Man, this is the question I've been fretting over more or less solidly for the last several years.

I don't think there's a way to "convince" a person to open a dialogue, mainly since that represents a change that's almost completely internal. I think we can all think of a particular statement or saying or proverb that we've heard a million times, but that we never really internalized until some random moment when we hear it say "aha! I *get* it now!". What was said to us didn't change; it wasn't ultimately the source of our newfound openness to its idea. What changed was us: for whatever reason, the mishmash of people we've talked to, things we've read, and events in our lives finally gelled in such a way that we were able to understand. It's not something that can be forced or explicitly activated by an external force.

I think that once that opennness is achieved, things can start happening with a more logical relationship to external stimuli, provided certain psychological boundaries are respected. A devout Christian may start cultivating an interest in, say, Islam and start to empathize a bit with devout Muslims, but that process will cease if the Muslim sources such a person interacts with start attacking Christianity or Christians -- a person has to be very secure in their own beliefs and must also have a well-developed understanding of the "other's" context to be able to handle direct attacks like that without necessarily developing a dim view of the "other" in question.

A common theme I've noticed both in conservative and liberal rhetoric is that each side views the other as not sharing the same basic qualities as themselves: a liberal, for instance, will say that conservatives consist of greedy, amoral businessmen who care more for money than for social justice, and holier-than-thou Christians who hate anything different than themselves and who want to return America to the fifties, where anybody who was different was ostracized. These statements implicitly assume that conservatives are motivated by negative, evil, or at least backwards desires and not by a desire to improve the world. Conservatives make the same mistake by assuming that liberals hate Christianity and all of its values, and that they want to make everyone like themselves. This is the sort of easy demonization of the other side that fuel the likes of Michael Moore and that horrible Ann Coulter woman.

What both sides' rhetoric is missing is the idea that the other side wants basically the same things as they do: justice, equality, safety, morality, and prosperity. The difference is less in the "what" but more in the "how" and perhaps in the "why". While this line of thinking still allows for massive differences of opinion, it does not fall into the dead-end trap of assuming that one's political opponents are an evil that must be vanquished at all costs: they can be met with in the middle, and solutions that are mutually acceptable can be worked out.

The crusading mentality is popular, I think, because it requires less engagement in the actual ideas involved, and focuses more on action and activism. It's feels good to be doing something about the evils of the world, and many people are simply not interested in the often extremely complex realm of national and international policy, or theology, or cultural history that permeate today's issues. I call it "bumper sticker politics" because often people opinion are no more complex than the slogans one sees on a bumper sticker. It's a tough situation, since the crusader is 100% certain in the righteousness of their cause(s) and gets the emotional bump from doing something about it. The alternative we're proposing involves being unsure of the best thing to do, and it also involves an intellectual engagement in the issues that many people find terribly dry and boring. It's trading a comfortable, predictable black-and-white worldview for a lot of shades of grey and a fair amount of soul-searching. Definitely a tough sell: complex viewpoints just don't yield the quality sound bites that Moore- and Coulter-isms do.

All I can think to do is try and humanize the other side to whoever I'm talking about controversial issues with: the Righteous Right may hold detestable opinions, but they're trying to do the right thing as they see it, just as PETA folks are doing what they feel is morally necessary, even though I'd argue that their methods and views lack internal consistency and any sort of scientific basis. All anyone can really hope to do is throw out less polarizing takes on things and hope that it may be the catalyst for that "a-ha!" moment I described at the beginning of this piece.
 

I honestly believe the only way to be in a real dialogue is when you know someone, through work, through the gym, and eventually the topics come up. But, by the time they come up and you're startled, you realize that yoU LIKE this person, hell, you even RESPECT this person, the normal rhetoric doens't work. So it forces you to review your own biases. This happened with an old boss of mine who I deeply respected. Months into our working relationship I learned he's a very, very strict, very evangelical Christian... Super anti-gay, etc. But wow, he's my amazing boss! My relationship with him changed *ME*, he did not change me by anything he did or said. He had no idea I'm an "athiest", etc. I became much more empathetic and curious about where he came from and am all the better for it. It opened my eyes in a new way and I have great respect for evangelicals based soley on knowing what a profoundly good man he is.

Elizabeth Thomas