The Sovereignty of Christmas

Treaty of Ghent

After more than two years of war that saw the White House burned in flames and the Great Lakes stained with red, eight weary plenipotentiaries gathered at the dark, narrow streets of Ghent in Belgium on Christmas Eve of 1814. The American delegation comprised future 6th President John Adams, along with Albert Gallatin, dubbed the “Great Peacemaker.”  The British delegation consisted of three officials, including Admiral of the Fleet Lord Gambier. Choosing to “convert seasonal sentiment into a durable peace,” the two sides signed the Treaty of Ghent to initiate two centuries of peace between two nations that have not gone to war since.

World War II

Amid a wasteland of waterlogged mud in 1941, British and German soldiers shook hands and exchanged cigarettes, plum pudding, and alcohol. Heck, even their uniform buttons as souvenirs! The exchanged items were scarce and cherished symbols of home—giving them away was an act of radical generosity. As they allowed each other to retrieve and bury their fallen comrades, both sides chorused to Christmas carols and viewed family photographs. This quiet recognition served as a poignant reminder: the stranger in the opposing trench was also a person missing the same, simple comforts of home.

Sovereignty of the Supper

While taking refuge in a small hunting cabin as the Allied powers bombed their hometown in 1944, Elisabeth Vincken and her 12-year-old son heard a knock on the door. She opened it to three Americans, lost, wounded, and freezing. Harboring an enemy was an act punishable by death in Nazi Germany, but Vincken let them in. Shortly after, a second knock came, this time bringing four German soldiers. Vincken took them in too, but not without dictating to all soldiers present that all weapons be left at the door.

The cabin, now a microcosm of the entire war, saw tension dissolved into the steam of roast chicken and potatoes as she generously fed them with what little food she had. On this night, the thrones of state—that demanded they kill each other—collapsed and bowed to the throne of a mother’s hospitality.

Diplomacy

After a 700-mile journey, a 20-meter Norwegian spruce reverently selected from the snow-dusted Nordmarka forest travelled to now stand in the cacophony of London’s Trafalgar Square. A standing symbol of friendship, solidarity, and historical alliance, this annual tradition is a faithful token of gratitude from Norway to Great Britain for the latter’s support during World War II. Conducted with ceaseless devotion since 1947, the tree was lit not just to celebrate a holiday but to illuminate a debt of honor that time has not dimmed.

The North Pole

“That (continental) shelf is mine,” declared Russia, planting a titanium flag on the seabed. “No, that’s ours!” retorted Denmark and Greenland, filing a massive claim over 900,000 kilometers. “It’s neither of yours; it’s ours,” interjected Canada. “And we hereby declare Santa our citizen; here’s his passport we’ve issued, see!”

As ancient ice thins and muscles flex in a space where stories of snow magic are told and retold, the deep, sapphire veins (shipping lanes) of the Arctic are no longer mapped by explorers but tacticians. Viewed as spoils of war, what’s beneath the seabed has now turned into a crown of prize for the highest bidder or strongest contender. In place of sleighbells, icebreakers hum to the sonar pings of submarines to alert us that it is more than ice that we are losing. Fortunately, amidst the grinding ice and howling wind, the tradition of “Secret Santa” exchange between rival research stations has endured. This is not a mere holiday game to them, but a fragile liturgy of shared survival and humanity.

Christmas Meal

At the Christmas dinner, a family gathers even as the world of thrones has reshaped every bite to make the menu a map of geopolitical friction. The centerpiece of a turkey sits as its golden skin masks a bitter economic reality: for many families, this bird now represents a month’s worth of heating or a week of missed wages. The grain it once fed upon was very well harvested under drones as it travelled through shipping lanes choked by conflict to finally meet the carving knife of its fate. Although the price of their joy has never been higher, the family sits in a defiant act of normalcy—electing tradition to eat in a circle of light.

Soft Power

Along with baseball and rock music, Christmas arrived in Japan as part of a post-1945 package of Western cultures. The same holiday hit the shores of South Korea but has since taken the form of a fashionable and romantic occasion dubbed the “Second Valentine’s Day.” Despite cakes and chocolates taking the place of turkey, both places serve as vivid examples of Western soft power being localized and transformed. Violence and coercion, you see, are not the only ways to influence others. Attraction works too, and in more convincing ways.

Christmas Magic

From the past, where Colombia lit up jungle trees to encourage the return of their rebels during Christmas, to the present, where the Philippines continually honors Christmas ceasefires for its 56-year-old conflict, Christmas has served as a unique catalyst for peace, where diplomatic breakthroughs or temporary truces can occur even amidst the most severe conflict. Peace, after all, is not a mere absence of war, but a deliberate, daily choice to see the enemy as a neighbor.

The most poignant victories are not always won on battlefields or in rooms of thrones. Sometimes they are won in the small, sacred spaces where we choose to share our fire, our food, and our future—because the light brought by the Prince of Peace in a single candle will always be more enduring than the shadow cast by any crowns on earth.

Merry Christmas.

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