You do not have to be very insightful to see that we live in a world that tends toward polarization. There are plenty of examples of societies that in recent years have seen how their populations were configured in terms of some tension (economic, political, cultural, or a mixture of all of these) to end up polarized into two groups, similar in size, and ideologically apart. Let us think of some examples, without going into a detailed analysis of any of them: for instance, the United States, a country that in the last presidential elections experienced a bitter division between the supporters of one candidate and another. Finally, the Republican candidate received the 46.1% of the votes cast, and the Democratic candidate 48.2% (although, as is well known, Trump became the president because of the US electoral system). Or think of the referendum on the permanence of the United Kingdom in the European Union, the passions it raised, and its result: 51% of voters chose the winning option and 48% lost. Or the referendum on the peace process in Colombia, even tighter: 50.21% of Colombians voted “no” and 49.78% “yes.” These days, to give one last example, the situation in Catalonia has occupied the first pages of the international media, because of the independence movement that exists there. In the last parliamentary elections (2015) the parties that support independence from Spain obtained 47.7% of the votes, and those not in favor of independence 52.3%.
All these cases, while different, exemplify something similar: how, in matters of great importance, the societies that confront them do not clearly favor one option over the other. Neither the defenders and detractors of Trump, nor those of the Brexit, nor those of the peace agreements in Colombia, nor those of Catalan independence, can boast of having an evident and unappealable social majority. In each case, the winning alternative wins with just a little more support than its counterpart. In addition, the cases cited have in common that the issues at stake generate an extraordinary passion, so that those who support and those who reject one option or another do not want to hear about a compromise solution with the adversary, because to them the opposite position is simple unacceptable. We live in a polarized world.
It seems to us that, in this context, a voice becomes essential: the voice of what we could call the “third way” (borrowing the language that has been used in economics to identify those who propose an intermediate system between capitalism and communism).
Often, in the midst of festering conflicts that shake a society, people or groups emerge that shun the overly simplistic discourse of the two opposing parties and try to elaborate a different, original argument that cannot be pigeonholed on either side. It is the intermediate way, the third way. These tend to be minority and unpopular, precisely because those who defend them want to take into account the complexity of situations and all its nuances, for which others have no time or, indeed, interest. Conflicts (social, political, religious) tend to feed on rather schematic approaches, unfriendly to the thoughtful reflection proposed by the third ways. It would be useful, here, to remember the warnings of the anthropologist René Girard on how crowds normally act: impatiently, without attention to detail, and making easy caricatures of their adversaries. These are attitudes that hinder dialogue and feed the birth of populist tendencies, which in turn can open the door to violence.
A third way will rarely express itself through large demonstrations in the street: marginal, it is often underestimated by the main currents of opinion, which deep down perceive it as a threat to their approaches. Many times, at last, the voice of the third way falls into oblivion. And yet, it is more than likely that the best proposal for the future resided in it.
Those who advocate for a third way can be as radical, vigorous and passionate as those who defend more extreme positions: “third way” does not mean lukewarm at all, but having the will to think in depth, to consider all aspects of the conflict and to reject the appeal of an argument which is attractive in its simplicity, but false because of it.
Many historical representatives of the third way have paid a high price for their commitment to reality and for refusing to fall into populist and sometimes violent simplifications, often ending up rejected by all: and it should not surprise us that many times it has been fanatical elements of their theoretical own “side” those who have eliminated the advocates of a third way. The twentieth century gave us clear examples of this phenomenon. Consider the pacifist and internationalist socialism of Jean Jaurès, who would be assassinated in Paris by a French patriot the same day that the First World War broke out. Even better known are the cases of Gandhi, murdered by a Hindu extremist who did not accept the openness of the father of Indian independence towards the Muslims, or Yitzhak Rabin, killed by an Israeli who opposed the attempts of his prime minister to discuss peace terms with the Palestinians.
From a Christian perspective, to what extent would it not be also legitimate to consider Jesus of Nazareth as representative of a third way, amid the political and social conflict in which he lived his life? He did not approve of the stance of the powerful class in Israel, the Sadducees who ruled in Jerusalem and collaborated with Rome, about whom he had tough things to say, but he did not endorse either the option of the fanatical nationalists, who advocated violent rebellion against the Empire. And, undoubtedly, he upset everyone with his message, free of ideological alliances: Jesus was able to say of a Roman centurion that “I have never found so much faith among the Israelites” (Lk 7:9) and capable, at the same time, of challenging Roman authority when affirming, before the governor who was judging him, that “you would have no power over me unless it were given to you from above” (Jn 19:11). His message, demanding with everyone but also open to all types of people, was misunderstood by the majority. Ultimately, adversaries of all sorts were interested in taking him out of the way.
