Neither Hannibal nor Scipio participated at the Metaurus (207), but it was the war’s turning point: Ennius thought Juno was now at last reconciled with Rome, and Livy presented Rome’s victory over Hannibal’s brother Hasdrubal as revenge for Cannae. Things looked bad for Rome after both consuls of 208, Marcellus and Crispinus, died in battle. Roman success was made possible by another reconciliation, between two old enemies the consuls Salinator and Nero. Nero’s forced march up Italy was enthusiastically greeted and fed en route. He returned south and threw Hasdrubal’s head before Hannibal’s camp. Appendix 8.1 concludes that Salinator was not a senior decemuir (priest) in 236. Appendix 8.2 discusses Roman battle vows and asks why Livy omitted Salinator’s Metaurus vow in his battle narrative. Appendix 8.3 examines the unusual joint triumph of Salinator and Nero. Appendix 8.4 shows another name (Sena) for Metaurus was current before Horace immortalized it.

This chapter argues that building strong institutions and a productive economy in the aftermath of conflict is not enough and that rebuilding lost social capital and trust is of paramount importance. Intergroup trust matters deeply, as the same formal institutions can have divergent effects in different social structures and for different levels of social capital. Starting from the so-called contact hypothesis that fostering positive intergroup interaction builds trust, it is argued that reconciliation and the rebuilding of social trust are also part of the promising blend of propeace policies. A variety of empirical studies are discussed, ranging from reconciliation efforts in Rwanda and Sierra Leone to programs fostering intergroup contacts in Spain, Nigeria, India and Iraq. While we find that more intense group contacts deploy typically desirable effects, trying to achieve reconciliation by altering beliefs through media campaigns is a double-edged sword that involves a series of dangers. We conclude this chapter by stressing the key role of stepping up critical thinking.

Normatively speaking, Christianity involves a rejection of “us versus them” ways of thinking and speaking. Christian political advocacy must thereby testify to the reconciliation of all people. It would be ironic, even self-defeating, to advocate for Christian commitments in ways that reify divisions between people or deny opponents’ human dignity. But Christians can still make prophetic and incisive criticisms, take controversial stands, and employ rigorous argumentation. Drawing upon the work of Desmond Tutu and J. Deotis Roberts, I argue that Christian witness always proceeds as “good news.” Good news is not only the content but the form of Christian proclamation. Christian speech disrupts systems of injustice and dehumanizing myths, while simultaneously expressing the truth that every person – even those who are currently oppressors – is a beloved child of God. This conclusion can help Christians engage in political, ethical, and cultural conflicts in ways that are simultaneously more persuasive and more faithful to their convictions.

Three weeks after and three hundred kilometers from end of the World Peace Brigade’s Friendship March in Northeast India, The Nagaland Baptist Church Council called for a peace mission to arbitrate between the Indian Government and Naga nationalist insurgents, choosing Jayaprakash (JP) Narayan and Michael Scott as members. Peace negotiations under the auspices of a civil society mission that did not officially represent either a nationalist movement or a state government seemed safely apolitical. However, the transnational network in which JP and Scott were key members was integrated into official government as well as international institutional circles of power and affiliated with a number of sometimes overlapping, sometimes contradictory movements and interests. JP and Scott were far from politically disinterested free agents—and the web of political causes that bound them extended to the Peace Mission, constraining its impact. JP’s resignation from the mission and Scott’s deportation from India marked the end of the influence and international opportunity for their network’s advocacy work on behalf of states-in-waiting.

Many of the unofficial advocates for states-in-waiting were individuals affiliated or identified with the international peace movement. These transnational advocates often found themselves championing independence struggles in states-in-waiting that were situated within newly decolonized postcolonial nation-states. While some within these postcolonial state governments may themselves have relied on these advocates during their own independence struggles, they opposed such advocacy after they won their independence, since it had the potential to undermine their own state sovereignty. The 1963 Friendship March – launched by the World Peace Brigade, a transnational civil society organization set up to find peaceful solutions to global decolonization, exemplified this contradiction. The Friendship March started in New Delhi, India, and intended to cross the Chinese border in the immediate aftermath of the 1962 Sino-Indian War.

This chapter follows Baeck’s thought after his arrival to Theresienstadt Ghetto in January 1943, and his relationship with Germany and the Germans in the aftermath of the Holocaust. The chapter reconstructs Baeck’s imperial imagination while in the ghetto. Despite the harsh conditions, Baeck insisted that hope was possible and in fact necessary. He made this point by contrasting the prophets with the Western historiographical tradition, which he identified as espousing historical pessimism. Evil empires that thrived only on power and violent means, he comforted his audience in the camp, would eventually collapse and be left in ruins. Following liberation, Baeck returned to earlier ideas, identifying Marcionism as well as the historical pessimism as giving rise to Nazism. Baeck initially expressed skepticism about the possibility of a re-emergence of Germany, later he seemed to have slightly amended his position, leaving space for a tentative reopening of the conversation between Jews and Germans.

This chapter introduces the micro-sociological approach to the study and practice of conflict transformation. Unlike traditional conceptions of conflict resolution and transformation, the micro-sociological approach does not seek to address the root causes of a conflict in the sense of “that which the conflict is about,” but rather to change the interaction patterns and the larger web of relations sustaining and making up the intergroup or international conflict. Rather than a tree with deep roots, conflict is envisioned as a system of rhizomes; that is, a web of interactions. The chapter discusses how antagonistic interaction can be disrupted and transformed with the assistance of a mediator or through social activities, and how rituals of apology and reconciliation can restore relationships. Moreover, the chapter analyzes the micro-sociological significance of turning points, shared laughter and domination in processes of dialogue. Finally, the chapter discusses the challenges to conflict transformation.

The Afterword reflects on the peculiarities of the CCP’s politics of historical justice. Placing the results of the volume in the larger context of transitional justice research, it discusses the reasons why the policies of “bringing order out of chaos” (boluan fanzheng) generated short-term cohesion but did not result in meaningful political reconciliation. The party leadership, despite a few alternative statements by high-ranking leaders in the early 1980s, did not allow for multivocal discussions of guilt and responsibility. Instead, it attempted to pacify the populace through financial subsidies, symbolic rehabilitations, and highly selective persecutions of supposed perpetrators. The core strategy under Deng Xiaoping was to overcome the legacies of the past through a focus on economic development and the depoliticization of past conflicts. An increasingly rigid truth regime was installed and enshrined in the 1981 resolution on party history. The contradictions between lived experience and these official formulae resulted in a pronounced shift toward historical amnesia in the following decades, as the legacies of the Mao era have become increasingly incorporated into a larger narrative of national rejuvenation and regaining great power status.