Could it be ... - Thought Leader

In a strictly hierarchical culture, the name of the game is follow the leader.

Irrespective of how he/she/it became the leader, by fair means or foul, hierarchies are premised on the unshakeable belief and unquestioning acceptance that “the leader” embodies the best of that culture or society.

Baboon troops, whether the vast hairy hordes of Geladas in the high mountains of Ethiopia or the leatherneck bands of hooligans here in South Africa, have a clearly defined and rigidly enforced hierarchy, and the entire society can be shattered by leadership battles. Though usually short, the worst casualties are the most vulnerable — the youngest and the weakest.

The same pattern follows in other hierarchical social structures — African wild dogs, lions, antelope and even elephants. The higher up the evolutionary ladder you go, the more you see the familiar pyramidal structure.

Until you get to us, Homo sapiens sapiens, the thinking ape.

Since our ancient common ancestors slept and talked and procreated in the caves at Maropeng before walking out eventually to populate the entire planet, hierarchies have sustained the fabric of social structure. They provided security, food and purpose. They simplified choices. They solved mysteries and allayed fears. And, critically important, hierarchies ensured survival of the species because leaders, who were usually the strongest and smartest, ensured only the finest vintage genes were passed from generation to generation.

And although crumbled, collapsed or merely endangered today, even that most archetypal social structure, the family, has an ingrained tradition of hierarchy.

It is a sad, but true, irony that the more “sophisticated” a civilisation becomes, the less the ancient hierarchy holds sway. Could this be because we have become more equal, less individually vulnerable and, therefore, less dependent for survival on a top-down social framework? I think so.

But in primitive societies, the chief or king still reigns as alpha dog. And change only came when the alpha dog was challenged and overthrown. Sound familiar.

And it didn’t matter which individual was alpha dog at which time; everybody further down the social ladder who had envious eyes on his (or her) throne copied the king (or queen).

If the king was good and fair and just, the societies were built on wisdom and equity and morality. If the king was a bloodthirsty warmonger, society venerated warriors and generals and conquerors.

That was the case in Rome at the apex of its debauchery. So ingrained had the hierarchy of imprimatur become that the emperor was accepted, idolised, worshipped and given absolute freedom to do whatever his warped mind felt like at the time — to decide who lived and who died with no care but the flick of an imperial wrist. Thus Nero, Caligula and Tiberius were gods.

The mindless mobs lapped it up, and the emperors gave them more — more burning Christians to light the streets, more sacrifices, more slaughter in the gladiatorial arenas. The children in the streets grew up knowing that if they wanted to survive and thrive, they had to act like Caesar or Caesar’s favoured generals.

Egyptian, Greek and Babylonian cultures rose and fell. Viking societies, Mongol empires, the Goths, Vandals and Visigoths, the Saxons, Normans and Persians worked exactly as the Inca and Mayan civilisations did on the other side of the world. North America had its peaceful tribes and its martial ones, as did Papua New Guinea, China, Japan and Africa.

But we are civilised now. Every one is equal in the “eyes” of the law and we have constitutions that enshrine like holy scripture the rights of even the weakest, the most vulnerable and defenceless in society.

Here in South Africa, where it all began two-and-a-half-million years ago, we have one of the finest and most sophisticated constitutions on the planet.

Why, then, are schoolyard arguments settled with a knife or gun? Why are 18 000 people murdered every year, some for nothing more than a few coins, because they were caught in the crossfire, or because they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Why are countless millions maimed, injured, crippled, raped or orphaned just as if they were living in the streets of ancient Rome or Carthage or Byzantium?

Could it be that we have not come quite as far as we would like to think? Could it be that we have not rid ourselves of the shackles of hierarchy? Could it be that the killers and rapists, gangsters and thieves look around, see the top dog at the head of the hierarchy and say: “I wanna be like you-hoo-hoo, walk like you, talk like you …” while the alpha dog himself prances about extolling the virtues of his machine gun in a society in which your social status is measured by the size and make of your chariot and who you know in the Senate?

Could it be that the worst of our society, the social sewage we put in prisons so they won’t hurt us any more, are merely copying the examples of those at the top of the pile?