The Wolf Within Us

By Aubaid Ahmad Akhoon

The wolf, a creature that has fascinated humanity for centuries, occupies a unique place in myth, folklore, and the natural world. It is at once feared and revered—cast as a cunning predator in old tales and celebrated as a symbol of loyalty, strength, and independence in cultural traditions. Its duality mirrors our own contradictions as human beings. And yet, beyond legend and fear, the wolf is a living testament to values that resonate deeply with our age of fragmentation: unity, integrity, freedom, loyalty, and remembrance. To understand the wolf is to hold up a mirror to ourselves, to discover lessons that transcend the wilderness.

At the heart of the wolf’s existence lies the pack. Far from the solitary hunter that popular imagination often conjures, wolves are intensely social creatures, bound by family ties. The pack operates as a single organism, led usually by an alpha pair—parents who guide not with tyranny but with responsibility, ensuring the survival of all. The young are nurtured with patience, the elderly given respect, and each member contributes to the shared mission of endurance. The strength of the wolf is never in isolation but in cooperation. In today’s world, where individualism is often prized above community, the wolf’s example carries a quiet rebuke. As families splinter and societies chase after self-interest, the wolf reminds us of the enduring strength in unity, of the profound resilience born from standing together.

The wolf’s independence is equally striking. No matter how much we attempt to tame it, captivity is anathema to this animal. A wolf caged is a wolf diminished, often refusing food, succumbing to depression, sometimes even to death. Its resistance is not simply animal instinct but a living metaphor for freedom. In an era where subtle and overt forms of control weigh heavily—whether political, economic, or social—the wolf’s uncompromising spirit reminds us of the cost of losing autonomy. The creature’s very existence demands that freedom is not a privilege but a necessity, as vital as air and water.

Even in the hunt, wolves reveal an ethic that transcends instinct. They prefer fresh prey, shunning carrion unless driven by desperation. In their hierarchy, breeding too is carefully regulated—only the alpha pair reproduces, avoiding the genetic risks of inbreeding. These patterns speak not merely of survival strategy but of integrity, of an instinctual respect for purity, order, and the future. Translated into human terms, the lesson is profound: integrity demands that our choices honor both the present and the generations to come. Just as the wolf safeguards the health of its lineage, we too are called to act responsibly, ensuring that today’s decisions do not compromise tomorrow’s possibilities.

Perhaps the most moving lesson comes from the wolf’s capacity for commitment. Wolves mate for life, forming bonds of remarkable devotion. When one partner dies, the surviving wolf often grieves for long periods, unwilling to replace the lost connection. Loyalty is not a convenience for them but a way of being. In a world where commitments can feel fragile, where relationships are increasingly tested by speed, distance, and distraction, the wolf’s unwavering dedication urges us to hold loyalty sacred. It is a reminder that love, when anchored in trust, can outlast even death.

Their grief, too, is strikingly human. When a pack member dies, wolves mourn openly. They howl in sorrow, linger near the site of death, or retreat into subdued silence. These acts mirror the rituals of human mourning, signaling an emotional depth we often underestimate in animals. At a time when society encourages quick recovery from loss, brushing aside grief as inefficiency, the wolf teaches a gentler truth: that remembrance is not weakness but strength, that mourning binds the living while honoring the departed.

The wolf’s symbolic power has ensured its presence across cultures. In the Arab world, it is known as Ibn al-Bar, the dutiful son, celebrated for caring for its aging parents. In Turkish traditions, it is admired for nobility and strength, with children encouraged to emulate the wolf’s loyalty and courage rather than the lion’s ferocity. In Kashmir, the wolf—shaal—is etched into language and idiom, a creature both respected and ridiculed in folklore. Proverbs capture its paradoxical role. “Shaal shaal biyoun biyoun tungi wiz kunniye”—wolves may appear separate, but when they raise their voices, they act as one—underscores unity in crisis. Another saying, “Shaal tsalith bathen chob”—the wolf escapes, and the man beats the ground—laments the futility of late action, echoing the English idiom “crying over spilled milk.”

Kashmiri folk culture also weaves satire through the image of the wolf. The taunt Shaala jamadari imagines wolves crowning one among them as leader, only for the chosen to perish when his crown prevents him from escaping a lion’s attack. It is a sharp metaphor for misplaced responsibility and the perils of symbolic leadership without accountability. Even the word shawl, sharing its root with shaal, carries its own cultural layering, denoting both fabric and history. Khwaja Sanaullah Shawl of Khanyar, dubbed Son e Shale, was among the wealthiest merchants of nineteenth-century Kashmir. His legacy is invoked mockingly today—“Zan Chu Su Son e Shale,” as though he were the Son e Shale of old—to lampoon arrogance or pretension. The wolf, in all these reflections, transcends biology; it is a lens through which human values, follies, and aspirations are examined.

The cumulative lesson from these cultural echoes is unmistakable: the wolf is never just predator. It is a figure of nobility, loyalty, independence, and even satire, a mirror of the best and worst in us. To dismiss it merely as a threat is to miss its symbolic force.

And perhaps this is the wolf’s greatest gift to us—a reminder that the values we so often claim to admire are not abstractions but ways of life, etched into nature itself. Loyalty, freedom, integrity, respect for family, remembrance of the dead—these are not luxuries but necessities, as essential to human survival as they are to the wolf’s. In looking at the wolf, we confront our own drift from these principles. Our hyper-individualism frays communities; our compromises erode integrity; our distractions dilute loyalty; our speed flattens grief. The wolf, steadfast in its instincts, urges us to reclaim what we risk forgetting.

The call, then, is not to romanticize the wolf but to heed its example. In its howl, there is the music of unity. In its refusal of captivity, a cry for freedom. In its loyalty to mate and pack, a lesson in love. In its mourning, an elegy for what we too must honor. To follow the wolf’s path is to rediscover a blueprint for living with dignity, responsibility, and compassion.

In the end, the wolf is more than symbol; it is guide. By embracing its values, we can craft a society that is not only strong but humane, a society where loyalty binds, integrity sustains, freedom empowers, and remembrance heals. The wolf does not merely survive—it shows us how to live.

The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions or views of this newspaper. The author can be reached at [email protected]