It is a word of reverence for the soul - akin to how American culture will name someone who has passed and immediately following their name, “rest in peace”. It’s a wish for an afterlife better than what they endured in life and it’s repeated almost as more of a comfort to those still alive, trying to process their loss. A shred of comfo…
It is a word of reverence for the soul - akin to how American culture will name someone who has passed and immediately following their name, “rest in peace”. It’s a wish for an afterlife better than what they endured in life and it’s repeated almost as more of a comfort to those still alive, trying to process their loss. A shred of comfort to think your loved one will have peace or glory in an afterlife. Language and religious nuance splits what is very much a universal practice when processing loss and grief - we exalt that person. The loss of a universe.
The exact part that boggles me is this principle: I will take an action—let's use Hamas as an example—that I know will result in the deaths of thousands, even tens of thousands, of my own people, literally my family. And I am willing to sacrifice them so that my organization becomes stronger in the name of God.
It’s one thing for individuals to be brainwashed into doing irrational or destructive things—that’s not new. What I can’t wrap my head around is how the broader society seems to accept this. They don’t revolt or push back against leaders who are essentially treating them as expendable pawns. The fact that this dynamic doesn’t lead to mass rejection, anger, or rebellion against those responsible is genuinely weird to me.
We are all Homo sapiens. A part of our brain, often referred to as the "lizard brain" (the basal part of our brain), is responsible for our most primal instincts, like survival, self-preservation, and avoiding harm. This is supposed to act as a natural safeguard against behaviors that would jeopardize our own lives or the lives of those we care about. Yet here, that self-preservation instinct seems completely overridden by ideological brainwashing.
And that’s what’s so weird to me—so freaking weird. It’s as if the fundamental drive to stay alive has been suppressed or redirected toward something abstract, like martyrdom or collective sacrifice, and I just can’t make sense of how that happens on such a large scale.
Thank you for the explanation. I still struggle to comprehend the afterlife aspect of this, which makes it hard for me to fully grasp. I know there are cultures that venerate their dead, where funerals are more about celebrating life and achievements than just grieving the loss. Maybe this concept of martyrdom is an offshoot of that?
Even so, there’s a lingering sense of collective goals that feels distinct here. When I compare it to other struggles, like Ukraine’s fight for freedom, it stands out. Ukrainians also honor those who sacrifice their lives, but the focus is on patriotism, national sovereignty, and resistance—not on afterlife rewards or divine glory. The reverence exists, but it feels different, more grounded.
Similarly, when I look at other freedom movements, I don’t see the same emphasis on martyrdom. Groups that fight for independence or against oppressive regimes—whether secular or culturally driven—often frame sacrifice as part of a collective cause, not as a path to spiritual reward. I know there are exceptions, like certain militant factions that adopt similar language, but it still doesn’t center around the afterlife in the same way.
The closest comparison I can think of is Imperial Japan during World War II. Their glorification of sacrifice, through the kamikaze mindset and the broader cultural ideals of duty and honor, feels somewhat similar. There, death was portrayed as noble and necessary for a greater cause, combining cultural and spiritual beliefs. However, in Japan, much of this was driven by state-engineered propaganda, whereas what I see here appears far more deeply embedded in cultural and religious frameworks.
I realize martyrdom isn’t unique to any one group—it can exist in both religious and secular contexts. Nationalist movements, revolutionary struggles, or state propaganda have all framed sacrifice as heroic. But what feels distinct here is the centrality of the afterlife and divine reward. That’s where I’m stuck. I’m trying to approach this rationally, but the glorification of death in such spiritual terms feels foreign to my way of thinking.
It is a word of reverence for the soul - akin to how American culture will name someone who has passed and immediately following their name, “rest in peace”. It’s a wish for an afterlife better than what they endured in life and it’s repeated almost as more of a comfort to those still alive, trying to process their loss. A shred of comfort to think your loved one will have peace or glory in an afterlife. Language and religious nuance splits what is very much a universal practice when processing loss and grief - we exalt that person. The loss of a universe.
Truly the loss of a universe.
The exact part that boggles me is this principle: I will take an action—let's use Hamas as an example—that I know will result in the deaths of thousands, even tens of thousands, of my own people, literally my family. And I am willing to sacrifice them so that my organization becomes stronger in the name of God.
It’s one thing for individuals to be brainwashed into doing irrational or destructive things—that’s not new. What I can’t wrap my head around is how the broader society seems to accept this. They don’t revolt or push back against leaders who are essentially treating them as expendable pawns. The fact that this dynamic doesn’t lead to mass rejection, anger, or rebellion against those responsible is genuinely weird to me.
We are all Homo sapiens. A part of our brain, often referred to as the "lizard brain" (the basal part of our brain), is responsible for our most primal instincts, like survival, self-preservation, and avoiding harm. This is supposed to act as a natural safeguard against behaviors that would jeopardize our own lives or the lives of those we care about. Yet here, that self-preservation instinct seems completely overridden by ideological brainwashing.
And that’s what’s so weird to me—so freaking weird. It’s as if the fundamental drive to stay alive has been suppressed or redirected toward something abstract, like martyrdom or collective sacrifice, and I just can’t make sense of how that happens on such a large scale.
Thank you for the explanation. I still struggle to comprehend the afterlife aspect of this, which makes it hard for me to fully grasp. I know there are cultures that venerate their dead, where funerals are more about celebrating life and achievements than just grieving the loss. Maybe this concept of martyrdom is an offshoot of that?
Even so, there’s a lingering sense of collective goals that feels distinct here. When I compare it to other struggles, like Ukraine’s fight for freedom, it stands out. Ukrainians also honor those who sacrifice their lives, but the focus is on patriotism, national sovereignty, and resistance—not on afterlife rewards or divine glory. The reverence exists, but it feels different, more grounded.
Similarly, when I look at other freedom movements, I don’t see the same emphasis on martyrdom. Groups that fight for independence or against oppressive regimes—whether secular or culturally driven—often frame sacrifice as part of a collective cause, not as a path to spiritual reward. I know there are exceptions, like certain militant factions that adopt similar language, but it still doesn’t center around the afterlife in the same way.
The closest comparison I can think of is Imperial Japan during World War II. Their glorification of sacrifice, through the kamikaze mindset and the broader cultural ideals of duty and honor, feels somewhat similar. There, death was portrayed as noble and necessary for a greater cause, combining cultural and spiritual beliefs. However, in Japan, much of this was driven by state-engineered propaganda, whereas what I see here appears far more deeply embedded in cultural and religious frameworks.
I realize martyrdom isn’t unique to any one group—it can exist in both religious and secular contexts. Nationalist movements, revolutionary struggles, or state propaganda have all framed sacrifice as heroic. But what feels distinct here is the centrality of the afterlife and divine reward. That’s where I’m stuck. I’m trying to approach this rationally, but the glorification of death in such spiritual terms feels foreign to my way of thinking.