Prologue to Groundless Hatred:
Sinat hinam, or "groundless hatred", is a traditional Jewish notion of a particular kind of hatred, the hatred of one's own kind, and the consequences of that hatred, the destruction of the Second Temple. Of course the Temple was not merely just another place of worship but was the central seat of the supreme being and stood for the Jewish political state as well. The Jews maintained their spiritual unity but lost their political state for two thousand years. The story has been told time and time again; no doubt some author will get another Pulitzer Prize for its retelling. As for Sinat hinam, the label is Jewish but the underlying concept is common to the human race. For instance, most of us are familiar with the platitude, "United we stand, divided we fall," and we know only too well the rancorous feeling that causes divisiveness in our ranks. As interdependent social creatures, we are familiar with familial feelings, 'group love', and 'herd mentality', especially when we are in danger.
Now all too often the love of one community is grounded in its hatred of another community, hence it is hate-based love. The hatred of the 'enemy' may or may not have relatively 'just' causes or 'objective' grounds; we suspect the special forms of hatred are garden varieties of generic or pure hatred. If we are to give credence to the analysis of certain psychoanalysts, love is originally generated by hate, thus conflict is the father of all good things, although the individual would rather return to the womb from which he fell from grace. The omnipotent infant encounters resistance, is enraged, hates the object encountered, discovers the object has a will of its own, fears retaliation from it, and learns to love. Needless to say, the first compromises or bonds are made with those objects most near, usually the mother and the father. The resulting 'person' is the 'contract' drawn between the rebellious individual will and the wills of others.
If placing hate before love in our psychobabble is unpalatable, we can always consider the prior, god-like omnipotence of the infant as an instance of absolute self-love without barriers, and in that vein we might agree with the romantic mystic, that, "Love is your life." Or we might agree with the reasonable philosophers, that existence wants nothing more than to endure forever. Moreover, we might conjecture that hatred's ground is absolute freedom impeded. Alas for absolute freedom, its kingdom cannot be realized on Earth where our rights are hard-won, where freedoms are relative: relative freedom is always freedom from something or the other; absolute freedom or freedom from everything is Nothing. Then what in the world is 'groundless' hatred? Is it not the 'pure hatred' of any resistance at all? or, if you prefer, the 'pure love' of absolute freedom? The rabbis beg to differ with that abstract, impractical definition. As I have pointed out, 'groundless hatred' or sinat hinam is a particular kind of hatred; in the Jewish instance, the consequence is associated with a particular historical event, the destruction of the Second Temple and the loss of the Promised Land. So hopeless did the natural situation seem that apocalyptic Jews hoped for a supernatural messiah; whereas an anointed high priest or a scion of the House of David used to suffice, now only a miraculous, manly appearance of god on Earth would do.
In any event, hatred of one's own kind will destroy the social grounds of love. As a result, the real estate or physical basis for material wealth will be lost, the high place will be made low, starving mothers will eat their own children, those who do not flee will be slaughtered or enslaved, and so on. Therefore the internal differences caused by mutual negation must be set aside; the stabbing of suspected collaborators must cease; even the worst crimes must be forgiven to achieve the higher end, in order to obtain unity in mutual love; and by that means the community, confronted by its enemy, may endure to the end time and even beyond.
Yes, all must be forgiven of one's own kind; after all, if we are to progress as a community, we must begin somewhere, and there is no place like home. Wherefore we trace the meaning of the term 'forgive' back to 'let go', and we think of opening the hand to release the weapon or to share the food; although we would define 'forgive' and 'forget' differently, the terms have the same root. Still, we are reluctant to let go of our memory, the ground of human reason and progress. Indeed, teachers instruct us not to forget - the motto of my own clan is, 'Never Forget.' The rabbis tell the Jews not only to remember but to relive, and this traditional reliving has preserved their community. Yet on the other hand, we are to forgive. Christians are even to forgive their worst enemies. What is this 'forgiveness' that falls so easily from the lips of preachers as if it is quite a simple matter to forgive if only one makes up one's mind to do so? It may seem like a simple concept, but if we conduct an inquiry we shall discover that most people are uncertain of its precise meaning, and those who are sure seldom agree and often try to impose their definitions on each other.
But why should we suppose that forgiveness is the mother of progress? Are not our differences grounds for hatred to be destroyed only by war, the father of all things? Then heaven forbid that all humans be of one race, the human race, sharing all good things equally, with no grounds for hatred. Only in mass annihilation are all people rendered equal. We shall all die anyway, so why not die now to make big our differences? Why bother with the gradual sublimation of base motives when we can experience the awful romance of the Sublime in the grotesque horrors of war? The answer is in our recoil from self-destruction. Forgiveness comes to mind. Of course forgiveness may not be the panacea we hope for: hating evil is good; forgiving crime may encourage crime, therefore there is a time to hate; new grounds instead of old wounds can always be found for hating others; people may love to hate without any grounds at all. Nevertheless, experience informs us that forgiveness does some good all around: it makes the world a kinder place to live in. Perhaps if we have a better understanding of forgiveness, we can neutralize groundless hatred with loving kindness.
Didn't you realize that you were God's Temple and the Spirit of God was living among you? If anybody would destroy the Temple of God, God will destroy him, because the Temple of God is sacred and you are that Temple. -Paul-