Co-Resistance, Not Coexistence: Dismantling Systems of Oppression for Justpeace
Discussions about war and violence often focus on immediate solutions: how to stop the bloodshed, how to negotiate a ceasefire, how to restore order. While these are necessary conversations, they often fail to address the deeper systems that enable and perpetuate violence. Peace studies distinguish between direct, structural, and cultural violence.
Direct violence refers to physical harm—war, killing, torture.
Structural violence refers to social and political systems that marginalize, exploit, and oppress, often leading to material deprivation, inequality, and injustice.
Cultural violence justifies both direct and structural violence through ideologies, religious beliefs, and historical narratives that normalize oppression.
If peace is defined merely as the cessation of war, structural and cultural violence remain intact, ensuring that future conflicts will arise. This is why nonviolent co-resistance does not simply seek to end war but aims to dismantle the very systems that make violence seem inevitable.
Traditional approaches to conflict resolution emphasize coexistence: "Let’s learn to live together despite our differences." While coexistence is preferable to outright war, it often maintains the status quo rather than challenging the injustices that make conflict likely. Co-resistance goes further by actively working to dismantle structures of oppression.
Co-resistance rejects negative peace—the absence of war without justice—and seeks positive peace, a concept introduced by Johan Galtung, which entails the presence of justice and equity. It is the recognition that true peace—justpeace—requires liberation for all.
At its core, nonviolent co-resistance refuses to dehumanize others. This aligns with the theological conviction that all people are made in the image of God and are inherently valuable. Rather than seeking to destroy people, co-resistance seeks to dismantle systems of injustice that ensnare both the oppressed and the oppressors. Co-resistance views these systems—not individuals—as the true source of oppression and violence. Because of this, co-resistance does not label individuals as inherently evil but rather challenges the structures that sustain oppression. This perspective allows co-resistance to include people from all backgrounds, even those who may have once been part of the oppressive system, as long as they are committed to dismantling injustice. It is a framework that welcomes those who choose to stand against systems of violence, regardless of their origin. This does not mean ignoring the reality of power dynamics. There are aggressors and there are victims. However, co-resistance insists that justice cannot be achieved by replicating the dehumanization that fuels violence. Instead, it requires actively confronting systems of exploitation and exclusion while maintaining the ethical commitment to seeing all people as bearers of divine worth.
For those in the West, distant from war yet complicit in global power structures, the responsibility lies in resisting not only physical violence but also epistemic violence—the ways in which dominant narratives erase, distort, or delegitimize the experiences of marginalized communities. A striking example is the response to Ukraine’s resistance against Russian aggression. Many Western Christians, operating from positions of privilege, urge Ukrainians to surrender land for the sake of "peace." This response is grounded in a Western-centric, often ahistorical understanding of conflict, where the absence of war is mistaken for justice. However, when injustice is left unchallenged, violence does not disappear; it simply changes form, waiting for the next eruption.
Moreover, those who are not directly affected by war should practice humility and suspend judgment about how those under oppression resist. As peace scholar Erica Chenoweth argues, outsiders should not dictate whether a movement’s methods are justified—especially when they are not subject to the same oppression. Similarly, Bill Sutherland, a Pan-African pacifist, reminds us, “Our job is not to tell people how to free themselves. Our job is to get our government's boots off their necks.” Instead of questioning why those facing oppression resort to certain methods, the more ethical approach is to ask: What nonviolent methods can I use to support their struggle for justice?
The Black feminist Wilmette Brown echoes this sentiment, stating that as long as oppressed peoples are denied self-determination, allies, and resources for liberation, they are often left with only the power to destroy as a means of reclaiming power. She critiques privileged observers who discourage resistance without providing alternative means of empowerment. When Western Christians advise Ukrainians to lay down their arms while offering no structural support for liberation, they place themselves in an indefensible position of presuming to choose the weapons of the oppressed.
Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, in her TED Talk The Danger of a Single Story, highlights how dominant narratives shape perceptions of reality, often erasing complexity and reinforcing power imbalances. In times of war, the powerful—whether in Washington, D.C., or Moscow—construct narratives that justify domination and occupation.
Co-resistance, therefore, involves actively listening to the voices of those affected by violence and amplifying counter-narratives that challenge dominant myths. This means:
Recognizing and exposing how narratives justify structural violence.
Centering the stories of those directly impacted by conflict.
Refusing to accept explanations of war that obscure historical injustices and power dynamics.
Nonviolent co-resistance is not a passive stance; it is a call to action. It requires naming injustice, standing in solidarity with the marginalized, and disrupting systems of oppression. It means refusing to be neutral when neutrality reinforces oppression. For Christians, co-resistance aligns with the prophetic tradition—calling out injustice, standing with the oppressed, and imagining a world transformed by justice and mercy. Jesus himself resisted oppressive systems not through armed struggle but by disrupting the cultural and structural violence of his time, inviting people into an alternative vision of community rooted in justice.
For those of us far from the frontlines of war, the question is clear: Will we settle for a false peace built on injustice? Or will we take up the more difficult, more hopeful work of co-resistance—standing together, not only to end war but to dismantle the very systems that make violence seem inevitable?
Disclaimer: The ideas and arguments in this piece are my own. AI-assisted drafting was used to enhance coherence and organization, ensuring clarity in the presentation of these concepts.
This blog was originally posted at https://substack.com/home/post/p-159503225
Mike McDougle is a Peace Catalyst Peace Ambassador in Lithuania. Originally from the United States, “Dougle” is interested in the intersection of peace studies, theology, and culture. Learn more about Dougle here.
