Micawberism is an optimistic ideology that leaders may use to put off making peace today under the conviction that something will happen in the future to bring this peace. “The Micawberist proclivity to delay is reinforced by ambiguity and unpredictability, which allow leaders to continue to look forward to a day when something good will turn up” (Schweller, p. 145, 2005). This mislaid optimism can become the greatest enemy of peace, to which Orme suggests strategies of action. Orme states that, “In many instances demonstrations of strength offer the best and perhaps only hope of breaking a diplomatic deadlock and opening a path to peace…Pessimism, not trust or goodwill, is the most important precondition for success in diplomacy and nothing is more effective in creating it than a credible threat of force” (Schweller, p. 208, 2005). This suggests that it is not the idea of general accord that creates peace, but rather action itself. This is the paradox of peace; the idea that “the threat of war, or [even] war itself can be required to start the process of peace through compromise (Schweller, 2005).  Galtung is one for the first that aims to rethink peace by coining the terms positive and negative peace in the mid 1900s. He defines positive peace as “cooperation and integration between major human groups” and negative peace as the absence of conflict [and organized violence] (Galtung, 1969; Braddon, 2012). In this context, positive peace differentiates itself considering by actually being a process that is by no means easy to achieve and requires high amounts of cooperation and selflessness. In fact, both act as metaphors for capturing the complexity of peace. Both definitions also explain peace in terms of what it is not, rather than what it is. In this way, peace begins taking the shape of a verb rather than a noun. However, rethinking peace analyzing discourse, memory, translation and dialogue in depth, in this exact order (Shani, 2017). Thus, they are all rooted within the principles of hypostasis, teleology, normative and enterprise (Shani, 2017). 

Discourse are stars that give us the opportunity to make up thousands of constellations. Peace discourse in particular has its own sets of constellations, which began in the twentieth century “as a critique of the hegemonic trend in the theory, and practice of international relations” (Shani, 2017). Discourse has made it so that people are continuously skeptical, optimistic and genuinely curious about the direction peace is headed. There are thousands of new findings each year that add to our understandings of peace but the problem becomes if it turns into passive discourse, meaning it lacks action. For instance, somebody interested in this area of scholarship can decide to talk share their research findings by publishing books and writing articles for top leading journals. This is a way to move discourse forward but who actually reads this? It is often a particular set of people – professors, academics, doctoral students and even graduate students. However, what about the “normal” everyday person who has a blue-collar job or one that we pass down the street? What about people who do not have the time or resources to read an 80,000 word PhD thesis but whose findings can tremendously impact their lives and those in their community? How can their thoughts be included in discourse as we rethink peace? Helping discourse become fluid and move beyond one channel is key. Furthermore, when this happens and people are left out of the “discourse” of peace it becomes unequal and therefore contributes not to peace itself but to the opposite of peace-creating limits and separation. This separation feeds into inequality and oppression, which are catalysts for anything but peace. If peace research is to truly contribute to building and enhancing peace, there must be a way for it to be all inclusive, and to focus on those marginalized populations that suffer the most from the absence of peace. Peace scholarship can easily be expressed through art such as a painting, a performance or even poetry. Currently, opera has become a way to shed light on mental health issues, theater has become a channel to criticize structures of power in Spain and a child’s painting has build a space for conversations around the struggles of street children in Bolivia. Initiatives like these among others are powerful platforms that add to the discourse of peace. Memory is the second pillar. Arlberg (2017), Professor at the International Christian University, begins by stating, “I remember something I never knew or I was given a new memory about someone who before had been not only nameless but also without a place” (p. 6) showing how a memory can easily be imprinted in someone and this is especially true when it comes to history. Non-state actors, religion, gender, environmental issues play a big role in creating these memories. Nonetheless, “memory can be a means towards peace or towards further conflict” (Alberg, 2017) especially when they painful, repressed or not fully processed and we see some play out today. For instance, in a study (Cohen, 2004) related to peace, forgiveness was explored among Holocaust survivors. 

