Essay
Comment
Film & TV
Weirdness
5 min read

Disney: 100 years of waiting for Prince Charming

Reflecting on the Disney centenary, Lauren Windle finds herself dis-enchanted with Prince Charming and reflecting on what might be a better kind of attraction.

Lauren Windle is an author, journalist, presenter and public speaker.

A plastic wind-up Snow White toy stands to the right of the photo, with hands clasped waiting
Photo by King Lip on Unsplash.

Picture the scene: you’re outside running an errand; maybe you’re taking the bins out or cleaning your car in the street. The sun is blazing and you’re in a great mood. Bolstered by the good weather, you start to sing to yourself. Maybe you’ve got Spotify on or the car radio’s playing. Just as you’re getting your groove on to Gaga, someone comes up behind you, about a foot away and joins in with the song . . . Startled, you stop singing and swing round to see the other half of your unsolicited duet.  

The other person also stops and says: ‘Hello, did I frighten you?’ Clearly concerned, you back away towards your house. The person continues: ‘Wait, wait, please don’t run away.’ As you dash through the front door and slam it behind you, you hear your uninvited singing partner pick up the song where the two of you left off in an attempt to serenade you as you flee. 

They never made a Snow White 2. Maybe that’s because watching the slow and agonizing breakdown of a relationship that was entered into prematurely isn’t very ‘Disney’. 

Menacing, right? No one’s stopping to swap numbers with the creepy crooner. Except this is the exact interaction between Snow White and Prince Charming in the Disney film (1937). Word for word. I sat through it to check. Did she call the police? Was she embarrassed and uncomfortable with his invasion of her personal space? Did she drop a message to the other princesses to tell them to watch out for the crackpot future king? None of the above. The next time we hear her speak about the prince, Snow White is talking to the seven dwarfs and explaining that she’s ‘in love with him’, he’s ‘the only one’ for her and ‘there’s nobody like him anywhere at all’. Those are actual quotes.  

When the prince and Snow White are finally reunited, she is woken from her unconsciousness by his kiss and he leads her away, wordlessly, into the sunset. In the whole film Snow White doesn’t say a word directly to the prince. 

They never made a Snow White 2. Maybe that’s because watching the slow and agonizing breakdown of a relationship that was entered into prematurely isn’t very ‘Disney’. I, for one, would pay to watch as Snow White grows to realize that marrying someone who looms up on young women and breaks into song isn’t all it’s cracked up to be; and as the prince gets fed up with all the woodland creatures leaving their droppings as they traipse through the house to help with all the various daily chores. 

Now this is key so listen up: there is no ‘the one’ and you do not have a ‘soulmate’. 

The relationships we saw as children to model our hopes and dreams on were fundamentally flawed and Disney was at the heart of what I will be calling from here on in ‘The Great Deception’. In our treasured childhood films feelings of love didn’t grow from a deep and mutual understanding of who the other was. It was an encounter that sparked love at first sight, followed by some questionable courtship practices. It’s a sinister day in the magical kingdom when you realise Belle was a hostage with Stockholm syndrome; Ariel changed her species and gave up her voice in order to gain favour with the prince; and Sleeping Beauty was given a non-consensual kiss while unconscious. 

We know all these are fairy stories, but the material we surround ourselves with has a tendency to stick, no matter how impervious we believe ourselves to be. Somewhere between Cinderella’s pre-midnight Waltz and Aladdin and Jasmine’s market stall encounter we fell for the idea that instant attraction is preferable to that which builds and develops more slowly over a longer period of time. The reality is that some of the best, most fulfilling relationships don’t kick off with irrepressible feelings of chemistry. In some cases, that chemistry wanes over time and in others it develops with greater engagement. 