Endorsing with resolve a third way to attempt to correct the polarization of the society in which one lives can be dangerous. And yet, in our world today, so inclined to defend seemingly irreconcilable extremes, the voice of those who advocate for dialogue, inherent in the third way, seems to us indispensable. Perhaps more than ever.
All these cases, while different, exemplify something similar: how, in matters of great importance, the societies that confront them do not clearly favor one option over the other. Neither the defenders and detractors of Trump, nor those of the Brexit, nor those of the peace agreements in Colombia, nor those of Catalan independence, can boast of having an evident and unappealable social majority. In each case, the winning alternative wins with just a little more support than its counterpart. In addition, the cases cited have in common that the issues at stake generate an extraordinary passion, so that those who support and those who reject one option or another do not want to hear about a compromise solution with the adversary, because to them the opposite position is simple unacceptable. We live in a polarized world.
It seems to us that, in this context, a voice becomes essential: the voice of what we could call the “third way” (borrowing the language that has been used in economics to identify those who propose an intermediate system between capitalism and communism).
Often, in the midst of festering conflicts that shake a society, people or groups emerge that shun the overly simplistic discourse of the two opposing parties and try to elaborate a different, original argument that cannot be pigeonholed on either side. It is the intermediate way, the third way. These tend to be minority and unpopular, precisely because those who defend them want to take into account the complexity of situations and all its nuances, for which others have no time or, indeed, interest. Conflicts (social, political, religious) tend to feed on rather schematic approaches, unfriendly to the thoughtful reflection proposed by the third ways. It would be useful, here, to remember the warnings of the anthropologist René Girard on how crowds normally act: impatiently, without attention to detail, and making easy caricatures of their adversaries. These are attitudes that hinder dialogue and feed the birth of populist tendencies, which in turn can open the door to violence.
A third way will rarely express itself through large demonstrations in the street: marginal, it is often underestimated by the main currents of opinion, which deep down perceive it as a threat to their approaches. Many times, at last, the voice of the third way falls into oblivion. And yet, it is more than likely that the best proposal for the future resided in it.
Those who advocate for a third way can be as radical, vigorous and passionate as those who defend more extreme positions: “third way” does not mean lukewarm at all, but having the will to think in depth, to consider all aspects of the conflict and to reject the appeal of an argument which is attractive in its simplicity, but false because of it.
Many historical representatives of the third way have paid a high price for their commitment to reality and for refusing to fall into populist and sometimes violent simplifications, often ending up rejected by all: and it should not surprise us that many times it has been fanatical elements of their theoretical own “side” those who have eliminated the advocates of a third way. The twentieth century gave us clear examples of this phenomenon. Consider the pacifist and internationalist socialism of Jean Jaurès, who would be assassinated in Paris by a French patriot the same day that the First World War broke out. Even better known are the cases of Gandhi, murdered by a Hindu extremist who did not accept the openness of the father of Indian independence towards the Muslims, or Yitzhak Rabin, killed by an Israeli who opposed the attempts of his prime minister to discuss peace terms with the Palestinians.
From a Christian perspective, to what extent would it not be also legitimate to consider Jesus of Nazareth as representative of a third way, amid the political and social conflict in which he lived his life? He did not approve of the stance of the powerful class in Israel, the Sadducees who ruled in Jerusalem and collaborated with Rome, about whom he had tough things to say, but he did not endorse either the option of the fanatical nationalists, who advocated violent rebellion against the Empire. And, undoubtedly, he upset everyone with his message, free of ideological alliances: Jesus was able to say of a Roman centurion that “I have never found so much faith among the Israelites” (Lk 7:9) and capable, at the same time, of challenging Roman authority when affirming, before the governor who was judging him, that “you would have no power over me unless it were given to you from above” (Jn 19:11). His message, demanding with everyone but also open to all types of people, was misunderstood by the majority. Ultimately, adversaries of all sorts were interested in taking him out of the way.
Endorsing with resolve a third way to attempt to correct the polarization of the society in which one lives can be dangerous. And yet, in our world today, so inclined to defend seemingly irreconcilable extremes, the voice of those who advocate for dialogue, inherent in the third way, seems to us indispensable. Perhaps more than ever.
