Monday, 14 July 2025
Monday, 30 June 2025
Human Violence vs. Complementary Humanism (No. 02) By Ajith Rohan J.T.F., Rome
This reflection probes deeply into the paradoxical nature of human violence, oscillating between unconscious drives and conscious justifications. I observe that humans, despite their cultural and ethical frameworks, often revert to a state of "unconscious-conscious contradiction," where violence is rationalized or even celebrated when convenient. This duality is starkly evident in historical and contemporary atrocities, where moral boundaries dissolve under the weight of power, ideology, and/or perceived necessity. My style of reading and narrating, by linking historical hypocrisy to modern atrocities must become a manifesto against the collective historical amnesia of all.
A Possible Definition of Human Violence
Universal and Natural Level
There is no such thing as violence or nonviolence at the universal, natural level. Everything occurs freely and spontaneously. No entity exists to judge according to conventional, habitual, or written prejudices, laws, rules, or regulations, nor to punish or reward.
Violence is Adamantly a Human Perspective
According to my definition of man (“Man is Aventelogos,” Doctoral Thesis, 2008, Rome), humans are the catalytic foundation of violence and nonviolence, justice and injustice, good and bad. Human beings are the creators of the man-made world, where we play with rules, regulations, dichotomies of good and bad, justice and injustice, reciprocal respect, and violence and nonviolence.
What is Violence, then?
Our conscious-intellectual-logical perspective contextually generates a relative existential complexity comprising rules, regulations, ethical codes, written laws, and more radical unwritten conventions - all rooted in habit-based relations, communications, and behaviours.
We have endured continuous local, regional, and global wars, as well as revolutions against various unjust causes. The harrowing experiences from these conflicts led to universal agreements to live without war, striving instead for peaceful relations and communication. Otherwise, as Thomas Hobbes noted, human beings in motion would perpetually clash, much like the spontaneous universe. The "man-made world" would then become a realm of homo homini lupus est and thus, bellum omnium contra omnes (the war of all against all).
According to the UNDRR’s definition of violence, each human being must first respect themselves and others as individuals, as groups, with their psychological differences, ways of living, and distinct SPEC (Socio-Political-Economic-Cultural) systems. Humans ought to coexist without harming one another physically (no killing, infliction of harm, or injury) or psychologically.
Method
I have observed the behaviour of both individuals and conveniently agglomerated groups in their pursuit of objective targets, particularly through the use of black rhetoric and the ambiguous application and interpretation of laws, rules, and punishments. These tactics are neither new nor of my invention; they have existed since the dawn of human societies and remain deeply ingrained in behavioural patterns today.
It is fascinating, albeit disturbing, to witness their shameless effrontery as they play their dirty games in public, adorned with hollow decorum and empty honour. Thus, in this second part of the article on “Human Violence vs. Complementary Humanism,” I propose a fresh lens for interpreting select historical events, one that exposes these enduring patterns of coercion and deceit.
Historical Patterns of Violence: From Concealed Hypocrisy to Open Slaughter
I observe that history reveals the same violence, repackaged. Let us trace its mutations from the intimate to the existential. Through my historical selections, I intertwine different but logically relevant examples, each representing a distinct facet of institutionalized violence, personal hypocrisy, state-sanctioned silencing, ideological extremism, and modern warfare, constructing a cohesive argument.
King David and the Weaponization of Power
Even the so-called ‘divinely chosen’ are not immune to violence-as-convenience. King David, lauded as a righteous ruler, orchestrated the death of Uriah to conceal his adultery with Bathsheba, a ‘legal murder’ disguised as battlefield sacrifice. His public piety (Psalms of repentance) only underscores the hypocrisy: violence wears the mask of virtue when backed by power.
A rational reader may wonder why I cite a biblical figure to prove my argument. First, I respect this collection of historical, philosophical, and cultural books as I do other so-called sacred texts like the Bible, Quran, and Torah. The Bible was a powerful tool of colonizers, used to subdue ancient civilizations after conquest. Thus, the world’s cultural-civilizational mentality remains influenced by these texts. None can deny that global cultural hegemony is still shaped by this book, which underpins Western-U.S. thought.
Socrates and the Violence of ‘Order’
The Athenian state, threatened by Socrates’ questions, sentenced him to death, not for crimes, but for unsettling the peace of complacency. His hemlock cup was poured by democracy itself, proof that systems punish ‘disruptors’ to preserve their own fragility. Then as now, ‘stability’ justifies silencing.
