On the principle of caring

Global reactions to Venezuela reveal how selectively the world chooses to care

The events in Venezuela this past weekend have brought a flurry of emotions and reactions. Depending upon the source of the newsfeed, one may be seeing scenes of jubilation among the diaspora that had suffered tremendously under various previous regimes in Venezuela, or those protesting yet another international intervention, or analysts on TV making endless predictions about the near and distant future, or law experts discussing legal aspects, domestic or international. Some have been saying 'I told you so' when it came to the relevance of the UN. Others are concerned about what might happen to markets and their savings or portfolios.

Zooming out presents yet another series of divergent opinions – some governments in the region are disturbed and concerned, others are cheering. And then there is a large group of countries – including many in our part of the world – that are completely silent. There can be many reasons for that – perhaps it is pragmatic politics, or perhaps many simply do not care. And it is this question of who we should care for, and care beyond calculation, politics, or strategy is that I want to focus on.

Many of us choose to care for some groups, based on family ties, friendship, religion, ethnicity or other political or personal material interests. There is a line in our minds on who we care for and who is beyond that line. On the other side of our lines, it is ad hoc, random and transient. At a societal level, some version of patriotism suggests that care and concern are for fellow citizens. That is, we should deeply care about people in our country. But we know that within a nation state, under conditions that are often all too common, sub-categories of people are treated unequally based on ethnicity, sect or other factors. Some citizens are more equal than others – or worse, some are denied citizenship (and hence are less worthy of our concern and love) even if they have lived amongst us for generations. Many natives quickly become outsiders. So we end up with a dilemma of who do we care for? Or more importantly, who do we not care for? One approach to this dilemma is to care for no one except oneself – or perhaps those who are closest to us by blood. Everyone else is an outsider, not our responsibility, or they only matter to us for as long as it serves our self-interest in some way, and beyond that, their existence is immaterial to us. This model – while utterly pragmatic – is ultimately doomed to fail as it eventually takes us away from what things that makes us inherently human: love and the happiness it brings, connection with others and the joy it enables. It also breaks down because self-interests sooner or later collide, leading to conflicts big and small.

Often, our approach is rooted in what seems like philanthropy of caring – we care because it is a good thing, not because it is the right thing. Thus, we think about caring as if it is a reservoir and dole it out based on some internal algorithm, not as a responsibility. I wonder if we are thinking about it wrong – instead of thinking that we care as if we are giving someone a gift, we should be concerned about others because we owe it to them. Of course, ties of family and blood, kinship and friendship, are inherently human, and it is absolutely reasonable to acknowledge that the suffering of those who are closer to us will have a greater impact, but we cannot shrug off the pain of others, including those with whom we may have strong disagreements, as inconsequential or insignificant. National interests do not need to be in conflict with fundamental human decency and the deep concern for human dignity. It is not unpatriotic to care for the vulnerable among those who live in enemy lands, to be worried about the well-being of someone who is born in a community that has not been kind to our ancestors. In a large tapestry, the beauty of the whole ultimately depends on the integrity of each thread, both distant and near to whatever the frame of reference may be.