It is thirteen years since Kate and I rolled into Es Castell, she arriving a week or two after me, on her birthday, which we celebrated with a meal at the now-defunct Bar Espaňa.  We felt at home on this island very quickly, largely in part to the kindness of those around us - mostly strangers at the time.  After more than a decade I would still hold the kindness of the people of Menorca, whether native, or Spanish, or from elsewhere, as one of the hallmarks of this lovely island, whose character is also marked by tranquility. 

Outside the environs of Menorca, I am not sure that kindness is held in high regard.  Over the past two decades the world seems to have become more self-absorbed, more preoccupied with individualism, more inclined to favour austerity in social care, harder of heart - in general, less kind.  There are, of course, exceptions, as with any generalisation.  But for those who read the tabloid newspapers, or indulge in the darker realms of social media, kindness almost seems to have become regarded as a sort of weakness.  

The sentiment that ‘the measure of a civilisation is how it treats its weakest members,’ is often misattributed to Mahatma Gandhi, although its origins are rather obscure.  Pearl Buck, in My Several Worlds (1954), wrote: ‘The test of a civilisation is the way that it cares for its helpless members.’  Hubert Humphrey in 1976 said something similar and Nelson Mandela, in Long Walk to Freedom (1994), wrote: ‘A nation should not be judged by how it treats its highest citizens, but its lowest ones.’ 

Regardless of its origin, the authority of this quote does not rest in its attachment to a famous figure, but in the ethical standard it articulates.  It does emphasise that a society’s greatness is judged by the dignity it grants to its most vulnerable individuals, rather than the achievements of its elite.  So a good thing to ask of ourselves, as members of communities, nations, or modern society in general, would be to question how much we model, encourage and empower kindness as a high value rather than a weakness. 

There are many songs about kindness - so many that for once I am not sure that I can get away with quoting just one!  Sandra McCracken, an American singer-songwriter, in her song, ‘Kindness,’ sings, ‘Your kindness, how it carries me; you make my heart expand into the open space within.’  Kindness towards others can lift and sustain them in ways that we may never truly realise or understand.  Newcomers to Menorca, for example, like us thirteen years ago, can indeed be uplifted and supported - and find themselves drawn to be kind to others in turn.  Kindness can be contagious. 

Ryan Adams sings, ‘Kindness don’t ask for much, but an open mind.’  And, ‘Are you feeling kind?  Do you believe in love?’  The antidote to the cynical and disdainful attitude towards kindness can indeed be dispelled by an open mind that approaches other human beings with respect and dignity rather than suspicion and judgement, and sees kindness as an important aspect of the biblical imperative to love our neighbour as we love ourselves. 

Selena Gomez, in ‘Kill ‘Em With Kindness,’ sings: ‘We don't have to fall from grace.  Put down the weapons you fight with and kill 'em with kindness.’  And, ‘Your lies are bullets; Your mouth's a gun; And no war in anger was ever won.  Put out the fire before igniting, next time you're fighting, kill 'em with kindness.’  She may have been channelling the biblical book of Proverbs: ‘If your enemies are hungry, give them bread to eat; and if they are thirsty, give them water to drink; for you will heap coals of fire on their heads, and the Lord will reward you.’  In fact, this is a song with a powerful message.  It reminds us that there are many forms of violence (‘your lies are bullets’).  And violence seldom has the final word in any war, which reiterates a familiar theme, namely that since almost all forms of violent conflict end up at some sort of negotiating table, why is it so difficult to go there in the first place?  Negotiation, whether between nations, or within unhappy families, tends to be kinder to those who do not have to suffer prolonged conflict and the suffering that inevitably results. 

Leonard Cohen was apparently known to quote Pierre Carlet de Chamblain de Marivaux, an eighteenth century dramatist and novelist, who wrote, ‘In this world, you have to be a bit too kind in order to be kind enough.’  The implication being that we often underestimate how kind we need to be to others, and how kind we are actually capable of being to others.  Whether or not he realised it, he was channelling Jesus, who as part of the sermon on the mount told his followers, ‘If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.’  

I suspect that fewer and fewer people realise the origins of much of the socio-economic structure of the modern world, and its ethical and moral underpinnings.  They are in fact rooted in values that either originated in, or have been filtered through the teaching of the Bible in general and the gospels in particular, which might well be summarised as scriptures of kindness.  I am thankful that, by and large, Menorca is a place where kindness can still be shared and appreciated. 

Perhaps the last word belongs to J.M Barrie: ‘Always be a little kinder than necessary.’