In a post I wrote a few weeks ago about mercy, I commended the Scottish government for granting compassionate release to the Lockerbie Bomber, Abdel Baset al-Megrahi, who is terminally ill. By doing so, they have allowed him to die at home in Libya with his family. After publishing the post, I got a note from a friend who always lets me know in a very kind and respectful way whenever he disagrees with my position. This is what he wrote in reference to the fact that al-Megrahi was essentially given a parade when he got back to Libya:

“You touch on cultural differences [of mercy], but omitted an obvious one…the Libyans. If you look at events in the Middle East over the last 60 years, you will see that power trumps compassion or discussion every time…
The reception of Megrahi orchestrated by the government and his meeting with Qaddafi only reinforces this notion. It may have been noble for the Scots to let him go, but it was a mistake. The reaction on the Arab street will be one of victory over the 270 innocents lost that day.”

His comment got me thinking about whether or not the Libyans’ behavior should matter when we decide if al-Megrahi’s compassionate release was the right thing to do. Should an action’s merit be judged by the way in which the action is received? I understand that it does not sit well for anyone that a convicted terrorist would be given a hero’s welcome upon his return to his homeland. I can see how anyone would take that as a slap in the face, as further evidence that this person is not worthy of our compassion. But if we draw this scenario out to another example, the answer seems clear to me: Imagine if you give someone a letter opener for his birthday and he turns around and stabs someone with it. Does his terrible behavior diminish the kindness of your gift? Does it make your gift a mistake? I believe that your responsibility ends when your friend takes possession of your gift. At that point, whatever he does with it becomes his responsibility. And I believe it is so with al-Megrahi and the Libyans.

It is a frightening position to take. I try to think about how I would feel if al-Megrahi committed another act of violence after his compassionate release. It would be devastating. But as hard as it would be to separate ourselves from it, I believe that such an action would be on al-Megrahi’s head, not ours. I feel strongly that we can only lead in this world by example. The only way to prove to others that compassion should trump power in their lives is by practicing it in ours.