Marion Morford

A Good Look at Evil

Philosophy

“Reading a book without filtering it through the biases and fears of one’s own time is difficult enough, and you’d think that a book with a focus on the concept of “evil” would be able to analyze its topic in a mutually shared understanding if not objective definition that would hold up across time and cultures. And you’d be wrong about all of that. Evil, perhaps like stupidity, is not easily defined. Wouldn’t you just assume that something as pervasive, menacing and potentially (if not actually) personally and socially destructive as “evil” would be immediately recognized, like the emergence of some lethal bacterial invader, and dealt with as fully and comprehensively as possible at its first sighting? But no, evil – on levels we can barely recognize – on a scale sometimes not too small, but too large – loom over any and every society now and then, and like any pernicious disease, no one is immune and every society, no matter its safeguards, is vulnerable. And like any infectious disease, evil begins slowly, takes a foothold and expands, slowly and barely noticeable at first and then, if not recognized, begins to flourish in dark and neglected plae and finally emerges strong and resistant. Like the great plagues, forms of evil can define an era or a culture. And evil, like disease, (or even stupidity) is no abstraction. Evil distorts, deceives, captivates, and ultimately consumes its victims, which again, can be any of us. This book is not for everyone. Some will find it hard to read, others will discover that they, despite their denials, justifications and protestations, actually love and cultivate evil. Eventually they, and possibly we, will pay the cost, but until they go off the proverbial cliff or enter the fire and fury of their own making, they will preserve their “opinion” or “values”. Hell, I am sure, is packed with people defined by their certainty and “faith” in some unyielding cause or convincing personality. We have seen this many times before, we will see it again – and, I am convinced, we are seeing it right now. It’s hard for me to believe that this book was written over thirty years ago, its warnings – and examples – could have been taken from today’s front pages and today’s cast of characters eager to convince, cajole and frighten us into believing the worst of each other- and ourselves. In America in particular, a land which has (almost) always prided itself on being a land of justice, equality and opportunity, evil – obvious, tangible and blatant evil, has taken root and flourished to a degree most of us never would have imagined possible. Many people I know have rushed to embrace it. They are intoxicated and inspired by it. They, like the devotees of Ceasars, Kaisers and Fuhrers before them are convinced that they know “the One” who will save them. Their rush to their own ashes is truly frightening. And history shows us that the destruction they wreak will not only be their own. Unlike Hannah Arendt, Rosenthal does not believe that evil is banal – she is convinced that it is intentional – an intentional thwarting – if not destruction – of the narrative, the story we tell ourselves about who we are as individuals, as a culture as a nation. The stories I grew up with – of my country (USA) and faith (Christianity) could not feel more alien than the distortions I currently see and hear constantly. Where is the America that told itself – and the world – that it was the welcoming home of fugitives and refugees from persecution and oppression? Where is the faith that held up compassion and generosity as ideals – not as signs of weakness. America was the land of opportunity and a place where laws were applied equally. Now it has become a haven for crude, destructive opportunists. We have been lied to, and our own story has been taken from us. That, in summary, in Rosenthal’s definition of evil – the distortion of one’s story beyond recognition – and the seduction (sometimes literal) that accompanies it. And, according to Rosenthal, the techniques and strategies are as universal as they are effective; her first model is that of the “seducer”. The “seducer” takes what he wants, has no respect, or even recognition of laws, rules or social guidelines. He has no friends. He has no need for friends. Each person on his social landscape is an ally, an obstacle or a potential victim. He has no equal, no peers. Just as he is oblivious to standard societal guidelines, he is also, by wealth, charm or deception, immune from the consequences of violating them. He has no beliefs or values – just the continual search for the next conquest. And like a true “seducer”, no victim holds his attention for long. He seeks continual “re-entanglements”. It is difficult to imagine a more purely destructive force in any relationship, family, community or political body. And yet he acquires many who seek to profit from his powers — if only they too can escape being scorched and discarded. We see few of these acquire public power and prominence in human history, perhaps one or two a generation. And that is more than enough. As you might guess from any study of evil, the author takes some close looks at what she calls “the unalloyed evil” of the Nazi era. Even a couple of generations later, the immensity of that “movement” is breathtaking and inconceivable to most us. The idea of rounding up, incarcerating and executing people, for no reason except their racial/ethnic identity, on a socially acceptable set of beliefs and on an industrial scale – in other words murder and exile that was socially supported – if not cheered – and backed up by state authority was something the world had never seen before, and, it was presumed would “never again” see. As with the Nazis, any era that embraces and embodies such philosophies and techniques loses its own humanity first. All that needs to be said, and embraced, is “Never again!”.”