Hope is a Political Act

In the aftermath of the latest United States presidential election, I have been struck by the airtime given to discussing the naivety of those who thought Kamala Harris would win. I thought she would win, or rather I hoped she would. Maybe those statements are not so different. Can I disentangle my hope from my expectation, and my expectation from my action? A feeling of hopelessness is common in current discussions around climate change, increases in violent conflict, the crises of democratic incumbents and low voter turnout. Can my hope, and the hope of others, create a powerful political statement of discontent and importantly change?

What is hope? Barack Obama famously said that “Hope is that thing inside us that insists, despite all evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it, and to work for it, and to fight for it”. Yes, hope is optimism, but it can also be a powerful political act. For the poet Rumi, hope and despair are intimately linked, with hope a gift which comes to us in dark times. Hope says that while ‘x’ may not be certain, it is possible. The mere belief that something could be different is a message of defiance, of claiming that change can one day come, regardless of what those in power might say. It is, in fact, very convenient to those in power if no-one believes in the possibility of change. For many years I had a Victor Hugo quote on my office door, “There is one thing stronger than all the armies in the world, and that is an idea whose time has come”. Thinking about it now, this quote was a reassurance to myself (and my students) that the pen I wield as a peace and justice academic is mightier than the swords I write about. The act of putting an idea into the world, of supporting the idea of another, of repeating again and again an idea of hope, is a concrete act which may be more powerful than it seems. 

Who can hope? If we accept that hope can be a concrete act with powerful transformational possibilities, then we need to ensure that we can all engage in hope. However, hope is not evenly distributed across and between societies. What is it that allows me to hope? The fact that I live in a stable, relatively wealthy country, that I don’t worry about feeding my children, that I experience daily acts of love and care, that I feel I have a voice and that sometimes others will listen. This is not to say that people living in different circumstances cannot hope, but this is what makes having hope feel easier for me in the context of my life. Surely a key challenge of our time should be to ensure equal access to hope. The reason why this is important goes beyond the wellbeing of individuals whose mental health may be uplifted through the belief that things can and will get better. Equality of hope is also important because the more of us who can hope for change, the more those who benefit from the status quo can be held accountable. Precisely because hope is political, a statement that change is possible, it follows that it must be widely and inclusively distributed.  

What can generate hope? If we each reside in different circumstances, which in turn determine our access to hope, then we should start by acknowledging this with our friends and family, our local communities, and on a national and global scale. We should begin to list and to tackle the circumstances that generate inequalities of hope. This will overlap with other social, economic and political projects which seek to (re)distribute opportunities and wealth. This requires each of us to be agents of hope, not as caricatures of foolish optimism, but as very real members of shared communities who know that our expression of hope is a reminder to all who profit from inequality that maybe our time is about to come.

December 2024