Is there a cure for hate?

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” — James Baldwin

Every so often you read something that shifts the way you think.

In university, revelations were often inspired by literature.

In studying T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land,” it was this section:

“I have heard the key Turn in the door once and turn once only

We think of the key, each in his prison Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison”

I remember it was one of those mind-blowing moments you have as a young person exploring and testing the limits of your intelligence.

What did Eliot mean? That our minds hold the key to our liberation or salvation as human beings once we stop thinking exclusively of ourselves? That’s one interpretation. At any rate, it sure made me think.

This week, it was a piece on The Conversation website by Izzeldin Abuelaish, a medical doctor and a professor of global health at the University of Toronto, that fired up my mind.

In an article published May 26, “Why hatred should be considered a contagious disease,” Abuelaish writes:

“Hatred can be conceptualized as an infectious disease, a determinant of health and a public health issue spreading violence, fear and ignorance.

Hatred is contagious and crosses barriers and borders, and no one is immune to its risks.…

“Hatred is also a disease of the human heart, soul and body. Hatred is a complex process that attacks humankind and becomes a community disease. Hatred is complex, discrete, involves destructive intent, is contagious to individuals, groups and communities and is often the result of exposure to harm. It is the result of chronic frustration leading to episodes of rage that go unaddressed.”

Setting aside the complex webs of hate and political corruption that often underpin wars, think about acts of violence we hear about in the news with startling regularity.

Think of terrible acts of violence like the Montreal massacre of Dec. 6, 1989, where a misogynist armed with a semi-automatic weapon gunned down 14 women and injured 13 other people before shooting himself. As he killed, he screamed “You are all feminists.”

He left a suicide note blaming feminists for ruining his life and containing a hit list of “radical” feminists he had planned to kill.

Think of George Floyd, and what motivated a police officer to kneel on his neck until he was dead.

Think of the Toronto van attack of April 23, 2018, when a man killed 10 people and injured 16 others.

In its wake, the U.K. Guardian reported: “Speaking with police following his arrest in 2018, the accused told officers that he belonged to an online subculture of men who blame women for their sexual frustration — and that he drew inspiration from others who used violence as a form of retribution …”

And consider the reaction to the Edmonton Oilers’ Ethan Bear, who is of Cree descent, who was targeted with racist messages on social media this week after the Oilers lost to the Winnipeg Jets.

Could all these expressions of hate be reflective of, as Izzeldin Abuelaish suggests, a contagious disease?

Is hate something we can inherit through our genes, or a product of both nature and nurture? Can it be identified and addressed before it spreads further?

Abuelaish seems to believe the latter. He writes:

“The global community must recognize hatred as a public health issue in order to move from the management of hatred to the active prevention of its root causes through promotion, education and awareness. We must measure it and if unable to prevent it, mitigate it.”

I think he’s onto something.