The Ugliness of Violence

Recently, in the news of the world, there have been mass protests throughout the Middle East and North Africa regions. People have been flooding the streets, men and women alike, chanting, “We Want Change!” lighting vehicles on fire, throwing rocks at various government buildings and officials. Their angry faces and voices represent years upon years of bitter suffering and resentment. Ousting the President of Tunisia was a

reinforcement for the rest of watching world, as news of his corruption and greed broke. For years, Tunisia was touted as a representative for the rest of the Arab and North African areas, putting education at the top of the list, making enrollment in school mandatory until the age of 16. Now all the encomium is tainted, marred by images of Ben Ali’s wife filling her pockets with their constituents money and assets. I retch in the false assumption that the government was a role model to others. With Egypt and Yemen not too far behind, I wonder about the rest of these nations who have been placated with a false sense of democracy. A president who stays in office for over 30 years is not a president, he is a dictator. No wonder these people are enraged, and finally, they have the gumption to demand change.
Another headline that caught my eye, was the stoning of a young couple in Afghanistan. They had been convicted of committing adultery. They were fleeing to Pakistan when they received a message from their village: Come back, no harm will come to you. They returned, believing in the promise. Saving the horrific details, they were both stoned, most of the village had come out to watch or participate. She was still alive when the last stone was thrown, and a Taliban soldier fired three shots into her head.
Unfortunately, I come to draw references from these tragic stories: the ugliness of violence. Watching images of protesters throwing rocks at police, destroying buildings, engulfed by their rage that it no longer matters who is hurt, as long as the satisfactory clamor follows after their rock hits. I am as appalled as I am confused. I never have known such deep seated anger, such wrath to want to hurt and destroy. I look at the couple in Afghanistan, their crime a common story, but their punishment so unusual and barbaric. What makes us commit such violent acts?