The Bonds Between Us: Why Hospitality and Its Failure Matter

A Failure of Hospitality?

Last Friday, we witnessed a calculated act of coercion in the Oval Office. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy was not invited for diplomacy, but for humiliation. Publicly berated, threatened, and dismissed, he was shown—on the world stage—that hospitality had been revoked.

Hospitality is not just a custom; it is how we build trust, connection, and belonging. Across cultures and throughout history, offering shelter and generosity has been more than etiquette—it has been a sacred duty. The Greeks called it xenia, a divine obligation to provide for strangers, lest they be gods in disguise. In Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, hospitality is woven into sacred texts and traditions, a moral imperative rather than a social nicety. The Pashtun code of Melmastia demands protection and generosity, even to one’s enemies. In the American South, hospitality became both a tradition and a performance, an expectation that guests would be honored and cared for.

To extend hospitality is to offer dignity; to violate it is to break trust.

Betrayals of Hospitality: Then and Now

History does not forgive those who betray their guests. The violation of hospitality is not just an insult; it is a fundamental breach of human values. A dinner that became an execution. A wedding that ended in slaughter. A promise of safety that was a trap. These betrayals are etched into memory, not just for their brutality, but for the deliberate violation of an unspoken but sacred contract.

What does it mean when a nation abandons hospitality? When the symbolic heart of American welcome—the People’s House—becomes a venue for intimidation? And what does that tell us about who we are becoming?

The Oval Office meeting was not a diplomatic misstep, nor a failure of etiquette. It was a public demonstration of power, a message not just to Ukraine but to the world: You are not welcome here as an equal. Do what we want, or be left to your destruction. The exchange was not a negotiation—it was a spectacle. The script had been written in advance, and Zelenskyy’s role was to bow or be humiliated.

This is why the moment felt so shocking, even beyond its immediate geopolitical consequences. It was not just policy being rewritten; it was values being discarded.

The Meaning of Hospitality

My mother never blinked when we brought home friends—for dinner or to stay for a while. “Of course you are welcome,” she would say, and then prove it by feeding them. But it wasn’t just about the food. It was about creating a space where people felt safe, where they could exhale, where they could see what warmth and stability looked like.

Hospitality is an offering—not just of meals, but of belonging. It says, You matter. You are seen. You are welcome here. In so many cultures, this is a sacred act. To offer hospitality is to extend not just generosity but dignity.

Hospitality as the Foundation of Community

Hospitality is more than ritual or expectation—it is the foundation of community. In places where survival once depended on collective effort, welcoming others was not merely an act of kindness but a necessity. Cooperation builds trust, and trust strengthens the social fabric. To fail in hospitality is not just to be rude—it is to reject the very idea of belonging. When hospitality erodes, community unravels.

Sometimes people wondered how David and I, from such different parts of the world, found common ground. The answer was simple: shared values. And hospitality was at the center of them.

I have been hosted by friends and strangers, by family and by family who were strangers until that day, all over the world. Their generosity astounds me.

Soup, quickly improvised and stretched to feed a crowd after storms. Endless cups of mint tea and bologna sandwiches at all-night sings on reserves and reservations in the U.S. and Canada. Late-night calls for pizza delivery. Most of my condo building, grilling meat and sharing salad, during the Great Blackout of 2003. Khachapuri with freshly made cheese, after a late-night arrival. Feasts in honor of our visit this past summer, by the relatives-of-my-relatives and then unmet-cousins-by-marriage.

Hospitality is about respect, generosity, and trust. It is the glue that holds communities together. And when it is violated—whether in a home or on the world stage—it cannot be undone and will not be forgotten.

What Does Hospitality Mean to You?

Is hospitality a central value to you? Do you find its violation as shocking and shameful as I do? What moments of hospitality—given or received—have stayed with you? And what do they say about the kind of world we want to live in?

If these questions resonate with you, I invite you to join the conversation. Subscribe for free to get more reflections on trust, values, and the traditions that shape us—delivered straight to your inbox.