The “Age of Shame”

The past weeks have been especially difficult with terrorist attacks in Beirut and Paris, followed by the raging controversy over Islam and its "fanatic elements". Most people are ostensibly affected by the news of the violent acts, but I seem to be mentally wired in a way that I shut out the outside world when things get too turbulent and chaotic. This does not mean that I am insensitive to the tragedy unfolding around me. I, too, share the painful burden, but by taking a different route…by searching for answers through a process of introspective dialogue.

Despite my decision to turn off the TV and stop reading the news, it is difficult to maintain a neutral silence on the issue of terrorism and ISIS. Most social gatherings are fixated on the ongoing tragedy and more importantly, the looming threat. The question that dominates the debates seems to be: Does Islamic scripture legitimise the violent actions of ISIS? The discussion then branches out to related topics: who is responsible for the creation of ISIS; why young people are particularly attracted to the twisted ISIS ideology; and why the majority of mainstream Muslims has not resisted/condemned the rise of fanaticism in unequivocal terms.

While these debates continue to create ripples in the world outside, I engage in a dialogue with myself trying to understand the psyche of people who slaughter innocent men and women in cold-blood. I also cannot help but wonder why successful students, or even young doctors, would want to join what many see as a death cult. The attempt to find a rationale for the actions of the ISIS is futile, because its followers seem immune to the criticisms of the world. No reasons are given for the irrational slaughter of innocent individuals except for the most crude and obvious: the "Other" does not believe in what I believe and therefore does not deserve to live.

Despite the fact that this introspection does not lead to definitive answers, it has jolted my consciousness to a higher plain. I feel an overriding sense of guilt that, as a columnist and a sensitive human being, I have not condemned acts of terror in the strongest terms. When I see activists across the world putting their lives on the line and taking grave risks to protest against injustices on all sides, I feel guilty that I have been lamentably inactive in voicing my protests. Apart from inane conversations with friends and acquaintances where we collectively denounce the terrorists, I have not made any serious efforts to publicly condemn terror acts. Perhaps, like many other Muslims I justify my inaction with the rationale that ISIS has killed more Muslims than members of any other religion or that ISIS is the creation of the flawed US foreign policy. However, my reflections have made me realise that what really matters is the pain and humiliation inflicted upon the victims and their families. For at the core, the issue is not about politics or religion but about humanity. And the final outcome is not only the loss of lives, but also the loss of trust and empathy among human beings!

The truth is that the fanatics have taken advantage of the inaction of the rest of us and by default, have come to represent Islam in the minds of its critics. In this sense, we are all culpable through our silence. Most of us do not want to step out of our comfort zones to articulate our dissent because the path of least resistance seems to be the easiest to take. But we cannot shirk our moral responsibility. Which is why I am overwrought with guilt when I see the image of a wounded three-year-old terror victim lying in a hospital bed in Beirut or the video clip of a pregnant woman hanging from a windowsill trying to escape the bomb attack in the Bataclan theatre in Paris. And when I listen to an adolescent girl speaking of her humiliating experience of ISIS "soldiers" violating her, her shame becomes mine. I am ashamed that we, the human community, have allowed this to happen.

At this point, I am even ashamed to be a part of a world where some men attribute their evil actions to the "Will of God." Thousands of years ago, Homer in his Odyssey, ascribed man's suffering to human choice rather than divine intervention.  In the epic, Zeus voiced his frustration at man's follies in the following prophetic words: "Oh for shame, how the mortals put the blame on us gods, for they say evils come from us, but it is they, rather, who by their own recklessness win sorrow beyond what is given …" It's ironic that we still continue to blame God for our misdeeds!

The writer is a renowned Rabindra Sangeet Exponent and a former employee of the World Bank.

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