WE HEARD last Friday of
the astonishing survival of Reshma Begum, a seamstress from one of
the five garment factories in the stricken Rana Plaza in Dhaka,
Bangladesh. She had been working on the third floor when the
building began to collapse. She ran down the stairs, and ended up
in the basement, alive among rubble, dead and dying bodies, and
shattered concrete. Then, 17 days after the start of her ordeal,
she was rescued.
Soon after the news
broke, I heard an interview on Radio 4 with Willie McMartin of the
International Rescue Corps. He was asked how Ms Begum had managed
to survive for so long. One of the main reasons he cited was
culture.
People from the affluent
West, he said, were likely to panic much more quickly. They were
vulnerable when suddenly stripped of predictability and control.
Poor people, especially those supported by a strong religious
environment, did not lose hope so quickly. They were more able to
stay calm because they believed that if they were destined to
survive, they would indeed do so.
It was a surprise to
think that a fatalistic attitude could contribute to survival. I
was brought up to believe the exact opposite. I have long been
familiar with the idea that poor people from the Third World,
especially Muslims, were disadvantaged by precisely that fatalism;
that they lacked the can-do creativity of the West.
But perhaps we overplay
our belief in ourselves, and do indeed find ourselves more at a
loss than others who are less fortunate when basic survival is at
stake. Ms Begum's sister, when interviewed on local television,
attributed the rescue to the mercy of God. This was not just
conventional piety. Those who have lived in a Muslim culture are
well aware of how everyday life, speech, action, and thought are
permeated by a sense of the divine presence and the divine
will.
A strong belief that God
has ordained what happens was once part of the Christian faith,
too. It has been parodied for supporting the status quo, and
encouraging the poor to accept their lot in life. But it also
enabled people to accept the derailments that most of us today find
intolerable.
It is not simple stoicism
- more an attitude of what might be called, after the spiritual
classic, self-abandonment to divine providence. If Mr McMartin is
right, Ms Begum survived because, even in terrifying circumstances,
her centre of gravity remained beyond herself. She really
believed.
The Revd Angela Tilby
is Diocesan Canon of Christ Church, Oxford, and Continuing
Ministerial Development Adviser for the diocese of Oxford.