“On the contrary. Nothing makes us believe more than fear, the certainty of being threatened. When we feel like victims, all our actions and beliefs are legitimized, however questionable they may be. Our opponents, or simply our neighbors, stop sharing common ground with us and become our enemies. We stop being aggressors and become defenders. The envy, greed, or resentment that motivates us becomes sanctified, because we tell ourselves we’re acting in self-defense. Evil, menace—those are always the preserve of the other. The first step for believing passionately is fear. Fear of losing our identity, our life, our status, or our beliefs. Fear is the gunpowder and hatred is the fuse. Dogma, the final ingredient, is only a lighted match. That is where I think your work has a hole or two.”
“Please clarify one thing. Are you looking for a faith or a dogma?”
“It’s not enough that people should believe. They must believe what we want them to believe. And they must not question it or listen to the voice of whoever questions it. Dogma must form part of identity itself. Whoever questions it is our enemy. He is evil. And it is our right and our duty to confront and destroy him. It is the only road to salvation. Believe in order to survive.”
I sighed and looked away, nodding reluctantly.
“You don’t look convinced, Martín. Tell me what you’re thinking. Do you think I’m mistaken?”
“I don’t know. I think you are simplifying things in a dangerous way. Your whole speech sounds like a stratagem for generating and channeling hatred.”
“The adjective you were going to use was not dangerous but repugnant, but I won’t hold that against you.”
“Why should we reduce faith to an act of rejection and blind obedience? Is it not possible to believe in values of acceptance, of harmony?”
The boss smiled. He was enjoying himself.
“It is possible to believe in anything, Martín, be it the free market or even the tooth fairy. We can even believe that we don’t believe in anything, as you do, which is the greatest credulity of them all. Am I right?”
“The customer is always right. What is the other hole you see in the story?”
“I miss having a villain. Whether we realize it or not, most of us define ourselves by opposing rather than by favoring something or someone. To put it another way, it is easier to react than to act. Nothing arouses a passion for dogma more than a good antagonist. And the more unlikely the better.”
“I thought that role would work better in the abstract. The antagonist would be the nonbeliever, the alien, the one outside the group.”
“Yes, but I’d like you to be more specific. It’s difficult to hate an idea. That requires a certain intellectual discipline and a slightly obsessive, sick mind. There aren’t too many of those. It’s much easier to hate someone with a recognizable face whom we can blame for everything that makes us feel uncomfortable. It doesn’t have to be an individual character. It could be a nation, a race, a group … anything.”
The boss’s flawless cynicism could get the better even of me. I gave a despondent sigh.
“Don’t pretend to be a model citizen now, Martín. It’s all the same to you, and we need a villain in this vaudeville. You should know that better than anyone. There is no drama without a conflict.”
“What sort of villain would you like? A tyrant invader? A false prophet? The bogeyman?”
“I’ll leave the outfit to you. Any of the usual suspects suits me. One of the functions of our villain must be to allow us to adopt the role of the victim and claim our moral superiority. We project onto him all those things we are incapable of recognizing in ourselves, things we demonize according to our particular interests. It’s the basic arithmetic of the Pharisees. I keep telling you, you need to read the Bible. All the answers you’re looking for are in there.”
“I’m on the case.”
“All you have to do is convince the san
ctimonious that they are free of all sin and they’ll start throwing stones, or bombs, with gusto. In fact, it doesn’t take much, because they can be convinced with the bare minimum of encouragement and excuses. I don’t know whether I’m making myself clear.”
“You are making yourself abundantly clear. Your arguments have the subtlety of a blast furnace.”
“I’m not sure I like that condescending tone, Martín. Does this mean you think this project isn’t on a par with your moral or intellectual purity?”
“Not at all,” I mumbled faintheartedly.
“What is it, then? Something tickling your conscience, dear friend?”
“The usual thing. I’m not sure I’m the nihilist you need.”
“Nobody is. Nihilism is an attitude, not a doctrine. Place the flame from a candle under the testicles of a nihilist and notice how quickly he sees the light of existence. Something else is bothering you.”
I raised my head and summoned up the most defiant manner I was capable of.
“Perhaps what’s bothering me is that I understand everything you say, but I don’t feel it.”
“Do I pay you to have feelings?”