Humans are story-telling creatures. Ever since our ancestors sat around communal fires and painted on the walls of caves, storytelling has been the lens through which we view the world, providing a way for us to frame and imagine our past, morality, spirituality, rational theories and political structures. It has also been an important tool of societal change, with the power to help build—or disrupt—peace.
After the fall of the Soviet Union, some argued that we had reached the ‘end of history’: the end of nationalist mythmaking and the competing narratives of capitalism and communism, which had shaped the modern world through conflict. The story of the future, it was believed, would be a shared one, based on liberal democracy, our common humanity and mutual understanding. Yet the 21st-century shocks of climate change, a global financial crisis, a devastating pandemic, the return of great power competition, and the persistent scourge of wars, atrocities and terrorism have called this belief into question. As societies reel from these crises and populism and post-truth politics take root, battles of narrative remain as strong as ever.
Storytelling may be defined as ‘the vivid description of ideas, beliefs, personal experiences, and life-lessons through stories or narratives that evoke powerful emotions and insights’. Used well, storytelling has the power to overcome biases, create empathy and support the building of peaceful societies. In fact, it can be a highly effective tool in advocacy, activism, policymaking, mediation and restorative justice. A roundtable at the 2024 Stockholm Forum on Peace and Development, titled ‘Storytelling: A Tool for Change’, explored the power of storytelling and what makes a story impactful and constructive for peace. This blog builds on those discussions to reflect on the other side of storytelling. How does destructive storytelling disrupt peaceful societies and relations? And what makes storytelling destructive?
Destructive storytelling
For those of us who have dedicated our careers to building bridges and fostering peace, having an answer to these questions is crucial. Destructive storytelling can tear at the fabric of societies; and when weaponized as a tool of disinformation or propaganda, it can undermine peace, spark and sustain conflicts, and lead to atrocities.
There are many examples of this throughout history: the ‘blood libel’ and Nazi propaganda that instigated anti-Semitic pogroms and led to the Holocaust; the ethnic propaganda that was broadcast by Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines and fuelled the Rwandan genocide; the Islamic State group’s Dabiq and Rumiyah magazines, which used myths and stories to recruit followers and inspire lone-wolf attacks. Today, destructive storytelling continues to be used by authoritarian governments and armed groups to incite and legitimize violence—in Myanmar, Sudan, Syria, Yemen and many more of the 110 active armed conflicts in the world.
Not all forms of destructive storytelling are so explicit and easy to recognize. One example is the storytelling of the contemporary far-right movement in Europe and North America. Stories of corruption and electoral fraud (‘the big lie’), existential, identitarian threats (‘the great replacement’ or ‘Eurabia’), nefarious elites and conspiracies (‘the swamp’ or ‘pizzagate’) and messianic deliverance (QAnon’s predicted ‘storm’) have eaten away at communal relations and incited riots, insurrection and heinous violence, including a series of mass shootings since 2019 in Christchurch, New Zealand; El Paso, Texas; Bærum, Norway; Hanau, Germany; and Buffalo, New York; as well as the 6 January 2020 attack on the United States Capitol.
Is there an answer to destructive storytelling?
Countering destructive storytelling may feel like a Sisyphean task. ‘Constructive’ storytelling, which empowers different people to share their experiences and invites the listener to think, rather than tell them whatto believe, has always been the best antidote to destructive storytelling. Many organizations—in peace, development, climate action—have mastered the art of constructive storytelling to get their message across in a principled and balanced way, which directly confronts the worst excesses of destructive storytelling, including its coercive, exclusionary and oversimplifying nature.
In many ways, constructive storytelling is being made more compelling than ever. Initiatives liketheSyrian Archive and Nobody’s Listening provide examples of how technology and innovation can strengthen the practical impact of storytelling. By collecting the testimonies and stories of victims of human rights violations in the Syrian Archive, the organization Mnemonic lays the groundwork for investigations and future justice and accountability processes. And by combining the use of augmented reality, virtual reality and visual arts, Nobody’s Listening has created a visceral exhibit that recounts the stories of Yazidi victims of Islamic State in Iraq, and advocates for the protection, support and right to justice of the Yazidi people. This type of initiative brings a powerful brand of storytelling directly to the halls of decision makers and changes the way advocacy is done.
