Struck by how thin they were (Liberate THIS, Part 10)

A continuing series by guest author Dr. Dahlia Wasfi

I did not feel resentment from anyone during my brief stay in Iraq.  When we arrived at my uncle’s (Ahmed’s father’s) house, I was welcomed with kisses and hugs, overwhelming love and affection.

Cost of war 1.2 Iraqi deaths

Image by Random McRandomhead, used under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license

Though I was meeting my cousins for the very first time, they already knew me, far better than I knew them.  My father was a legend in the family and in the neighborhoods of Basra where he grew up and was a teacher and professor.  My cousins tracked his life—and the lives of his children in turn—with fond attentiveness.  They welcomed me as if they had known me their whole lives.

Despite the desaperate situation in Iraq, the novelty of a visit from a long-lost cousin brought everyone joy, myself included. Getting to know each other for the first time, my cousins and I were like little kids, giggling and joking, whether the electricity was working or not.

I was so struck by how thin they all were.  “You have no idea what it was like [during the sanctions],” my cousins told me.  “We are only alive today because your father helped us.”  Even with his support during those years of starvation, my family sold furniture and other belongings to get money for food.

My cousins’ features were familiar to me, because they were similar to mine:  olive skin; thick, curly hair (some of them); and a strong Semitic nose (also described as “large.”)  But their cheeks were hollowed out, especially on Ahmed’s face.  His clothes hung on him limply, like they did on their hangar.  His physique was paper thin and his face gaunt, revealing the faint outline of his skull.  His appearance reflected years of starvation and war.

To me, his emaciated body was a microcosm for the whole of Iraqi society.  The people appeared as if they were newly released from a strangling chokehold.  They were laid out, exhausted, gasping to catch their collective breath.  Ahmed’s weary, sunken, dark brown eyes held the fear, worry, and pain of all of that suffering, all of those years.

 

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Evil by any other name

Review of Simon Baron-Cohen’s The science of evil: On empathy and the origins of cruelty

Science of EvilIn his Acknowledgments, Baron-Cohen begins by saying, “This book isn’t for people with a sensitive disposition” (p. xi). It is a fair warning.

His first chapter is particularly distressing, with descriptions of numerous barbarities. If you need to be persuaded that human beings have provided many examples of man’s inhumanity to man besides those of the Nazi Holocaust, then read it all; otherwise you may prefer to skip some details.

Probably all of us can give examples of human behavior that we view as “evil,” but Baron-Simon suggests that by calling a behavior “evil” we tend to shunt it off into the moral domain rather than recognizing that evil behavior, like other behavior, can be studied scientifically and perhaps thereby become modifiable or preventable.

The key to understanding why people behave cruelly, according to Baron-Cohen, is empathy—and particularly deficits in empathy. To explain how “empathizing mechanisms” work,  Baron-Cohen takes readers on a tour of the “empathy circuit” in the brain.

Although he uses scientific language to identify parts of the brain that provide a neurological basis for empathy deficits, his book is not overly technical; it is accessible to the educated lay reader.

Baron-Cohen describes three types of personality disorder associated with deficits in empathy—psychopathic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and narcissistic personality disorder. The development of each type of personality disorder is associated with some form of abuse, neglect, or rejection in childhood.

Although Baron-Cohen emphasizes the strong link between childhood maltreatment and empathy deficits, he also suggests that empathy can and should be developed, and concludes with the story of two men, a Palestinian and an Israeli, both of whom lost their sons in the Intifada. Together the two of them tour synagogues and mosques promoting the importance of empathy and raising funds for their charity, The Parents Circle – Families Forum for Israelis and Palestinians.

This is a very readable book despite the frequent references to brain structures and circuitry. The message is crucial: empathy is probably essential to human survival.

Kathie Malley-Morrison, Professor of Psychology

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Yoga and peace

To be at peace in the world we must be at peace within ourselves.

Occupy the present

Image by Bryan Helfrich. Used under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

In recognition of Yoga Day U.S.A. on Saturday, January 21, Engaging Peace offers some reflections on yoga as a means for discovering and cultivating inner peace.

The Sanskrit word for peace is “shanti.” Many students of yoga are familiar with the phrase “Om shanti, shanti, shanti” as a blessing for peace.

Another word for shanti is equilibrium, as in mental balance. When we feel at peace, we are in balance, and have a sense of equanimity. It’s easy to forgive others and to let go of our own ego-driven desires when we are in balance.

As athletes, martial artists, and yogis know, to be in balance is to be in a position of strength. Inner peace is not weakness; it is a source of resilient energy.

The practice of yoga promotes contentment, or “santosha.” Would we see so many wars around the world if nations and societies experienced contentment? No, war is fueled by discontent–greed, hunger for power and resources, and fear.

Peace and contentment arise from a willingness to respect others and to live with humility. The greeting and closing used in many yoga classes is “namaste,” which means “I bow to you,” or “I honor the light within you.”

Would war’s acts of violence and inhumanity even be possible if warriors honored the light within their opponents?

Let us all find ways to cultivate peace within ourselves. Yoga is but one path for doing so. Find the path that works for you, and enjoy a life of serenity, balance, and contentment.

Then share your sense of peace with others so that it may grow throughout the world.

Om shanti, shanti, shanti.  Peace, peace, peace.

Pat Daniel, Managing Editor of Engaging Peace and Kripalu Yoga Teacher

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