A half-man (or, rather, half-person) is not someone who does not have an opinion, just someone who does not take risks for it.
My greatest lesson in courage came from my father — as a child, I had admired him before for his erudition, but was not overly fazed since erudition on its own does not make a man. He had a large ego, immense dignity, and required respect. But he was once insulted by a militiaman at a road check during the Lebanese war. He refused to comply, and got angry at the militiaman for being disrespectful. As he drove away, the gunman shot him in the back. The bullet stayed in his chest for the rest of his life so he had to carry an X-ray through airport terminals. This set the bar very high for me: dignity is worth nothing unless you earn it, unless you are willing to pay a price for it.
A lesson I learned from this ancient culture is the notion of as Megalopsychon (a term expressed in Aristotle’s ethics), a sense of grandeur that got superseded by the Christian values of “humility”. There is no word for it in Romance languages; in Arabic it is called Shhm —best translated as nonsmall. If you take risks and face your fate with dignity, there is nothing you can do that makes you small; if you don’t take risks, there is nothing you can do that makes you grand, nothing. And when you take risks, insults by half-men (small men those who don’t risk) are similar to barks by nonhuman animals: you can’t feel insulted by a dog.