Furthermore, everyone can be a storyteller. All that is needed, in many cases, is a smartphone with an internet connection. Social media has emerged as a powerful tool to cast stories far and wide. Through social media, for example, the world bore witness to the Arab uprisings and stories that would not otherwise have seen the light of day. Today, images and stories from the wars in Gaza and Ukraine are broadcast through Facebook, Instagram, TikTok and more. In Israel and Palestine, social media journalists such as Plestia Alaqad and Motaz Azaiza, as well as both Palestinian and Jewish peace activists, have filled the void left by traditional media organizations—many of which are not on the ground, given the war’s unprecedented toll on journalists—to document stories of loss and survival on and since the Hamas-led attack on Israel on 7 October last year.
Social media provides ways to circumvent the strictures imposed by authoritarian governments and the biases of those who finance and hold power over storytelling. As such, it can be used to give voice to the victims of ‘forgotten wars’, including the civil war in Sudan, which has killed thousands, displaced millions, and seen widespread rape and ethnic cleansing; a devastating war in Yemen that has already killed 330 000; and a Syrian civil war entering its 14th year with no prospect of political resolution, among many others.
However, social media is a double-edged sword whose dangers are well known. Most social media sites are governed by black-box algorithms that often codify biases, create opinion silos, promote fake stories, and can fan the flames of hate speech and polarization. They can be used to relay destructive stories just as much as constructive ones. In the absence of comprehensive regulation, social media must be approached with care.
Even greater challenges are on the horizon. We are approaching a watershed moment in history when humans are no longer the only storytellers, and generative artificial intelligence models can produce endless stories—both true and fake, constructive and destructive. How will this impact society? And how can we build resilience?
Talking about it is a good first step, as is continuing to tell our stories. At a time when storytelling, like many other things, is bitterly contested, empowering as many people as possible to share their experiences provides a way to reclaim storytelling’s innocence and natural power to educate, bring people together and find common ground.
This blog builds on discussions on the roundtable session ‘Storytelling: A Tool for Change’ organized by the Swedish Dialogue Institute for the Middle East and North Africa at the 2024 Stockholm Forum on Peace and Development. Read more about the session.
Charlotta Sparre moderated the roundtable and co-authored this blog in her former capacity as Director of the Swedish Dialogue Institute for the Middle East and North Africa.
Storytelling in human societies
Humans are story-telling creatures. Ever since our ancestors sat around communal fires and painted on the walls of caves, storytelling has been the lens through which we view the world, providing a way for us to frame and imagine our past, morality, spirituality, rational theories and political structures. It has also been an important tool of societal change, with the power to help build—or disrupt—peace.
After the fall of the Soviet Union, some argued that we had reached the ‘end of history’: the end of nationalist mythmaking and the competing narratives of capitalism and communism, which had shaped the modern world through conflict. The story of the future, it was believed, would be a shared one, based on liberal democracy, our common humanity and mutual understanding. Yet the 21st-century shocks of climate change, a global financial crisis, a devastating pandemic, the return of great power competition, and the persistent scourge of wars, atrocities and terrorism have called this belief into question. As societies reel from these crises and populism and post-truth politics take root, battles of narrative remain as strong as ever.
Storytelling may be defined as ‘the vivid description of ideas, beliefs, personal experiences, and life-lessons through stories or narratives that evoke powerful emotions and insights’. Used well, storytelling has the power to overcome biases, create empathy and support the building of peaceful societies. In fact, it can be a highly effective tool in advocacy, activism, policymaking, mediation and restorative justice. A roundtable at the 2024 Stockholm Forum on Peace and Development, titled ‘Storytelling: A Tool for Change’, explored the power of storytelling and what makes a story impactful and constructive for peace. This blog builds on those discussions to reflect on the other side of storytelling. How does destructive storytelling disrupt peaceful societies and relations? And what makes storytelling destructive?
Destructive storytelling
For those of us who have dedicated our careers to building bridges and fostering peace, having an answer to these questions is crucial. Destructive storytelling can tear at the fabric of societies; and when weaponized as a tool of disinformation or propaganda, it can undermine peace, spark and sustain conflicts, and lead to atrocities.
There are many examples of this throughout history: the ‘blood libel’ and Nazi propaganda that instigated anti-Semitic pogroms and led to the Holocaust; the ethnic propaganda that was broadcast by Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines and fuelled the Rwandan genocide; the Islamic State group’s Dabiq and Rumiyah magazines, which used myths and stories to recruit followers and inspire lone-wolf attacks. Today, destructive storytelling continues to be used by authoritarian governments and armed groups to incite and legitimize violence—in Myanmar, Sudan, Syria, Yemen and many more of the 110 active armed conflicts in the world.
