Painful Truths

Self-indulgence and pre-menstrual tension

At the risk of being labelled a misogynist, I shall say what I think, no matter how painful or objectionable to some that may be.

However, I'd like to state very clearly at the outset that I am not a misogynist by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, if I am to be labelled "anti" anything in this connection, then I opt for misandrist  rather than misogynist.

I have a big problem in trying to come to terms with the self-indulgence of native British women when it comes to the temporary insanity they undergo each month during pre-menstrual tension (PMT). 

According to a British medical organization, more than 100 symptoms have been associated with PMT. These include:

• anxiety
• mood swings
• irritability and 
• aggression.

Of course, one cannot blame others for what is beyond their control. However, my cross-cultural experience impels me to question whether the above-mentioned symptoms necessarily have to manifest themselves behaviourally. The logic behind this assertion is very simple: if a woman knows approximately when her period is due and, therefore, when she is likely to experience the symptoms of PMT, then she can suppress the outward manifestations of this syndrome, such as irritability and aggression.  

It may surprise some to learn that the first time I had come across the concept of PMT was in Britain. Throughout my entire life in my own country, I had never heard of PMT, nor had I ever witnessed women outwardly exhibiting the symptoms of this syndrome. 

There is only one conclusion that I can draw from this. Women who become irritable and aggressive during PMT are quite simply self-indulgent. They use PMT as a licence for otherwise unacceptable and inexcusable behaviour. 

Women who misbehave during PMT expect others to put up with their appalling behaviour just because they are on PMT. Unfortunately, British society has come to terms with this and, by and large, men are expected to put up with this monthly feminine psychopathic disorder.

Consequently, millions of people – husbands, boyfriends, brothers, fathers, children – suffer horribly each month because a mother or an adult sister or daughter has given herself licence to behave obnoxiously on the grounds that she has PMT.

I don't accept this and I am perplexed that anyone else does. Would, for instance, the state make an excuse for a woman verbally or physically assaulting a police officer just because she has PMT?

Swan rescue

I had a rather unpleasant experience while driving to work this morning, one that triggered a whole host of thoughts in my mind.

Shortly after setting off from home, a couple of swans landed in the middle of the road, about 150 metres ahead of me. One of the swans was run over by a car that was accelerating at what seemed to be an extraordinary speed. The swan collided with the car’s front bumper, passed under its chassis and emerged from under the boot. Although the swan narrowly missed being crushed under the wheels, it was nonetheless badly injured, with one of its legs visibly crushed.

I stopped as soon as I could and called the police emergency number. I waited for the police to arrive and hoped that my parked car, half of which was on the narrow pavement and the other half on the carriage way, would slow down the traffic and shield the injured swan from the speeding cars.

I don’t know much about swans but one thing that I do know is that they have life-long mates. Indeed, the injured swan’s mate stayed with its friend in the middle of the road for several long minutes, despite the numerous cars that were impatiently circumventing them to the left and the right. It’s heart-breaking enough to witness any helpless, injured animal suffering, but to see the hurt bird and its mate standing by it in the middle of the road in spite of all the danger and the terror of the passing vehicles was heart-wrenching.

However, it certainly wasn’t heart-wrenching enough for the vast majority of motorists on that road this morning. First of all, the driver whose car had run over the swan did not stop – on the contrary, he or she sped off even faster. That driver must have known that he/she had run over the swan, and he/she must have seen it in the rear-view mirror, injured but not dead with its mate standing by it. Nonetheless, he/she did not stop. If what goes around really comes around, then maybe one day that driver will suffer a terrible accident and no one will stop to help him/her.

The second thought to come to my mind was how primitive and low human nature is. I am referring here to all the subhumans who terrified the injured swan and its mate by speeding to the left and to the right of them without a care in the world. May they all get their comeuppance some day soon. There was, however, one exception. A kind gentleman  stopped by and tried to help by calling a special swan helpline number. He stayed with me until the police arrived.

Finally, my thoughts turned inevitably to my own people. Here I was, an Arab in the midst of “humane”, “civilized” and “animal-loving” Britain, coming to the rescue of an injured swan and cursing those who couldn’t give a damn. How would people in my own country react under similar circumstances? I ask myself. 

Sadly, the answer is that they would not react at all. For the vast majority of them, it would be a non-event; it wouldn’t even register on their radar screens, so to speak. In fact, most would laugh at me for even caring! The painful truth is that, in my part of the world, compassion, whether for animals or humans, is a rare commodity indeed. Strange, you might think, for people who utter the name of "God, the Merciful, the Compassionate" dozens of times each day.

When I got home later in the evening I accidentally dialled the emergency number of the regional swan rescue centre while adding the number to my mobile phone contacts. I discovered that the swan had been euthanased – it's leg had been so badly crushed that the centre decided it would be more humane to put it down.