That said, those of us who are conscious that a pretty face or a banging body aren’t all they’re cracked up to be when contributing to a lifetime-length relationship, do forget that attraction is still important. The best depiction of a healthy attraction I’ve heard is Will van der Hart’s on The Dating Course. He compares a relationship to a church candle – one of those fat pillar ones. The attraction is the wick; you need it to get the thing going. But if you’re all wick, you’ll burn out quickly. The wax is the substance, the friendship, the deeper understanding of each other, the experiences you share. But if you’re all wax, you can’t get the flame going. However, if you have both, you’ve got a candle that will burn brightly and for a long time. 

Another glug of Kool-Aid that Snow White had guzzled down was this idea of ‘the one’. Now this is key so listen up: there is no ‘the one’ and you do not have a ‘soulmate’. Neither of those things exist. Mr/Mrs Right is not out there. Get on with your life. 

The entertainment conglomerate has done its best in recent years to repent for the generations of young girls with unrealistic romantic expectations. 

Back in the ancient days of Athens, Plato shared some questionable insight into the origin of humans. Turns out, way back when, people had four legs, four arms and a head with two faces. Zeus, despite being king of the gods, was afraid of what these eight-appendaged, double-faced people could do, so he split them down the middle. Humans, now incomplete, walked the earth pining for their other half, throwing their arms around each other and intertwining their bodies in an attempt to grow together. In summary, the idea of a missing person to complete you is not founded on any scientific or biblical truth. It’s misinformation from Plato and Jerry Maguire. It is not a great premise to build your life and expectations on. It’s a waste of time. 

What someone should have told Walt was that there are a number of people Snow White would meet in her life who would be a suitable marriage partner for her. She would have a different but fulfilling life with each. A person would become ‘the one’ when she chose to commit to them, because she would be making a promise to them to eliminate all others from the equation. Leaving just one. 

The entertainment conglomerate has done its best in recent years to repent for the generations of young girls with unrealistic romantic expectations. They’ve produced a slew of powerful and sassy women, out for adventure with no love interest in sight; see Moana and Raya and the Last Dragon. But for myself and my millennial peers, the stage has already been set. If he doesn’t rock up on a valiant steed, quite frankly, we’re not interested. 

Article
Comment
Virtues
War & peace
9 min read

Who’d be a peacemaker these days?

I’m no longer sure we properly grasp what peace is all about.

Roger is a Baptist minister, author and Senior Research Fellow at Spurgeon’s College in London. 

Graffiti of a tank with a peace laurel coming out of its barrel.
Graffiti, Kaunas, Lithuania.
Aliaksei Lepik on Unsplash.

‘Blessed are the peacemakers!’ 

You can’t really argue with that, can you? It is a truth universally acknowledged, that is deeply embedded in our cultural identity. Like the inherent value of family, fairness and a decent cup of tea, being in favour of peace is of the essence of virtue. After all, who’s going to want to sign up and aspire to an ethic of ‘blessed are the conflict creators’? 

But I have begun to wonder whether it’s as clear as all that, and if our intuitive assumptions stand scrutiny.  

Of course, we all want ‘peace on earth’, to live peaceful lives in peaceful communities and, at least sometimes, to have some ‘peace and quiet’. Peace is a good thing. We desire it, we embrace it, and we honour those who make it. 

But I’m no longer sure we properly grasp what it’s all about. I’ve been on a bit of a journey of late. I’ve come to conclude that it is all a bit murky when you dig beneath the surface. 

For a start I have realised that I’m not tuning into the news as much as I used to. OK, to be completely honest I have always been something of a news junkie, and from the Today programme on Radio 4 to various news platforms online I still consume quite a lot. But not as much as I used to.  

The relentless stream of violent conflict from Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan and elsewhere to our increasingly polarized political debates, the othering of those we don’t agree with in identity politics and the vitriol of wider culture wars: it gets too much. It seems I’m not alone. A recent report from the Reuters Institute maps a ten-year trend towards disengagement with the news. 

I yearn for some breakthroughs on the peacemaking front. In their absence it seems that there is only so much I can take. 