Not all forms of destructive storytelling are so explicit and easy to recognize. One example is the storytelling of the contemporary far-right movement in Europe and North America. Stories of corruption and electoral fraud (‘the big lie’), existential, identitarian threats (‘the great replacement’ or ‘Eurabia’), nefarious elites and conspiracies (‘the swamp’ or ‘pizzagate’) and messianic deliverance (QAnon’s predicted ‘storm’) have eaten away at communal relations and incited riots, insurrection and heinous violence, including a series of mass shootings since 2019 in Christchurch, New Zealand; El Paso, Texas; Bærum, Norway; Hanau, Germany; and Buffalo, New York; as well as the 6 January 2020 attack on the United States Capitol.
Is there an answer to destructive storytelling?
Countering destructive storytelling may feel like a Sisyphean task. ‘Constructive’ storytelling, which empowers different people to share their experiences and invites the listener to think, rather than tell them what to believe, has always been the best antidote to destructive storytelling. Many organizations—in peace, development, climate action—have mastered the art of constructive storytelling to get their message across in a principled and balanced way, which directly confronts the worst excesses of destructive storytelling, including its coercive, exclusionary and oversimplifying nature.
In many ways, constructive storytelling is being made more compelling than ever. Initiatives like the Syrian Archive and Nobody’s Listening provide examples of how technology and innovation can strengthen the practical impact of storytelling. By collecting the testimonies and stories of victims of human rights violations in the Syrian Archive, the organization Mnemonic lays the groundwork for investigations and future justice and accountability processes. And by combining the use of augmented reality, virtual reality and visual arts, Nobody’s Listening has created a visceral exhibit that recounts the stories of Yazidi victims of Islamic State in Iraq, and advocates for the protection, support and right to justice of the Yazidi people. This type of initiative brings a powerful brand of storytelling directly to the halls of decision makers and changes the way advocacy is done.
Furthermore, everyone can be a storyteller. All that is needed, in many cases, is a smartphone with an internet connection. Social media has emerged as a powerful tool to cast stories far and wide. Through social media, for example, the world bore witness to the Arab uprisings and stories that would not otherwise have seen the light of day. Today, images and stories from the wars in Gaza and Ukraine are broadcast through Facebook, Instagram, TikTok and more. In Israel and Palestine, social media journalists such as Plestia Alaqad and Motaz Azaiza, as well as both Palestinian and Jewish peace activists, have filled the void left by traditional media organizations—many of which are not on the ground, given the war’s unprecedented toll on journalists—to document stories of loss and survival on and since the Hamas-led attack on Israel on 7 October last year.
Social media provides ways to circumvent the strictures imposed by authoritarian governments and the biases of those who finance and hold power over storytelling. As such, it can be used to give voice to the victims of ‘forgotten wars’, including the civil war in Sudan, which has killed thousands, displaced millions, and seen widespread rape and ethnic cleansing; a devastating war in Yemen that has already killed 330 000; and a Syrian civil war entering its 14th year with no prospect of political resolution, among many others.
However, social media is a double-edged sword whose dangers are well known. Most social media sites are governed by black-box algorithms that often codify biases, create opinion silos, promote fake stories, and can fan the flames of hate speech and polarization. They can be used to relay destructive stories just as much as constructive ones. In the absence of comprehensive regulation, social media must be approached with care.
Even greater challenges are on the horizon. We are approaching a watershed moment in history when humans are no longer the only storytellers, and generative artificial intelligence models can produce endless stories—both true and fake, constructive and destructive. How will this impact society? And how can we build resilience?
Talking about it is a good first step, as is continuing to tell our stories. At a time when storytelling, like many other things, is bitterly contested, empowering as many people as possible to share their experiences provides a way to reclaim storytelling’s innocence and natural power to educate, bring people together and find common ground.
This blog builds on discussions on the roundtable session ‘Storytelling: A Tool for Change’ organized by the Swedish Dialogue Institute for the Middle East and North Africa at the 2024 Stockholm Forum on Peace and Development. Read more about the session.
Charlotta Sparre moderated the roundtable and co-authored this blog in her former capacity as Director of the Swedish Dialogue Institute for the Middle East and North Africa.
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