na zona gris

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‘Na Zona Gris. Slavoj Žižek sobre as respostas aos asasinatos de París’

‘In the Grey Zone. Slavoj Žižek on responses to the Paris killings’

a fórmula de identificación patética ‘Eu son ...’ (ou ‘Todos somos ...’) só funciona dentro de certos límites, fóra dos cales se transforma nunha obscenidade. Podemos proclamar ‘je suis Charlie’, pero as cousas comezan a derrubarse con exemplos como ‘todos nós vivimos en Saraievo!’ ou ‘estamos todos en Gaza!’. O feito brutal de que non estamos todos en Saraievo ou Gaza é moi forte para ser encuberta por unha identificación patética. Esa identificación convértese en obscena, no caso dos Muselmänner, os mortos vivos en Auschwitz. Non se pode dicir: ‘todos somos Muselmänner!’ En Auschwitz, a deshumanización das vítimas foi tan lonxe que identificarse con elas en calquera sentido significativo é imposible. (E, na dirección oposta, tamén sería ridículo declarar solidariedade coas vítimas do 11–S, alegando que ‘todos somos de Nova York!’. Millóns dirían: ‘Si, encantaríanos ser neoiorquinos, conséguenos un visado!’)

The formula of pathetic identification ‘I am …’ (or ‘We are all …’) only functions within certain limits, beyond which it turns into obscenity. We can proclaim ‘Je suis Charlie,’ but things start to crumble with examples like ‘We all live in Sarajevo!’ or ‘We are all in Gaza!’ The brutal fact that we are not all in Sarajevo or Gaza is too strong to be covered up by a pathetic identification. Such identification becomes obscene in the case of Muselmänner, the living dead in Auschwitz. It is not possible to say: ‘We are all Muselmänner!’ In Auschwitz, the dehumanisation of victims went so far that identifying with them in any meaningful sense is impossible. (And, in the opposite direction, it would also be ridiculous to declare solidarity with the victims of 9/11 by claiming ‘We are all New Yorkers!’ Millions would say: ‘Yes, we would love to be New Yorkers, give us a visa!’)

o mesmo vale para os asasinatos do mes pasado: era relativamente doado identificarse cos xornalistas de Charlie Hebdo, pero sería moito máis difícil anunciar: ‘Somos todos de Baga!’ (Para quen non o saiba: Baga é unha pequena cidade no NE de Nixeria, onde Boko Haram executou a dúas mil persoas). ‘Boko Haram’ pódese traducir por ‘a educación occidental está prohibida’, especialmente a mulleres. Como explicar o estraño feito dun movemento sociopolítico masivo cuxo obxectivo principal é a regulación xerárquica da relación entre os sexos? Por que os musulmáns, que foron, sen dúbida, expostos á explotación, dominación e outros aspectos destrutivos e humillantes do colonialismo, atacan, na súa resposta, o mellor (para nós, polo menos) do legado occidental, a nosa crenza na igualdade e nas liberdades individuais, incluíndo a liberdade de mofarse de todas as autoridades? Unha resposta é que o seu obxectivo está ben escollido: o Occidente liberal resulta tan insoportable non só porque practica a explotación e dominación violenta, senón que presenta esa realidade brutal baixo o disfrace de seu oposto: liberdade, igualdade e democracia.

The same goes for the killings last month: it was relatively easy to identify with the Charlie Hebdo journalists, but it would have been much more difficult to announce: ‘We are all from Baga!’ (For those who don’t know: Baga is a small town in the north-east of Nigeria where Boko Haram executed two thousand people). The name ‘Boko Haram’ can be roughly translated as ‘Western education is forbidden,’ specifically the education of women. How to account for the weird fact of a massive sociopolitical movement whose main aim is the hierarchic regulation of the relationship between the sexes? Why do Muslims who were undoubtedly exposed to exploitation, domination and other destructive and humiliating aspects of colonialism, target in their response the best part (for us, at least) of the Western legacy, our egalitarianism and personal freedoms, including the freedom to mock all authorities? One answer is that their target is well chosen: the liberal West is so unbearable because it not only practises exploitation and violent domination, but presents this brutal reality in the guise of its opposite: freedom, equality and democracy.

