Malinda Words: Dung-lies and flower-truths

Witness stands are court-appendages. That’s where we are questioned about whether or not we witnessed and, if we did, we are called upon to describe what we saw. Not all witnesses have to testify in court, before a judge and a jury. We see things all the time. We try to make sense of what we see. We form opinions. We come to conclusions. And not always are we questioned about these things.

What if we were, though? What if we were called upon to bear witness? Would we always speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth of what we saw, heard and felt?

We don’t have to. No one deserves to be questioned at each and every turn. Indeed, few are tormented thus. However, there are times when we can’t shrug shoulders and move away. There are times when ‘not now’ or ‘too busy’ are simply unacceptable. There are times when summoned to a forum of one kind or another, we cannot excuse ourselves.

When such occasions arise, people can respond in two broad ways.

There are those who are evasive when asked ‘what do you know?’ When they know they say ‘I do not know’ and when they don’t they still insist ‘I know.’ They say ‘I saw’ when they haven’t seen and ‘I saw not’ when in fact they have. Their responses are informed by self-interest. They assess marginal costs against marginal benefits. They seek profit and desist from uttering anything that could result in a loss, in terms of their understanding of such things.

They do not speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. They bear false witness. They subvert truth and justice. They speak or are silent; either way they foul the air. In the Gūthabhāṇīsutta, the Buddha observes that such speech is dung-like.

Then there are others who will not waver when it comes to bearing witness. They will say ‘this I saw’ and ‘this I heard.’ And if they did not, they would say ‘no, I did not see’ and ‘no, I did not hear.’ Their responses are coloured by self-interest. Such speech, the Buddha says, is like flowers.

The Buddha also speaks of a third type, speech that is like hone.

‘And who has speech like honey? It’s someone who gives up harsh speech. They speak in a way that’s mellow, pleasing to the ear, lovely, going to the heart, polite, likeable and agreeable to the people. This is called a person with speech like honey.’

It follows then that there can be a fourth kind of speech. It is harsh. It displeases the ear. It is impolite. It does not come from the heart. It is not agreeable to anyone. It is certainly not like honey.

Can there be liars who speak like honey? Yes, that’s not only possible, we see it all the time. One could lie using a mellow tone and in ways that please the ear, with utmost politeness. Such voices can provide a lie with a truth-like varnish. Such liars can be even held in high regard as people of impeccable integrity.

The problem is the dung. Sooner or later the bad odours escape. When this happens the lie and the liar are exposed.

The second problem is that a lie is essentially a plugging of a hole in a story. One lie has to be protected with another lie and another and another. Maintaining falsehood is tedious. Truth-water seeps in and after a while it comes faster than you can throw it out. Sooner or later and the odious vessel sinks.

There’s a smell of dung these days that is traceable to the offices of the most powerful individuals, groups, classes and countries in this world. There's flower-fragrance too. It is a timeless battle. The liars use honeyed tones but words have a way of rebelling and of tripping the lie-masters.

Infinitely easier and wholesome to speak the truth, regardless of consequences, don’t you think?

['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is the 275th article in the new series that began in December 2022. Links to previous articles are given below]

25 November 2023

Dung-lies and flower-truths

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