Love Is Goodness
Literary Non-fiction Inspired by Nietzsche
The Second Story
Shariq Ali
Valueversity
A long, salt-and-pepper beard, a furrowed brow, a white kurta and pyjama trousers ending above the ankles. This was our religious studies teacher in the fifth grade. One day, after describing the terrifying spectacle of people burning in hell for neglecting their prayers and other acts of worship, he gave us some classwork and sat quietly marking our exercise books.
My friend Sohail whispered, “Will God burn us children in the fire?” I whispered back, “My mother says God loves us. The way parents love their children. How could He possibly burn us?”
The teacher heard our whispers.
“Without fear, there can be no goodness,” he said.
I, an eleven-year-old child in the fifth grade, stood my ground and repeated the lesson my mother had taught me: “Sir, love is true goodness.”
That day, I received a severe beating.
Even now, I remember the peace in my heart and my complete absence of fear as I was being beaten.
“Sir, love is true goodness.”
In that moment of fearlessness, my relationship with God took root in love.
Years later, when I read the metaphor of the lion in Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra, I remembered that religious studies class.
In the first story, we explored Nietzsche’s metaphor of the camel: the strength that shoulders responsibilities, works hard and learns to carry its burdens. But a moment also comes in our inner lives when we examine the burdens we carry. Have I accepted this responsibility through my own understanding and free choice? Do I have the right to question it?
For Nietzsche, the lion represents this quest for freedom. Before it stands a dragon that declares, “Thou shalt.” Against it, the lion asserts its right to will and choose for itself. It is unwilling to accept every command simply because it is old or has been spoken by a voice of authority.
The lion is not yet creating new values. It is winning the freedom to do so. It is making room to think, to examine and to arrive at its own answers.
Nietzsche’s philosophy extends far beyond this childhood memory of mine. Yet a child’s insistence on testing what he has been told against his own understanding seems to me to echo this metaphor.
The courage of Nietzsche’s lion lies not only in rejecting the commands of others, but also in questioning values it once held sacred. This struggle for freedom therefore takes place within us, too. To examine a belief we have grown accustomed to accepting, and to relinquish it when necessary, also takes courage.
Speaking our mind is not easy, especially when we face power and authority and must pay a price for disagreeing.
The metaphor of the lion recalls that moment when, despite the cost, a person gives voice to the question rising within.
Winning freedom is not the final stage of the journey. What kind of life do we build with that freedom? Which values do we thoughtfully embrace, and what new things do we create?
In the next story, we will turn to Nietzsche’s metaphor of the child: to that new beginning in which we use our newfound freedom to give life a creative purpose.