Schadenfreude: the case of Bagramyan 26 "Why does Pakistan need trains?"

It is not the height of bad manners to gloat over another's misfortune with gratification or delight if it is done without ill-intent and as mere posturing. It is only when a malicious state of mind comes into the equation that we happen to be in the presence of something as unseemly and grotesque as schadenfreude.

On 7 August, Bagramyan 26, a Telegram channel widely believed to be closely connected with the government of Nikol Pashinyan, shared a post about a rail accident in Southern Pakistan, which cost the lives of 30 passengers, leaving 100 injured. In what appears to have been designed as a mock note of condolence, the author gleefully states: "They [Pakistanis] could have lived happily and long, taking a great deal of pride in their atomic bomb, which Armenia does not possess, insatiably desiring to destroy Armenia, which they have never seen, … but then, rather unhelpfully, it turned out that there are also trains in Pakistan." The post ends with an "our condolences" line to make the whole mockery complete.

What we observe here is a classic manifestation of schadenfreude, the experience of elation – joy or pleasure – caused by learning of another's trouble. In Bagramyan's case, the bizarre pleasure derived from the derailment of a passenger train is also spiced with irony. The mocking is not subtle, but somewhat indirect. What Bagramyan is hinting at is that, although Pakistan is in possession of nuclear weapons – the preserve of a select club of nations – its antiquated railway system has let it down badly. It is also clear that the author, at least, suspects Pakistan of harbouring the intention of destroying Armenia.

It is not unheard of for Armenian social network users or even public figures to gloat over tragic occurrences involving Azerbaijan and Turkiye with blatantly obviously malicious intent. When, back in January 2023, the chief of the security staff at the Azerbaijani Embassy in Tehran, Orkhan Asgarov, was murdered by an assailant, the Armenian media was awash with jubilatory comments in praise of what was described as "God's just retribution". When, later in February, the deadly earthquake shook eastern Turkiye, some in Armenia perceived the tragedy as the emanation of "divine justice", with Hakop Aslanyan, a member of the ruling Civil Contract party, reiterating that "a good Turk is a dead Turk".

Bagramyan's mockery of a tragedy that cost lives in Pakistan is not a direct disparagement, but a sly innuendo. In expressing his schadenfreude, the author, and not obliquely, refers to Pakistan's desire to expunge Armenia and non-recognition of its independence and, in the tragic accident, sees some unearthly redress for his nation's grievances. Any experience of this kind has its own logic, quite often distorted, based on some internal construct of "unfairness (or inequity) aversion", hinging on the negative notions of aggression, rivalry and justice.

Bagramyan, as is the case for many of his compatriots, seems to have cultivated a false belief that Pakistan's unwavering support for Azerbaijan's territorial integrity and its decision not to recognise Armenia diplomatically, until the latter settles all of its issues with Baku, amount to some existential threat. This is where the “false unfairness aversion", guiding the author's cynically expressed morose delectation at the rail derailment tragedy, comes into play. There is a perverted sense of "justice served", explaining the cause of the pleasure experienced. 

In Bagramyan's mind, if one wishes to enter his perverted state of consciousness, taking into account his similar posts, Pakistan is a nation akin to the crime-soaked effluent of the darkest vomitorium of Hell, eager to do irreparable damage to Armenia. Without digressing too much, it should be noted that Islamabad's line vis-a-vis Yerevan has never been outside the realm of international law and nothing criminal has ever been committed. As is the case for the entire international community, Pakistan recognises Azerbaijan's territorial integrity; it is just that its position has been far more principled and decent than most.

However snobbish and self-consequential Bagramyan might have contrived to sound, his malicious gloating is indicative of self-delusion and low self-esteem. It can be surmised that Pakistan's possession of a nuclear arsenal has induced in him begrudgery – helpless resentment - and, as observing this luxury has not prevented the object of his loathing from the human catastrophe that took place, he derives delight in the adversity of what he believes to be his nation's nemesis.

The point is that the tragic incident in Pakistan has no bearing on the fortunes of Armenia, for there is no direct chain enabling the misfortune in question to be readily transmogrified into some utilisable asset for Armenia. It is, therefore, a sign of low self-esteem to feel satisfaction, based on a creepy notion that an unrelated tragedy experienced by other people is somehow good for one's place in the world. Bagramyan's post reveals the inner sanctum of himself, in which the acute shortage of genuine successes by his own country renders a desire to snatch a pot-shot at another's ill-fortune.

What augments the futility of the whole exercise is that Pakistan is not disproportionately impacted by the author's vexing words, and is also not in need of his compassion. One who experiences the feeling of this kind is usually inadvertently under the impression that he is doing damage to his adversary, and this, too, gives him a false sense of accomplishment. In fact, Bagramyan’s unfortunate words have achieved no practical purpose, perhaps apart from providing me - and I feel duty-bound to give him his due – with food for thought.

Experiencing schadenfreude itself is perhaps somewhat irresistible, due to deeply felt emotions, but one can always restrain oneself from openly declaring the fact of perverted pleasure. It requires a great deal of moral depravity to rejoice, however ironically, at the deaths of others, particularly when unrelated to one's circumstances. 

In all probability, upon hearing the news of the train accident in Southern Pakistan, Bagramyan felt an uncontrollable spasm of gratification, not of an embarrassing kind that one would have been eager to curb, and then scribbled - or rather typed - a mock condolence, savouring his schadenfreude. 

There is nothing non-human about anything enacted by humans. From the most self-effacing charitable acts to the gravest barbaric crimes, the history of our species is reflective of our own selves. Let us do our bit in the vast catalogue of humane acts and offer our most sincerest and heartfelt condolences to those who lost their lives in Southern Pakistan. May the souls of the deceased rest in peace.