An article published in the Economist on
30 June had this opening line “Ask some Germans how people should react to
terrorism and most would probably agree with the historian Herfried Münkler
that the best attitude is heroische Gelassenheit: heroic calmness. Let other
countries declare wars on terrorism and near-permanent states of emergency,
they say; Germany’s dark history has taught it not to over-react”.
Yes, Germany had a dark history, and a
share of misery, poverty, and war, coupled with an arduous and constant effort
to redeem itself for mistakes created by long gone political brutes, cladded in ideological uniforms of scientific
rationalism. Nonetheless, Germans realised that history must serve a purpose,
and that purpose is to learn how to shape, control, and direct actions in an effective,
efficient, and intelligent manner in order to achieve the desired objectives.
When the entire world
expected a fuming Angela Merkel to step up on a pedestal and read, in
passionate and heated German, that the nation will not succumb to terrorists
who will be easily crushed under German boots, the silence of the German leader
stunned the zealous audience. No, we will not crush anyone under our boots, nor
impose collective punishment. We will not condole those who we love and owed to
protect and who lost those they loved and vowed to protect with a promise to hunt
the perpetrators and their accomplices like dogs.
Meanwhile, speeches
made by Middle Easter leaders failed to resemble in any shape or form the
level-mindedness of their German counterpart. Promises by Turkish leaders to
impose “the strictest procedures ever established to counter terrorists”, the
Afghani promise to “bury the terrorists with our vengeance”, the Chechen leader’s
wishful plan of “selecting the best 2000 Chechen fighters to abolish and diminish
all ISIS affiliates in street fight”, and the Iraqi calls for “galvanizing the
powers of the fighters and heroic mujahideen” all sound similar to the much
familiar promises of medieval rhetoric to stir passions. Many are the times that
we read articles in Arabic newspapers which start off with calls to crush the enemy,
smother them in their sleep, turn their weapons against them, wipe them off the
face of the earth, mobilise the thirsty-for-justice young freedom fighters…the
list of ardent cliché phrases goes on.
It is true that
the Middle East’s share of terrorism is much higher than that of Europe, and
that desperate measures are necessary in certain conditions. However, for a
nation that has been mired with war and unrest since the early 1920s, would it
be the wisest decision to foment feelings and desires of vengeance through
rhetorical and inflamed speeches? Is a hubristic assumption that eradicating
wrong-doing can and must come at the expense of humanity and reason? Is the
Arab/Muslim nation so fragile that it cannot deal with misery other than a through
a mindless urge and call for vengeance? Do leaders assume that by inflaming the
passionate streets, the problems of radicalism, terrorism and fanaticism are
solved? Are we that fragile to the attractive and luring choice of blind outrageous
vendetta?
The German saying
of ‘We are not made out of sugar’ must resonate better with us. Perhaps for a religious
community, we can change the proverb into salt to assimilate Lot’s story
and his turned-into-a pillar-of -salt wife, who probably dissolved when it was pouring
acid rain. No, we will not dissolve into a container of hatred and vengeance because
of drop of rain or a hurricane. We are neither made out of sugar nor salt.
