Having said this much, how much common ground and conversation is possible will depend on the goal we have in mind. If the goal is to convince others that our view is superior and that they should therefore come over to our way of seeing things, then their deeply felt "monopoly on the truth" will prove problematic.

But if the goal -- even if WE believe that our view is superior but are willing to allow others to judge for themselves -- is simply to communicate what our view is, i.e., to ensure that we are understood according to OUR perceptions rather than those of others, then this monopoly on the truth may not present much of a problem at all, particularly where our point of view neither competes with nor threatens that of the other side.

This may be why, in my experience, serious conversations between Muslims and Buddhists, for example, are often easier than those, say, between Muslims and Christians or Jews and Christians. The very absence of "common ground" -- in this case theism -- provides Muslims and Buddhists with assurance that nothing more than mutual understanding -- if that -- is likely to result.

Muslims, Christians and Jews, on the other hand, precisely because they recognize their common ground of theism, commonly nurse an instinctive sense of mutual competition, which makes it difficult to separate "understanding" from "capitulation." This is further exacerbated when we add such "common ground" as the Middle East crisis.

As I see it, part of the problem is that we often speak of "conversation" when what we really mean is "conquest." In this context, the so-called "common ground" is rarely neutral but is often a set of assumptions that privileges or at least protects our point of view. Once we are able to gain acceptance for these assumptions, we are ready to proceed with the "conversation," since we are assured that, at the very least, our position is "safe," even if we prove unable to convince the other side.

If, however, the other side balks at these assumptions, refusing to be a partner in their own undoing, we protest that there is no "common ground" and may even accuse them of being "extremist." From here we may proceed to try to bludgeon them into accepting our terms, in the name, ironically, of "common ground" and "meaningful conversation."

In sum, common ground can be useful and perhaps sometimes necessary; but it can also be problematic and indeed counterproductive. In such light, we should not be seduced into seeing common ground as the guarantor of meaningful communication. Rather, we should recognize the value of communication itself and from here recognize that sometimes the existence or quest for common ground can promote conversation, and sometimes the existence or quest for common ground can hamper this. And God knows best.