On the Spirit of Goodwill, and Why We Need It

Cardinal and Theological Virtues, a 1511 portrait by Raphael (Wikimedia Commons)

Could it be that what the world most needs is a spirit of goodwill? To ask such a question might appear naïve—it would seem to suggest the idea that if we were all a bit nicer, the world would be a better place. That would be trite and simplistic. But the concept of goodwill, if we dig into it deeply, offers rich material for reflection. It may be that a good spirit is the missing ingredient in many intractable situations, for it is as vital for society as oxygen is for our bodies.

‘Goodwill’ was a word much used by Mahatma Gandhi. The two concepts most associated with his campaigns for justice and freedom from British rule were ‘satyagraha’—which translates as something like ‘clinging to the truth’—and ‘ahimsa’—meaning ‘non-violence’ (both Sanskrit words). But he believed that truth and non-violence were not on their own sufficient for what was needed: to be truly effective, they needed to be grounded in such virtues as kindness and love—in short, in ‘goodwill’. For example, while campaigning against British imperialism, he insisted that he always worked ‘with and for goodwill’ for the British. He approached the partition of India in the same way. In 1946, the year before independence, he said that whether India remained one or was divided into two, the process of change should be managed with ‘goodwill and understanding’—he was worried about the potential for communal violence in the country.

It is striking that there are no university degrees on how to be a good person. Perhaps this is because goodness is not easily measured and packaged. But when we see it, we are drawn to it. At funerals, we are often touched more by stories about a person’s good character than their external achievements.

NOT EASY TO ACQUIRE

But while goodwill may be something to aspire after, it can be difficult to practice—the capacity to will what is good for everyone, including our ‘opponents’ or ‘enemies’, is not easy to acquire. This is not surprising in places where crimes have been committed or wars have occurred. But in more ordinary circumstances, it can be hard too. Who has not felt a tinge of jealousy at hearing of someone else’s success, or had a feeling of hurt pride at losing an argument?

Clearly, in our dealings with people, we do not always have perfect intentions—we are all a bit mixed up, after all! But good motives can grow from small and even ambiguous beginnings. Former US Secretary of State Henry Kissinger—a ‘realist’ in his approach to diplomacy—said something like this about Egyptian President Anwar El-Sadat’s famous peace-building mission to Jerusalem in 1977: ‘The original motive for President Sadat’s rapprochement with Israel was almost certainly to undermine the West’s image of Arab bellicosity and to place Israel on the psychological defensive. [He] tried to drive a wedge between his adversary and its friends. … But as time went on, Sadat actually turned into the apostle of peace and the healer of international strife, which at first may well have been a pose. In time, the pursuit of peace and conciliation ceased for Sadat to be tools of the national interest and turned into values in and of themselves.’  

The great religions have much to say about the nature of goodness. According to the Christian tradition, goodwill in its deepest sense does not come naturally to us, and we need ‘grace’—help from above—if we are to live in a good spirit. In this sense, goodwill is a gift which reflects something of God’s own character. The eighteenth-century Anglican thinker, William Law, even said that God, in his very nature, could be defined in terms of goodness: God, he wrote, is an ‘eternal will to all goodness’.

OTHER TYPES OF “WILL”

Nations and governments (as well as individuals) have ‘wills’—organisations, created by people coming together for shared purposes, have aims and desires. And just as there are different wills or motives present in every human heart, so the same can be said of groups. One of these is the will to dominate others, reflected in what German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche called the ‘will to power’. This kind of will is evident whenever empires, countries or political parties try to enforce their interests without consent, through naked power alone. But another form of will, which can be called goodwill, is also visible in history. The story of Franco-German reconciliation after the Second World War, for example—coming after decades of war and border disputes—is an illustration of how goodwill can help foster a more collaborative approach.

In the real world of politics, as in our personal lives, these motives or forms of will (the selfish and the unselfish) are often intertwined, making it hard to distinguish between the two. But only a cynic, who has lost the ability to tell right from wrong, would say there is no difference between them.

Goodwill is not a luxury we can do without. It is essential for the healthy functioning of democracy. Institutions depend for their effectiveness not only on people adhering to rules and procedures, but also on their working across party lines towards what social reformers have often called the ‘common good’. Goodwill is thus a kind of glue which, in drawing people together, helps engender and give life to civil society.

Touching on this, the English archbishop, Stephen Cottrell, recently talked of how churches can play a role in building ‘coalitions of goodwill’.

In today’s global politics, there is much talk of countries doing ‘deals’—President Trump famously wrote a book entitled The Art of the Deal. Deals are important, but we should remember that any agreement, however promising it may be on paper, can unravel if it is not grounded in a spirit of goodwill. What is imperative, then, is for people to learn afresh the art of practising goodwill, and to work towards creating climates of trust that make successful deals more likely.

Goodwill is clearly not the only virtue or quality needed for addressing the problems of our troubled world. But it is an indispensable one. It acts as a bedrock on which other virtues can sit. It unites our energies and points them in the right direction, and it can redirect the current of events away from enmity towards something better.

Philip Boobbyer

Dr Philip Boobbyer is Reader Emeritus in History at the University of Kent (UK), where he taught European, Russian and Cold War history between 1995 and 2023. A scholar of, among other subjects, life and thought in Russia, he has authored books that include Conscience, Dissent and Reform in Soviet Russia (2005), and Geography, Money and War: The Life and World of Francis Rodd (Lord Rennell), 1895-1978 (2021). 

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