Occupied by Silence
In college, I took a course called Genocide in the Twentieth Century. And as you can image, the class spent a good deal of time on Holocaust. We studied other genocides but that is the only one I remember, maybe because we studied it last or because I had already studied it in high school or because of its shear scale. One the final exam, there was one question that I know I didn’t answer fully, that left me wondering and with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. The gist of it was this: was the Holocaust a particular evil that will never be repeated and can we even compare other genocides to it? I’m quite sure I gave that pat answer of that is why we study history, to prevent something like this from happening again and of course we wouldn’t let it. Of course not, we know too much to let it.
But I think I knew the truth then — that the Holocaust, as unimaginably horrific (and really I struggle to find the words to convey the horror) evil, was a hell on earth perpetrated by ordinary men and women like you and me. That is a very uncomfortable fact. I believe there is no culture or religion — or even experience - that spares us from the worst of our very human nature. Things like moral outrage and moral indignation can be agents of positive change and they can also be weaponized and serve as the tinderbox for man’s inhumanity to man. Bias is endemic to the human condition (so you can call out my bias, and you will not be wrong). I believe it can be overcome, but we first have to recognize it in ourselves (as opposed to pointing it out so readily in other people).
To state the obvious, the Israell-Hamas war (is this what we are calling it?) has been gut wrenching to pay attention to, and this feeling is made worse by the fact that I have been afraid to say anything out loud about it, afraid I will come across as legitimizing one party’s pain over the other, of inadvertently offending a good friend, as I know I have done in the past, in posting my opinions and feelings. There are people who will be offended that I even suggest there are two sides, who’s side am I on anyway? Perhaps I should say nothing and keep my nose out of it.
The reason I’m choosing to write on the topic is this very fear of saying something, the silence that has descended. Part of me thinks perhaps there are times when it is wise to keep one’s mouth shut. Does everyone really need to know what I’m thinking all the time? At certain point, aren’t my thoughts and opinions a form of pollution?
But I have entered the phase in this war, in my spectator role, where I am numb to the deaths. At first I cried, I raged, but now I shrug. Like staring at the sun, watching unimaginable violence unfold at a certain point is blinding. I get back to minding my business.
And now I know. This is how it happens.
