It was Shakespeare who said something about protesting too much. I wonder whether the Bard knew himself as well as he knew others.

I protested too much. I can hear myself talking back then; I wish now someone had clapped a big hand around my mouth to stifle the words. I didn’t set out to betray my own values. But what are values if they aren’t practised, but only spoken? Lies. Is it possible to lie to oneself? It is more than possible: it is easier than telling oneself the truth.

The response to the dialogue of one’s own dishonesty is like the reaction of the mob to a speech by a self-righteous politician. They listen intently and cheer the words ‘peace’, ‘security’, ‘freedom’ while determinedly ignoring their nagging inner voices that cry out, ‘lies!’ It is always easier to agree with the demagogue than to challenge him. And no wonder: history teaches us what might be the awful consequences of such challenges. To challenge one’s own thoughts takes similar courage: we might have to face uncomfortable truths. Might it be that if we mount a challenge to our own self-righteousness we’ll discover we are not what we hoped we are? Instead there lurks a coward, a crook, a beast? Perhaps we’ll stare into the face of our own damnation.

No! Such contemplations are too hard, we tell ourselves. Besides, only actions count; but there is the rub. (Shakespeare again!) How do we know who we really are until we are truly tested?

How often (and with echoes of shrill desperation) have we all said, “I would never do that”? I know I have said it many times and the words have turned to Sahara sand in my mouth. I rinse and rinse but the burn and dryness doesn’t go away. My teeth crack down on the tiniest grain and I grimace with discomfort. But I deserve it.

After all, I have betrayed myself; failed my own test. Now I must live with the consequences...It was Shakespeare who said something about protesting too much. I wonder whether the Bard knew himself as well as he knew others.

I protested too much. I can hear myself talking back then; I wish now someone had clapped a big hand around my mouth to stifle the words. I didn’t set out to betray my own values. But what are values if they aren’t practised, but only spoken? Lies. Is it possible to lie to oneself? It is more than possible: it is easier than telling oneself the truth.

The response to the dialogue of one’s own dishonesty is like the reaction of the mob to a speech by a self-righteous politician. They listen intently and cheer the words ‘peace’, ‘security’, ‘freedom’ while determinedly ignoring their nagging inner voices that cry out, ‘lies!’ It is always easier to agree with the demagogue than to challenge him. And no wonder: history teaches us what might be the awful consequences of such challenges. To challenge one’s own thoughts takes similar courage: we might have to face uncomfortable truths. Might it be that if we mount a challenge to our own self-righteousness we’ll discover we are not what we hoped we are? Instead there lurks a coward, a crook, a beast? Perhaps we’ll stare into the face of our own damnation.

No! Such contemplations are too hard, we tell ourselves. Besides, only actions count; but there is the rub. (Shakespeare again!) How do we know who we really are until we are truly tested?

How often (and with echoes of shrill desperation) have we all said, “I would never do that”? I know I have said it many times and the words have turned to Sahara sand in my mouth. I rinse and rinse but the burn and dryness doesn’t go away. My teeth crack down on the tiniest grain and I grimace with discomfort. But I deserve it.

After all, I have betrayed myself; failed my own test. Now I must live with the consequences...