Hitler: The Human Shadow Unleashed
Hitler is not a historical anomaly but a mirror. His genocidal ideology was (and is) the repressed frustration and violent entitlement latent in collective humanity. Neo-Nazism’s global resurgence confirms this: when socio-political structures fracture, the ‘Hitler within’ is ritualized as a solution. He lives wherever identity is weaponized against the ‘other.’
Ongoing Warfare: Russia, Ukraine, Gaza
Today’s wars are no less cynical. Russia invades Ukraine under pretences of ‘denazification,’ while obliterating cities. Israel’s bombardment of Gaza, framed as ‘self-defence,’ replicates the very trauma Jews endured in the Holocaust. The script never changes - elites invoke past wounds to justify new ones, while the powerless die for abstractions: borders, histories, ‘security.’
Gaza and the Inversion of Trauma
The Holocaust remains humanity’s darkest testament to industrialized genocide a crime so monstrous that ‘Never Again’ became a universal oath. Yet in Gaza, we witness a grotesque irony: victims of historical persecution now wield overwhelming military force against a stateless population, repeating cycles of collective punishment they once endured. This is not moral equivalence but a tragic ‘exposure’ of how trauma, when weaponized by power, distorts justice into vengeance. The warning is clear: unhealed wounds, institutionalized, become future weapons.
Conclusion for Part 02
By writing this second part of the series, my aim is to strip away illusions, forcing humanity to confront its own contradictions - a rupture in collective denial where trauma, hypocrisy, or institutionalized violence can no longer be masked by rhetoric (e.g., King David’s piety, Hitler’s populism, or modern war propaganda). This study must serve as a diagnostic tool, like a surgeon cutting into flesh to reveal infection. My method dissects historical events to expose the congenital nature of human violence. The grotesque irony in Gaza is a systematic exposé (in Chinese, bàolù) of trauma’s cyclical corruption: power, even when born of suffering, replicates the structures it once resisted.
Philosophically, I use historical examples to reflect violence as a culturally human-made phenomenon, justified by laws, fear, traditions, and tribalism. One might think I provoke readers by connecting Hitler to modern extremism or Gaza to Holocaust inversion, forcing uncomfortable introspection. Yet, while respecting differing viewpoints, I affirm that humanity keeps reproducing violence, sometimes in ways that echo past horrors. The solution is not to rank atrocities but to:
1. Learn from history (how dehumanization leads to massacre),
2. Apply consistent ethical standards (condemn war crimes, whoever commits them),
3. Reject ideological demonization (whether anti-Semitic, Islamophobic, or nationalist).
If these patterns are congenital, is transcendence possible? Part 3 will explore whether Complementary Humanism can dismantle the machinery it built.
Saturday, 21 June 2025
Quantum Pets: How Animals Taught Me to Dance in the Flux. by Ajith Rohan J.T.F., Rome
(My personal factual background information taken from WATER, autobiographical graphic-novel story)
Rejecting any form of violence
Even now, I feel a kind of boredom and mental nausea when I simply hear or see the killing of people, animals, or the destruction of nature. When I was a child, I only played with a catapult once. I managed to hurt a bird, but immediately, for the first time, I felt what I described above. After that experience, I even avoided hanging out with friends who played with catapults and similar things. I still remember how that bird struggled in my little hands to free itself. I felt alienated from within and could not follow the habits and traditions that others followed so naturally.
I chose study, library and playground
Instead, I chose studying and collecting books, magazines, and newspapers thinking of a personal library. My favourite place was, and still is, the library (Now, I have my own physical and digital libraries in two countries). I also enjoyed team games, playground and swimming in lakes and in streams. At that time, I was the leader of about forty other kids of my age.
One day, when I was almost 12 years old, I saw some newly arrived books at the library I frequented in a small city-town in the northwest of Sri Lanka. I found all the books by Arthur Conan Doyle. The first work I chose was The Hound of the Baskervilles (1902). It was this work that sparked, for the first time, my potential for logical thinking as a researcher, observer and investigator of knowledge without falling into superstitions. Thus, Sherlock Holmes became one of the dominant figures shaping my cultural and civil character as a teenager.
