In the aftermath of the terrorist attack in Manchester on Monday night, I found myself wondering (not for the first time) either, “How could anyone do a thing like that?” or the precursor question, “How could anyone even think of doing a thing like that?”  After all, no one does a thing like that without first spending a lot of time thinking about it.  Over the last few days, with a sense of unease, I have found some insight into this from my experience of depression.

During my depression, my mind took me to some dark places, although I would have had to have spent months or even years thinking those thoughts in order to have actually followed them through.  Nevertheless, from where I stand now, I can say to myself, “How could I even think of doing a thing like that?”  Those dark places were the result of my mind feeding on a distorted vision of the world:  a self-imposed one in which my existence was a constant burden to others.  My mind took this distorted vision, powerfully amplified it, followed it to its “logical” conclusion and supressed any dawning realisation that its foundations were not those of truth and love.

As I found with my reading about the Holocaust, having a sense of how people could come to do these things is deeply disturbing.  It would be much easier to think of such people in simplistic terms such as “evil losers”, who are impossible to understand and in some way created from a completely different mould to the rest of us.  The truth, I believe, is rather more complex than that.  I’m reminded of the following story:

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life.  “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.  “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.”  He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.  The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

As someone once said, “No man is an island, entire of itself”.  We are social creatures and as a result do not feed our wolves alone, but also feed those inside each other.  Evil does exist and it can grow in any of us.  Our actions are our own responsibility, but how might those actions be affected by our minds being fed a distorted vision of the world by those around us:  one based on fear, anger, hatred and lies?

Although this more complex view of evil might seem rather scary, there is a more positive aspect to it:  although we don’t have the power to control or eliminate evil, we do all have the power to make a difference.  We can choose which wolf we feed in ourselves and in those around us and so build a better society.  As individuals and as a country, we can choose which wolf we feed in our enemies.  Suddenly, the command to love your enemies comes sharply into focus:  any other response merely feeds the bad wolf in them and builds up greater trouble for the future.  We should have the courage to acknowledge this truth, even though we may be accused of making excuses for those who perform evils deeds.

With the general election campaign back under way, I have one final thought.  Fear is a powerful tool, but it is not just the foodstuff of terrorists.  All too often, sadly, our politicians try to gain our votes by inducing fear of the opposition’s arguments rather than trusting in the truth of their own arguments:  Leave = financial meltdown;  Remain = swamped by migrants;  coalition of chaos;  dementia tax;  return to the 1970s etc.  Such slogans are all appeals to fear, which fall some way short of truth.  They may win an election, but only by feeding the bad wolves in us all.