Findings indicated that some of the survivors felt comfortable among German people. Whereas, others stated “that they would never [even] take a ride in a German car” (par 5). And when they were asked if forgiveness were ever to be possible, most emphasized the importance of memory. They all stressed the importance of remembering the Holocaust. In this case, not only do we see how memory holds great value, but also the idea of honoring memories as a path for peace. It is also a channel for vulnerability and one that should be further explored. Despite there are painful memories “connected to defeat and justice” (Alberg, 2017), they should not stay as wounds but should heal through the spark of new memories and dialogue. One example of this possible disparity in opinions of peace is the assassination of a previous four-time Prime Minister of Japan by a Korean-independence activist by the name of An Jung-geun. This historical example carries controversy because in Korea, Jung-geun is seen as a hero, with Korea on the verge of annexation by Japan at the time of the assassination. Jung-geun was given several awards for his efforts towards Korean independence. However, while he is considered a hero in Korea, to the people of Japan, he is considered a terrorist. This is a prime example of how historical efforts can look different depending on citizenship, and how an action can look like one of peace to one population, and an act of violence to another.  

Translation follows memory as an important step for mutual understanding. Though it is not initially apparent, it is a crucial part “of war and cultural studies since one has to translate identities” (Alberg, 2017. p. 3); and as Alberg states, “we cannot ignore those who deserve a place at the table but do not understand the language being spoken at that table” (p. 6). And in the context of peace, is translation really that useful? For instance, in Japanese, Hewa’s [peace] kanji consists of equality and harmony. However, in Quechua, the Inca indigenous language, peace translates differently. It is known as Sonqotiaykuy, which has a peace and love connotation to it. Sonqo is love, and qotiaykuy covers both spiritual and physical aspects of one’s well being (Zavala, 2014). Furthermore, qotiaykuy is also the word for land, showing how peace and sacred land interconnected in a different context. In Hebrew, the word peace translates to a sense of completeness and welfare which is also used for both their hello and goodbye. In other languages like Spanish, French and Arabic, it may hold a different meaning but the levels of translation despite its flaws aims to “message through, preserve identity and allows for communication to continue especially in the field of peace. It is a noble and yet, at the same time, a mundane task” (p. 5).  Last but not least “active” dialogue, is the last pillar for rethinking peace. It is a word that is often overused when solutions are proposed by top organizations such as the United Nations and smaller scale non-profits as well so what makes it valuable in the eyes of both? The fact that it is assumed that “dialogue has powers that provide a path to peace, overcoming silence and repression, founts of conflict” (Hinton, 2017) makes it an important channel. The idea that dialogue will lead to conflict resolution is just the surface. In Hinton’s words, it unpacks ontological assumptions and focuses on approaches instead. It is supposed to be fluid and liberal peacebuilding is a great example of moving dialogue. 

It is often believed that liberal peacebuilding attempts to create space for dialogue. However according to Paris (2010), “saving liberal peace does not mean blindly defending current international practices. On the contrary, the principles and methods of these missions need to be challenged and analyzed continuously. [And despite its] prone to unanticipated consequences, it is too important to lose or abandon” (Paris, 2010, p. 4). Thus, showing that analyzing continuously requires dialogue, not only among those in the field but also those outside the field. For instance, dialogue permits one to acknowledge that liberal peacebuilding is more than just an approach, it is encouraging local voices to come together, reconstructing the economic and security sector of the “package” it represents and encouraging people to gain access to education so that they know their rights and do not get taken advantage of. The local turn also becomes an important component to the continuation of liberal peacebuilding because it calls for a hybrid peace model to address the shortcoming of peace. Due to the failure of peace processes in Cambodia, Rwanda, Nicaragua, and Bosnia, the United Nations has accepted the fact that they need to deal with the locals (Paris, 2010), making it so that hybrid structures themselves are rethought. Dialogue has been a requirement for them to get to this point and one that should continue.