volvendo ao espectáculo dos grandes políticos de todo o mundo da man en solidariedade coas vítimas dos asasinatos en París, desde Cameron a Lavrov, desde Netanyahu a Abbas: se existiu algunha vez unha foto da falsidade hipócrita, foi esa. Un cidadán anónimo interpretou a ‘Oda á Alegría’ de Beethoven, o himno non oficial da Unión Europea, mentres a procesión pasaba baixo a súa fiestra, engadindo un toque de kitsch política ao noxento espectáculo representado polos máximos responsables da desorde en que estamos. Se o ministro de Exteriores ruso, Sergei Lavrov, se unise a unha marcha semellante en Moscova, onde foron asasinados ducias de xornalistas, sería inmediatamente detido. E o espectáculo foi unha representación, literalmente: as imaxes mostradas nos medios daban a impresión de que a ringleira de líderes políticos ía precedida dunha gran multitude camiñando ao longo dunha avenida. Pero tirouse outra foto da escena desde arriba, mostrando claramente que detrás dos políticos había só un centenar de persoas e un enorme espazo baleiro, escoltados pola policía, por detrás e arredor deles. O verdadeiro xesto ‘Charlie Hebdo’ sería  publicar na súa primeira páxina unha gran caricatura que se mofase dese acontecemento, nun ton brutal e carente de gusto.

Back to the spectacle of big political names from all around the world holding hands in solidarity with the victims of the Paris killings, from Cameron to Lavrov, from Netanyahu to Abbas: if there was ever an image of hypocritical falsity, this was it. An anonymous citizen played Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’, the unofficial anthem of the European Union, as the procession passed under his window, adding a touch of political kitsch to the disgusting spectacle staged by the people most responsible for the mess we are in. If the Russian foreign minister, Sergei Lavrov, were to join such a march in Moscow, where dozens of journalists have been murdered, he would be arrested immediately. And the spectacle was literally staged: the pictures shown in the media gave the impression that the line of political leaders was at the front of a large crowd walking along an avenue. But another photo was taken of the entire scene from above, clearly showing that behind the politicians there were only a hundred or so people and a lot of empty space, patrolled by police, behind and around them. The true Charlie Hebdo gesture would have been to publish on its front page a big caricature brutally and tastelessly mocking this event.

xunto aos banners co lema ‘Je suis Charlie!’ había outros con aquilo de ‘Je suis flic’. A unidade nacional celebrada e posta en escena mediante grandes reunións públicas non era só a unidade do pobo, incluíndo grupos étnicos, clases e relixións mais tamén a unidade do pobo coas forzas da orde e control – non só a policía, mais tamén o CRS (un dos lemas de maio de 1968 foi ‘CRS-SS’), o servizo secreto e todo o aparato de seguridade do Estado. Non hai lugar para Snowden ou Manning neste novo universo. ‘O resentimento contra a policía non é o que era, excepto entre os mozos pobres de orixe árabe ou africana,’ escribiu Jacques-Alain Miller o mes pasado. ‘Algo, sen dúbida, nunca antes visto na historia de Francia’. En resumo, os ataques terroristas lograron o imposible: conciliar a xeración de 68 co seu arqui-inimigo en algo así como unha versión popular á francesa da ‘Patriot Act’, coa xente ofrecéndose para exercer funcións de vixilancia.

As well as the banners saying ‘Je suis Charlie!’ there were others that said ‘Je suis flic!’ The national unity celebrated and enacted in large public gatherings was not just the unity of the people, reaching across ethnic groups, classes and religions, but also the unification of the people with the forces of order and control – not only the police but also the CRS (one of the slogans of May 1968 was ‘CRS-SS’), the secret service and the entire state security apparatus. There is no place for Snowden or Manning in this new universe. ‘Resentment against the police is no longer what it was, except among poor youth of Arab or African origins,’ Jacques-Alain Miller wrote last month. ‘A thing undoubtedly never seen in the history of France.’ In short, the terrorist attacks achieved the impossible: to reconcile the generation of 68 with its arch enemy in something like a French popular version of the Patriot Act, with people offering themselves up to surveillance.

os momentos de éxtase nas manifestacións de París foron un triunfo da ideoloxía: uniron a xente contra un inimigo cuxa presenza fascinante momentaneamente extingue todo antagonismo. Ao público ofrecéuselle unha escolla deprimente: ou es flic ou terrorista. Pero como encaixa o humor irreverente de Charlie Hebdo? Para responder a esta pregunta, necesitamos ter presente a interconexión entre o Decálogo e dos dereitos humanos, que, como argumentaron Kenneth Reinhard e Julia Reinhard Lupton, son, en definitiva, dereitos para violar os Dez Mandamentos. O dereito á vida privada equivale ao dereito de cometer adulterio. O dereito á propiedade ao dereito de roubar (explotar outros). O dereito á liberdade de expresión ao dereito de falsa testemuña. O dereito de portar armas ao dereito de matar. O dereito á liberdade de crenza relixiosa ao dereito de adorar falsos deuses. Por suposto, os dereitos humanos non condonan directamente a violación dos Mandamentos, pero manteñen aberta unha zona gris marxinal que se supón fóra do alcance do poder (relixioso ou secular). Nesta zona de sombra podo violar os mandamentos, e se o poder pescuda nel, e me pilla cos pantalóns noso pés, podo berrar: ‘atentan contra os meus dereitos humanos básicos’. A cuestión é que é estruturalmente imposible, para o poder, trazar unha liña clara de separación e evitar só o uso indebido dun dereito humano sen infrinxir o uso adecuado, é dicir, o uso que non viole os Mandamentos.

