Notes on Boston Globe report on Public Conversations Project: “Talking with the enemy,” Sunday, Jan 28th , 2001
“To help us listen and speak across this divide, ground rules were critical:
‒ We would seek to use terms acceptable (or at least tolerable) to all participants.
‒ We would not interrupt, grandstand, or make personal attacks.
‒ We would speak for ourselves, not as representatives of organizations.
‒ Most important, the meetings would be completely confidential unless all of us could agree upon a way to go public.
We also made a commitment that some of us still find agonizingly difficult:
‒ to shift our focus away from arguing for our cause. This agreement was designed to prevent rancorous debates.
And indeed, we believe this ground rule has been essential to the long life of our dialogue.
‒ Knowing that our ideas would be challenged, but not attacked, we have been able to listen openly and speak candidly.
Our ground rules also required us to refrain from polarizing rhetoric. In one early session, we generated a list of ''hot buttons'' - words and phrases that make it almost impossible for some of us to think clearly, listen carefully, or respond constructively:
‒ Prochoice members are inflamed when called ''murderers'' or when abortions are likened to the Holocaust or to ''genocide.''
‒ Prolife participants are incensed by dehumanizing phrases such as ''products of conception'' and ''termination of pregnancy'' that obscure their belief that abortion is killing.
We also discussed stereotypes we thought were applied to us by people ''on the other side:”
‒ Prolife participants feel maligned when characterized as religious fanatics taking orders from men, or as uneducated, prudish individuals, indifferent to women in crisis and to children after they are born.
‒ Prochoice members are offended by labels such as anti-child, anti-men, anti-family, elitist, frivolous, self-centered, and immoral.
Despite the strains of these early meetings, we grew closer to each other. At one session, each of us told the group why she had devoted so much of her time, energy, and talents to the abortion issue. These accounts - all deeply personal - enlightened and moved us.
After the fourth meeting, we agreed to extend our sessions through the one-year anniversary of the shootings - an occasion, we feared, when tensions over abortion might ignite in Boston.
On the evening of Dec. 30, 1995, a prolife church service: all prochoice participants attended the service.
‒ This increased understanding affected how we spoke as leaders of our respective movements.
‒ The news media, unaware that we were meeting, began noting differences in our public statements.
‒ ''Toning down the rhetoric is critical. It's not just better manners, but it turns out it's also better politics. ... We reach people we may never otherwise have reached with the message.''
‒ ''I was struck by the media's desire for conflict. One host of a radio talk show actually encouraged me to attack my opponent personally.''
At one point, prolife advocates acted to keep proponents of violence away from Massachusetts.
A growing trust opened a ''hot line'' channel of reliable communication between us. The prolife leaders alerted a prochoicer there was a possibility of imminent physical danger. ''It lowered my anxiety - and moved me deeply - to know that there were people on the other side who were concerned about my safety,' she said.
One provocative word has been ''violence:''
‒ Prochoice leaders use it to refer to shootings and other attacks on clinics, doctors, and staff
‒ Prolife activists believe that abortion also is a violent act.
In writing this article, we came to an impasse when one side mentioned the Declaration of Independence:
‒ The prolife participants wished to cite the Declaration as a presentation of their core belief that the right to life is inalienable and self-evident.
‒ The prochoice members passionately objected to what they saw as an appropriation of a document that they also cherish. To them, the Declaration affirms every person's right to life and liberty.
In these and all of our discussions of differences, we strained to reach those on the other side who could not accept - or at times comprehend - our beliefs. We challenged each other to dig deeply, defining exactly what we believe, why we believe it, and what we still do not understand.
These conversations revealed a deep divide.
We saw that our differences on abortion reflect two world views that are irreconcilable.
If this is true, then why do we continue to meet?
‒ First, because when we face our opponent, we see her dignity and goodness. Embracing this apparent contradiction stretches us spiritually. We've experienced something radical and life-altering that we describe in nonpolitical terms: ''the mystery of love,'' ''holy ground,'' or simply, ''mysterious.''
‒ We continue because we are stretched intellectually, as well. This has been a rare opportunity to engage in sustained, candid conversations about serious moral disagreements. It has made our thinking sharper and our language more precise.
‒ We hope, too, that we have become wiser and more effective leaders.
‒ We are more knowledgeable about our political opponents.
‒ We have learned to avoid being overreactive and disparaging to the other side and to focus instead on affirming our respective causes.
Since that first fear-filled meeting, we have experienced a paradox. While learning to treat each other with dignity and respect, we all have become firmer in our views about abortion.
We hope this account of our experience will encourage people everywhere to consider engaging in dialogues about abortion and other protracted disputes. In this world of polarizing conflicts, we have glimpsed a new possibility: a way in which people can disagree frankly and passionately, become clearer in heart and mind about their activism, and, at the same time, contribute to a more civil and compassionate society.