Vegetarianism, to me, is more than a specialised diet; it embodies a
philosophy which is primarily Buddhist, but which is also,
peculiarly, Christian. In it, the Buddhist idea of total unity of
all mankind - of all life - is combined with the Christian idea of
undivided caring. But this unity, this indivisible love, has little
to do with the separative sentiments of some vegetarians who forget
that ends can never justify means and are willing to adopt
aggressive means (such as "verbally attack meat-eaters and ask them
to justify their own behaviour") in an attempt to achieve
vegetarianism as "practised on a large-scale in the foreseeable
future".
The recent letter to which I refer expressed much of the
self-righteousness which I have found so disconcerting in all
organised religions. I do not doubt the writer's sincerity in
feeling "that it is wrong and needless to kill animals for food",
just as I do not doubt that the early Christian disciples were
completely sincere. But sincerity is subjective and must always be
fallible; and anger and "continual determination" show promising
signs of degenerating into dogmatism, just as the Christian ideal
degenerated into the activities of the Inquisition.
We cannot be sure we are right. Vegetarianism may seem completely
justifiable, but in fact it is alive with inconsistencies -
inconsistencies which it is surely our responsibility to minimise,
rather than create. For by making vegetarianism into a
quasi-religion, by assuming the right to judge the actions of other
people - we are narrowing ourselves, and negating the underlying
ideals of unity and love. I can imagine too clearly, what would
happen if large-scale vegetarianism were practiced without a renewal
of our attitudes: the suffering of animals in the slaughterhouse
would decrease considerably - but would the animals be free to roam
the countryside, as is their right as living creatures on this
planet? With a step-up in plant production for food, man would
grossly abuse and over-work the land; and presuming animals were by
then free from exploitation - not only for food, but for clothing
and derivatives, such as milk, skins, oils, - they would constitute
a threat to man's food supply and would become "pests" - in much the
same way as rabbits and some birds are regarded now. We may end up
by reverting to "mercy" killings - as we cull the seals, off the
Hebridean shores - to prevent them from dying of starvation, and
because we need all the plant food to feed the human race.
Let us remember that we are fallible; let us open our eyes to the
harm we may be doing by our arrogance; and let us listen to
Professor Bronowski, who warns of the outcome of dogma and pride:
"There are two parts to the human dilemma. One is the belief that
the end justifies the means. That push-button philosophy, that
deliberate deafness to suffering, has become the monster in the war
machine. The other is the betrayal of the human spirit: the
assertion of dogma that closes the mind. . . We have to close the
distance between the push-button order and the human act. We have to
touch people."
It is our attitudes that matter, because these determine - and go
on to develop - our actions - our actions, towards consistency. We
cannot afford the narrowness of approach, the inevitable compromise
of sincerity, that I feel would be the outcome of "conversions" of
the kind Mr. Quayle advocates. A complete revolution in man's
attitude towards other life forms - as well as his own - is
unlikely, particularly in the foreseeable future. But any real
approach towards it will take a long time, and will be immeasurably
more valuable than large numbers of vegetarians, angry and
frustrated, in opposition to the remainder of mankind.
Angela Sellens
The Vegetarian
(June 1974).