Then, my attention was drawn to a piece on the Axios news platform. The headline read, ‘Trump's deep obsession: Winning a Nobel Peace Prize’. That sent me down a rabbit hole. 

Now I did already have a half-memory that in his first term President Trump had been a little resentful of the fact that Barak Obama had received the prize while he hadn’t. But it seems it’s more of a thing than that. 

Axios reported that he has been ‘obsessed’ with winning the prize for years and that his present administration ‘is aggressively pushing him for a Nobel’. They even suggested that it was the subtext to the Oval Office blowup with Ukrainian President Zelensky. 

In fact, President Trump has been nominated for the prize on numerous occasions since 2016, with lawmakers from the US, Scandinavia and Australia putting his name forward.  

Awarded 105 times since 1901, while Dr Martin Luther King jr, Nelson Mandela and Mother Teresa might seem to epitomise such an award, there have also been controversies.  

The awards given to Mikhail Gorbachev, Yitzhak Rabin, Shimon Peres and Yasser Arafat were particularly controversial. But it was the 1973 award to Henry Kissinger that caused the biggest stir leading two of the five members of the selection committee to resign in protest and howls of derision from the press. 

Finally, home alone one evening, I stumbled across Monty Python’s Life of Brian as I surfed the streaming platforms for something to watch. It’s years since I watched it, but it contains one of my favourite scenes of all time. 

Jesus is pictured delivering his ‘sermon on the mount’ from atop a small hillock. The camera pans out to the back of the crowd where they’re finding it hard to hear what he’s saying. The conversation goes something like this: 

What was that?  

I think it was 'Blessed are the cheesemakers.'  

Ahh, what's so special about the cheesemakers?  

Well, obviously, this is not meant to be taken literally. It refers to any manufacturers of dairy products. 

It was chuckling to myself to this familiar pun that provoked a deeper dive. What was Jesus actually wanting to say? What did the crowd hear him say?  

A quick look back to the Sermon on the Mount confirmed that ‘the blessings’ that start it off are mainly to those in a seeming position of disadvantage: ‘the poor in spirit … those who mourn … the meek … the merciful … the persecuted’. Why does Jesus include peacemakers who ought to be acclaimed by everyone?  They’re the ones doing good stuff with positive benefits. They should be universally acclaimed, why do they need a special blessing? 

From the angelic ‘peace on earth’ that heralded Jesus’ birth, to his final gift to his friends, ‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you,’ peace is at the heart of what Jesus is about. Receiving peace, giving peace, making peace, ‘peace be with you,’ ‘go in peace,’ peace is littered throughout the gospel stories.  

Of course, for Jesus this is shalom or, back in the Aramaic of his mother-tongue shlama. While an everyday greeting the idea infused in the word is far deeper and richer: it is about wholeness and well-being and harmony. Rather than just the absence of noise and conflict, this kind of peace has substance and depth.  

Maybe that’s why it has to be ‘made’.  

It’s interesting, isn’t it, that Jesus doesn’t say ‘blessed are the peace-lovers’ who merely experience and consume the life of peace. Neither does he major on ‘blessed are the peacekeepers’ who police its boundaries. No, it’s ‘blessed are the peacemakers’, those who’ve got their sleeves rolled up and are actively forging an environment of wholeness, well-being and harmony. 

No problem here then. Who’s not in favour of wholeness, well-being and harmony? Well, no-one, until we stumble across what Jesus goes on to say later in this iconic sermon: 

"You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbour and hate your enemy.' But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.”  

According to Jesus, peacemaking is about wholeness, well-being and harmony and its scope extends to, and embraces, even our enemies. And why, because that’s how God does it: 

“He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”  

This is the benchmark that informs the kind of peacemaking that Jesus is talking about. 

Peacemaking always has to start with the existing situation. It is not about restoring how things used to be.

