In the ancient world it was common to ask for the king’s judgment, since there was no modern division of powers: the rulers were therefore the supreme judges to whom the most controversial and apparently insoluble cases were subjected. The first Book of Kings gives a significant example of the wisdom of King Solomon of Israel. Two women presented themselves to Solomon: each had given birth to a son within days of the other. They both lived in the same house. One night it happened that one of the two children died. Which of the two? The two mothers both claimed to be the mother of the living child and to want to keep him with them. According to the indictment, the dead child’s mother had swapped the child for the other woman’s live one while the other woman slept.
At a certain point, Solomon, having listened several times to the requests of the two women, had a sword brought and ordered that the living child be cut in half to give a part to each of them. Then the real mother crying begged him to deliver the baby to the other woman, just to save him from destruction. Solomon, with this stratagem, thus understood that this was the real mother and returned the child to her.
The biblical story of King Solomon teaches that one cannot contend and tear apart, pulling her from one side to the other, a creature who, in order to grow harmoniously, needs a simple and generous love that brings everyone to agree. The case of little Eitan Biran, 6 years old, the only survivor of the tragedy of Mottarone (23 May 2021) in which he lost both his parents, his little brother and great-grandparents, is paradigmatic and, beyond the news, destined to solicit reflections in the area of child protection. Eitan is an already terribly traumatized child, disputed between the family members of the two branches, paternal (the aunt, sister of Eitan’s father, who lives in Italy) and maternal (the grandparents, parents of Eitan’s mother, residing in Israel).
Both are fighting for legal protection and want to adopt him, raise him as their own child. But the love for Eitan is also measured by the ability to respect all the emotional ties of the child, his relational life, which represents the backbone on which his evolving self develops. The arduous task of establishing a new balance after Eitan’s loss of parental figures rests, in the first instance, with the closest figures. In the event that the conflict between these persists, directly or indirectly, the intervention of professionals will be necessary who can bring attention back from the dispute to the psychological well-being of the child.
Sew, maintain, reinforce. These are the “key” words to initiate the resilience of a child who has been subjected to breakups, losses, missing persons, estrangements, physical and emotional impediments. And finally being able to feel compassion for others and for himself. It is known that survivors of tragedies sometimes develop a sense of guilt towards those who did not make it. Apparently, according to Roberta Bruzzone, a criminologist consultant for the maternal family, the child also feels guilty because it was he, on that unfortunate day, who asked his parents to take the cable car (later crashed) to climb to the top of Mottarone.
As long as family clashes continue, initiating resilience is difficult, if not impossible. This is why it is essential to minimize the exposure of the child to the conflict between the two family branches and to protect his interests, mainly psychic, before he is inevitably induced to side with one or the other. The literature reports that, in the case of disputed children (typically in conflicting separations) when the conflict is child-centered, such as custody, visits, vacations or contacts with the parents’ families of origin, this leads to the children to express feelings of guilt, shame and fear of being drawn into the conflict (Joyce, 2016).
Developing compassion for himself and for others can help Eitan prevent or mitigate the sense of guilt and fear that a terrible event will overwhelm him again or overwhelm those closest to him. Having compassion for oneself means accepting one’s pain trying to recognize what can help him feel better (people, places, situations), experiencing a sense, even temporary, of comfort and security. Compassion for others means cultivating a particular sensitivity for all that is fragile, vulnerable, defenseless (like a newborn kitten, an abandoned puppy, a flower that has just blossomed …) and that nevertheless tries to live, to resist shocks, to pain, to annihilation.