Few ‘better angels’ to be seen lately

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 29/12/2023 (1009 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

I GREETED Steven Pinker’s 2011 bestseller, The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence has Declined, with a snort — of derision, not whisky. There were other similar publications at the time, on the general theme of how the world has become increasingly peaceful since the mushroom clouds over Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

My challenge to him, when he lectured at the Canadian Museum for Human Rights in 2014, was not what the audience wanted to hear: from the victim’s perspective, I argued, there is no such trajectory toward peace — no evidence of “better angels,” then or now.

His thesis quickly disappeared from public conversation, as that year Vladimir Putin decided he wanted Crimea for summer vacations. Looking at current conflicts in Sudan, Ukraine and many other places, it will not reappear any time soon. While (for Jews, Muslims and Christians) there are few holier places than Israel and Palestine, there are certainly no angels in evidence right now. There was no peace on Christmas Eve in Bethlehem.

In fact, from a victim’s perspective, as 2023 grinds to a bloody end, peace (with apologies to John Lennon), seems to have no chance at all, anywhere. The only clear winners in 21st century war are the makers of rockets and drones — or, more generally, of munitions and the means to deliver them.

The expense is unbelievable. For the industries involved (and their works and shareholders), exploding bombs make the sound of gold coins hitting the table. One Patriot missile is worth around US$4 million, and the missiles Russia fires at Ukraine almost nightly are likely worth double.

In a world where governments claim they can’t afford a just transition away from fossil fuels, to save civilization as we know it; or provide water, food, health care and education for the children who die in their thousands every day, the amount of money spent on violence instead is literally insane.

Nor is the devastation in Gaza some weird aberration, conveniently to be blamed on the Israeli army. Had people been unable to escape the Russian invaders (by fleeing to Poland and then to places like Canada), eastern Ukraine would look worse than Gaza by now, because that is what urban warfare means these days.

Collectively, we are feeding the devils of our darker side, not listening to any better angels. While some people (quite understandably) blame religion, all the religions involved (Judaism, Islam and Christianity) should be condemning the violence in Gaza, and elsewhere. Period.

So, the violence is all on us, on the choices we make, not on God. We have met the enemy, and they are us.

Looking at the situation from a different perspective, however, you could say the problem is not religion, but fanaticism.

Three hundred sixty years ago, a young Scottish lawyer named George Mackenzie published Religio Stoici, or “the religion of a Stoic.” Mackenzie (of Rosehaugh) was knighted for his service to the king, as the Lord Advocate (or Crown prosecutor) of Scotland. His personal library founded the National Library of Scotland; he wrote the first Scottish novel (Aretina, 1660); and his work on criminal law set the standard for more than the next 100 years.

If you looked for a Scottish intellectual in the 17th century, it would be him — and yet for centuries, he was unfairly remembered as “the bluidy Advocate,” condemned for persecuting the Scottish Covenanting Presbyterians on behalf of the English (Anglican) king.

Ironically, Religio Stoici is a book about religious tolerance. In an intolerant and violent age, Mackenzie condemned fanaticism, not religious belief, prefacing his book with “an address to the fanatics of all sects and sorts” and urging them to, well, chill.

Nothing good comes out of what he labelled “fiery zeal” — reacting in anger, instead of maintaining a more balanced and even-tempered attitude to whatever happens, in all of life’s circumstances.

The problem was the fanatics (on all sides) who focused on attacking the sins of others, he argued, instead of avoiding sin themselves — labelling their conflicts as “religious,” when in fact they were all about gaining, wielding and keeping power.

The religion of a stoic, Mackenzie said, finds a pathway between extremes, making personal decisions that instead reflect the wisdom, reason and compassion found at the heart of all religious traditions.

The problem, therefore, then and now, is not our angels (better or worse), but our attitudes — our choices. Fanaticism only makes things worse.

Justice may show a different face to different sides, but peace is always found in the middle.

Peter Denton writes from his home in rural Manitoba.