“Be a Stoic, if You Will!”

By Dr. Al-Khidir Haroun
Stoicism is an ancient Greek philosophy founded by Zeno of Citium in the 3rd century BC. Its highest principle is virtue, which serves as a solid foundation for individual and societal conduct. Among its core values is self-fulfilment through inner peace and reconciliation. Through reason and logic—while avoiding impulsiveness, anxiety, rashness, and wishful thinking—a person can achieve their goals. This also entails accepting uncontrollable external factors without allowing their impossibility to lead to despair, which destroys inner peace and happiness. Instead, one must calmly strive to overcome them when circumstances allow.
This is the focus of this reflection, though its title does not imply a call to fully embrace a philosophy that has long since faded and scattered into various ideologies—much like bloodlines spread across tribes through marriage over generations. Naturally, from every great philosophy, what is most useful remains, while what is less significant endures merely as noise, quotes, or distant memory.
What persists from noble philosophies is their respect for human dignity and the assertion of humanity’s value in the struggle for livelihood. These lessons come through hardship and long experience and have been preserved in the core of divine religions for their inherent strength, uprightness, and connection to a dignified life—a life that rejects hollow glamour, artificial fame, and superficial reputation. Within this framework lies comfort and solace—essential for continuing life, for tending to wounds, and for preventing souls from being lost in sorrow.
This is among the merits of Stoicism: aligning with contentment and inner satisfaction—not as submission, but as strength.
Through conflict with nature and among themselves, humans—compelled by necessity—developed mental capacities to envision justice and establish fair societies. Religions then formalised these values, demanding ethical conduct, promoting peacebuilding, and prioritising altruism over selfishness and humility over egotism. Yet the material world continued to lure humanity away from the spiritual and divine. Pride, vanity, and the humiliation of others have remained hallmarks of human history.
Philosophers have struggled to explain this, wavering between optimism and pessimism. Ironically, the social contract theory in political philosophy—meant to elevate the dignity of the governed—relied on both outlooks. Thomas Hobbes adopted a pessimistic view based on human selfishness and the instinct to dominate others. To him, everyone is against everyone else, so people must relinquish some freedoms to establish an authority that protects them. Thus, the idea of the social contract was born. This view inspired the realist school of modern political thought, which considers war and its anticipation the norm, while peace is merely an exception.
On the other hand, Jean-Jacques Rousseau believed in the inherent goodness of people, asserting that all are born free and that society itself curtails that freedom. He also advocated a social contract, one that protects liberty and empowers people to choose their rulers. The current liberal international order—though now showing signs of weakness and decay—draws heavily on Rousseau’s legacy. Following these thinkers, democratic thought evolved, and democratic systems emerged.
Then came the Renaissance and the Industrial Revolution, which catapulted humanity forward on all levels. These eras inspired optimistic philosophies like modernism, some of which drew from Hegel’s idealist dialectic, based on the notion of the Absolute—i.e., God. Hegel viewed humanity as progressing toward human perfection. Marxism later removed Hegel’s idealism but retained dialectic thinking, replacing it with a materialistic class struggle. Marx foresaw eventual optimism: a final victory of equality, the end of the oppressive state, and freedom for all.
Yet selfishness remained dominant over altruism, and power was still the means to achieve ends. Europeans engaged in devastating wars—more than any other people. In the so-called “Age of Enlightenment,” the 20th century, they killed each other in massive numbers: about 11 million in WWI, and around 50 million in WWII—fueled by racism and extremist ideologies. Where, then, was enlightenment?
Eugenics spread, seeking to engineer ideal children. Evangelical fundamentalism surged. Humanity continued to shed blood as it had in the days of the Mongols and barbarians. Just a century before, they had slaughtered each other in the name of religion. At Bismarck’s invitation, European powers redirected their internal conflicts outward—toward Africa, Asia, and the Caribbean—rushing like scavengers upon the spoils of the poor world. This came after the African slave trade, which fueled sugar and textile production and brought unprecedented wealth to Europe and America.
Woodrow Wilson, a U.S. president and Princeton University academic (and a Southern racist), helped found the League of Nations—which his own country never joined. He proposed self-determination for colonies and established a transparent global legal order. The victorious Allies in WWII later adopted this vision, founding the United Nations with its institutions and International Court, theoretically ensuring equal sovereignty among states.
But as George Orwell wrote in Animal Farm: “All are equal, but some are more equal than others.” The five founding members were granted veto power over the decisions of 14 other states—supposedly their equals. This equality is merely ink on paper. Where is equality amid aircraft carriers and weapons of mass destruction?
International law applies selectively. Israel, for example, is shielded by the U.S. from condemnation or enforcement. Some countries are allowed to possess WMDs; others are forbidden, with entire agencies formed to prevent them.
This is the so-called “civilised” world—today on the brink of total war, which may annihilate all life.
In Sudan, we are supposed to be equal in sovereignty and protected from foreign interference. Yet for over two years, we’ve faced a foreign-backed assault, supported by a small state—the UAE, backed by others—using tribal militias originally formed as looting gangs. The “civilised world” watches on social media as millions are forcibly displaced, women raped, thousands killed, hospitals and universities burned. Even regional organisations to which we belong, whether by geography or shared civilisation, dare not issue even a verbal condemnation.
Today, deals govern international relations—not law. The current war is one of the harshest lessons for Sudanese alive today. It is a new kind of international conspiracy aimed at destroying a nation—its land, people, and wealth. And if successful, it may be replicated elsewhere. We must understand it this way and confront it as such.
For the faithful, solace lies in sincere monotheism, reliance on God, and independence from people. For those who lack deep religious conviction, Stoic realism offers another path: accepting the world, with all its flaws and injustices, without surrender or despair—nourishing that innate spark for life and dignity, and resisting with patience, determination, and faith in eventual triumph.
A man fighting to reclaim his home or protect his kin has that right—sanctioned by divine and human law. A man may fight out of pride or simply to assert his existence—these, too, are survival strategies with honour.
So, yes—be Stoic. Or atheist. Or whatever you may be. But none of that exempts you from the responsibility to do something for your country and your people. This is among the holiest of duties, and no distraction should deter you from it.

Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=6010