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The phrase, The stranger in the mirror was the name of a particularly bad novel by the particularly bad novelist Sidney Sheldon — with due apologies to his vast legion of fans. It was also the name of a book about a psychological disorder — disassociation. The title then is to be taken literally. But in a literary context, one of the best examples is in Wilfred Owen’s poem, ‘Strange Meeting’. Like all the poets born on the bloody battlefields of Europe during the First World War, Owen was anti-war, pacifist by experience. ‘Strange Meeting’, once a staple in school textbooks, is about meeting the enemy you have killed. The enemy who is you. As is the stranger in the mirror.

Between Sheldon, Owen and people suffering from disassociation, it is possible to draw a story around the current hullabaloo over ‘migrants’ entering cities, over identity cards being issued, over outsiders who are ruining our lives, not to mention the constant fear we have of people of other ethnicities, castes and religions. Any non-vegetarian who has lived in Gujarat, for instance, knows the discomfort of stigma — and that’s a small, mild example of the fear of someone who is not familiar to us.

This fear of unfamiliarity leads to a creation of myths, which then become a rigid set of beliefs. Once that happens, to break the mould becomes almost impossible. We are secure in our knowledge that others are different and we keep things that way. After some time, we fail to even acknowledge the foolishness of this position. It has also become a way to legitimise our prejudices.

The Indian caste system is one example of this and I can happily confess that I often use my Brahmin origins (in spite of my rejection of the caste system) to annoy the castes just below me and boost the ones at the bottom of the pile. My intentions are mischievous and yet I am astounded by how often it works. To me, each acceptance of my absurd pronouncements is just one more approval,despite the terrible and long-standing divisions caused by caste in this country.

The fear of outsiders, people who are not ‘sons of the soil’, of someone from another colour, race, religion or gender extends to divisions caused by neighbourhood, school, college, club, contract bus, train route and gym. Some sound reasonable, others are ridiculous and yet in their essence they are all the same thing. Fear of the stranger in the mirror: of ourselves in all our various differences. There is a new group of people apparently called ‘vegansexuals’ who will only date other vegans. They cannot be seen in public with people who eat meat. Sounds a bit familiar? It’s called intolerance.

Perhaps the biggest differentiator is class, and this is endemic across all humans. I look down on people who have money and they look down on me because I don’t have any. Neither of us is aware of the silliness of our situation. Rather, we are happy in our respective positions. It could be that if I met people who pursued money as a life choice, to use the current jargon, I might discover that they are actually quite human but it suits me to keep them apart. If nothing else, it gives me something to talk about, make fun of.

Unfortunately, for all the joys of our biases, this way of thinking is unacceptable. Migrants are us, people of other persuasions are us, and to separate or isolate them or ourselves is the sign of the bigot. Which is a hop skip and jump away from being a fascist. The example of Hitler and his dream of Aryan nation bears repetition. He wanted to create a perfect Germany full of blond, blue-eyed people from the right gene pool. His answer was to kill the others. It’s a price the human race is still paying for today.

To talk about tolerance sounds preachy but it’s not. It’s common sense and it is what is right. Now I have to work on my intolerance of the intolerant.

Email:b_ranjona@dnaindia.net