The ecstatic moments of the Paris demonstrations were a triumph of ideology: they united the people against an enemy whose fascinating presence momentarily obliterates all antagonisms. The public was offered a depressing choice: you are either a flic or a terrorist. But how does the irreverent humour of Charlie Hebdo fit in? To answer this question, we need to bear in mind the interconnection between the Decalogue and human rights, which, as Kenneth Reinhard and Julia Reinhard Lupton have argued, are ultimately rights to violate the Ten Commandments. The right to privacy is a right to commit adultery. The right to own property is a right to steal (to exploit others). The right to freedom of expression is a right to bear false witness. The right to bear arms is a right to kill. The right to freedom of religious belief is a right to worship false gods. Of course, human rights do not directly condone the violation of the Commandments, but they keep open a marginal grey zone that is supposed to be out of the reach of (religious or secular) power. In this shady zone I can violate the commandments, and if the power probes into it, catching me with my pants down, I can cry: ‘Assault on my basic human rights!’ The point is that it is structurally impossible, for the power, to draw a clear line of separation and prevent only the misuse of a human right without infringing on its proper use, i.e. the use that does not violate the Commandments.

é nesta zona gris á que pertence o humor brutal de Charlie Hebdo. A revista botou a andar en 1970 como sucesora de Hara-Kiri, unha revista proscrita por mofarse da morte do xeneral de Gaulle. Logo de que a carta dun lector acusara a Hara-Kiri de ser ‘burda e desagradable’ (‘bête et méchant’), a frase foi adoptada como lema oficial da revista e fíxose de uso cotiá. Sería máis apropiado para os miles que se manifestaron en París proclamar ‘Je suis bête et méchant’ en lugar do simple ‘Je suis Charlie’.

It is in this grey zone that the brutal humour of Charlie Hebdo belongs. The magazine began in 1970 as a successor to Hara-Kiri, a magazine banned for mocking the death of General de Gaulle. After an early reader’s letter accused Hara-Kiri of being ‘dumb and nasty’ (‘bête et méchant’), the phrase was adopted as the magazine’s official slogan and made it into everyday language. It would have been more appropriate for the thousands marching in Paris to proclaim ‘Je suis bête et méchant’ than the flat Je suis Charlie.’

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refrescante en ocasións, a postura do Charlie Hebdo ‘bête et méchant’ está limitada polo feito de que a risa por si non é liberadora, mais fondamente ambigua. Na visión popular da Grecia Antiga, hai un contraste entre os solemnes aristocráticas espartanos e os alegres demócratas atenienses. Pero os espartanos, que se compracían da súa gravidade, puxeron a risa no centro da súa ideoloxía e práctica: recoñeceron a risa comunal como un poder que axudou a aumentar a gloria do estado. A risa espartana – a burla brutal dun inimigo ou escravo humillado, burlándose do seu medo e dor desde unha posición de poder – atopou eco nos discursos de Stalin, cando se mofou do pánico e a confusión dos ‘traidores’; e sobrevive até hoxe. (De feito, hai que distinguila doutro tipo de risa dos que están no poder, a do escarnio cínico que demostra que non toman en serio a súa propia ideoloxía). O problema co humor de Charlie Hebdo non é que foi lonxe de máis na súa irreverencia senón que era un exceso inofensivo que encaixaba no funcionamento cínico e hexemónico da ideoloxía nas nosas sociedades. Non representaba ameaza algunha aos instalados no poder; só fixo o seu exercicio do poder máis tolerable.

