INDIGNATION is a submission of our thoughts, but not our desires. These words from philosopher Bertrand Russell sprang to mind over the weekend as my social media feeds heaved with righteous anger against Donald Trump for launching missile strikes against Syrian government targets.

I was as surprised as everyone else at the speed by which the US president appeared to reverse his foreign policy direction from isolationist to interventionist, and in common with just about every other public pronouncement he has made in the last two years, I found both the content and delivery of his reasoning to be crass, confused and, at times, downright strange.

But if I’m honest I have no idea whether the strikes, said by Mr Trump to be in retaliation for chemical attack on civilians last week, is the right course of action or not. Will it help the brutalised people of Syria or make things even worse for them? The question makes my head hurt; the situation in Syria is so mindbogglingly wretched and complex that it could perceivably do both. Indeed, doubt and uncertainty are sometimes the only sureties in this theatre of villains.

After listening to an hour-long discussion on the radio where two former ambassadors to Syria calmly, articulately argued opposing views on the US strikes, I am no further forward. With this in mind, I have an admission to make: for the first time ever I can see two sides of a Trump policy.

I would imagine many folk feel similarly perplexed and overwhelmed by the enormousness of the tragedy in Syria, still no closer to a resolution despite countless UN resolutions and broken ceasefires. That’s the reason I was so surprised that so many people on my Facebook feed seemed so sure Mr Trump’s actions would bring about World War Three. I’m certainly no Trump fan, but the tone of some of this stuff was depressingly over the top and horribly full of glee as these armchair Middle East experts got stuck in with half-baked truths wrapped in the sort of zeal you’d instantly close the door on if it came knocking with a religious leaflet.

It reminded me of UKIP’s pre-EU referendum campaign and Mr Trump’s own hideous drive for the presidency. Such extreme fervour rarely makes for coherent political discourse, of course, but what concerns me most is the fact that normally quite sensible people seem all too willing to swallow conspiracy theories, historical inaccuracy and use the suffering of Syrians to point score against a president they don’t like.

Social media all but entreats us to take part in such behaviour, of course, to have an opinion and share it, to see things only in black and white, to unquestioningly “like” the posts of people we already agree with, to position ourselves in self-absorbed silos that blunt our critical faculties.

Now, however, in these strangest, most unsettling of times we must surely be wary of unquestioning loyalty to any position or cause. We have to try and stay sharp – and that means not only allowing ourselves to have doubt and uncertainty about opinions and positions held by ourselves and others, but encouraging and even welcoming the inquiry that comes with it. Without it, we risk becoming just as zealous as the zealots.

And sometimes that will mean allowing yourself to agree – if only partially - with people you normally despise. Even Donald Trump. That’s not to say I condone his missile strikes in Syria. It’s just that I don’t know that I outright condemn them either.

Speaking of Syria - and Mr Trump - I will end on a quote borrowed from the bible, by way of Pulp Fiction: “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men.” Depressingly relevant doesn’t even cover it.