From the Editor's Desk

Thanks to the era of satellite technology, I spoke several times this month with people in Kenya -- some of the ordinary, amazing peacemakers whose perspectives are highlighted in this issue. Each of them spoke to me by cell phone, of course, so they all stepped outside of whatever building they were in so as to get better reception. I sat in my apartment in Dorchester, Massachusetts looking out at the snowy street and hearing Kenyan chickens squawking in the sunshine.

We humans conversing on the phone had no trouble understanding one another, in spite of the vast distances between us and the stark differences in our situations. At least, I don't think there was much of a gap -- we all spoke English, and politics, and "Quakerese." As the picture in Kenya continued to change rapidly, we tried to use these languages to share information about how that picture looked from different vantage points. They tried to share with me what US readers need to know in order to stand in solidarity with ordinary Kenyan citizens who -- having only recently shaken off a series of dictatorships cynically bequeathed them by a departing colonial democracy -- thronged to the polls in December to bring their country the next step forward toward the multi-ethnic, multi-religious nation they stubbornly envision. Kenyans know well that this vision can not be realized while millions are living in poverty, no matter how "robust" and "stable" international commentators claim Kenya is based on the amount of money flowing out of it. And they know that as long as the security forces are unaccountable to the people, and corruption is rampant, their ethnic variety will make them vulnerable to the kind of exploitation that has turned desperate people against one another in these past weeks. In turn, I told them how the picture was being presented in the US press, often with racist overtones, as a regrettable outbreak of disorderliness in a country that until recently was held up as a regional role model of democracy. Needless to say, I had more to learn than they did.

I was not able to speak with our authors in the Occupied Palestinian Territories, but again thanks to communication technology -- this time in the form of digital cameras and the Internet -- we can nonetheless see some of what makes up daily life in this part of the world. As the siege in Gaza grinds on, desperation and insecurity pose the same obstacles to nonviolent community-building, and to the energetic restoration of democratic integrity, that they do in Kenya's slums. Yet in Israel-Palestine, too, people persist. The doctors in Gaza continue to try and heal patients. Some Israelis across the wall continue to act as neighbors, trying to stay in communication and advocating for an end to the illegal, immoral, and devastating siege. Wherever in the world ordinary citizens are divided against one another by those who fear the real potential power of a functioning democracy, the desire for peace draws people to the same actions: they listen to each other, they march together, and they protect each other from violence even if they might not have voted the same way. They cross borders.

As powerful as the technology is, it is not the essence of what brings us together across those borders. Computers can bring us the stories and the pictures, but what makes those stories worth hearing are the human testimonies, the human sorrow, and the human courage that infuse them. And the occasional chicken.

Sara Burke, Co-Editor