The British syndrome

There is something odd and, I would say, rather offensive about one particular trait of the native Britons. That is, with few exceptions, they find it painfully difficult to greet other people, be they neighbours, "friends" or colleagues.

The other day an aquaintance of ours telephoned and asked for my wife. I didn't instantly recognize her voice but she knew who I was. It was a straightforward request to speak to my wife. "Hello," she said. "May I speak to [name]?" I asked her who she was and she replied with her name in a matter-of-fact way, as if I had never met her before. Not being British, I greeted her and enquired about her health, then I called my wife to come and speak to her.

In case you wonder, there is no personal animosity between me and the woman in question. Nor is her coldness racially motivated. On the contrary, she is as far removed from racism as anyone can be.

In fact, the native Britons rarely ever greet or acknowlege each other's existance. Take, for example, the case of a colleague at my work. He is a well-educated, highly competent man in his late 40s or early 50s. But he would go to great lengths to avoid greeting anyone, irrespective of race, colour or creed. For instance, if he notices another colleague walking towards him, he would swerve sharply so that he would not come face to face and, God forbid, have to say hello or nod in acknowldgement of that other person's existence. And, if one should share a table with him at the Staff Restaurant, he would sit in complete silence, unless spoken to, and then he would give the shortest possible answers.

It's the same story with neighbours. With few exceptions, one can spend many years without knowing one's neighbours. In our street, apart from one Englishwoman, the politest and friendliest people are either foreign or of non-English origin. The remainder vary in degrees of coldness or indifference, from the outright rude (an uncouth middle-aged yob who reminds me of one of our senior "managers"), to the superficially polite (you can see the pain on their faces as they struggle to say or wave hello), to the automatons who inhabit a twilight zone separating humans and machines (and not very good machines at that).

This asocial trait – let's call it "the British syndrome" – extends to families as well. For example, it's quite common to observe family members who have been apart for years ignore one another completely upon reuniting and not exchange a word – no hugs, kisses, handshakes or even hellos – and when they do finally speak it would be as if they had just parted for a day or so: "You're alright?" or "How's it been?" I have seen it with friends of mine and observed it with strangers alike. It's unbelievably weird and I don't think it can be found anywhere but in the British wilderness.

So, what is it about the native Britons that makes them so asocial? How did the British syndrome come about?

I have thought about this for many years but I still have no answer. It's clearly a fundamental part of their culture, a defining aspect of "Britishness" into which every native Briton is socialized and passes on from generation to generation.

There are, of course, exceptions but there will always be exceptions to everything. I suppose these exceptions are the non-conformists; in the British context, they are the social "deviants", the people who – dare I say it – say "hello", "good morning" and "good evening" when they encounter other humans.

Compassion

Compassion is a most admirable human quality. It is a mark of civilization and a defining feature of a humane society.

Sadly, it is absent from much of the world. Last Thursday, 10 January, I heard on the news that the British authorities had deported a terminally ill woman because her student visa had expired. The woman, a Ghanaian called Ama Sumani, was suffering from cancer and had been receiving kidney dialysis treatment, which she needed three times a week.

Mrs Sumani's deportation was an outrageous act of barbarity, matched only by what was awaiting her back home.

Upon arrival in Ghana, she was taken to hospital in the capital, Accra, in order receive her dialysis treatment. However, the hospital refused to treat her, insisting that she must pay in advance the full cost of treatment for six months, which amounted to 6000 USD, or 3060 GBP. Although the British immigration officials who accompanied her from the UK offered to pay for three months' treatment, the Ghanaians refused to settle for anything less than six months' payment.

Driving home, I heard on the radio a senior manager at the Accra hospital confirm that position without even a hint of shame, and acknowledge the fact that, without the dialysis, the woman would die soon (BBC Radio 4, 6 p.m. news, 11 January 2008). So, to him and his ilk, life is all about money; if you don't have money, you're not worth living.

This is just one, well-publicized example to illustrate that, even in this day and age, compassion is a rare commodity indeed, whether you're in the First or Third World.

But there is a crucial difference between these two increasingly distant worlds. That is the existence of a vibrant and free media. Thus, whereas in the First World instances of inhumanity and lack of compassion, whether in Europe, Africa, occupied Palestine or occupied Iraq, are soon brought to the attention of the public by the media, in most of the Third World they go unmentioned by a media that is in shackles and often does not even see lack of compassion as an issue.

Even more fundamental is the level of awareness and understanding of compassion in much of the Third World. In my own country, for example, we speak a lot about compassion, often citing the high value placed on it in the Koran. But at least in that spot of the Arab world, compassion is most conspicuous by its absence. As with the Ghanaian scoundrels who refused to treat Ama Sumani, it is dwarfed by materialism, greed and hypocrisy.

It is hard to know where to begin when trying to instill compassion in these circumstances. But, as far as I am concerned, one thing is sure, and that is the need to start at the grassroots and to understand that compassion is universal, indivisible and applies equally to all living creatures, humans and animals.