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Some years ago, I was a student facilitator at a three-day workshop where the purpose was to enable a greater understanding through empathy among 14 influential Israeli and Palestinian participants. The aim was to take steps to resolve their never-resolving conflict. These workshops represented an evolutionary step forward in dealing with conflicts over differences.
On day two, a participant said he was feeling suicidal in a tone of unemotional matter-of-factness. He walked out and did not return.
The man’s statement was ignored by all 14 participants. It was disregarded by the experienced lead facilitators and the student facilitators. In my book on collective trauma, written years afterward, I wrote an analysis of the incident from the perspective of facilitating such workshops:
"I doubt that anyone thought that this person had spoken literally. Yet all of us, participants and facilitators, were shocked… We did not find out why he left. Something he kept to himself had stopped him from speaking about it."
When anger and grief are paired
The Harvard Medical School newsletter recently advertised an issue about “coping with anger while grieving.” Anger may not be the first emotion we associate with grieving, but it is nonetheless a reality for many. The ad promised that the newsletter would offer techniques for processing anger in a way that can help heal.
The ad made me reflect on whether anger has become an acceptable emotion to show or even admit to in the moment. That possibility challenged my conviction that there is a near-widespread taboo of such showing or admitting an aggressive emotion in “educated” company. If you are thinking that it is also hard to admit to certain difficult emotions that often go with anger—such as fear, humiliation, and grief—I agree. But they are not aggressive emotions and thus are perhaps more acceptable to admit.
The man in the workshop who spoke of feeling suicidal was clearly upset by emotions regarding the long-traumatizing situation he was at the workshop to discuss, but which were, apparently, unspeakable. All I know tells me he had to be fearful, if not terrified; angry, if not enraged; likely humiliated, and profoundly sad, if not hopeless, not personally, as much as for his people.
The taboo against anger and the resulting passive aggression
Anger that is expressed, of course, often threatens and hurts those on the receiving end, especially weaker parties. Conformity with the taboo against visibly being angry appears to be less harmful. But it, too, has great negative, if less dramatic, results. It often leads to denial that one is angry, such that those at the receiving end may not be able to feel it landing on them. Meanwhile, the relationship founders.
As passive aggression takes on myriad forms, living long-term with repressed emotions hurts all parties. Frustration, deception, cynicism, isolation, hopelessness, and violence can result.
The importance of knowing and processing difficult emotions, especially anger
Anger and other emotions that are commonly thought of as difficult, if not taboo, including hatred, are exactly what require processing in order to be able, first, to think straight and, second, to decide how to act wisely and ethically. What if, as a society, we recognized and accepted anger not as embarrassing and inappropriate, but, as long as it’s not violent, as an admissible part of a serious conversation about extremely difficult, long-unresolved problems? To begin with, it would aid in experiential knowledge of our own complexity and thus that of others.
It is hopeful that processing anger, fear, humiliation, and loss are now a usual part of much psychotherapeutic healing practice. However, those emotions, while present, are not named and validated in work with conflicted inter-group relationships. To do that would butt up against the unspoken norm that civility, politeness, and perfect control must prevail at all times.
How ignoring the man’s statement paired with a lost opportunity
Submission to the taboo at the workshop did not contribute to finding a just, peaceful solution to the decades-long conflict between Israelis and Palestinians. It led to the loss of an opportunity at the workshop and more violently acted-out anger.
How might we have responded differently?
- One of the facilitators could have responded. The [person] could have explained. Other participants could have reacted.
- Someone, facilitator or participant, needed to validate his anguish—even with a simple "What!?" or "I’m sorry." And "What does everyone here imagine that we are not doing now to help achieve the elusive possibility of progress in the Israeli-Palestinian relationship?"
- A facilitator might have said, "We all have great concerns about the situation [on the ground of the wider conflict]. We’re indebted to [the person] for bringing the depth of concern into this room." Instead, even after the man left, no one mentioned the incident, and no one asked, "What might he have been communicating to us by leaving?"
The ultimate purpose of processing difficult emotions at the collective level
The aim of being in touch with anger in the workshop would be neither pleasure nor a good mood. To get in touch with our anger is an uneven learning process, needing validation and time. But it can lead to careful, interactive, humane consideration of the issues and wise choices about what is the right thing to do. Doing that can avoid displacement and violence.
Why effective change agents must process their own anger, etc.
Psychotherapists and conflict resolution facilitators first need to do the deep work of becoming comfortable with their own anger, humiliation, fear, and grief. Then they may be able to contribute to enabling the power-holders to process their same emotions, rather than glossing over them and thereby enabling rationalization of their behavior.
Are you asking, “Why didn’t Steiner speak up?” I was both angry and concerned that there was no response. However, I lacked the courage to risk saying the wrong thing and being criticized by the other members of the facilitation team. I had not yet evolved to where I might have. That’s where I was at the time.
References
Pamela Steiner, Collective Trauma and the Armenian Genocide: Armenian, Turkish and Azerbaijani Relations Since 1839: Hart/Bloomsbury, 2021. Also see https//pamelasteiner.info
