What is this thing called human cruelty really?

[misscam]

So now some Iraqis seem to be using the abuse revalations as an excuse to do bad onto Americans. There is never such an excuse. Never. Not for Americans, not for Iraqis, not for Norwegians, not for Australians, not for Tibetians. Never. I said it in the discussions about Abu Ghraib and I'm saying it again - now matter what bad is done to you it does not give you the right to do bad back. That creates Rwanadas and Yugoslavia as its uttermost consequence.

*shakes head* Apparently, one name mentioned has being involved in the killing of Nick Berg is Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, who used to be in Ansar Al Islam. And the former leader of Ansar Al Islam is Mullah Krekar, who is right here in Norway. Aren't we lucky?

Link, if you have missed the story.

And I've also heard that CBS is apparently going to avideo from Abu Ghraib with soldiers talking about the prisoners and abuse.

Why do people do this to each other? I asked myself the same thing when fifteen year old Benjamin Hansen was killed here in Norway by neo-Nazis just because his skin was dark. Why the hell do we do this? And I say we because I don't believe these are people born evil or some other such simple answer. No, I don't believe that. I've never believed in black and white and good and evil only. European history is filled with rather ordinary humans doing terrible, terrible things. And Rwanda had ordinary people one day pick up machetes and hack at their neighbours. Why?

And then I look to myself and I wonder. I too have urges to do bad unto those I feel have done bad to bad. I too sometimes wish pain upon people who have pained me. I can be petty, I can be vengeful, I can be unfair. And I don't think I'm that bad a person. But I know I have it within me and sometimes it comes out, like a retractable claw. Does that make sense?

So what is it within me and so many others that can cause such actrocities? What *is* human cruelty? Herd mentality? Survival instinct? Or is it of our own creation?

How I wish I could understand, truly understand, as much as I know the answer would horrify me. Or perhaps I don't really want to understand, for that very reason.

No answers, then. Just the questions. And little me and the big, big world.