It is important to ask our religions, philosophies, cultures and societies what meaning they give to our loyalties. The fraternity that appeals to the heart and the equality that is based upon the law therefore demand an imperative critical involvement of the mind. We have to evaluate our postulates and beliefs, our idea of truth and Men, and even, to be more specific, our personal philosophies, our nations and our societies. This conscious and critical attitude is a sine qua non condition to avoid becoming trapped into our existing loyalties. When that happens, we deny, or greatly relativize, our primary membership of Humanity. Any moral teaching, on the part of any religion, spirituality or philosophy, that might lead us to ignore the common Humanity of all men, to deny the dignity of some men, or to establish distinctions and an ontological hierarchy between beings, must, as we said, be critically evaluated because it can have serious and dangerous implications.
Many factors explain why such teachings have emerged from religions, spiritual traditions or schools of philosophy. Sometimes, the problem lies in the very fundementals of a tradition, as is the case with the theory of castes: Gandhi’s criticisms, which we were discussing earlier, pertain essentially to the fact that he cannot imagine any teaching that establishes definitive hierarchies between human beings and justifies de facto discriminations. He queries the specific teachings of classical or orthodox Hinduism in the name of a higher conception of Man. In most cases, however, it is dogmatic or reductive interpretations of the founding texts that lead to exclusivist, closed or inquisitorial approaches. The closed minds of certain scholars, specific cultural features or even historical circumstances – being in a position of power or, at the opposite extreme, experiencing oppression or rejection –may bring about interpretations or theories that reduce ‘belonging’ to meaning membership of one to a single religious community, or to the supposed supremacy of one ideology or to blind nationalism. The very idea of our common humanity is then called into question or even denied. We have to think critically, and we always have to begin anew because no religion, spirituality or human or political philosophy is immune to closed interpretations, to abuses of power or to the instrumentalization of the feeling of being a victim (or, for that matter, to biased projections from outside). Scholars, theologians, philosophers and intellectuals must constantly strive to recapture the essence of the human and humanist teachings that lie at the heart of every religion, philosophy or tradition. That is what the Rabbis and Jewish thinkers did when they tried to explain the profound meaning of the concept of a ‘chosen people’. It means, in their view, that the Jewish people have been ‘chosen’ in a spiritual sense, and that they therefore have a great moral responsibility to transmit moral values to humanity. Being chosen is therefore not the arbitrary and exclusive privilege of the few, but a requirement of exemplarity and service for humankind at large. We find the same approach in the Christian tradition and the analyses of theologians who suggest a broader and more open reading of the idea of election and redemption (which are possible only through the mediation of Jesus, or even the Church, according to the famous ‘No salvation outside the Church’). Muslim scholars have done similar exegetical work on the formula ‘you are the best community established among men’ (Quran: 3: 110). They explain that the precondition for this election is the promotion of the good, being a model and bearing witness, and demonstrating ethical consistency towards all men. Such interpretations attempt to get back to basic teachings and the rationality that lies beyond the temptations of dogmatism and exclusivism. This is a requirement of faith, the heart and the mind. In the name of our primary membership of humanity, we must never deny the common and equal dignity of all human beings.