In addition, as an adolescent, my mental and logical processes were irreversibly influenced and enriched by Bertrand Russell, Wittgenstein, Immanuel Kant, J. Krishnamurti, Alan Watts and by the Buddhist literature – specifically by the Milindapañha. I have to remind also “Bhagawath Geetha” which I encountered in Italy and helped a lot to understand what I was searching: behaviour of dark matter. No one has succeeded in changing and diminishing the self-directed education I acquired through research, observation, experimentation, reading, and direct experience from my childhood. I became wholly pragmatic and empirical who reason relative facts with cold precision, yet one can read between these lines how I am also sensitive in a certain way.
Who pushed me to choose a dog?
However, I am certain that it was The Hound of the Baskervilles that inspired me to train a dog named Jimmy. Although I still believe animals should live freely in their own world without too much human involvement, at least with me, I have not always felt this way. You can read this reflection on a dog and two she-cats (queens) to see how I became emotionally involved with their lives and relaxed in the presence of their affection. But this is not all.
The story of three animals in my life
After “The Hound of the Baskervilles”- Jimmy
The puppy dog Jimmy, with whom I had quite a close connection, I can feel it even today. I had him in Sri Lanka when I was an adolescent. From the first day, he formed a strong bond with me. It filled the space of my other self. As I look back today, in some ways, Jimmy represented my projected self: authentic, respectful, but not obedient. He was also independent and playful. But one night, Jimmy was attacked by a dog that had rabies, and after a few days, my father had to put him down. That day, I decided never to have a pet for myself again.
How I met Queen Isha
Then came Isha, a totally independent and playful cat who indirectly entered my life. Strictly speaking, the cat was not mine but belonged to my friend in Rome, where I was staying. When she told me that she was going to get a cat, I suggested a dog instead. Then my friend replied ironically: “Oh, yes! I already have a dynamic and intelligent dog in the first room. Now, I only need a queen.” Then she added: “Also, I will name her Isha.” That was Isha’s arrival.
Though I don’t particularly like cats (I prefer dogs) or animals in general around me, they come into my life like this. I saw how fast Isha grew up. The ironic thing was that she formed a strong bond with me from a very young age. I used to wake up early in the morning to go to university or to the National library of Rome for research, and I always found Isha at my door, waiting to go to the kitchen and then play with me. She loved playing with the shadows of my hands. She became very skilled at jumping toward the shadow of my hand on the wall.
Well, until I left for work, my friend found it difficult to rest because two of us made enough noise to keep her awake. But she couldn’t say anything; the cat was hers.
Isha, the cat, somehow became a kind of therapy for my busy life with so many commitments. In addition, she slowly became my projected affection, too. But one day, I had to move to northern Italy, and everything ended. I did not want to hear about her anymore from my friend in Rome. However, my friend told me that Isha continued to look for me and slept on the bed where I used to sleep.
Queen Sisi
Then came Sisi, where I live now. I watched her grow up in the courtyard. Sisi was completely wild and suspicious. She hid as soon as she saw a human being. Her behaviour was similar to that of a wild cat. Maybe her mother had a relationship with such a cat around the vines and cornfields. However, over time, she lost all her siblings and even her mother.
Sisi, humanly speaking, became an orphan. She began to develop a little trust in human beings. One day, while I was on the phone in the yard, she approached me and showed me her trust. I didn’t pay attention because of the phone call. Afterwards, I noticed she was sleeping on my feet. I felt her trust and affection.
In this way, she also entered my life. We always felt good together, and she preferred to lie on my feet whenever I was on the phone. Time passed for her, too, and she grew up. Like all animals, nature began to influence her body through irresistible hormonal urges to procreate or to transform energy into new forms of cats.
She suffered greatly from her naivety under this hormonal attack. She tried to find relief from her pain by running to me and away from others. I felt unusual, annoyed and lost. That night, I saw through my window many cats in the yard running around her, making their sounds. After that, I noticed how her physical form changed. Everything seemed to calm down.
Three months ago, I took some photographs of her in the yard. Then, a month and a half ago, she disappeared. Someone told me they saw Sisi wet with some liquid; they thought it was blood. Anyway, that was the last time I heard about her. She disappeared. We don’t know what happened to her or her little ones.
She has left memories of herself, and I was able to capture her images with my cell phone when she was waiting for food. Well, I miss her. Maybe I should promise myself again not to have any affectionate relationships with animals? I don’t know. I now know for sure who I am and the world around me. So, I don’t worry about deciding or not deciding anything. I know for sure that what happens, happens without any logical interference.