Now you could make an argument that peacemaking is a generational process. That it is about curating how we live together – as individuals, in neighbourhoods or even internationally – where we embody and model these kinds of principles. This is not achieved overnight.  

We make peace and build communities in which we flourish over time. Afterall, as African Ubuntu philosophy articulates ‘I am because we are’. The well-being of each of us is dependent upon the well-being of all of us. This is a way of life, not an off-the-shelf remedy. But what about peacemaking in the middle of conflict? 

This is where the peacemaking process gets to be a murky one, especially when you dig beneath the surface. Altruism on the part of people, communities and nations in conflict is rarely front and centre to what they bring to the table. 

To even contemplate an authentic peacemaking process, both sides in a conflict have to want it. If this isn’t the case the peacemaker will either fail or be in danger of being manipulated as a puppet in the hands of bad actors. 

To genuinely have reached the point of entering a peacemaking process, the parties concerned have to have reached the realisation that the cost of the continuing their conflict exceeds any realistic benefits they can achieve.  

Peacemaking always has to start with the existing situation. It is not about restoring how things used to be. Neither is it about accomplishing the future that has been dreamed of. It is about a cold, hard grappling with how actually things are. 

This is why it’s unpopular, especially with those who have being pursuing the justice of their cause, accomplishing their objectives and seeking victory rather than peace. The peacemaker is a real time and unwanted reminder that they have failed. 

Then, as the peacemaking shifts into gear the one in the middle, the peacemaker, cannot take sides. Yet, inevitably, both sides will see them as partial insofar as their aspirations are traded off in the process of negotiation. The peacemakers are easily dismissed as appeasers or even as traitors to justice. 

Peacemaking is always about compromise. It is about accepting how things are and trading off concerns to reach the best achievable balance. Commenting on the peace negotiations over Ukraine, Wolfgang Münchau recently wrote, 

“The purpose of the peace talks is to fill in the blanks. The two sides may trade off one piece of land against another. Money will buy stuff. But peace deals are never about who is right, and who is wrong. They are not about historic claims.” 

Pragmatic rather than principled, compromise is easily portrayed as a dirty word. Appearing spineless, weak and morally flawed, peacemakers are subject to both being misunderstood and misrepresented by all sides. 

According to the American political scientist R.J. Rummel, who specialised in the study of war and collective violence with a view to their resolution, it is a mistake to think that ‘making’ peace is like a design, construct and build project. While he sees such a view as seductively attractive, it is misplaced to believe that peace can be centrally planned and constructed.  

Rather, peace ‘emerges’ as an equilibrium establishes itself between what the parties involved honestly believe, actually want and really capable of achieving. This mutual self-knowledge cannot be mapped by an external third party and may only be partially comprehended by themselves.  

The art of the peacemaker is to enable an evolving process of reciprocal adjustments. Along the way they must ensure that rebalanced relationships are supported by an ‘interlocking of mutual interests, capabilities and wills’. Peacemakers are far from being centre-stage messiah figures, it is never about them and their ideas or grand plan. Rather, they’re facilitators who must know when to self-effacingly get out of the way. 

He concludes: 

“Peace is a structure of expectations, a social contract. It will be kept only as the parties, for whatever reason, find it in all their intersecting interests, capabilities, and wills to do so.” 

Hard-won peace can remain exceedingly fragile.  

Who’d be a peacemaker? 

Who would willingly open themselves up to being manipulated by bad actors. Who would subject themselves to the rejection of being unwanted, unpopular, misunderstood, misrepresented and portrayed as appeasers and traitors of justice.  

To boot, they have to be self-effacing and understand that their best efforts may only ever result in precarious outcomes, if there is any fruit at all. 

‘Blessed are the peacemakers!’ 

I guess that’s why. 

In the meantime, 338 candidates have been nominated for the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize. Among them is the late Pope Francis, 

"… for his unstoppable contribution to promoting binding and comprehensive peace and fraternization between people, ethnic groups and states." 

The winner will be announced in October. 

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