Let us imagine for a moment two restaurants.
In both, the dining room is clean and elegant and has a well-appointed appearance. But in one of them, behind that beautiful room, there is a clean kitchen and cooks who are healthy and conscientious; and in the other, behind that same well-appointed appearance, a dirty kitchen is hidden, and hands that keep no rule of hygiene.
From outside, the two look identical. But the difference between them is the difference between “authenticity” and “the keeping of appearances”; between one who truly believes in doing right and one who merely puts on a display of it.
The Global Rail Network does not wish to be that second restaurant. I do not wish to build a space that has only a well-appointed front but is inwardly empty of the very values it claims. For this reason we begin the work from within, not from without. Peace and friendship and human dignity we plant from the very root — not as slogans for advertisement, but as the foundation upon which this whole project is built — taking our inspiration from revelation and from divine wisdom, which hold these values to be no invention of ours but an ancient and sacred inheritance.
And this difference changes everything. For we do not advertise. I believe that a good work, like a pure jewel, like a work of art, or like a sweet perfume, finds its own place in people’s hearts; it has no need of proclamation. If this environment is truly sound and respectful, it will itself, without any shouting or advertising, leave its mark upon the soul of everyone who enters it.
And here we come to the most beautiful characteristic of this environment: an environment that teaches of itself.
Imagine an unknowing person entering this space without knowing anything beforehand about the rules of the place. He very soon perceives — not from warning notices and not from the mouths of officials, but from the space itself — that this is somewhere different.
Just as anyone entering a library instinctively lowers his voice; or entering a mosque, a church or a temple feels the sanctity of that place; or setting foot in a hospital understands that he must be quiet and considerate. These places do not shout their rules; they exude their sanctity, and a person perceives it of himself.
The calm environment of this network is likewise: a space that has its own dignity. A place where malice, violence and unbecoming conduct appear out of place and unacceptable, not through any outward compulsion, but through the very nature of the space itself.
Whoever enters soon perceives that unseemly behaviour, provocative dress, tobacco, alcohol, threats and aggression have no place in this space — not because a law frightens him, but because the space itself will not bear such a thing, just as no one shouts in a library.
But such an environment rests upon two supports.
The first is design: the network itself — from the architecture of the stations to the interior of the trains and the manner of its services — is so designed as to instil calm, dignity and respect, and to become itself an instrument for the respectful joining of human beings.
And the second is education: the staff of the network, before any passenger, will themselves be trained and committed to these values; for culture always begins with the conduct of the host, not with a reminder to the guest. If the staff behave with respect and calm and dignity, the same spirit spreads to the passengers.
And the training of the staff is not confined to manners of conduct. The attendants and the personnel of the network are trained also to meet emergency conditions: medical first aid, the right response when a passenger falls suddenly ill or meets with an accident, and the way of calming a space in moments of crisis.
They learn as well how to deal patiently and respectfully with passengers of various cultures and languages and beliefs, and to resolve any disagreements quietly before they grow. In this way the staff of the network are not only hosts, but supporters and helpers of the passengers — people whose very presence gives the traveller a feeling of safety and of calm. And the managers and heads of the various departments act in this same manner and with this same awareness.
And most important of all, the purpose of this dignity is not to restrict people but to set them free — free from tension, from insecurity, from disrespect. Whoever enters this space soon perceives how one may truly be at ease and take pleasure in an environment that is sound and friendly and filled with mutual respect.
This dignity is not a prison that takes away freedom; it is a garden in which people are safe from the pricking of thorns and can breathe freely.