The two steaming mugs of coffee were placed on the heavy wooden counter in Loureiro’s small workshop. Loureiro, the cobbler, was skilled in both sewing leather and crafting ideas. I told him about how palpable to me was the sense that the planetary psychosphere seemed dense due to the intolerance among people. Points of view, religious beliefs, political opinions, or any other matters of collective interest had become sources of unnecessary conflict. It was an ancient and primitive practice that humanity had not managed to overcome. Intolerance had extended to the minimum details of our personal issues. Choices define the way each individual lives and behaves; for the most trivial reasons, people were excluded from each other’s company. Social networks had magnified this pernicious sense of power—or mistaken perception of strength. Without interfering with others’ fundamental rights, everyone has the legitimacy to self-determine. However, simple opinions had been elevated to the altar of untouchable truths, with disagreements being received as genuine offences, provoking various forms of aggressive reactions. Repressed and denied hatred had found a way to surface, unmasking personalities that claimed to be peaceful. Ironies, sarcasms, and all kinds of banishments were the most practiced modalities. Without realising it, even some words had been deemed for the exclusive interpretation of certain groups, being declared forbidden under threat of severe sanctions. Such intense pressure that some legislations had distorted to join in this absurd journey. These were strange times that needed urgent reinterpretation. Loureiro took a sip of coffee and said, “As the poet says, imprisoning perspectives roam free; liberating perspectives remain bound.”
I said it was necessary to reverse the equation. The cobbler nodded and commented, “Until we understand the hatred that we often don’t even notice but nurture within us, nothing will change. Intolerance is such a common form of hatred that we tend to build reasoning through erratic pathways just to justify our aggressive reactions. Because they become common, we think they are correct, that there is no other way to do things differently and better. Then, we destroy ourselves. Worse, we help to amplify this dense planetary psychosphere you mentioned. Take the case of certain words that have become forbidden to speak because some groups interpret them exclusively, as if they owned a single valid interpretation, not allowing anyone else the right to express different ideas and feelings with the same words. They have become proprietors of something that does not belong to them.” He took a sip of coffee before explaining, “Indeed, many use certain words with the intent to offend. However, sometimes, the offence is not in the lips of those who utter them but in the heart of those who listen.”
He frowned and added, “However, the offence turns into aggressive reactions before allowing a more loving and wiser, broader and deeper, more sincere and compassionate analysis of the intention of the one who uttered it. We live in strange and nefarious days when guilt pre-exists merely by presumption. Intolerance, as a cultural element, has ceased to be the exception and has become the rule in interactions. A very cruel social prison, as it limits free thinking and obstructs communication between people, by establishing self-censorship. A prison within another. We have begun to live as if we had a pre-installed conflict software within us.”
I Agreed with the Cobbler. He warned me, “No one takes pleasure in using hatred as an ingredient for their reactions. We disguise hatred with countless justifications. Justice is one of them. We vent our anger under the pretext of being fair; it is the most common form of revenge. Sometimes, secretly, we are more pleased with the death of a wrongdoer than with their judgment by a competent tribunal within the modern framework of the law, turning our backs on an important civilisational milestone. However, it is the others who are the savages. It is worth noting that this has nothing to do with the legitimate use of force by police officers in the strict execution of their duties. Nor does it concern unscrupulous politicians who distort facts to gain undue electoral advantages or defend questionable interests. It is necessary to separate the wheat from the chaff. In any sincere analysis, illuminating hatred will always be fundamental. Especially the hatred we are unaware of. Otherwise, the mind will remain obstructed, and the heart overshadowed. Hatred has that power.”
He took another sip of coffee and said, “Another common type of hatred is sadism; perhaps the least perceptible form of hatred that resides within us.” He shrugged and said, “We are more sadistic than we believe. In various shades, there is more sadism within you and me than we realise.” I immediately disagreed. Up until that point, the cobbler had been articulating ideas impeccably. At that juncture, he had overstepped. I mentioned that the term originated from the works of the Marquis de Sade, a controversial 18th-century French writer who advocated the pleasure of witnessing others’ suffering through mistreatment. I could never align myself with such absurdity. Without responding, Loureiro emptied his coffee cup. He then said he would make some more. As he headed to the small kitchen in the workshop, he slipped and fell to the ground. I let out a hearty laugh. Before I could help him, the slender cobbler got up effortlessly. It was a simulation. He then asked me the reason for my laughter. Embarrassed, I apologised but admitted I found his fall amusing. I confessed I had not realised it was staged. Loureiro asked, “What is the motivation behind the pleasure in watching someone else’s fall?” He added, “Often, when we know that people who have hurt us are in a maze of difficulties, we secretly like to believe that they are paying for the harm they caused us. We tell ourselves that justice has been done.” Yes, I had experienced that sensation a few times without recognising its true cause. Regretful, I closed my eyes. Yes, although in varying degrees, there are remnants of hatred manifested in imperceptible doses of sadism that we are still unaware of. At that moment, I realised that not only physical falls but also intellectual, emotional, and moral downfalls of others can secretly entertain or please us. We do not always wish harm upon others. Or even never, as many would say. But why, when it does happen, do we feel some secretive and sneaky pleasure? The more I got to know myself, the more unknown aspects revealed themselves. Everything I don’t want in my baggage needs correction in my routes.
