We now have an agreement with Iran to restrain their pursuit of nuclear weapons, but just how good a deal is it? President Obama, congress, presidential contenders, and political commentators are debating that right now.
Several faith leaders and groups have offered clear-eyed support. Even so, some have framed it as the best way to make peace with our enemies, calling Iran an enemy of peace itself.
But just what is an enemy? We don’t often ask that question because we think the answer is obvious: enemies are bad guys who hate us for no good reason. An enemy is so unlike us that we compare ourselves to them in terms of opposites: rational/ irrational, nonviolent/ violent, law abiding/ criminal, and just/ unjust. We believe that we have absolutely nothing in common with our enemy except perhaps a shared desire to defeat the other.
The Terrible Twos: A Parable
But I think that way of thinking about enemies is just plain wrong. The cause of the mistake is a basic misunderstanding of human psychology — specifically the psychology of desire. Our enemies are not our opposites; they are the mirror image of our desires. In this way, an “enemy” is not someone separate and distinct from us. Who we see as our enemy is a product of our relationship with that person.
The best way I know of illustrating this is with a story about desire in my 2-year-old granddaughter, Grace.
Grace is at that “terrible” age when her desires often seem at odds with the adults around her. But mostly she’s not so much terrible as just annoying — like when she won’t eat her own food but devours what’s on her mom’s plate; or when she wants to “help” fold the clothes. Like all terrible twos, Grace is an imitator on steroids. Whatever we do, that’s what she wants to do, too. Which is how she learns to do things, of course. Grace is learning how to be a grown-up by imitating grown-ups. Which is natural and good, not terrible at all.
The terrible kicks in when Grace seems to be determined to do the opposite of what we want. For example, when we try to do something we think she needs help with, like pour her milk, she screams — which is her wordless version of, “You’re not the boss of me!” If we insist on pouring the milk for her, it leads to the dreaded power struggle. Hey, what parent hasn’t gotten into a tug of war over pouring milk or bedtime or what to wear to school, and lost? Our kids seem determined to defy us just for the sport of it and it’s hard not to feel that our sweet two-year-old has turned into a demon child.
But here’s the catch: Grace’s defiance is also an act of imitation — except that she’s imitating something we want to keep sole possession of: the power to decide things for ourselves. When Mom displays her own ability to make decisions and impose her will on Grace, Grace will have none of it. She wants to be just like Mommy in everything, including being the boss of herself!
In fact, the more we refuse to share the privilege of being her boss, the more desirable it becomes to her. We would never call Grace our enemy, but boy oh boy, it sure does feel like it sometimes!
The Psychology of Desire
This is basic desire psychology. The thing we won’t share is the thing we most value — and that will provoke desire in others. So what does this have to do with Iran, the so-called enemy of the U.S.? Iran may be our enemy, but its desire for nuclear weapons is, in fact, a perfect imitation of our own. I am not discounting the dangers to U.S. security if nuclear weapons get into the wrong hands. No hands could be more wrong than those of an enemy, especially if one is truly an “enemy of peace.” But the U.S. may risk becoming an enemy of peace as well when it blames others for desires they learned from us.
Let me be clear: Iran is no more a child than we are. We are equals, mirror images of each other’s desires for nuclear weapons and global respect. Conflict begins with shared desires. Ironically, so does friendship. The difference between enemies and friends is that friends enjoying sharing desires and enemies deny that it’s happening. Remember, if Iran refuses to relinquish their desire for nuclear weapons, it’s not defiance — it’s imitation. And yet it may be easier than we think to find a way to make peace with this particular enemy. The path is obvious and available to us: we can renounce our desire for a nuclear arsenal. That’s a desire worth sharing and enjoying with friends.