T M Krishna writes: Our response often becomes an argumentative tug of war, as we seek victory on social media and during discussions among friends and family groups
T M Krishna writes: The most common trap is attaching ourselves with causality that justifies violence. (Illustration by C R Sasikumar)
Between the time when I thought of writing a piece on violence to when I actually sat before my computer, my immediate and larger world has gotten more violent. Violence has exposed itself in all spheres of human experience, in the form of abuse, threat, intimidation, instigation, manipulation, assault and killing. We have all responded to these occurrences in varied tones and decibels. With this never-ending barrage of violence circling us, our immediate reflex is to rank each violent act. Its seriousness and impact are quickly accessed. But the parameters that determine the ranking are varied. The severity, geographical location, identities of the assaulter and victim, their ideological bent, and the position taken by those we admire or detest curate our “independent” decision. Depending on all these variables, an emotional response is generated, causality determined and a self-convincing explanation internalised. There is very little ambiguity about the “why” and “how” behind the violence.
But this set of actions comes from the need for immediacy. All that we are fed from within our carefully cultivated environment enables us to come to a quick conclusion that “our” environment will find acceptable. The obvious knots in our arguments are brushed aside and we proclaim argumentative victory on social media and during discussions among friends and family groups; each bending over backwards to win. A tug of war in search of victory over an argument about violence!
There are many casualties due to this procedural and repetitive episodic drama that we participate in. First, the victim is lost. In fact, even the sufferer’s identity is manipulated. With each occurrence, everyone who repeatedly participates in this twisted discourse sheds another layer of humanity. Soon, none of us are addressing the violence; we are only ensuring that peace does not return. We even derive vicarious pleasure from being part of the violence that affects another.
But isn’t the overall cause-and-effect design obvious? It is communalism, casteism, patriarchy and all the other “isms” that follow this train of thought. They are aggravated by timeless wrong doings that flow into the present and create fear of the future. As the final act, politicians and their stooges weaponise people for their own electoral benefit. Irrespective of political affiliation or beliefs, everyone will agree with the above statements. They will disagree on who is responsible for the wrongdoings, the truths behind sectarian practices, the identities of the stooges and the political party that furthered the agenda. But there will be concordance on the flow of events.
This informs us that the problem cannot be addressed from within the structural normative. This does not mean we remain mute when violence erupts; we should respond. But the mind must observe from a different place, a dispassionate one. We cannot sacrifice our mind at the altar of any “head” who claims to provide answers. There are many such from within religion and outside it. All they do is redirect our violence towards a target of their choosing or sharpen our daggers if we have mutually agreed on the target. But we cannot go about this search without carefully observing our repetitive behavioural pattern when confronted with violence.
The most common trap is attaching ourselves with a causality that justifies violence. When someone from a background that irks us is the target of violence, after the initial feeling of pity, our mind charges to find a way to turn the tables. There has to be a justifiable reason for this to have happened to this horrible person. We find fault with the victim, blaming him for his ill fate or digging out an old action that portrays him as an offender. Soon, violence becomes retribution and the victim’s past action denies him the right to feel aggrieved. This entire sequence of internal thought processes is demonstrative of violence in play. Yet, we do not see ourselves as violent. We claim that the violence was committed by evil people. We are just deeply interested and emotionally affected onlookers.
Violence is always evaluated hierarchically. The physical placed right on top of the pile. Of course, taking away a person’s life or dismembering someone is an irrecoverable state. But emotional and psychological violence can be deeply affecting and debilitating. There is no way to see it immediately or measure the damage. We cannot put a number on it; hence, we presume it to be a lesser evil. The courts have a legal necessity to categorise violence but that is not the discussion here.
In humanistic terms, how are we to perceive violence that is viewed as relatively benign because it is non-physical? More often than not, the actual physical act occurs after a sustained period of psychological violence. During that gestation period we enthusiastically participate in its enactment. We also train, encourage and brainwash perpetrators. We do not speak to him directly but our nurturing of his psychotic environment is not an accident. We know that our every word and action is a trigger, yet we keep pushing until someone somewhere snaps. Then, we quickly wash our hands off the entire episode. When someone points at it, we accuse him of equating words and swords.
But is all physical violence equal? I will leave you with these disturbing questions.
Do we react to the killing of an army man and an alleged offender in the same manner? Is the murder of an oppressed Dalit comparable to that of an oppressive casteist? Is the assault of a Muslim equal to that of a Hindu?
At this point, none of us can engage thoughtfully with these questions because we are buried in violence.
Krishna is a musician and author of The Spirit of Enquiry: Notes of Dissent