We cannot, however, leave things at that. Everyone is called upon to make a personal effort to move out of the reassuring world of their own community (be it religious, spiritual, philosophical, social or political), with its certainties, rules and shared intellectual and/or emotional values, and to encounter the common humanity of others in the very heart of its difference. Our religious and philosophical traditions may well, in theory, call upon us to recognize the principle of the common humanity of all Men, but that in itself is not enough to allow us to experience it in our daily lives, and still less to experience human fraternity. Doing so is indeed difficult, demanding and sometimes disturbing, and it requires both an intellectual disposition and strength of purpose. It is a question of developing, at the human level, what contemporary psychologists call empathy, and empathy is primarily an intellectual attitude. It all begins with an examination of the way we look at things: we have to stand back and look at ourselves and others in an intellectual sense in order to try to understand the other as he is, his way of thinking, his emotional and affective reactions from where he stand, without prejudging anything. This defines empathy more broadly than contemporary psychological theories; it is not a matter of understanding what the other ‘feels’ through a purely intellectual and ‘cognitive’ empathy (which is quite understandable in the context of psychology’s functions) but of recognizing in the other an alter ego and a mirror, and of acquiring the ability to understand where he is thinking from, how he constructs his universe of reference, his coherence and even his loves and hopes. Trying to put ourselves in the other’s place presupposes that we have already recognized that the other has a place. That is no small matter and, basically, it is the beginning of the process of recognition, of the encounter with the other, and of a possible fraternity. It is interesting to note –and this is no coincidence – that humanist psychologists such as Abraham Maslow and Carl Rogers begin by categorizing our common needs (from hunger to the need for self-respect and self- actualisation), and then determine the stages of our recognition of the other: recognition in the mirror of our respective humanities, verbalization –for ourselves and for the other –of what the other is saying, and finally what Rogers calls ‘warmth’, or giving a positive regard for the other (as he is). Whilst this exercise is codified and imposes some basic rules on the psychologists, within the limits of their function (especially as far as judgement or affective involvement are concerned), the same does not apply to human beings in their day to day lives. Human beings naturally belong specific universes of references (to a spirituality, a religion, a philosophy, a nation, a party or whatever it may be), and it is the demanding exercise of empathy with the humanity of the other’s being, beyond singular affiliations, that prevents them from being trapped into their certainties and judgements.
We could not be further removed from the individualism and/or complacency that results from laziness or ignorance: we are asking the self to make an effort to reach beyond itself, to meet the other and to become decentred in a final attempt to arrive at an intimate understanding of the other that is at once intellectual and respectful. Learning to observe, to listen (in the primary sense of listening actively) and to project ourselves (to the extent that it is possible to do so) into the being of the other, in order to try to understand, feel and experience. The method of the practicing psychologist ends where the human commitment of the free individual begins. It begins with empathy, but does not preclude sympathy or even affection and then, at a deeper level, fraternity. Without claiming to understand everything, and without denying that questions and critical judgements may sometimes arise, the individual establishes communications with the other by listening, by learning the necessary humility of one who has left behind his ego, respecting his attempts to learn and above all by trusting in the one who receives and is received. This is a fraternity of being, a fraternity of fate. We find one of the dimensions of empathy, of self-transcendence through human fraternity in the basic teachings of spiritualities and religions. In Mahâna (Great Vehicle) Buddhism, the aspiration to achieve Enlightenment (bodhicitta) and release from suffering involves the practice of the four sublime states: benevolence (maitri), compassion (karuna), sympathy (mudita) and equanimity (upeksa). As suffering is our common lot at the heart of these cycles, compassion does not refer here to a relationship of power or condescension (towards a dependent potential victim in a state of want), but rather to a sense of sharing, of a shared destiny and of a common aspiration to be released, in love and through detachment, from the chains of the eternal return: indeed compassion begins with oneself. We can recognize here the essence of empathy, and see that the principles of contemporary transpersonal and humanist psychology are already implicit in a spirituality grounded in the universal experience of suffering and the need for liberation through Enlightenment . What matters in the end lies in the will to reach out of oneself and recognise the other’s humanity and common aspirations (before his distinctive choices). This human relationship and this moral disposition towards the other are the path that leads to fraternity. We find the same belief in the monotheisms. As David Sears and Rabbi Jonathan Sacks remind us, the Jewish tradition and the Midrash convey the same idea: this is the meaning of the messianic project, spiritual election and the notion of service. The Christian notion of love (and not compassion, which clearly relates to the order of charity) is the best expression of this experience of human empathy. In the same way, the Quranic verse commands and recommends us to open up to others in their similarity and differences: “God does not forbid you, with regard to those who do not fight you for your faith nor drive you out of your homes, from dealing kindly and justly with them: for God loves those who are just.” (60: 8).We must first establish a relationship of love and affection (al-birr) that permits –as though it were an implicit precondition –a truly and profoundly equitable relationship. More specifically, we must ensure that the ‘equity’ that associates the trusting and reasonable disposition of the heart goes hand in hand with a fair and equitable application of the law.
Completely different topic then Tariq Ramadan’s previous books, but in exactly the same readable style. A style that any common man can read and understand, yet a topic that address the scholar in all of us. Great Read.