You Must Not Let Hatred Inhabit You

I recently finished reading Les Bouts de bois de Dieu (God’s Bits of Wood), a historical fiction novel by Ousmane Sembene recounting the story of the railroad strike in Senegal and Mali in 1947-1948. It is a tragic tale that describes how the native people there suffered because of the mistreatment of the French colonials and because of the repercussions of the strike. The book displays the flaws and natural man tendencies of both the natives and the whites, and I was somewhat disappointed to not find throughout most of the book a hero on either side of the divide without serious flaws. I finally found the character I was looking for, though, at the end of the novel. Fa Keïta was an elderly man who was arrested and sent to a prison camp during the strike, even though he had not really supported the movement. While he languished with many other men in a dark and disgusting jail, he tried to pray but was stopped by another who suggested that it was simply too dirty to kneel and put his forehead on the ground. After many days they were all taken outside and were witness to the torture of one of their group who had scalding water dripped on him. During this, the book recounts what Fa Keïta did: 

Son regard était fixé vers l’est, au-delà des barbelés, au-delà de la savane et des grands arbres qui épaulaient le ciel, loin à l’horizon ; ses yeux allaient à la rencontre de la seule chose qui méritait vraiment la souffrance : la foi en Dieu. Cette dégradation qui frappait des êtres humains lui était insupportable. Certes, il ne partageait pas l’enthousiasme des « jeunes » qui les avait amenés là, mais il commençait à se demander si ces « jeunes » n’avaient pas raison contre sa sagesse. Il marcha encore deux tours puis il prit la décision à laquelle il réfléchissait depuis un moment : puisqu’il ne pouvait pas prier dans la pestilence de la prison, il profiterait de cette occasion qui lui était offerte ; à pas lents, il quitta les rangs et se dirigea vers l’enceinte du camp ; il s’arrêta, ramassa une poignée sable pour les ablutions et se redressa en ceignant son pagne. Les paumes ouvertes, tournées vers la Kaaba, il commença à psalmodier. 

(English translation) His gaze was fixed toward the east, beyond the barbed wire, beyond the savannah and the tall trees that shouldered the sky, far into the horizon; his eyes went to encounter the only thing that truly deserved suffering: faith in God. This degradation that struck human beings was unbearable to him. Certainly, he did not share the enthusiasm of the "young people" who had brought them there, but he was beginning to wonder if these "young people" were not right against his wisdom. He walked two more laps and then he made the decision he had been thinking about for a while: since he could not pray in the stench of the prison, he would take advantage of this opportunity that was offered to him; with slow steps, he left the ranks and headed toward the camp enclosure; he stopped, picked up a handful of sand for ablutions and stood up, girding on his loincloth. With open palms, turned toward the Kaaba, he began to chant.

So at this point he bowed down to the ground, out in the open, and started to pray in front of the cruel guards. They quickly came to see what was happening and were angry that he dared to do such a thing. The story continues:

 Le pied du gardien-chef vint le frapper aux reins et l’envoya la tête en avant dans le double réseau des barbelés. Il y entra jusqu’aux hanches ; de ses épaules, de son dos, de ses flancs, des gouttes de sang perlèrent.

(English translation) The head warden's foot struck him in the kidneys and sent him headfirst into the double network of barbed wire. He was in up to his hips; drops of blood trickled from his shoulders, his back, his sides.

He had been willing to suffer immensely simply for the chance to express his faith in God. After pulling himself out of the barbed wire, bleeding everywhere, he did the unthinkable: he started to pray again. Again, the guard violently sent him into the fence. After removing himself once more from the barbed wire, this old man, now bleeding and in terrible pain, started to pray a third time with his forehead on the ground. This time the guard stood on Fa Keïta’s neck and mocked him, but then he became uninterested and sent them all back inside. Fa Keïta survived and soon thereafter the strike was ended and the prisoners unjustly detained were sent back home. Later this old man gathered some of the people together and warned them against what could have easily filled his soul: hatred and revenge. He said this:

Mais faire qu’un homme n’ose pas vous gifler parce que de votre bouche sort la vérité, faire que vous ne puissiez plus être arrêté parce que vous demandez à vivre, faire que tout cela cesse ici ou ailleurs, voilà quelle doit être votre occupation, voilà ce que vous devez expliquez aux autres afin que vous n’ayez plus à plier devant quelqu’un, mais aussi que personne n’ait à plier devant vous. C’est pour vous dire cela que je vous ai demandé de venir car il ne faut pas que la haine vous habite.     

(English translation) But to make sure that a man does not dare to slap you because the truth comes out of your mouth, to make sure that you can no longer be arrested because you ask to live, to make all this stop here or elsewhere, that must be your occupation, that is what you must explain to others so that you no longer have to bend to anyone, but also that no one has to bend to you. It is to tell you this that I asked you to come because you must not let hatred inhabit you.

I thought this was a powerful end to the story and an important message for us, especially in our day: we can stand up for what is good and right without letting hatred fill us. We must not let our actions be motivated by anger, even when we have been terribly wronged as was this man. We can suffer for our faith in God, choosing not to turn against others who reject or mock or hurt us. This is what the Savior taught us in the Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you…. I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you” (Matthew 5:11-12, 44). As disciples of the Savior, we must learn to reject hatred and accept the suffering that may come from oppression and evil. Like He did perfectly, we can learn to love in the face of cursing and hatred and persecution, remembering Him who forgave even as He was being killed. And the character of Fa Keïta reminds us that we can always express our faith in God—even in the face of danger—and that we must never let hatred inhabit us.