No to hero worship
Early last week, a viral clip of the Dalai Lama asking a boy to “suck his tongue” sparked public outrage. Many expressed disappointment that a person they had always looked up to turned out to be “just another wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
Several Tibetans came forward to defend their leader and provided much-needed context. Jigme Ugen, a second-generation Tibetan refugee, explained via YouTube a custom wherein grandparents give small children a kiss and a small candy from their mouth. Afterward, they playfully say “che le sa” or “eat my tongue” to show that they have nothing left to offer the child except for their tongue. On April 13, the news agency Voice of Tibet released a video interview with the Indian boy and his mother, which was filmed moments after the encounter. The child seemed genuinely happy, sharing that meeting the Dalai Lama was an “amazing experience.”
As new information has come to light, I believe that the intent behind the act, though I still find it inappropriate, was not malicious. What it does bring to the fore is an issue that, if left unchecked, could be quite problematic: a culture of hero worship.
The world has always celebrated individuals for their perceived greatness, and our inherent desire for inspiration draws us to people who represent the pinnacle of human achievement in their field. There are times, however, when we could go overboard with our admiration. Hero worship refers to elevating individuals to the point of imbuing them with god-like qualities or celebrating them as living saints.
When we expect complex and flawed human beings to be infallible, we set them up for failure, and ourselves, for disappointment. We make them a paragon of virtue and strip them of their humanity, but then we’re also quick to pillory them when they fall short of our expectations. It’s almost as if we’ve just been waiting for proof that they were too good to be true—even if we were the ones who built the pedestal in the first place.
All throughout history, we’ve witnessed countless heroes fall from grace: either time had eventually revealed their moral weakness and they found themselves suddenly vilified for a bad decision (or two), or closer scrutiny of their supposed faultless past had unearthed questionable behavior. Another reason is that someone who is hero-worshipped is often shielded, whether intentionally or as an unintended consequence, from important criticism and genuine feedback. When a person’s actions and decisions are never questioned, it warps one’s experience and understanding of reality. That intoxicating mix of unbridled power and yes-men culture makes it too easy to be misguided, or worse, to start acting with little regard for consequences and principles.
Filipinos, for the most part, still display high deference to authority. Combined with a propensity for hero worship, it makes certain people incredibly vulnerable to groupthink, which in turn, encourages impunity among our leaders and heroes. I remember one story a foreign priest had shared with me. He was learning how to speak Filipino and started giving his sermons in the vernacular. Since he had not mastered the language yet, he kept asking the people he worked with to give him feedback. Even after incentivizing comments with a small prize, no one dared to point out to him the grammatical mistakes in his homily. If people are unable to correct someone they look up to for the most mundane of errors, how do we expect them to do so with respect to matters of significance?
Acknowledging the complexities of human nature does not mean that expecting basic values from our heroes and leaders is now negotiable. Rather, it’s reminding ourselves that being virtuous or displaying moral bravery does not equate to a person being infallible; and that we can admire someone’s contributions but still see their shortcomings from a critical and objective lens. By always striving for a more nuanced approach, we avoid the trap of deifying (or hastily demonizing) anyone.
I hope that the people surrounding the Dalai Lama had not spared him from an important lesson to be learned from last week’s incident. As playful as his intentions may have been, a child who is not familiar with the custom could have felt violated. And as a global leader who is constantly dealing with people from different cultures, one has the responsibility to be aware and considerate of the context of his audience.
In a 2015 feature for The New York Times, author Pankaj Mishra shared how the Dalai Lama would always bring up in his public appearances that he is just an ordinary man. “I am a human being like any other,” he would often tell the crowd.
Perhaps it’s time we all listen.
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