There are evenings when hope is difficult – and yet it shines. The presentation of the Seán MacBride Peace Prize by the International Peace Bureau (IPB) on November 10 in Berlin was such an evening. An evening when people who have experienced the deepest suffering spoke the quiet but unshakeable language of humanity. And an evening when it became clear that peace is not created by those in power, but by those who continue to believe in it despite everything.
An award with history – and a rare moment of credibility
The Seán MacBride Award is named after a man who learned firsthand what violence does to people. MacBride joined the IRA at the age of 15, and as an adult he became one of the moral authorities on disarmament, human rights, and international justice. His decisive statement – “We the peoples, not we the governments” – hung invisibly over the heads of those present that evening.
Between warmongers and peace prizes – finally a worthy winner again
In recent months, it seemed to have become almost a political art form to award peace prizes to people or institutions that have as little to do with peace as a match has to do with fire safety.
- A Nobel Peace Prize to Venezuelan politician Maria Corina Machado, who advocates deadly sanctions against her country and an invasion.
- The Peace Prize of the German Book Trade to Karl Schlögel, whose language is more confrontational than conciliatory and who advocates the escalation of the war in Ukraine.
- The Westphalian Peace Prize to NATO—an alliance that stands for armament and war.
This evening in Berlin was all the more liberating, even almost relieving: finally, a peace prize that deserves its name. One that rewards not geopolitical loyalties, but courage, vulnerability, and the longing for a future without death.
The 2025 award winners: Parents who do the unthinkable – and civil society that builds bridges
This year, the International Peace Bureau is awarding the Seán MacBride Peace Prize to two organizations: the Parent Circle – Families Forum (PCFF) and the Alliance for Middle East Peace (ALLMEP). The Parent Circle is a unique association of more than 700 Israeli and Palestinian families who have lost loved ones in the conflict but have nevertheless decided that their pain must not be turned into new pain for others. The two co-CEOs, Ayelet Harel and Nadine Quomsieh, accepted the award on behalf of the members.
ALLMEP, in turn, is a network of over 180 organizations from Israeli and Palestinian society that carry out local peace work in a variety of ways – through educational projects, youth dialogues, political advocacy work, or support in coping with trauma. The alliance is also campaigning for the creation of an international fund for Israeli-Palestinian peace, inspired by a model that contributed significantly to the success of the Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland. Both organizations share the fundamental belief that peace grows from the bottom up.
The speeches – voices that carry both pain and hope
IPB Executive Director Sean Conner: “We must listen to the people, not the governments.”
IPB Executive Director Sean Conner opened the award ceremony with a poignant reminder of why Seán MacBride – founder of the IPB and co-founder of Amnesty International – was such an unusual recipient of the Peace Prize: because he knew what violence smelled like. Conner emphasized that MacBride left behind a life’s work that teaches us to this day that this prize belongs to “those who know the true human cost of war.”
Based on this attitude, Conner consistently focused on the people, not on political actors: “We must listen to the people, not the governments.” He made it clear that PCFF and ALLMEP are doing exactly the kind of work that governments usually only appreciate when it is already too late. His central image was a reversal of the logic of power: “It is not states that make peace. It is people who make peace possible.”
Conner also warned: “The future remains at risk if civil society is not involved.” But he also found words of encouragement:
“The hope we hear today shows that a future is possible – a future based on security, dignity, and freedom for all.”
He concluded by addressing the award winners directly and focusing on their courage: “You have the courage to be seen. We are here today to see you and listen to you.” At that moment, the phrase “Your courage is seen” sounded like a message from a better future – a future that belongs to those who know the wound.
Ayelet Harel: When pain becomes a bridge
When Ayelet Harel, Israeli co-director of PCFF, stepped up to the microphone, the room suddenly seemed more fragile. She spoke calmly, but with the kind of emotion that cannot be hidden. She spoke of her brother, who died in the First Lebanon War, and of how the loss of a loved one remains with you for life – but can be transformed into a commitment to peace and reconciliation: it was not a rhetorical statement, but a testimony.
She spoke of how her heart aches in the face of October 7 – and at the same time in the face of the “unimaginable destruction” in Gaza. Then came the sentence that would run through the entire evening like a common thread in all the speeches:
“No, it is not a symmetrical reality. But it is a shared humanity.”