The day was breaking. The conversation was rich. I wanted to talk and hear more about intolerance and hatred. I waited for Loureiro to refresh the mugs with fresh coffee. Before we could resume the discussion, one of the cobbler’s nephews entered the workshop. His face showed evident anger. I had met the young man on other occasions. His name was Lucas. A cultured, kind, and articulate young man, he expressed his ideas and ideals clearly. He had a genuine desire to change the world; it was impossible not to sympathise with him. As soon as he entered, he said he needed to speak with his uncle. I said I would leave them to it. Lucas said it was not necessary; it was a public matter, and my presence would also be important. He explained that the previous afternoon, a group of extremists had murdered some students at the university where he also studied. The motive was ethnic. These students came from a country undergoing significant political turmoil, with stringent measures against neighbouring countries. The murders were a warning to the rulers that such decisions needed to be reversed immediately. Lucas knew the murdered students; they were good and gentle people, with no connection to the politicians of that country. They had been punished simply for being born there; they only wanted to study and live in peace. He clarified that, at that moment, the terrorists were in a building surrounded by the police and negotiating their surrender. He declared that there could be no tolerance for the behaviour of those murderers. Nothing should be negotiated; no trial would have educational value for individuals who resort to such practices. At that moment, he confessed that he was part of groups formed on social networks that were calling for the police to execute the murderers. Zero tolerance for evil, he emphasised.
The cobbler settled his nephew next to us and offered him a cup of coffee. I tried to lighten the mood by saying that coffee opens the mind and comforts the heart. Sensing the warmth, the young man felt a little better, smiled, thankful, and accepted a mug. I asked him to calm down. Lucas said he didn’t know how. Loureiro began to explain: “By dismantling hatred.” The young man asked if his uncle did not see the hatred and stupidity driving those terrorists. The cobbler nodded and clarified, “Exactly for that reason. I wouldn’t want your motivation to be the same as that which drove the murderers to their absurd barbarity. We cannot allow hatred and stupidity to dictate our choices as well. That would be a victory for darkness. In these moments, it is essential to resist in the light.”
Lucas questioned whether his uncle felt even a trace of compassion for the deceased young men. Loureiro maintained his calm so that his reasons could be heard: “Exactly because there is compassion, I cannot allow hatred to take command of my actions. Compassion is a virtue, thus a valuable way to love. Since when has hatred been a good companion to love? They are inherently incompatible.”
He waited for Lucas to sip his coffee and told his nephew, “Without a doubt, we must stem the evil. At any level and in any form. However, the way we oppose evil determines whether we will find genuine justice. The illusion of stopping evil by pouring our own hatred upon it would be like trying to extinguish a fire with gasoline. Revenge will remain, and justice will not exist. It is a difficult but necessary deconstruction.”
The nephew asked if his uncle was suggesting that the terrorists should go unpunished. Loureiro clarified, “That is not what I said. Addressing wrongdoings, whatever they may be, in a just manner is bringing light where darkness prevails. Due to the incapacity hatred causes in thinking and how it poisons feeling, it is impossible to be just while driven by hatred. This applies to all aspects of life, from the most intimate relationships to the most heinous crimes in the world. For, on different scales and degrees, there is a nearly imperceptible correlation between them. To be just and to feel compassion are enlightened virtues; to act out of hatred is to become entangled in one’s own shadows and lose oneself in the darkness. There will be no light in trying to reconcile such antagonism in a single choice.”
He looked at his nephew seriously and reminded him, “Contemporary civilizations, for the most part, through modern legislation, already have appropriate judicial mechanisms to deal with murderers. Due to their mental and emotional prisons, they will be sent to concrete penitentiaries for containment, and if there is sincere reflection and remorse, there should be a chance for regeneration. This is the main difference between justice and revenge. While revenge calls for destruction and scorched earth, justice offers a chance for deconstruction followed by reconstruction; this principle distinguishes shadows from light. Every wrongdoer is a type of avenger. Both those who are intolerant of minor choices differing from their own and those who commit the most heinous crimes, for the most part, feel wronged. Lost within themselves, they believe, whether consciously or not, that their actions will avenge their pain. In reacting to this existential dissonance, we can either draw closer or drift away from the same movement. This sets the boundaries of humanity within each of us. Manifestations of hatred against the hatred that drives criminal acts only serve to distort the purity of judgments, undermining the educational aspect that must be present in the content of sentences. Punishment, although necessary for its constrictive and reflective aspect, must offer a regenerative opportunity, which could even be disregarded by the criminal; however, it must not cease to exist. Otherwise, we will continue as a society of avengers seeking revenge on other avengers. A path leading to a precipice.”
