As part of my journey towards understanding what brings us together and what keeps us apart, today I want to share three examples of social dialogue I learned about in the past couple of weeks. I will resist the temptation to draw conclusions prematurely, but just let us all ruminate together with these three examples.

The first is from Nelson Mandela’s autobiography — Long Walk to Freedom — which I’m currently reading.

The second is a description of traditional dispute resolution in pre-partition Punjab from a recent interview I did with Somia Sadiq.

And the third is from a listener who called me yesterday and shared his experiences with a facilitator named Bob Chadwick. I’ll share a little bit of what I learned in the call and then read a passage from Chadwick that I found online.

So, I don’t know how you see yourself in this moment, but I see you as someone, like me, who is interested in and capable of preventing a civil war. Someone whose actions or inaction will have a lot of consequences where you live, not just this year or this election cycle, but for the next generation and the next phase in our social development.

With that in mind, here we go:

1 Mandela

From: Long Walk to Freedom (PDF)

My later notions of leadership were profoundly influenced by observing the regent and his court. I watched and learned from the tribal meetings that were regularly held at the Great Place. These were not scheduled, but were called as needed, and were held to discuss national matters such as a drought, the culling of cattle, policies ordered by the magistrate, or new laws decreed by the government. All Thembus were free to come — and a great many did, on horseback or by foot.

On these occasions, the regent was surrounded by his amaphakathi, a group of councilors of high rank who functioned as the regent’s parliament and judiciary. They were wise men who retained the knowledge of tribal history and custom in their heads and whose opinions carried great weight.

Letters advising these chiefs and headmen of a meeting were dispatched from the regent, and soon the Great Place became alive with important visitors and travelers from all over Thembuland. The guests would gather in the courtyard in front of the regent’s house and he would open the meeting by thanking everyone for coming and explaining why he had summoned them. From that point on, he would not utter another word until the meeting was nearing its end.

Everyone who wanted to speak did so. It was democracy in its purest form. There may have been a hierarchy of importance among the speakers, but everyone was heard, chief and subject, warrior and medicine man, shopkeeper and farmer, landowner and laborer. People spoke without interruption and the meetings lasted for many hours. The foundation of self-government was that all men were free to voice their opinions and equal in their value as citizens. (Women, I am afraid, were deemed second-class citizens.)

A great banquet was served during the day, and I often gave myself a bellyache by eating too much while listening to speaker after speaker. I noticed how some speakers rambled and never seemed to get to the point. I grasped how others came to the matter at hand directly, and who made a set of arguments succinctly and cogently. I observed how some speakers used emotion and dramatic language, and tried to move the audience with such techniques, while other speakers were sober and even, and shunned emotion.

At first, I was astonished by the vehemence — and candor — with which people criticized the regent. He was not above criticism — in fact, he was often the principal target of it. But no matter how flagrant the charge, the regent simply listened, not defending himself, showing no emotion at all.

The meetings would continue until some kind of consensus was reached. They ended in unanimity or not at all. Unanimity, however, might be an agreement to disagree, to wait for a more propitious time to propose a solution. Democracy meant all men were to be heard, and a decision was taken together as a people. Majority rule was a foreign notion. A minority was not to be crushed by a majority.

Only at the end of the meeting, as the sun was setting, would the regent speak. His purpose was to sum up what had been said and form some consensus among the diverse opinions. But no conclusion was forced on people who disagreed. If no agreement could be reached, another meeting would be held. At the very end of the council, a praise-singer or poet would deliver a panegyric to the ancient kings, and a mixture of compliments to and satire on the present chiefs, and the audience, led by the regent, would roar with laughter.

As a leader, I have always followed the principles I first saw demonstrated by the regent at the Great Place. I have always endeavored to listen to what each and every person in a discussion had to say before venturing my own opinion. Oftentimes, my own opinion will simply represent a consensus of what I heard in the discussion. I always remember the regent’s axiom: a leader, he said, is like a shepherd. He stays behind the flock, letting the most nimble go out ahead, whereupon the others follow, not realizing that all along they are being directed from behind.

