I was raised with a sense of right and wrong. Love your neighbor as yourself. Needless to say, I was a bit frightened when I got out into the big world, and they told me that there was no such thing as right and wrong. There was what was convenient, or what was useful, or what was pleasurable, but there certainly wasn't a right or wrong.
Your neighbor wasn't just anyone, but whoever you approved of, and whoever was a means to your own end.
I began to see that it was never about morality, but about politics. It was never about humanity, but about being a member of a certain class, creed, gender, or race. At one point in my life, I actually came across as somewhat bright, and I was a prospect to be recruited for this or that clan. I quickly convinced others that this was not for me, and I was quickly abandoned. At first this saddened me, and then I realized that it was the greatest of blessings.
Look at me, some folks told me, my way is the only way to be correct. There are certain formulae. I am a man, and you are a woman. I am better than you. Now reverse that very statement. Women are better than men. I have heard them both. Generalities, and all the tribalisms like that, are a symptom of malice.
I am of one race, and you are of another. I am richer, and you are poorer. I follow one set of traditions, and you follow something different. Let us battle until the end. Again, these are all symptoms of hatred, of division, of separation.
What we now call generic "Conservatism" and "Liberalism" are hardly any different. Change a few of the phrases, a "right" to this, or a "right" to that, and we still end up with much of the same. Go on a march, and hold a sign. Look how we have changed the world.
Yet all we have done is to piss off other people, the people we should try to come to terms with. In Constantinople, it was the Blues and Greens. Now there are different colors. Only the colors change.
After all, what is life worth without enemies to fight? There must, of course, always be fighting. Love is out of the question. Forgiveness is out of the question. Understanding is out of the question. Let's all mock and ridicule our opponents. Let's find their greatest weaknesses, and make the best of them for our gain. It is of no matter that we suffer from them ourselves.
Justice is what is advantageous to me, and to my crew. Friendship is a conditional relationship. Through it all, I will do my best to insult, degrade, and diminish anyone and everyone who is different than me. Me. Me. Me.
How tempting, but how deeply destructive. I knew that there was a deep darkness in the tribalism of our age. Every age has its own aspect of being a Dark Age.
But no man or woman, no individual at all, needs to live that way. There is something better. Look within yourself. What were you made to be? What should be the purpose of your activism? Be a human being first and foremost, and never dismiss another human being. Please don't tell me that I am hated, or should be destroyed. Engage me with reason, our common gift.
I know that seems quite foolish, but please recognize that you and I were made for the whole. You and I are a part of the whole. The person you hate the most is just as much a human as you, and no more disposable than you are.
You are no better or worse than he is. If you believe that his view is mistaken, convince him that it is so. If he will not allow himself to be convinced, show him tolerance and charity. Even the most despicable of folks you meet are still worthy of the same respect you demand for yourself.
If he pushes you further, and violently denies you your own rights, then, by all means defend yourself with actual force. But never become like the aggressor. Do not drop to the level of what you hate. Do not do evil, whenever you confront evil. If you must fight, then my all means, fight with all you have.
Surrender your worldly goods before you surrender you moral goods. If it comes to that, give him what he wants. Keep your character above all else, even as he surrenders his. Do not be mistaken. What you own outside of you matters nothing to how well you live inside of you.
Written in 8/1992
IMAGE: Paul Gauguin, Where Do We Come from? What Are We? Where Are We Going? (1897)
No comments:
Post a Comment