Baba’s glass was half full
I once asked my father why is the far right so often the loudest and proudest collection of bigots, racists and fascists. I inquired why are religious fundamentalists so violent and hateful. He told me that these were the death throes of a dying breed. The world was changing, becoming more open-minded, enlightened and progressive, he told me. These people were merely lashing out as their way of life was coming to an end. In the end, multiculturalism and liberal values would prevail and a tolerant and inclusive world flourish.
My father is a learned man. He is an economist and a political analyst. Baba, as I call him was not wrong, he was hopeful. The world was moving in a direction that was positive. His optimism was justified. This was the reality he lived through. All through his years up till that point the world had increasingly gotten better. This is not to say that terrorism or religious extremism didn’t exist before 9/11. Nevertheless, the world was moving along an encouraging path. People and nations overall were more accepting and inclusive with each passing generation. There were violent and ferocious people who despised multiculturalism and religious liberalism. However, these people were a minority albeit a vocal one.
Growing up, I revelled in the knowledge that the world was my oyster. I genuinely believed in one global humanity. A humanity where the ties that bind us were far greater than characteristics that divide us. My ethnicity or religion was never at question. I was a citizen of the world with the same rights and privileges as anyone else. I sincerely thought that the only differentiating factor for any human being was the strength of their character and not their pigmentation or nationality. I went about my life with this knowledge that tomorrow will be better than yesterday. The people will be better, the world will be better, I will be better. Baba was right.
I graduated from college and was ready to slurp up that oyster I was promised with great gusto. Then some idiot flew a plane into a building. The building crumbled and so did the world. The idiot died and gave birth to many more. The frightened people became violent which lead to the other side becoming frighteningly violent. Baba told me this too shall pass. He reassured me that the vast majority of the people were still open-minded, enlightened and progressive. However, the landscape of the world was changing and I was witnessing it helplessly. The scary people got louder. The louder people got scarier. Their numbers swelled and that was scariest.
Baba was not so convinced anymore either. It seemed the world had taken a U-turn. The world was on the highway to enlightenment. Some day we were going to reach Nirvana, man. Sure, there were pot holes and bumps along the way maybe even a crater or two but we were headed in the right direction. What the hell happened?! The war started as “Good vs Evil” it turned into “Us vs Them” until it finally became “Me vs You”.
When it all began, the lines were clear cut. We understood the reasons. Revenge for innocent lives lost. It doesn’t mean that most of us support violence but we could wrap our heads around it. Evil was being defeated. Some people shouted foul. The voices were distant and from the fringe. It was easy to ignore them. Then another war was started and this time the motives were not as clear. More people shouted foul. The voices were closer but not from enough people for us to take notice. As the wars became longer the motives got murkier. Even more people shouted foul. It was louder and harder to ignore. The voices had seeped into the subconscious and entered the psyche.
An entire generation now grew up with this mindset. It was no longer a war against “evil”. It was a war against “us”, they thought. Muslims thought it was a war against their faith. The west believed it was a war against their way of life. Both ideologies felt they were under threat. Thus, both sides became more defensive about their beliefs. What was ferociously shouted out by the minorities on either side was now being echoed, although less vehemently by a larger minority. As the attacks continued by either side more people were recruited into this segment. Propaganda became rhetoric and rhetoric became a mindset.
Baba had told me there were more people like me than there were like them. Yet, I no longer felt that way. Every day I felt more isolated, I was a minority. Not a minority of religion or ethnicity, but a minority of thought. My father reassured me that despite this changing dynamic, most people do not manifest their mentality in violent actions. I took solace in that fact. Violence however is not always physical. I, and others like me felt marginalised. Was I now the minority?
To varying degrees’ people were becoming more hard lined in their beliefs. More than that they were judgemental of others holding different outlooks. This was not localised to any one region but a global shift in attitudes. All around the world there was an ideological clash between progressives and right-wingers. Eventually the book was judged by its cover. Your conviction was presumed by your appearance. I used to be just a person, now I was a religion and an ethnicity. The more I was defined the more I was different. Everyone was very aware of what made them different from one group and what they thought made them the same as another group. Now it was me vs you. So, the thinking became that: I and everyone like myself is “me” whereas everyone else in the world is “you”.
It is easy to feel sympathy for people you think are like yourself. On the flip side, it becomes even easier to blame those you feel are different. In Baba’s time these distinctions were made based on your philosophies. Admittedly earlier on the same differentiations were made based on race, nationality and religion. Then the world united and rid itself of a hatemonger. Eventually people marched in Selma and even old enemies tore down walls. Wars were thawed and apartheid regimes fell. Progress was achieved. They were hard-fought battles, but they were successful. The war was not won but the victory was visualised. I am not naive, there were aberrations but there was light at the end of the tunnel. So, I could understand where my Baba’s advice stemmed from.
Like my father I am a fan of multiculturalism. Although I feel part of a shrinking fan base. Many believe that birds of a feather should flock together. They think if it weren’t for multiculturalism “others” would not come to drain their resources. Their jobs wouldn’t be exported. Furthermore, there would be no clash of ideologies and hence no violence or crime. Global aspirations should give way to internal reflection, they say. Betterment of your own people above all else, they shout. What is disturbing is that you can almost see their point. You may not agree with it but you can understand it.
Baba told me that people of the world could, and should live and work together. Nations can share in the expertise and talent of individuals beyond their borders. Countries should share their resources for the common good. Exposure to different cultures and religion can only enrich lives and increase respect and understanding, he said. I accept this to be true. Baba is right. Why can’t everyone see it this way? There are those who believe when you invest in talent and expertise from overseas, you are overlooking your own people. They think when you share resources, you are denying them their share. It is their belief different cultures and religions cannot coexist they can only clash. After all it is easier to blame someone else for all that is wrong. I can see where their hate for everyone different from themselves comes from. Even though I disagree, I can no longer ignore these voices.
In conclusion, my father was not wrong. He did not overestimate the inherent decency in people. I believe most people are good and decent. It is just that we need to accept that not everyone subscribes to the same world view as us. We need to accept that those with an alternate view are a larger segment of the world population than we would care to admit. Baba has told me to have faith in humanity and remember that human beings have overcome these prejudices before. That hate-mongering has been defeated before. That good has triumphed before. And so, even though it seems like we may have degenerated now, I will hold humanity to aspire to that standard once again.
I may not be able to be as optimistic in my advice to my son. I am after all a product of my environment. An environment that is vastly different from when my father was my age. I feel sorry that I cannot bequeath to my son a better world than the one I was bestowed with. Therefore, since hope is in short supply, I will keep the faith. The faith in humanity to once again defeat prejudice, to trounce hate, to overcome xenophobia, to crush bigotry. We might have regressed today and undone a lot of the progress we made over the decades but maybe someday we will evolve so far beyond all this hatred that we will never be able to find our way back to it. Till then Baba and I will have many more debates.