2 Somia

From: http://10kh.show/00117-every-conflict-hides-a-story-with-somia-sadiq
28:30 – 31:30

In the interview, Somia talks about how her grandparents, who were mediators of a kind, would organize a dispute resolution circle. The particular example she mentioned was the theft of some water buffalo but my guess is that the pattern holds under many circumstances.

1. Everybody shows up and sets up to camp out for a while:

• The victims of the crime
• The accused
• Other people who were affected
• People who are just curious and have some free time

1. Everybody is asked and gets to respond to the following questions, over 4 days:

• How have you been wronged?
  • Everybody chimes in
• How has this conflict impacted you?
  • Everybody chimes in
• What should the repercussions be?
  • Everybody chimes in
• How would these repercussions impact you?
  • Everybody chimes in

Each of these questions builds empathy and softens revenge-ish behavior.

This happens over 4 days. Meanwhile, everybody eats together and has chai together the whole time.

The apology includes all of that information.

3 Stuart

From my call with Stuart:

All about slowing down

1. 3 days
2. Grounding questions
3. Fears and hopes

(lots more detail in the podcast version, folks…)

From: Bob Chadwick, https://managingwholes.com/chadwick.htm/

“
People in positions of authority have been taught, in word and deed, to take responsibility for the actions of those in their “care.” The power (parent) figure is often seen looming over the shoulders of those provided a task to do. They are there, of course, to provide guidance, to answer any questions, to immediately correct any deviation from the direction.

This is known as “management control.” It is based on the subtle, and never expressed belief that those given directions, like children, must be guided by the parent figure.

This approach has some validity in some circumstances, like learning a new process with people entirely new to a situation. It is limiting in its effect on the participants, and its impact on time in other situations.

As soon as the participants sense they are dependent on the power figure, they will begin to determine what they need to do to get approval. This will include asking questions to clarify what the leader said. Or, maybe asking how to do the task. The leader is prone to explain, then overexplain what is needed, using tones that indicate the listeners are children, or simpleminded.

Those who resent power will challenge the leader’s information, or task. This will lead to a power struggle, until the leader asserts her authority. All this takes time away from accomplishing the task, and focuses on the leader rather than the participants as the important persons.

As the leader roams the room, looking and listening into each group, aloof yet in charge, members of the group will engage in conversation with her. Or, she may enter the group and end up in a debate over the task.

The net result is to shift the attention to the leader, to allow the participants to behave as children, unable to cope with the simple task. This creates codependent behavior. The participants will continuously look to the leader for signs of approval, aware of her every movement, signs of displeasure. They look for cues to determine the information they need to develop to satisfy the leader.

In the consensus process, this role is changed. The leader learns to detach from the group as soon as the task is given. Detachment means leaving the circle of participants, sometimes even turning your back on them, or leaving the room. This places the participants in control of doing the task.

If there are questions, the participants are told to use their own judgment. If the questioner asks how to accomplish the task they are told:

“Whatever you decide to do is up to you.”

If the facilitator is challenged about the task, the challenger is told to do what they feel is best. This leaves the power with the person, the group. They are empowered to do the task.

If the group answers a question different than the one asked, the information is accepted as part of the information base. It must be needed for the group to hear. Or, the question answered was better than the one asked.

This is a different approach, because it means the leader becomes a facilitator, trusting in the individuals and the group, expecting them to respond in an adult way. Rarely will you be disappointed. Expect some laughter, some “horsing around,” as the group becomes used to freedom. Stay with them, and they will eventually focus on the issues and the situation.
“

Conclusion

None.

The obvious takeaway from each of these three examples is slowness builds the community that can handle conflict.

How to implement that in a culture where almost everything else is pushing in the opposite direction is an open question, for me.

As always, I’d love to hear from you. The best way to get in contact is to sign up for my newsletter at http://tenthousandheroes.club or http://ankurdelight.com, or to find me as Ankur Shah Delight on LinkedIn and take it from there.

Thank you for your time, your intention, and your desire to do something constructive. And remember, we are neither perfect nor alone.