THE LION, THE EAGLE, AND THE PIGEON.

Walking down a grand avenue in one of Europe’s major cities, I caught sight of a lion standing over an eagle, gripping the great bird by its talons. From a distance, it seemed to me like a territorial dispute. It was a large and beautiful square, adorned with splendid trees and inhabited by other animals. Judging by the bird’s imposing stature, it is possible that the lion, being territorial, had sensed some threat to his reign in that place and had launched the attack.

Yet what struck me most was the calmness with which a pigeon relieved itself on the lion’s head while the latter held the eagle with a paw pressed against its neck. Did the pigeon understand what was going on? Had it realised the danger it was in, being there at that moment? Or was it simply that, for this small bird, its immediate needs outweighed any peril it might face? Perhaps it thought that its fine white plumage and harmless appearance would shield it from the attack of either predator. Perhaps it believed that the governance of the square was no concern of its own, and that, for it, the outcome of the struggle would make no difference. Was the pigeon right? Did the rule of the square truly make no difference?

Both lions and eagles are large carnivores. Lions measure around two metres in length, weigh on average 270 kilograms, and can reach an impressive speed of nearly 80 km/h. In a confined space such as a square, escaping an attack would be extremely difficult. One might say, “At least they cannot fly.” Yet they do not need to. They can lie in wait for hours, biding their time for the perfect moment to strike.

And what of eagles? Eagles are superb hunters, birds of prey — and the term “prey” here comes from the Latin for “to seize.” They possess sharp beaks, strong talons, and exceptionally keen hearing and sight. They can dive at tremendous speed and deliver a fatal blow to their victim before it even realises where the attack came from.

Given all this, it is clear that the pigeon would stand no chance of survival if either predator decided to attack. So where does the pigeon’s calmness — and courage — come from? Why does it defecate on the lion’s head in the midst of battle, showing not the slightest sign of fear for its life? Is the pigeon truly such a brave creature? Who, in fact, are the pigeons?

Pigeons are animals measuring roughly 30 centimetres in length, feeding primarily on seeds. They are domestic creatures, often found in urban environments. Their principal predators are precisely birds of prey and felines — the respective families of eagles and lions — the latter of which seek out their nests and consume their eggs and chicks.

  So, where does such courage come from — this pigeon’s audacity to relieve itself calmly upon the head of one of its greatest predators, in the midst of a territorial dispute with another of its greatest predators? It is difficult to give a definitive answer without knowing the pigeon personally; perhaps it would be best to ask him. Nevertheless, some observations can be made.

The pigeon, a monogamous creature with few offspring, thinks only of its nest and its family, as though the struggle for control of its territory were of no concern to it. It lives its life as if only immediate survival were important, ignoring the fact that its existence is not within its own control, nor is the safety of its home or family.

At any moment, one of the predators ruling its territory might decide something about it or its family without seeking its opinion or consent. They might change the type of food it may eat, the kind of knowledge its chicks are allowed to learn, or even the medical care they may receive. In exchange, they promise to let them live. But that’s all right! The pigeon has a home, a family, and the right to be alive. For it, this seems enough: a home it does not govern, a family over whose future or education it has no say, and a life that can only be lived on the terms set by whichever predator holds power.

But to the pigeon, none of this matters. What matters is to defecate in the public square and pretend that nothing is happening — for in doing so, it manages to feel a little safer. And for the predator, a good pigeon is a quiet and submissive pigeon, even if it is making a mess. By acting in this way, the little bird earns the right to live and relieve itself as it pleases, even though it controls neither its home nor its life. Silence is the price of peace.

Thus, both live together in mutual accord, and the pigeon carries on, one day at a time — until the ruling predator becomes embroiled in an even greater territorial conflict and destroys the entire square. But no matter! As long as it keeps doing nothing, everything will surely be fine. The pigeon prefers to remain optimistic. And if everything should end in ruin, at least it will have spent its life making a mess and convincing itself it was happy and free.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Oliver-Selau/author/B08T6Y9J54?ref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true&ccs_id=9b04db30-8f55-4e0b-a593-09595349c7d5