Refreshing as it could be in some situations, Charlie Hebdo’s ‘bête et méchant’ stance is constrained by the fact that laughter is not in itself liberating, but deeply ambiguous. In the popular view of Ancient Greece, there is a contrast between the solemn aristocratic Spartans and the merry democratic Athenians. But the Spartans, who prided themselves on their severity, placed laughter at the centre of their ideology and practice: they recognised communal laughter as a power that helped to increase the glory of the state. Spartan laughter – the brutal mockery of a humiliated enemy or slave, making fun of their fear and pain from a position of power – found an echo in Stalin’s speeches, when he scoffed at the panic and confusion of ‘traitors’, and survives today. (Incidentally, it is to be distinguished from another kind of laughter of those in power, the cynical derision that shows they don’t take their own ideology seriously). The problem with Charlie Hebdo’s humour is not that it went too far in its irreverence, but that it was a harmless excess perfectly fitting the hegemonic cynical functioning of ideology in our societies. It posed no threat whatsoever to those in power; it merely made their exercise of power more tolerable.

nas sociedades liberais e seculares de Occidente, o poder do Estado protexe as liberdades públicas, pero intervén no espazo privado – cando hai unha sospeita de abuso de menores, por exemplo. Pero, como escribe Talal Asad en é laica a crítica? A blasfemia, as inxurias e liberdade de expresión (2009), ‘as intrusións no espazo doméstico, a rotura dos dominios ‘privados’, non se admite na lei islámica, aínda que a conformidade no comportamento ‘público’ pode ser moito máis rigorosa ... para a comunidade, o que importa é a práctica social do suxeito musulmán – incluíndo a publicación verbal – e non os seus pensamentos internos, sexan os que sexan’. O Corán di: ‘Deixade ter fe a quen desexe, e ao que desexe rexeitala’. Pero, en verbas de Asad, ‘este dereito a pensar o que se desexe non … inclúe o dereito de expresar as súas crenzas relixiosas ou morais publicamente coa intención de converter a xente a un falso compromiso’. É por iso que, para os musulmáns, ‘é imposible de permanecer en silencio ante unha blasfemia ... a blasfemia non é nin ‘liberdade de expresión’, nin o reto dunha nova realidade, mais algo que busca perturbar unha relación viva’. Desde o punto de vista liberal occidental, hai un problema con ambos termos deste nin – nin: e se a liberdade de expresión debe incluír actos que poidan perturbar unha relación viva? E se unha ‘nova realidade’ ten o mesmo efecto perturbador? E se unha nova conciencia ética fai parecer inxusta unha relación viva?

In Western liberal-secular societies, state power protects public freedoms but intervenes in private space – when there is a suspicion of child abuse, for example. But as Talal Asad writes in Is Critique Secular? Blasphemy, Injury and Free Speech (2009), ‘intrusions into domestic space, the breaching of “private” domains, is disallowed in Islamic law, although conformity in “public” behaviour may be much stricter … for the community, what matters is the Muslim subject’s social practice – including verbal publication – not her internal thoughts, whatever they may be.’ The Quran says: ‘Let him who wills have faith, and him who wills reject it.’ But, in Asad’s words, this ‘right to think whatever one wishes does not … include the right to express one’s religious or moral beliefs publicly with the intention of converting people to a false commitment’. This is why, for Muslims, ‘it is impossible to remain silent when confronted with blasphemy … blasphemy is neither “freedom of speech” nor the challenge of a new truth but something that seeks to disrupt a living relationship.’ From the Western liberal standpoint, there is a problem with both terms of this neither/nor: what if freedom of speech should include acts that may disrupt a living relationship? And what if a ‘new truth’ has the same disruptive effect? What if a new ethical awareness makes a living relationship appear unjust?

se, para os musulmáns, non é só ‘imposible de permanecer en silencio ante unha blasfemia’, mais tamén imposible permanecer inactivos –e a presión para facer algo pode incluír actos violentos e asasinatos–, entón a primeira cousa que facer é situar esa actitude no seu contexto contemporáneo. O mesmo vale para o movemento cristián anti-aborto, que tamén cre que é ‘imposible permanecer en silencio ante a morte de centos de miles de fetos todos os anos’, unha masacre que comparan ao Holocausto. É aquí que comeza a verdadeira tolerancia: a tolerancia do que experimentamos como imposible-de-soportar (‘l'impossible-a-supporter’, como di Lacan), e, a este nivel a esquerda liberal está próxima ao fundamentalismo relixioso coa súa propia lista de cousas ante as que é ‘imposible permanecer en silencio’: o sexismo, o racismo e outras formas de intolerancia. Que sucedería se unha revista fixera humor abertamente co Holocausto? Hai unha contradición na postura liberal de esquerda: a posición libertaria de ironía universal e burla, satirizando a todas as autoridades, espirituais e políticas (a posición incorporada en Charlie Hebdo), tende a escorregar no seu oposto, unha sensibilidade maior á dor e humillación do outro.

