Can We Protect Goodness Without Becoming What We Resist?

In our increasingly polarized world, we often find ourselves caught between two moral imperatives: the need to defend justice and the call to love our enemies. This tension becomes especially sharp when we compare Karl Popper’s Paradox of Tolerance with Jesus’ command to “turn the other cheek.”

At first glance, these two ideas seem incompatible.

Popper warned that if a society becomes endlessly tolerant, even of intolerance, it will eventually be destroyed by those very forces. Tolerance, to survive, must have boundaries. Intolerance must be resisted, even suppressed if necessary.

On the other hand, Jesus offers what seems like the opposite advice. In the Sermon on the Mount, he says: “If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” It’s a radical rejection of retaliation. It’s not just about forgiveness—it’s about refusing to return harm even when justified.

So how do we reconcile these two visions? How can we protect what is good without becoming what we oppose?

The Moral Tension

On a personal level, “turn the other cheek” is a deeply powerful ethic. It breaks the cycle of revenge. It disarms hatred with grace. It calls the oppressor to see the humanity of their victim. But on a systemic level, when entire communities or institutions are under threat, passivity can feel like complicity.

In my view, Popper isn’t advocating for vengeance. He’s warning against moral naiveté: if we fail to recognize the danger of unchecked hate, we may lose the very society that allowed us to value tolerance in the first place.

So here lies the moral paradox: If we want a society grounded in love, peace, and justice, are we allowed to defend it? And if so, how?

The Strategic Cheek

What if “turn the other cheek” isn’t just a call to be passive, but a deeply strategic act?

In Jesus’ time, a slap on the right cheek (with the right hand) was likely a backhanded slap—a gesture of insult and dominance. By turning the other cheek, the victim was not inviting more abuse, they were forcing the aggressor to strike differently, to acknowledge them not as a lesser being, but as an equal. It’s a form of nonviolent resistance.

This is echoed in the strategies of Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and other practitioners of civil disobedience. They resisted injustice not by ignoring it, but by refusing to mirror its violence. Their resistance was not passive; it was moral theater. It revealed the oppressor’s cruelty by refusing to play by their rules.

In this light, “turn the other cheek” is not about letting intolerance win. It’s about refusing to fight evil on its own terms, while still standing in its way.

Holding the Line Without Losing Ourselves

Maybe the reconciliation of Popper and Jesus lies here: We must resist intolerance, but we must do it in a way that doesn’t corrupt us. Violence and hate are contagious; they love to disguise themselves as justice.

To preserve a tolerant society, we must sometimes draw hard lines. But the manner in which we do so matters just as much as the outcome. If we fight evil with evil, we might win the battle but lose our soul.

What Jesus offers isn’t a loophole in the fight against injustice, but a compass. One that says: Don’t let the world’s brokenness dictate your character. You can stand firm without becoming hard. You can confront power without imitating its cruelty.

The world often tells us that we must choose between justice and compassion. Maybe the real revolution is refusing to let go of either.