It’s quite easy what you say and do after someone you perceive to be a good person dies. You pass on your condolences by one means or another, you may even attend their funeral. If it’s a famous person and you feel strongly enough, you might post something on social media, expressing your sorrow, hoping they will rest in peace. But what happens when someone you don’t like dies? What to do?
Well, I try not to be a hypocrite, so I might quietly ignore the death or, if I felt under pressure to say something, I might say something like, “my thoughts are with their family and friends”. That avoids the need to lie and say how sorry you are when in truth you aren’t. If it’s someone in the public eye, the same rules generally apply. I’ve felt that way regarding two recent bereavements.
I never liked Ann Widdecombe MP. My feeling was that she led a life of hatred and bigotry of people whose lives she did not understand, driven by her strict adherence to what I felt was an extreme level of belief in religious superstition. But when she was viciously murdered recently in her own home, it was not as if I felt she deserved it. She didn’t deserve to be murdered, regardless of her unpleasant views. We should aim to counter alternative views by way of debate and even argument. That said, I eagerly followed her advice on what to say when someone, in this case Labour leader John Smith, died.
In 1994, John Smith, in my view the greatest prime minister we never had, died suddenly of a heart attack. As usual, there were widespread tributes, including from his political opponents. Widdecombe was not among their number. Instead, she said: “It is absurd to heap praise on him merely because he has died.” I actually agree with that because that is the same way I feel about her. I never had a good word to speak about her when she was alive, so why should I start now?
This week, we lost the right-wing polemicist Rod Liddle. I have no problem following Widdecombe’s lead on his death, either. He hated anyone who didn’t share his bigoted and often perverse outlook on life. A man who said he did not go into teaching because he would want to “shag” 14 year-girls and who felt that there was no harm in people viewing child pornography is probably not the sort of person I would like to share a pint with in a local hostelry. As well as holding highly dubious views on what some might consider to be paedophilia, Liddle hated just about everyone, as you can see by reading this article by Zoe Williams, who actually knew him. Ann, love, your comment, “It is absurd to heap praise on him merely because he has died” could not be more apt given the circumstances.
It’s probably not a good thing to celebrate, as I did upon the death of former prime minister Margaret Thatcher, but I could not help myself. I was there when she set about Britain with a wrecking ball that caused so much damage that the country still suffers from her terrible legacy. My feeling upon learning of her death was tempered only by the sadness that there was not a Hell for her to go to. My feelings of loathing for her only grew deeper when people, some of whom should, I felt, have known better, lavished the old witch with praise, none of which she deserved. Perhaps, I have gained in maturity since Thatcher’s death and that’s why I did not feel the need to celebrate the deaths of Widdecombe and Liddle or perhaps it’s simply because Thatcher was an overwhelmingly terrible person without a single saving grace and at least Widdecombe and Liddle didn’t all but destroy the country and all it stands for?
I try hard to be kind these days, although I admit that there are some people out there in the world, some I know but most I don’t, who I would not miss in the slightest if they were to slip off their mortal coils.
In the meantime, my thoughts are with their family and friends. Thinking about it, that might not be true, either, since I have no idea who their family and friends are. I hate liars so maybe I should come up with an alternative line to avoid being called a hypocrite. Or just ignore it and move on?