And precisely because this reality is not symmetrical, she said, we must take our moral responsibility twice as seriously. Her appeal to Germany was clear and urgent:
“Please don’t choose sides. Use your history and your moral voice to promote equality and peace.”
It was one of those moments when a palpable silence fell – a silence in which everyone present felt what was at stake.
Nadine Quomsieh: “There is no competition of pain”
Nadine Quomsieh, the Palestinian co-director of the Parent Circle, picked up where Ayelet left off – and led the audience deeper into the brutal present.
She described Gaza in words that left no room for embellishment: destroyed neighborhoods, children who learn words like “drone strike, rubble, orphan” before they learn to read. Women who give birth in tents. People who, night after night, do not know if they will live to see another sunrise. But at the same time, she spoke of Israeli families whose lives will never be the same after October 7.
And then came the sentence that summed up the entire evening – a sentence that stood as a moral guideline against global brutalization:
“There is no competition of pain. There is only loss.”
She spoke of the unimaginable: that since October, PCFF has taken in 125 new grieving families – Israelis and Palestinians alike.
Her voice did not break – it vibrated.
“Meeting each other after a loss, talking to each other after a trauma, rejecting hatred – even when we were expected to hate. People who have buried their loved ones. And yet they refuse to use their own grief as a weapon or to justify the grief of another family. This has nothing to do with coexistence. It’s about co-humanity.”
It was one of the clearest statements of the evening, a kind of silent manifesto.
Civil society as a foundation – not a footnote
Miro Marcus from ALLMEP then shifted the perspective: away from individual pain and toward structural hope. He reported that despite war, trauma, and international resignation, over 60% of member organizations have continued their work – many even more than ever before.
He told of 400 Israelis and Palestinians who met in Paris while their families were under rocket fire and who formulated political proposals there that were later actually incorporated into the New York Declaration.
“Peace is not just negotiated. Peace is built. And that requires the people sitting here today.”
The idea of an international peace fund that he presented suddenly no longer seemed distant, but rather like a model that should have existed long ago.
“Love instead of hate” – Dolev’s call for radical humanity
Sharon Dolev, IPB Board Member and METO Executive Director, was deeply moved and praised the extraordinary courage of the award winners. She reminded the audience that wars usually have only two outcomes – “the destruction of one side or an agreement” – and that it is almost inconceivable to stand up so consistently for peace under the current circumstances.
Referring to PCFF and ALLMEP, she said:
“What you are doing is almost inhuman – choosing love over hate after loss.”
She emphasized how difficult peace work is when people live under real threat:
“It is extremely difficult when bombs are falling and fear is screaming.”
Dolev criticized the expectation of perfect peace and called the rejection of realistic solutions often a form of prejudice.
States are blocked in their decision-making ability, while civil society is the real force for change:
“When states and statesmen sit in a room, it almost seems as if they are trapped in suits made of concrete. They lack the power, the ability, and the courage to be creative, to move, to have a real conversation. This task lies with us – civil society.”
In closing, she expressed her gratitude for the award and articulated her wish:
“I hope your work gives us what we all deserve: peace in the Middle East.”
An evening that does not trivialize pain – but makes hope possible
What made this evening special was that no one tried to weigh suffering against each other. No one spoke of “equal sacrifices,” no one relativized. On the contrary: recognizing differences was a prerequisite for recognizing commonalities.
The atmosphere was not festive, but serious. Not gloomy, but clear. Not sentimental, but human. It was the kind of evening that doesn’t immediately change the world – but it does change your own view of it. A future that is not inevitable – neither in one direction nor the other.
In the end, there remained a feeling that has become rare in political circles: the sense that people can change things if they have enough courage to feel differently from the rest of society. The 2025 Seán MacBride Prize went to those who paid too high a price for it: with their families, their children, their siblings.
They would have every reason to remain in hatred. They do the opposite. Perhaps this is the greatest act of peace known to the present day.
And perhaps this evening in Berlin was not just an award ceremony, but silent proof that peace – as Nadine Quomsieh said – is not surrender, but courage. Not weakness, but determination. Not utopia, but a daily decision. A decision that became visible that evening. And hopefully contagious.