"And now I also know what it is to be charged with mass guilt"
I think one of the most important questions posed by Milosz and discussed by Fiut is the question of what somone living in an oppressive state is obligated to do. Are we obligated to become martyrs, to stand up for the Good, the Right, and the True even though we know it's suicidal? Ought we mimic Fiut's own professor, focusing on our own , uncontroversial work, using the language of the oppressors when necessary? Perhaps we should take the route of Milosz, and defect, or follow the example of Agnieszka's family and contribute what we can to the underground opposition while speaking the Truth at home as well. Should we "[keep] one hand on Marx's writings, [reading] the Bible in private"? Is there a best way, or a moral way to live in these circumstances? What would I have chosen in the place of those who had to make these decisions?
I don't think these are idle questions. Even if, God willing, I never live in a totalitarian state, there are still (many) times when I feel my government is acting immorally, and I question what my obligation to stand up for what I believe in is. There's a Pete Seeger song, taken from a woman's testimony before Congress during the time of the Vietnam War, that touches on a lot of these questions. Since I suspect this crowd is at least slightly less folky than I am, I've included the lyrics below:
LISA KALVELAGE
My name is Lisa Kalvelage, I was born in Nuremberg
And when the trials were held there nineteen years ago
It seemed to me ridiculous to hold a nation all to blame
For the horrors that the world did undergo
A short while later when I applied to be a G. I. bride
An American consular official questioned me
He refused my exit permit, said my answers did not show
I'd learned my lesson about responsibility.
Thus suddenly I was forced to start thinking on this theme
And when later I was permitted to emigrate
I must have been asked a hundred times where I was and what I did
In those years when Hitler ruled our state
I said I was a child or at most a teen-ager
But that only extended the questioning
They'd ask, where were my parents, my father, my mother
And to this I could answer not a thing.
The seed planted there at Nuremberg in 1947
Started to sprout and to grow
Gradually I understood what that verdict meant to me
When there are crimes that I can see and I can know
And now I also know what it is to be charged with mass guilt
Once in a lifetime is enough for me
No, I could not take it for a second time
And that is why I am here today.
The events of May 25th, the day of our protest,
Put a small balance weight on the other side
Hopefully, someday my contribution to peace
Will help just a bit to turn the tide
And perhaps I can tell my children six
And later on their own children
That at least in the future they need not be silent
When they are asked, "Where was your mother, when?"
Words adapted and Music by Pete Seeger (1972)
(c) 1966 by Sanga Music Inc.
I don't think these are idle questions. Even if, God willing, I never live in a totalitarian state, there are still (many) times when I feel my government is acting immorally, and I question what my obligation to stand up for what I believe in is. There's a Pete Seeger song, taken from a woman's testimony before Congress during the time of the Vietnam War, that touches on a lot of these questions. Since I suspect this crowd is at least slightly less folky than I am, I've included the lyrics below:
LISA KALVELAGE
My name is Lisa Kalvelage, I was born in Nuremberg
And when the trials were held there nineteen years ago
It seemed to me ridiculous to hold a nation all to blame
For the horrors that the world did undergo
A short while later when I applied to be a G. I. bride
An American consular official questioned me
He refused my exit permit, said my answers did not show
I'd learned my lesson about responsibility.
Thus suddenly I was forced to start thinking on this theme
And when later I was permitted to emigrate
I must have been asked a hundred times where I was and what I did
In those years when Hitler ruled our state
I said I was a child or at most a teen-ager
But that only extended the questioning
They'd ask, where were my parents, my father, my mother
And to this I could answer not a thing.
The seed planted there at Nuremberg in 1947
Started to sprout and to grow
Gradually I understood what that verdict meant to me
When there are crimes that I can see and I can know
And now I also know what it is to be charged with mass guilt
Once in a lifetime is enough for me
No, I could not take it for a second time
And that is why I am here today.
The events of May 25th, the day of our protest,
Put a small balance weight on the other side
Hopefully, someday my contribution to peace
Will help just a bit to turn the tide
And perhaps I can tell my children six
And later on their own children
That at least in the future they need not be silent
When they are asked, "Where was your mother, when?"
Words adapted and Music by Pete Seeger (1972)
(c) 1966 by Sanga Music Inc.
1 Comments:
At July 20, 2004 at 12:08 PM, ProfPTJ said…
It's a good question, or set of questions -- and as you note not specific to life under a totalitarian regime.
The problem of resistance is a troubling one, I think, as long as it is raised to an absolute ethical question (the ethical is the universal, Hegel argued, and Kierkegaard ironically kept repeating) -- as though there were final answers to these things. What is fascinating about Lisa Kalvelage (who has been invoked a lot lately; see, for instance, this protest document connected to a demonstration in Prague last year) is that she drew a particular lesson from a bad experience with US immigration, and then harnessed it for present political purposes. So she "learned" that silence was complicity, and others "learned" that from her. But this "learning" remains creative and productive, and can't be a firm ground on which to base things and get one's own responsibility for the position out of the way.
I think that I know myself well enough to conclude that I would have gotten myself deported as a reactionary if I had stayed in occupied Poland. Preserving the truth in private is a worthy endeavor, I think, but I probably would have chosen exile. And I can imagine having to make that decision if the US -- which I have always maintained is about one step away from a particularly nasty religious dictatorship, as brilliantly forecast by Robert Heinlein in If This Goes On… -- goes down a particular path. Intellectual consistency is far too important to me, I think.
I would not make a good conspirator. Let me go and organize for the cause in exile instead.
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