus on  “shared pain” and empathy neutralizing any possibility of change toward justice and liberation. I came to experience empathy as inherently political – limited by mental and cultural filters.³ In that space, I began to question the limitations of empathy when it is disconnected from power awareness and stripped of historical context. Through this exploration, I began  to see a deeper connection between NVC and social change.

I began writing this letter in September 2024, as the atrocities in Palestine – ongoing for nearly a year – reached Lebanon. It took me more than six months to finish, to express my experience with as much vulnerability, integrity, and honesty as I could, while surrounded by the noise of drones, missiles, and bombings – driven by a deep longing for justice. As power dynamics were blatantly ignored, I used words to resist the dismantling of laws and conventions meant to unite us all - being  undone by a machine of death and dehumanization, reducing entire regions in Palestine and Lebanon to rubble - under the pretext of Israel’s right to defend itself.⁴ I wrote because I believe there are other ways to achieve safety, liberation, and peace for all. I wrote to defend what I believe is the essence of NVC – far from coercion and punishment. 

When can one human justifiably kill another? The question of limits matters to me – because limits give meaning. I first encountered the concept of “protective use of force”⁵ through NVC, and it stirred a deep fascination inside me. 

One of the most vivid images of power imbalance from my childhood came from the television: unarmed kids facing fully armed soldiers. I asked my father how such a situation could exist. He told me they were under siege. That night, I lay in bed wondering how I could get them weapons to protect themselves. A nonviolent child's soul was searching for arms. My father never mentioned that the kids were Palestinian and the soldiers Israeli. Years later, I realized it was an image from the First Palestinian Uprising in 1987 – the Uprising of Stones.⁶ Back then, I knew nothing of history; I simply identified with powerless children, as I too was a child. Now, nearly 40 years later, I see images of Palestinian corpses left in Gaza, eaten by dogs or pushed aside by Israeli tractors. I feel rage mixed with shame, guilt, sadness, and fear. This rage runs deep because today’s horrors are an escalation of a systematic crime that has ravaged our lands and bodies for decades. And still, I hear about Israel’s "right to defend itself." How is the logic inverted? How can an occupier⁷ claim self-defense against a population it has kept under siege in Gaza for 17 years? How did this inversion become normalized? How did Israel steal not just land and olive trees but even the very concept of "the right to self-defense"?

I was born during Lebanon’s civil war⁸ in 1978, the same year Israel began its 22-year occupation of southern Lebanon.⁹ One of my earliest memories of fear was at age four, during the Israeli invasion of Beirut. My family and I hid in an underground shelter with our neighbors. At one point our landlord sheltering with us wanted to open the door because it was too hot. Her suggestion terrified me; I feared she might impose her will simply because she owned the building. I imagined the boots of Israeli soldiers above us on the streets. I was consumed with fear that Israeli soldiers would find us. This was one of my first experiences of “power-over”;¹⁰ being subjected to the will of both a landlord and an occupying force that ruled through domination and violence.

As a child, I believed that “friendly” countries like France would help us if they knew that we were facing a superpower that could strike at will. At 18, when I moved to France for my studies, I was shocked to see Israel’s occupation of Lebanon framed as self-defense. I tried to counter biased information by writing to media outlets and presenting facts, laws, and human rights arguments in response to every pro-occupation stance. But over time, I realized that I had misplaced my faith in international law. In reality, I learned to silence my own story and that of my family, I learned to temper my fire for justice. Confronted with the glorification of Zionism’s single narrative, I complied – self-censoring my words. What Europe and the U.S. call “conflict,” “terrorism,” and “civilian casualties,” we call “occupation,” “settler colonialism,” “apartheid,” and “freedom fighting.” This isn’t about semantics or language - it’s about how massacres in Palestine and Lebanon are justified by a system of communication and biased information that shapes global perception, dehumanises certain groups, reinforces empathy gaps, and sustains systems of domination.

My NVC practice, since 2016, has helped me process some of the injustice I’ve felt in my body and express myself with honesty in front of international colleagues. Each time, I chose to connect with what I lived – with honesty, with vulnerability, choosing life over revenge or ego-fighting. It offered me the chance to receive empathy and to connect with others in that space of practice. Yet, in many instances, those connections lacked a shared reality of what was being experienced and were hindered by mental filters.

While NVC offered me a space for expression, I also struggled with feedback from colleagues who lacked historical understanding or showed clear bias. Often, I heard, “it is complex” or “I prefer not to side with any party” as a way to stop the conversation. When I hear that, I am triggered, and I start asking myself many questions, especially since we are here to deconstruct power structures and the dynamics of oppression. In this context, is neutrality not siding with the occupier? How can ignoring context - context we may be directly or indirectly supporting - justify avoiding honesty in our positioning? Why do we normalize ignorance? Isn’t that a form of violence? Why do we choose ignorance or simplification over love? What does empathy mean when power dynamics are ignored? What happens to connection when we refuse to face the truth?

