by Johnny Zokovitch
I remember sitting in the living room of the Assisi Community in Washington, DC one night and listening in on a conversation about nonviolence. Conversations around nonviolence weren’t unfamiliar to me. I had been working for years within a context in which nonviolence was central. But this conversation landed differently.
Most often when I had heard the value of nonviolence addressed within Catholic peace and justice circles, it was treated as an obvious, even unassailable truth. The confidence with which some spoke of nonviolence as a cure for all that ails the world would brook no argument to the contrary. Serious questions from those who weren’t ideologically absolute about nonviolence were often dismissed without consideration. And critiques of nonviolence were sloughed off, attributed to a failure of one’s personal commitment, or an inability to “get it.” Questions about how to apply nonviolence to a host of situations – from imminent genocide to personal attacks – were answered with appeals that often weren’t much more than “you just do it,” echoing a Nike marketing campaign.
I think I had always been a little dissatisfied with such approaches, but as the effectiveness of nonviolence seemed undeniable and even curious examination of it could sometimes invite disdain, I never ventured too far with any sort of challenge.
That’s why my ears perked as I listened to Marie Dennis, currently the co-director of the Catholic Institute for Nonviolence, take seriously and wrestle openly with questions that others had put to her about nonviolence and its efficacy. There was no haughty absolutism here, nor a dismissal that questioned the sincerity or commitment of those asking the questions. Marie didn’t offer simplistic answers or packaged responses when posed the question, for instance, of what does a commitment to nonviolence have to say to vulnerable people caught in the wave of an actively-unfolding genocide. Or when challenged on the response of someone who believes in the power of nonviolence when a defenseless and oppressed population calls for military protection.
Marie’s engagement of such questions didn’t include passing judgment on those who raised them, nor ignoring the difficulties of those facing in real life such heartrending situations. She didn’t shrink from discussions about how nonviolence might appear to those traumatized by war and conflict when spoken from the mouths of people of privilege, those preaching its adherence from a position of safety or even power.
I sat transfixed, nodding as I listened, finding here an appreciation that the critics and the criticisms of nonviolence need to be listened to deeply, honestly, openly and with tenderness and respect, and that the answers given need to come from a place of consideration and allowing for the answer to sometimes be, “I don’t know.” Such encounters aren’t time-bound with answers needing to be decided once-and-for-all right here, right now. Marie modeled that some questions can only be treated with long, ongoing, meaningful reflection – not cheap platitudes nor recourse to defenses of moral certainty and superiority.
I remembered this conversation as I participated in the September 2026 conference in Rome, “Unarmed and Disarming Peace: The Church’s Emerging Paradigm Shift to Gospel Nonviolence,” organized by the Catholic Institute for Nonviolence. I witnessed how Marie’s own deep honoring of the complexities of life and her understanding that promoters and practitioners of nonviolence must address those complexities with the authenticity and weight they deserve, moved from the micro-level – a conversation in our home in Washington, DC – to the macro-level – an international conference in Rome. Like Paul in his letter to the Corinthian community asserting, “For now we see through a glass, darkly … now I know only in part…”, the conference explored and examined nonviolence with humility, embracing care and respect for those who would critique it, and engaging with the hope of deeper understanding.
One good example of this was a panel exploring how Catholic social thought could inform and guide discussions on the ethical debates of legitimate defense, with panelists responding with depth, expertise and compassion for those experiencing extreme vulnerability and in need of protection. The subject wasn’t treated as theoretical, disconnected from the real question of people whose lives were in the balance, and even the relative safety and privilege of those of us being able to conduct such a conversation were factored into the discussion. This was no callous or vague “just do it” appeal for nonviolence.
Such approaches were evident throughout the conference, whether the delving into difficult issues took place within the agenda of the conference itself or in the side conversations happening between conference participants over coffee and at meals. I listened in as colleagues addressed the need to dismantle white-normative interpretations of nonviolence and reconstitute nonviolence through the experiences of marginalized and historically oppressed people. Other circles tackled the critique of how nonviolence cannot be seen as a tool to reinforce the status quo, buttressing a false peace that masks state violence which is economic, environmental, or cultural. Some discussed the complexity of how nonviolence can be presented as asking oppressed groups to bear the burden of suffering and sacrifice while ignoring underlying power dynamics, and how, thus, to avoid such mistakes.
It is this kind of engagement that our world desperately needs to experience by those of us who believe in the power and promise of nonviolence. Seeing how Marie Dennis’ own posture of being “unarmed and disarming” toward the critiques others raise about nonviolence became the posture of an international conference (with representation from 90 organizations in over 55 countries from around the world) is a sign of great hope.
It is, after all, not the choir we need to reach. It is those with questions, those with doubts. And those conversations can only happen if we listen openly, and take their arguments seriously, with respect.
Johnny Zokovitch is the former executive director of Pax Christi USA. He currently serves on the board of the Pax Christi International Fund for Peace and is in pastoral leadership at St. Cronan Catholic Church in St. Louis. Read more from Johnny at https://johnnyzokovitch.substack.com/ and sign up there to receive his articles directly to your email inbox.