#coradibrazza

“I have an almost complete disregard of precedent, and a faith in the possibility of something better. It irritates me to be told how things have always been done. I defy the tyranny of precedent. I go for anything new that might improve the past.” - Clara Barton

This photo is the graduating class of the Blockley Hospital nursing program around 1902. The only woman in this photo not in white is Clara Barton, an American woman who first heard of the International Red Cross after traveling to Geneva in order to recover from health problems; upon returning to the United States, she worked tirelessly to found the American Chapter of the Red Cross, which still today ministers to wounded soldiers as well as people affected by disasters, both at home and abroad.

Before that, though, Barton was already working diligently to provide care for wounded soldiers on battlefields during the American Civil War. During the war, she opened a center to care for those soldiers, later moving her work onto the battlefield; with the approval of President Lincoln, she then helped to locate over 22,000 soldiers. Wearing a red cross to identify herself on the battlefield, Clara Barton is one incredible example of a person who threw herself completely into her work, with “faith in the possibility of something better,” namely a humane approach to injured soldiers on battlefields, at first without any notion of other people attempting to do the same thing. In the U.S., soldiers were often left without care on the battlefield, something which she found unconscionable and felt the need to do something about it.

Her story has stuck with me since I first heard it: Barton was a peace worker, but not in a traditional sense. She was not a lawyer, a diplomat, or someone who could donate millions of dollars towards building palaces. Instead, she was a woman striving for “anything new that might improve the past.” And there must be those kinds of people, because peace is not achievable without people doing the less glamorous, on-the-ground sort of work that Barton was doing. Probably one of the most important lessons that I have learned so far during this trip is that not everyone is going to become an international lawyer, but there are so many necessary occupations and spaces for peace work. 

Perhaps not extremely similarly, but in the same vein in my mind, are those who do work such as translation work for the International Criminal Court. Without those translators, the technical workers who help to get recordings done, and tons of other professions which are neither judge nor attorney, there would be no ICC. Sure, it may exist but its functionality would be limited at best. The courts, as well as other functions of international relations and peace through law projects, are held up by those who do the organizing, the translating, the technical support, and also the on-site work with wounded soldiers, victims of atrocities, and investigations.

Another important lesson that I have learned during my time in The Hague, and that can be learned from the story of Clara Barton and the Red Cross is the importance of having symbols for identification and memory. While the Red Cross’s symbol, the red cross, was primarily used for identification on a battlefield and as an indication that soldiers were not to harm them, that symbol has an important history. Symbolism is a very powerful literary tool, helping to create very deep meanings in texts to add to a deeper theme. Sure, after awhile we might just want to say that maybe all that author is trying to convey is that the curtains are blue, but the power of color and physical symbols is also very useful when trying to create memory or meaning.

The Red Cross chose their symbol because “would be universal and easily recognized, to protect medical personnel from attack during conflicts,” according to the International Chapter’s website. It recognized the importance of a neutral symbol and of a color that would be easy to recognize. Cora Di Brazza recognized the need for a neutral symbol to stand for peace work as well, and it was with in mind that she designed the Pro Concordia Labor flag, which came to be the symbol of the international peace movement. Its purple, yellow and white were not in combination the national flag of any country, which helped to reiterate that the peace movement was international, and did not belong to any country. 

The flag’s shield shows a pair of hands, a man’s and a woman’s, clasped, to signify the necessity of both genders working together in order to achieve a peaceful society. The dove, a widely recognized symbol of peace at the center, flies above the phrase “Pro Concordia Labor,” or “for peace I work.” These kinds of symbols are of paramount importance if a memory of these ideas and the individuals who helped to propagate them are to be remembered. 

“The things he sees are not just remembered; they form a part of his soul.” - Maria Montessori

Maria Montessori, a peace activist and educator (not a lawyer or diplomat either, but still a peace worker!), used tactile experiences as a way to help children learn. She, like Clara Barton, defied “the tyranny of precedent” to create a new style of learning which is still used today, and to incorporate peace education into it. I was so fortunate as a child to have a mother who is also a peace worker - she was a Montessori school teacher, and sent me and my brother to Montessori schools, where we learned using physical objects. I learned long division by using beads as a physical representation of the concept, which in turn solidified my understanding of it.

Montessori asserts that what a child sees will “form a part of his soul,” which to me means that what is learned will be ingrained into a child so deeply as to become an integral part of him. This lesson can be extrapolated to include the use of symbols such as flags and badges in remembering movements, ideas, and things toward which to strive. Cora Di Brazza also knew this, turning the shield into badges, which offer the individual a wearable reminder that one must strive to live according to the Seven Rules of Harmony, which are to help one live a life aimed towards peace. It provides a really beautiful way for an individual to “form a part of his soul” with those rules. 

“Where, after all, do universal human rights begin? In small places, close to home – so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any maps of the world.” - Eleanor Roosevelt

These badges can be used as an educational tool in two ways. First, in educating oneself on how to obey these rules, and live a life dedicated to peace, by reflecting on violations of the Rules of Harmony and using the pin in order to be mindful of what we are doing. Second, as a conversational piece to help educate others on the work that has and is being done towards global peace. It’s a small object, but it has a huge amount of significance for helping people, including oneself, about the importance of peace and human rights both globally and in places “so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any maps of the world.” 

Talking about the story behind the pin, and the Pro Concordia Labor flag is also an important way of talking about peace. The last valuable lesson that has stuck with me in the past few weeks is that learning stories and connecting them is essential for education and memory. The individual stories that I have discussed here, the stories of women like Clara Barton, Cora Di Brazza and Maria Montessori are all pieces of a really big and seemingly complicated puzzle. They all connect, though, to form a larger web of peace work and peace history whose memory is necessary for the continuation of that kind of work. 

Throughout the course of this class, we have been talking about the “red thread” which ties together the positive history that the peace movement is a part of, and how all of these stories do come together to form something much larger. The Pro Concordia Labor badges pictured above have a red ribbon behind them, rather than a traditional purple, yellow, or white ribbon to symbolize this thread. We have been working to uncover this thread for ourselves and for others, and it has become increasingly clear how important realizing connections and tying these stories together is. Learning information is useful, but it is far more relevant when put into a context of a whole thread of history which leads into the present. 

“I am only one, But still I am one. I cannot do everything, But still I can do something; And because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something I can do.”

- Edward Everett Hale 

All in all, throughout my time here in The Hague, I have been piecing together all of these stories, learning about the tradition of elegant symbolism of the international peace movement, and realizing the importance of all different people and professions in achieving peace. I think that this short poem, by Edward Everett Hale, sums up exactly what I mean to communicate here; all of the women that I have talked about were each one individual. However, they are all connected through that red thread of history, and they all contributed significantly to peace work internationally, though perhaps in ways different from what may generally be associated with terms like “international peace” and “human rights.”