Moral outrage, according to Batson et al, is defined as “anger provoked by the perception that a moral standard—usually a standard of fairness or justice—has been violated”. Talk about understatement. But let's work with it. For me, the active element in this definition is ‘anger’. When we encounter something that violates the basic notion of fairness or justice, we are provoked to a response.

This response is not disappointment, or sadness. It isn’t hopelessness or despair, and it certainly isn’t passive acceptance. It is anger. Anger is a strong reaction that boils the blood and raises blood pressure. It elevates the heart rate, pumps adrenaline through the veins in readiness for a response, and prepares the body for action. It focuses the mind on that which has been violated and what needs to be done.

Dare I say it, we are not nearly outraged enough, not by a long straw. There is a genocide underway in Gaza. It is estimated that more than 60 000 people have died since the Israeli onslaught in 2023, many of whom are presumed dead

under the rubble of what used to be their homes. I was relieved when the ceasefire deal, for what it’s worth, was announced in January this year. It offered respite and a chance for people to return to their homes. I can only imagine the relief of nights without warning sirens, without ear-shattering explosions and the devastation that mornings would bring.

It was a chance I’m sure to reconnect with family, to mourn those who died and remember them, and to start rebuilding lives. And then the Israeli government tore up the ceasefire agreement and sent its aircraft to bomb Gaza. Four hundred and four (404) Palestinians, many of them children, were killed on Tuesday 18 March in air strikes that targeted built-up neighbourhoods, makeshift schools and residential buildings.

Moral outrage cannot be reduced to indignation, or disapproval, or platitudes, or sympathy. It is anger, it is rage against the violation of standards of human decency, of justice. It starts in our chests, in our core, and moves us to a different state. It doesn’t allow silence or inaction - it compels us to be active.

My friend Peter-John, a Catholic priest, was targeted for harassment by police during a protest against a conference on Zionism at the SA Jewish Board of Deputies headquarters in Cape Town. In his words to me: ‘I stood my ground and refused to be bullied. The worrying thing was that out of a pavement full of people they targeted me and me alone.

A little bruised on the body but undaunted. The assault on the people of Gaza cannot leave us unaffected and unmoved. To be neutral in the midst of such barbarism would be tantamount to a denial of our own humanity. Moral outrage allows us a chance to reclaim and defend our humanity by refusing to accept

these violations of fairness and justice. We must channel our anger into solidarity and resistance. Let’s get active – boycott the biggest supporters of Israel, join the protests, find places where we can offer support to Palestine. Don’t avoid the conversations about genocide in our social circles – have the difficult conversations. And make sure that moral outrage is felt wherever we are. I promise you that your solidarity will count and help the people of Palestine remain undaunted.

anger

Green Shoots: We are not outraged enough