He took a sip of coffee and expanded his reasoning: “Homicide is the ultimate expression of hatred. No one is born this way, but one can become so; the seed resides in small personal intolerances, when I get irritated by someone else’s way of thinking simply because it opposes mine. We still struggle to deal with differences. We feel fear and envy. We hate when the mirror shows us something we do not want to see; we hate our impotence in dealing with the unknown or with things we feel incapable of interacting with and living alongside. We hate discomfort, whatever its form. The seed is hatred; with the slightest carelessness, discomfort can become fertile ground. Just a small amount of hatred is enough to awaken the dormant monster. My hatred, my demon. The force of my hatred establishes the power of my shadows. It is worth remembering that the stain of evil falls not only on those who practice it but also on those who, even if secretly, take pleasure in witnessing the downfall of others. There are countless forms of falling.”
Although restrained, Lucas’s irritation was evident in his expression at his uncle’s perspective on what he believed to be the most obvious of reasons. The young man questioned how to discern if someone’s way of being and living might not be a form of evil deserving some kind of intervention. Loureiro explained, “As long as individual choices do not infringe upon the rights of others; as long as they do not invade the sacred space of others, freedom must be absolute. We all have our intrinsic difficulties; as long as they remain within the realm of individual rights, there must be respect. We cannot justify intolerance in personal matters by using extreme examples of evil, such as terrorism and murder, to validate our minor grievances and suppress the freedom of choices that are different from our own.”
The young man referenced Plato, who said that every individual is a political animal, as any action, in some way, has a reflection on society. The cobbler clarified, “Undoubtedly, but such a concept needs limits to avoid becoming abusive. Otherwise, intolerance will escalate to unbearable levels. Such understanding should never extend to intervening in someone’s legitimate freedom over their own life. It is up to me to choose my own path. The counterpoint is to respect different choices within the same sphere, even if they are contrary to mine. If these choices irritate me, they reveal something still poorly constructed within me. It is pointless to blame anyone else.”
Loureiro finished his coffee and remarked, “For millennia, hatred has been one of the most common political manifestations through our small interpersonal interactions. The solution is to bring love into them.”
Lucas’s irritation intensified. With a harsh tone, he asked if his uncle was advising him not to express his discontent. The cobbler corrected him again: “Once more, that’s not what I said. You have the right to express your truth. However, do so in a serene, clear, and objective manner, with love, so it is respectful and can be heard by your listeners. Although no one is obliged to agree with you. Hatred, due to its conflictual and intolerant nature, fosters misunderstanding and oppression. In essence, that is all I said.”
Frustrated with Loureiro’s calm yet firm stance, Lucas declared that he felt offended by his uncle. He described himself as a libertarian, democratic, and peaceful individual who merely wanted to live in a better world. The cobbler recalled a basic lesson: “Everyone wants a better world. But they want to build it by forcing others to conform to their ideas. When they fail, they get angry and find a way to punish those who don’t comply. You claim to be offended when I made no offense; I merely offered my perspective on the issue. Although it differs from yours, it is my perspective. I presented it in a calm and gentle manner; therefore, within my right to express it without any coercive reaction simply because it is discordant. If I do not interfere with your rights, I will continue to freely seek who I am. Without unauthorized intrusions.”
He concluded, “Exclusions promoted by intolerant discourses are disguised practices to isolate those who refuse to agree with us. This, although they deny it, is called revenge. They do not realize it, but they are driven by hatred of opposition, despite the eloquent speeches crafted with beautiful words. Hatred has no constructive power; it only destroys. It requires love to deconstruct, not the world, but oneself. Only then can a modern reconstruction begin on better foundations, like the pillars of a distinct building. Personal evolution is the only effective method to genuinely change the world; everything else is a deceptive way to oppress many for the interests and desires of a few. This is my belief.”
Suppressing his irritation, Lucas thanked Loureiro for the conversation and the coffee. He mentioned he had something he had to do, said his goodbyes, and left. Alone with me, Loureiro commented, “Everything in the world has a neutral polarity. How we use each thing defines its positive or negative aspect. Social media is a wonderful tool to bring people closer when used to enhance relationships. However, on the other hand, it is replacing the so-called popular movements of the past, which, like all things, can also be used well or poorly. Diverted from its noble intentions, under the pretext of securing supposed advantages, faced with skilfully manipulated threats, it fosters fear and binds us through hatred. Thus, it represses love and steals freedom. Misplaced and tagged with shameful labels, when weakened, I lose the best of myself.”
I finished my coffee in silence. I needed to process those ideas. Yes, some of my reactions were mere revenge that was still imperceptible to me; there was hidden hatred in need of deconstruction. There would always be a reconstruction waiting ahead. It was time for my train. It would be a long journey home.
Translated by Cazmilian Zórdic.
