I have been granted the immense honor to host on my blog the commencement speech addressed today by Dr. Óscar Arias Sánchez, Nobel Peace Laureate and two times Costa Rican president, to the alumni graduating from Soka University at Hachioji, Tokyo, Japan. Here are his inspiring words for a world that urgently needs more peace:
"Esteemed faculty, graduates, and families:
Friendship is one of the most beautiful and
mysterious secrets in life. It takes people as different as can be, and ties
them together with an unbreakable bond. It can unite us across divisions of
age, gender, race, nationality and class. And it has united a young man who grew up among the seaweed farms of Tokyo,
with a young man who grew up among the coffee fields of Costa Rica. I am
honored to call Daisaku Ikeda my friend, and to have had several opportunities
over the years to benefit from his support, inspiration and collaboration. In
the universe of human accomplishment, art, philosophy and wisdom, the nation of
Japan is one of the brightest galaxies in the firmament; Daisaku Ikeda is one
of the brightest corners of that galaxy; and in the remarkable constellation
that is his life work, Soka University, without any doubt, is one of the
brightest stars. I am honored to have been invited to visit, once more, this
extraordinary place, a beacon of peace and progress for the world.
At first glance, one would say that my
friendship with your founder is not based on a shared nationality, or a shared
language, or a shared job. But in a way, it is based on all those things. Our
friendship is based on the shared job of making the world a more peaceful place.
It is based on the shared language of peace. It is based on the shared
nationality that belongs to all those of us who recognize that borders are only
lines sketched by humans on the world map; who place our common identity as
humans before all others; and who call ourselves citizens of the world.
This
is a job, and a language, and a nationality that all of you join today when you
receive your degree. The mission of this institution is one I wish that more
educators would take on as their own mission. It is a goal that echoes a belief
I have expressed for many years at schools and universities all over the world:
the belief that if we are to create a more peaceful world, that process must
begin in our classrooms and lecture halls.
The
novel “Love and Pedagogy,” by Spanish
writer Miguel de Unamuno, tells the story of a father obsessed with educating a
genius. This tragic work makes no attempt to hide its message. It shows us what
happens when education is a simple compendium of facts without values, ideas
without emotions. When we form scholars, but not wise men. When we form
experts, but not human beings.
Dr. Ikeda has said that “a great Human Revolution in just a
single individual will help achieve a change in the destiny of a society and
further, will enable a change in the destiny of all humankind.” Education
must create just this kind of human revolution, or it is not worth the effort.
It must be the greatest agent of change in the destiny of humankind, or it has
failed in its mission. Education is not an end in itself – it is a path. It is
a way to overcome a kind of eternal adolescence that has struggled for
millennia to reach maturity. It is not enough to say, “We educate,” or “We have been
educated.” We must ask, “To what end?”
We must ask what kind of society we are building through our arts and sciences.
When we look at today’s leading universities
and colleges, it seems obvious that we are educating in order to create more
prosperous societies. The twentieth century was, without a doubt, the most prolific
multiplier of wealth in history. Hundreds of millions of people emerged from
poverty in the last few decades. For the first time in memory, more than half
of the world population belongs to the middle class. A planet that is growing
at an exponential rate has managed, with surprising ingenuity, the lack of
resources that this growth implies. Technology has connected every corner of
the world. In material terms, we have never been better off. But we can see
that this material development, while essential to human development, is not
the only thing we need.
That same twentieth century, generator of
fortunes and opportunities, was also the birthplace of unprecedented barbarity.
Never before has humankind killed on such a scale. Never before has hate poisoned
our words to such a degree. Never before has death reigned with such impunity
over all races. Never before have so many tears been shed because of man-made
tragedies. Never before have so many minds, so many ideas, been wasted in the
name of torture and violence.
What was the role of education in all of
this? How did the academy contribute to the decline of the human spirit? Were
illiterates responsible for the worst genocide in history? Was ignorance or
lack of access to the texts and thoughts of wise men to blame for the civil
wars in which millions of brothers killed each other? Did we have too few
teachers? Or could it be that we had too many soldiers?
The answer is that education was not enough.
The world forgot to add an essential course to the curriculum that it teaches
its young. The world forgot to add a course that brings heart to our thoughts,
and soul to our studies. That course is one that I like to think of as “Peace and Pedagogy.”And it is one that
is found on the curriculum of Soka University.
