There are images one does not easily forget. The shots fired on 10 September at Charlie Kirk, the American provocateur, struck not only him but an entire nation’s political scene. Suddenly, the boundaries between a war of words and actual murder had disappeared.
Shortly before, the young Ukrainian refugee Irqua Zarutska fell victim to a cold-blooded killing, revealing that evil is not a metaphor, but a terrifying reality that takes hold of human beings.
Those who believe that we have entered a ‘post-religious’ world are mistaken. Recent history provides more than enough evidence: two assassination attempts on Pope John Paul II (1981 and 1982), the shooting of US President Ronald Reagan in 1981, the attempt on Donald Trump’s life in 2024. Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine, the massacres committed by Hamas against Israeli civilians, the abduction of innocent hostages. The murders of the Charlie Hebdo editors in Paris in 2015, who as satirists thought themselves secure. All this points to a dark constant: evil, threading itself through world history, always appearing when man believes he has everything under control.
Devils and demons: more than symbols
There are those who argue that the devil is merely a symbol for destructive energies. But symbols do not fire bullets, they do not plant bombs, they do not drag children into tunnels. Evil works in a personal mode; it has its own logic, its own dynamic. Anyone engaging seriously with the Christian tradition will quickly discern that devils and demons are not poetic inventions, but names for real forces bent on seducing man into committing evil. Temptation is not always spectacular. It may begin quietly: stirring up envy, bitterness, the desire to belittle others.
Every human being is tempted to do evil, even when convinced of intending good. The fanatic who kills ‘for the truth’. The politician who, in the name of progress, deprives people of their rights. The youth who, within an ideological echo chamber, learns to no longer see the ‘enemy’ as human. Evil thrives on mimicking the good—until it becomes its deadly inversion.
The responsibility of the media
Herein lies a particular responsibility for the media. Whoever circulates images, slogans, and narratives shapes the souls of the young. Generation Z and Alpha are more receptive to catchphrases than to well-reasoned arguments. Platforms such as TikTok and X can turn worldviews into fashions within seconds, with all the risks of entrapment. When hatred and mockery become entertainment, the road to radicalisation is short. Mature adults, journalists and teachers bear a double duty: not to act as seducers themselves, but to offer guidance to those who are weaker.
This does not mean avoiding critical debate. It does mean establishing standards, distinguishing between justified polemic and dehumanisation. Those who meet evil only with ironic eye-roll emojis fail to take it seriously. Mental defences are needed, just as one protects oneself physically against disease. Spiritual hygiene is indispensable in times of digital bombardment. Alongside it one should practice self-criticism, through for example the regular confession of one’s sins.
The victory of spirit over mammon
Modernity has learnt to mock evil. One wears the Cross as an accessory, a fashionable logo on T-shirts and trainers. Yet the Cross is not a lifestyle symbol. It signifies God’s radical confrontation with evil. Whoever trivialises it plays with a power stronger than any ideological trend. And God will not be mocked indefinitely. History shows that decadence and godlessness exact their price—whether in the fall of empires or in the catastrophes of totalitarian systems. Yet in the end, hope remains.
At Fatima it was promised that the Immaculate Heart of Mary would triumph. The victory of the good is not a matter of optimism or self-help, but a pledge that offers the Christian stability. The triumph of spirit over matter, of heaven over mammon, is no naïve illusion but a divine reality, revealed again and again: in the survival of the Church despite persecutions, in the resistance of the brave against tyranny, in martyrdom that bears fruit beyond all violence.
The reality of evil must not be diminished. To relativise it is to belittle the victims. Our task is to name evil for what it is—not to wallow in dread, but to remain vigilant. If we take the susceptibility of every human being to it seriously, we may find ways to withstand it. Those who understand or use the Cross only as a logo miss its meaning. Those who see it as the sign of God’s victory over evil find hope and direction. In a world that again and again falls into darkness, the light remains stronger.
Statement
Recent attacks and wars reveal that evil is no metaphor but a terrifying reality. From the attempts on John Paul II, Reagan and Trump to Hamas terror and Russia’s assault on Ukraine, violence always has a spiritual dimension. Christian tradition names devils and demons as forces bringing each person into temptation. The media bear particular responsibility not to let young people fall into deception. To trivialise the Cross is to deny its power. Yet Fatima promises the triumph of good: spirit over matter, heaven over mammon. Hope, rooted in God’s eventual victory, remains stronger than hatred.