The world is cruel, but must it be?

Pornpimol Kanchanalak
The Nation (Thailand)
Publication Date: 09-07-2009

They called him names when he was alive; they still do now. Twitter is littered with awful names for the late Michael Jackson as gaudy tributes were paid to him as his elaborate coffin was placed on stage. If he were "lurching from above" as his friend Brooke Shields said, he would have found the whole tribute event at best odd. For a loner and one who came to distrust and become ill at ease with most human beings except when he performed, the showy epilogue might have been almost embarrassingly unbearable.

The world was cruel to him, and still is, even if he is no more.

The world is cruel because we people are cruel. Throughout history, evidence of this character trait of ours is ample and everywhere. We called Alexander III of Macedon "the Great" because he conquered the known world from west to east during his very short life of 32 years. While it is true he was credited with spreading Greek cultural influence over distant areas during the 12 years of his continual military campaign, what about the people who were vanquished and their lives? Have we ever thought of them? The world at his time was divided into rival cities and states, and perhaps out of necessity he - even as a student of the great mind of Aristotle, the champion of intellectual dialogue and discourse - was driven to take up arms and fiercely and unrelentingly fight wars. What about his own life? Wasn't he cruel to himself too? His death was attributed partly to alcoholism. It is understandable that, in living such an existence, when the line between killing and being killed was thinner than a strand of hair, one tried to escape.

In the Peruvian National Museum in Lima, we see mummies of the pre-Inca warrior tribe the Mochica (AD 200-700). Some mummies have sticks pierced through their eyelids. The purpose of the sticks was to make sure that should those bodies - obviously slain or defeated opponents - return to life, they would not be able to open their eyes and see.

The nine wars of the Crusades, that from 1095 to 1272 violently and viciously claimed millions of lives regardless of faith or race, were the result perhaps less of a religious motive than a political and territorial one. They rendered the Sixth Commandment, "Thou shall not kill (for life is given to all by God, and that which God has given, let not man taketh away)" quite hollow. Some modern historians have judged these wars harshly. Sir Steven Runciman described them thus: "High ideals were besmirched by cruelty and greed … the Holy war was nothing more than a long act of intolerance in the name of God."

The magnificent Palazzo Ducale, or the Doges Palace, at St Mark's Basilica, and the Bell and Clock Towers in Venice, are linked by the Bridge of Sighs. The covered bridge was named by prisoners who were taken from the jail in the palace to their execution in the tower. During their final walk, they would be allowed to peek through the small window at the crest of the bridge to have a last glimpse of the heavenly sight of the city. Whether this was an act of mercy or sadistic cruelty is still in dispute.

The Holocaust saw millions of Jews killed under utterly cruel conditions that can never be justified. But it happened, and the world allowed it to happen. The savagery of the Vietnam War claimed more than the lives of American soldiers; it claimed many American souls, left to walk the earth without them long after the war ended. The wars in Afghanistan hardened the hearts and minds of those who engaged in the long-drawn-out conflicts. Today, there seems to be no cure to the fanaticism, hatred, anger, bitterness and despair that has got into the DNA of those who fight wars there now. And it has been said that war is the mere continuation of diplomacy by another means.

Since our origins as a species in East Africa 200,000 years ago, man has taken pride in the term "homo sapiens", which in Latin means "wise men" or "knowing men". We pride ourselves on having highly developed brains capable of abstract reasoning, language, introspection, aesthetic appreciation, creativity, love, kindness and generosity. But like yin and yang, our positive traits can also be highly destructive. We are capable of solving problems and, no less, creating problems. We can build and we can extirpate; and we are so capable of inducing unspeakable misery in other members of our own species as well as those of other lesser species. Many do it gladly. Many do not think twice before doing it, and many do it with a total lack of remorse or guilt. Their conscience is like a dark room where no light can penetrate. And in many instances there is no punishment for their crimes.

It is an irony that, despite being so capable of rational thinking, many of us fail to open our minds and be tolerant and respectful of differences. Instead of using reason to solve problems, we often resort to ad hominem attacks, outright lies and dirty tricks to admonish opponents at any price because of selfish greed, grudges, hatred, anger or simply devilish desires. The late Vince Foster, President Clinton's deputy White House counsel during his first term, once said that in Washington "ruining life is considered sport". Sadly, this sport is played not only in Washington; it is everywhere.

Michael Jackson said that when he saw children, he saw the face of God. It is understandable why. Children are less jaded, less judgmental, less conniving and less vicious. They are more capable of loving indiscriminately. Jackson also said if you enter this world knowing you are loved, and leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.

So, as we are all in this world together, can't we just try to be kinder and gentler and more understanding to each other, so life can be less cruel? Why are we keeping up our destructive proclivity when one day we will all end up being no more?

In explaining the so-called "repulsive force", Einstein said the universe is expanding faster and faster, and one day we may see no more stars. It's going to get dimmer and dimmer and go out in a whimper. The purpose of all this? Maybe one day we'll find out, maybe not, and maybe not so long before it all ends.

So, as grim as our ultimate common fate might be, why can't we at least try a little harder to make the now more decent and bearable for one another? What do we have to lose?