Another chapter from the lessons of diplomacy: what they call maneuvering.
It is not the same as cunning, deceit, or trickery. No — it is free from malicious intent, fraud, or deception. It resembles, to some extent, a form of mutual uncertainty: you hesitate, and you cause your opponent to hesitate with you. You read the lines in his palm while keeping your own hand closed. You leave matters open, suspended. Final closure is harshness and rupture. Maneuvering may contain a small degree of untruth, but it is still far preferable to absolute rigidity.
And according to many political analyses, maneuvering is considered a legitimate form of conduct — even justified — because it protects against error and grants those in conflict an opportunity for reflection and reconsideration before escalation.
In sports, maneuvering is not only acceptable but admired as a skill. It differs from cheating because it carries no harm. The world’s most beloved sport, FIFA football, depends on it. The game requires physical fitness, endurance, and long breath, yet none of these matter without the ability to maneuver.
I write all this in defense of the fox, to whom maneuvering has long been attributed — especially when the poet once said in flattery
What do you expect from a creature that spends its life searching for a chicken it rarely finds?
I know this well from a group of foxes near us whose cries echo every evening when they return disappointed from their wandering search for dinner. They howl sadly and go to sleep hungry.
As for hungry human beings, many now find their sustenance in garbage bags discarded into landfills by those whose meals overflowed with leftovers.
That, it seems, is the cruel rule of life, as the Egyptian poet Salah Jahin once wrote in one of his sharp quatrains:
Maneuvering in pursuit of a worthy and innocent goal is a legitimate right. And the fox has every right to maneuver out of fear.
What else would you want it to do?
Become a wolf?
Quoted from: Asharq Al-Awsat Newspaper