LAST week, in a live television interview, Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd could barely contain his emotion as he talked about the loss of life caused by the bushfires that ravaged parts of his country. He described the ferocity of the flames as "hell on earth".

The imagery conjured up by that phrase is frightening. We all understand exactly the gravity of what he is describing. Hundreds died. They were people like us; living in a First World country, watching the same TV shows that we do, watching the same movies, speaking the same language, and wearing the same types of clothes that we do.

Their sons and daughters could be our sons and daughters. Their parents are like our parents. So, when they hurt, we share that pain, immensely, deeply. We want to hear their stories; of their survival, of their loss, of their pain, as though somehow, by knowing it, we could help them ease it.

But we don't feel like that about all people. What of those who live in the Third World countries? They have their own TV shows. They have their own movies. They speak a different language. They wear different clothes from us.

It's true for all people, all over the world. Jews naturally empathise with other Jews. Christians naturally empathise with other Christians. Muslims naturally empathise with other Muslims. Children naturally empathise with other children, whites with other whites, blacks with other blacks, Republicans with Conservatives, Democrats with Liberals – like with like; a Noah's Ark of empathy.

In recent weeks, I've been criticised by some because I have empathised with the people of Palestine. I've been accused of being anti-Semitic, an Islamist and much more. I understand now, though, that those accusations are not because I am any of those, but it is because those who have accused me have not felt empathy with the suffering of the Palestinians, because they do not have anything in common with them.

Perhaps I, too, have fallen victim to that same empathy bias. Perhaps I, too, have been blinded to the suffering of the people of Israel.

Perhaps I, too, have not felt sympathy for the deaths of three Israeli civilians as compared to the deaths of 412 Palestinian children.

The Lord of all the Worlds has no such bias. In the Koran, the words of God are simple; taking the life of one innocent soul is equal to taking the life of every innocent soul on Earth.

And for falling into the trap of comparing numbers, I ask forgiveness.

How we empathise with others is how, I believe, we can gauge our own tolerance of others. Do we truly consider others equal to us? Is all life truly sacred? Do we truly understand the plight of others?

Our biggest fear here is getting a speeding ticket as we cruise in our cars to and from work. Their biggest fear is that the tank that has just left will turn around and come back.

The extremists, the fanatics, the dictators and the terrorists, all those who advocate violence to achieve their own aims – are they not just far further down the road of intolerance that we, by our lack of empathy, have only just begun to travel?