Peace and Pedagogy means education for
peace, and with peace. There is no point in forming learned men and women who
do not understand the value of a life. There is no point in forming professors
for whom war is justified. There is no point in graduating students who do not
care if dozens of people die every day in the most cruel and absurd violation
of human rights: armed conflict. No student, of any discipline, in any country,
should be unaware of the cries of the victims of Iraq and Afghanistan, of Colombia
and Sudan, of Somalia and Myanmar. No student, of any discipline, in any
country, should be unaware of the fact that most casualties in wars today
consist of innocent civilians, and not soldiers who have chosen to fight. No
student, of any discipline, in any country, should be unaware that there are
17,000 nuclear warheads watching over us as we sleep, waiting for any moment of
insanity or carelessness to strike. No student, of any discipline, in any
country, should be unaware that the world spent 1.75 trillion dollars on
weapons and war in 2012 alone, at a time when tiny fractions of that sum could
eliminate preventable diseases, hunger, and illiteracy from the face of the
earth. No student, of any discipline, in any country, should be unaware that
640 million small arms and light weapons flow uncontrolled across borders every
day while we await the ratification of the Arms Trade Treaty that was approved
last year by the United Nations.
One does not need to subscribe to any
particular ideology to understand that this is absurd, and that it is entirely
within our power as humans to change our course. If our universities cannot
teach this, if our elementary and secondary schools fail to transmit this basic
concern for human rights, then education fails as an instrument of peace. It
fails as a way to heal the pain of humanity.
Educating for peace and with peace means
recognizing all of this. It also means building in our classrooms the world we
seek to see in the street. So often, our schools are home to a competitive,
even violent environment. Students are allowed to carry out a war of words that
is the prologue to a war of weapons. They are taught patriotic values that
border on xenophobia. They are brought up in a world divided by borders and
nationalities, where success is measured in triumphant military campaigns.
Nowhere is this more clear than in my own region, Latin America, where students
are better able to narrate the glories of soldiers than the accomplishments of
those who have struggled for world peace. If we make peace an extracurricular
subject, it becomes an extracurricular attitude. It becomes the strange whim of
bohemians and dreamers, not the mission of academics and doctors.
This
is the challenge that each of you will face when you leave this unique
institution, where Peace and Pedagogy really is a part of the curriculum. You
will face being written off as unrealistic, naïve, or out of touch with
reality. I have said that Soka University is a bright star in the human
firmament. It follows that when you leave here, you will, at least sometimes,
go from light into darkness. You will go from the fellowship of the student, to
the loneliness of the peacemaker in a world that still prizes war. If everyone on the globe were represented
by 100 people, only seven of those people would possess a university education
– and of those seven, not even one would possess a degree like yours. Not even
one would possess a degree that represents not only a grasp of facts and
figures, not only mastery of data and disciplines, but also a profound
commitment to nonviolence, to negotiation, to changing the misplaced priorities
and twisted paradigms that have for too long cast a shadow over human history.
But
that is no reason to fear. This is the quest for which your studies have
prepared you. I urge you not to falter. I urge you not to fail. I urge you to
look back, every day of your lives, to the determination you feel at this
moment, and to draw from it the strength you need.
My
friends:
It
is in the spirit of
friendship that I have come here today. The spirit of the friendship between
our countries; the spirit of the friendship I share with your founder; and the
spirit of the friendship that unites all those who seek peace. That is the
friendship that will sustain you through the challenges ahead. Never forget the
words of Mahatma Gandhi: “A small body of
determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter
the course of history. Nonviolence of the strong is any day stronger than that
of the bravest soldier fully armed or a whole host.”
The determined spirits I see before
me have been students in these hallowed halls. Now that you are moving into the
world beyond, you must be more than that. You must be professors. You must
prepare yourselves to bring these lessons of peace and pedagogy to a greater
audience. When you pass through these doors, become students of life, and
teachers of peace – to continue learning how to heal our planet, as you share
the lessons you have learned here with the world.
Thank you very much."
Óscar Arias Sánchez
Former President of Costa Rica
Nobel Peace Laureate 1987
Commencement Address
Soka University, Japan
Thursday, March 20th, 2014
Thursday, March 20th, 2014