The questions I raise in this letter, along with others I’ve encountered throughout my NVC journey, are tied to unmet needs related to safety, care, and dignity for all. They also involve recognizing the value of all needs at stake, awareness of power imbalances, integrity and responsibility.

Those needs, along with the realities I live through, combined with the spiritual dimension of NVC as ‘care for any form of life’ push me to anchor conflict resolution in an awareness of power dynamics and power imbalances alongside the reality of shared pain. To me, ignoring power is avoiding social change. My understanding of NVC as power-with, beyond just processes and tools, leads me to hold both the respective needs of all parties and an awareness of prevailing power dynamics close to my heart when I am looking for connection. Ignoring power dynamics increases the pain of both parties, leads to distorted observations that justify violence, and legitimises political projects that turn all people - both oppressed and oppressors - into victims. Let us make sure NVC becomes a practice of social change rooted with that  awareness, in moments of shared togetherness. What happens when we fail to meet those moments with clarity and safety? What might emerge if we do?

At the IIT I mentioned at the beginning of this letter, there was a single reference to having a contact person for participants from conflict zones in the opening session. But there was no further acknowledgement. I assume Palestine was included in that mention. But what’s happening in Palestine is not merely a conflict. It is an occupation, settlement, and ongoing Genocide under investigation.¹¹ No additional frameworks were offered to address the current moment, apart from Palestinian participants using an evening session to share personal stories of living under occupation. Israel continues to violate international resolutions, laws, rulings of the International Court of Justice, and the International Criminal Court arrest warrants, under the pretext of self-defense – with no dialogue around these violations or our complicity. 

Let us - NVC communities and practitioners - be clear and integrous by acknowledging power imbalances, recognizing dynamics such as occupation or settler colonialism, naming them, reflecting on how we may be supporting them, and advocating for the acknowledgement of all the associated needs.

From that space of clarity and integrity, I have a few questions and requests for NVC organizers and trainers as they are the facilitators of the process, especially those leading international training, to foster more safety and fairness, particularly for those who experience negligence, oppression, war, or occupation.

• Can you proactively reach out to participants from conflict zones before the start of the training especially if participants from opposing parties are taking part in the training and explore with them their needs and how to respond to all needs at stake with care?
• Can you explicitly acknowledge, in community meetings or similar spaces, the presence of participants from conflict zones and the power dynamics at play - especially in situations of occupation and oppression? Can you recognize when participants from occupying and occupied countries are present in the same space?
• Can you initiate discussions that address structural injustice and power imbalances while holding space for shared pain by allowing time and energy to be dedicated to this process? What support system can be put in place to handle such situations when they occur?
• Can you plan collective grieving sessions centered on the conflict present in “the room” and provide adequate leadership to support them?
• Can you create space for storytelling to raise knowledge and awareness? 

Also, I would like to invite each one of us, writer and readers of this letter, to practice our political dimension - political meaning the collective - by exploring the pressing need to connect with social change actions and by elaborating small nonviolent actions that are relevant within our sphere of influence, starting with what is happening in Palestine. Today, we cannot stand by or ignore what is happening, especially when we are supporting it directly or indirectly. To do so would mean ignoring the fact that social change lies within our circle of influence. Let us embrace respect for all human beings without ambiguity, transformative justice, and political clarity when facing racism or colonialism. 

As NVC practitioners, we have a crucial role to liberate ourselves from conditioning, to relate to others empathically, and to contribute to social justice. I long for the questions raised in this letter – and others connected to similar contexts and realities – to be at the heart of community-building efforts and international forums, so that NVC flourishes in shaping humanity with clarity, integrity, and political consciousness. I do not want to watch the world lose its future to violence. NVC compels us to act and to challenge oppressive structures. This is how we honour all nonviolent souls -  dead, alive, and silenced.  

***

I’m deeply grateful to Caroline Nanzer, Catrin Froehlic, Jeff Karam, Junaid Sarrieddeen, Lamia Abi Azar, Liv Larsson and LeeAnn King for their generous support, thoughtful feedback, and care in editing at different moments along the way.

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¹ Whose societies directly or indirectly support Israel↩

• The United States has spent a record $17.9 billion on military aid to Israel from 7 October 2023 to October 2024. 
• The United states has used the veto power 49 times against Israel-related UN Security Council draft resolutions.
• The EU is the second-largest arms supplier to Israel after the US. The EU has a system in place to implement arms embargoes but has refused to apply to Israel. European taxpayers’ money is currently funding companies that arm Israel.
• For decades, the EU has maintained close ties with Israel, treating it as a de facto EU member state, even as it expanded its illegal military occupation of Palestine and frequently invaded and waged war in neighbouring territory. 

² Censorship - silencing↩

• Global threats to freedom of expression are arising from the conflict in Gaza targeting journalists, protesters, activists, artists etc.  
• Silencing of critical voices has helped create a permissive environment for mass atrocities in Palestine in an exponential way since October 2023.
• Since October 2023, art censorship incidents rose dramatically, threatening the creative freedom of artists across the United States and abroad.
• Meta’s policies and practices have been silencing voices in support of Palestine and Palestinian human rights on Instagram and Facebook.

³ Empathy as inherently political – limited by mental and cultural filters.↩

In her book “L’Empathie est Politique”, Samah Karaki - a Lebanese-French neuroscientist - describes empathy as a complex, dynamic process shaped by the social and cultural world we live in. She highlights that our emotions are shaped by our interests, history, relationships, and even our geographical distance from suffering. Emotions are never innocent; they are deeply tied to social and political structures. She also explores the role of media, cinema, and literature in dehumanizing certain groups, reinforcing empathy gaps, and sustaining systems of domination.

⁴ Israel’s right to defend itself ↩ 

• Did you not hear Hind Rajab’s voice? 
• This is how Israel claims to defend itself—by punishing an entire population, driving it into hunger, destroying all means of survival (hospitals, schools, universities, etc.), and killing or wounding over 200,000 people since its attack on Gaza in October 2023. Behind those numbers are the stories of human beings, just like us.

⁵ Protective use of force ↩

When someone acts in a way that compromises safety, we use force as a means of protection but never as punishment. We do not cause suffering to teach someone a lesson. Instead of using retribution to reinstate social order, Nonviolent Communication proposes education and restoration.

⁶ First Palestinian Uprising in 1987 – the Uprising of Stones.↩

The first Intifada began in a piecemeal fashion with demonstrations and civil disobedience. The grassroots protests of 1987 escalated into full-blown riots involving much of civil society, from organisations, union groups to newly created institutions to the ordinary population who came out in large numbers onto the streets led by rock-throwing youths.

⁷ Occupier↩

The United Nations recognizes Israel as an occupying power in the Palestinian territories, specifically the West Bank, including East Jerusalem, and the Gaza Strip. UNSC Resolution 242 (1967): Calls for Israeli withdrawal from territories occupied in the 1967 Six-Day War. UNSC Resolution 2334 (2016): States that Israeli settlements in the West Bank have “no legal validity” and violate international law. Numerous General Assembly resolutions consistently refer to Israel as an occupying force. The ICJ’s advisory opinion on Israel’s separation wall reaffirmed that Israel is the occupying power in Palestinian territories. The UN considers Israel bound by international humanitarian law as an occupying power under the Fourth Geneva Convention, which protects civilians in occupied territories. While Israel withdrew settlers and troops from Gaza in 2005, the UN still considers it occupied because Israel controls its airspace, borders, and sea access.

⁸ Civil war↩

Lebanon has witnessed a civil war from 1975 until 1990. This war was fueled by external factors and geopolitical considerations.

⁹ 22-year occupation of southern Lebanon ↩

Israel invaded Beirut in 1982 and occupied parts of South Lebanon until 2000. It withdrew in 2000 except from a few localities. It massively re-attacked Lebanon in 2006 and 2024 re-occupying some zones at the border.

¹⁰ “Power-over”↩

Power-over is a form of power based on control, domination, and coercion, where one person or group exerts authority over others, often through force, hierarchy, or systemic structures. It operates on a belief in scarcity and competition, maintaining control through fear, punishment, or exclusion.

¹¹ Occupation, settlement, apartheid and an ongoing Genocide under investigation. ↩

• The ruling issued by the ICJ issued in 2024 ordered six provisional measures including for Israel to refrain from acts under the Genocide convention, prevent and punish the direct and public incitement to genocide, and take immediate and effective measures to ensure the provision of humanitarian assistance to civilians in Gaza. Crucially, the Court also ordered Israel to preserve evidence of genocide and to submit a report to the Court, within one month, of all measures taken in line with its order.
• Also, in 2024, the International Criminal Court (ICC) issued arrest warrants for two senior Israeli officials, Benjamin Netanyahu, the Prime Minister of Israel, and Yoav Gallant, the former Minister of Defense of Israel, alleging responsibility for the war crime of starvation as a method of warfare and the crimes against humanity of murder, persecution, and other inhumane acts during the Gaza war.