If, for Muslims, it is not only ‘impossible to remain silent when confronted with blasphemy’ but also impossible to remain inactive – and the pressure to do something may include violent and murderous acts – then the first thing to do is to locate this attitude in its contemporary context. The same holds for the Christian anti-abortion movement, who also find it ‘impossible to remain silent’ in the face of the deaths of hundreds of thousands of foetuses every year, a slaughter they compare to the Holocaust. It is here that true tolerance begins: the tolerance of what we experience as impossible-to-bear (l’impossible-a-supporter’, as Lacan put it), and at this level the liberal left comes close to religious fundamentalism with its own list of things it’s ‘impossible to remain silent when confronted with’: sexism, racism and other forms of intolerance. What would happen if a magazine openly made fun of the Holocaust? There is a contradiction in the left-liberal stance: the libertarian position of universal irony and mockery, making fun of all authorities, spiritual and political (the position embodied in Charlie Hebdo), tends to slip into its opposite, a heightened sensitivity to the other’s pain and humiliation.

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é por mor desa contradición que a maioría das reaccións de esquerda ante os asasinatos de París seguiu un esquema deplorable e predicible: sospeitaron, de maneira correcta, que hai un grave erro no espectáculo do consenso liberal e a solidariedade coas vítimas, pero tomou un rumbo errado coa condena dos asasinatos; despois de longas e aburridas disquisicións. O temor a ser, ao condenar claramente os asasinatos, dalgún xeito culpables de islamofobia, é política e eticamente correcto. Non hai nada islamofóbico na condena dos asasinatos de París, do mesmo xeito que non hai nada de antisemita na condena do tratamento dos palestinos que leva a cabo Israel.

It is because of this contradiction that most left-wing reactions to the Paris killings followed a predictable, deplorable pattern: they correctly suspected that something is deeply wrong in the spectacle of liberal consensus and solidarity with the victims, but took a wrong turn when they were able to condemn the killings only after long and boring qualifications. The fear that, by clearly condemning the killing, we will somehow be guilty of Islamophobia, is politically and ethically wrong. There is nothing Islamophobic in condemning the Paris killings, in the same way that there is nothing anti-Semitic in condemning Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians.

en canto á noción de que temos que contextualizar e ‘comprender’ os asasinatos de París, tamén é totalmente enganosa. En Frankenstein, Mary Shelley fai que o monstro fale por si mesmo. A súa elección expresa a actitude liberal de liberdade de expresión na súa forma máis radical: deben ser escoitados os puntos de vista de todos. En Frankenstein, o monstro está totalmente subxectivizado: o asasino monstruoso revélase como un individuo profundamente ferido e desesperado, ansioso por atopar compaña e amor. Hai, con todo, un límite claro a este procedemento: canto máis sei e ‘entendo’ sobre Hitler, máis imperdoable me parece.

As for the notion that we should contextualise and ‘understand’ the Paris killings, it is also totally misleading. In Frankenstein, Mary Shelley allows the monster to speak for himself. Her choice expresses the liberal attitude to freedom of speech at its most radical: everyone’s point of view should be heard. In Frankenstein, the monster is fully subjectivised: the monstrous murderer reveals himself to be a deeply hurt and desperate individual, yearning for company and love. There is, however, a clear limit to this procedure: the more I know about and ‘understand’ Hitler, the more unforgiveable he seems.

o que tamén significa isto é que, cando se trata o conflito israelo-palestino, debémonos ater aos estándares crueis e fríos: debemos resistir incondicionalmente a tentación de ‘comprender’ o antisemitismo árabe (onde realmente o atopemos) como unha reacción ‘natural’ á triste situación dos palestinos, ou a ‘entender’ as medidas israelís como unha reacción ‘natural’ á memoria do Holocausto. Non debe haber ‘comprensión’ para o feito de que en moitos países árabes Hitler aínda é considerado un heroe, e os nenos na escola primaria son educados con mitos antisemitas, como que os xudeus usan o sangue de nenos para facer sacrificios rituais. Afirmar que este antisemitismo articula, nun modo desprazado, a resistencia contra o capitalismo, non o xustifica de ningunha maneira (o mesmo vale para o antisemitismo nazi: el tamén tirou a súa enerxía da resistencia anti-capitalista). O desprazamento non é aquí unha operación secundaria, mais o xesto fundamental da mistificación ideolóxica. O que implica esta afirmación é a idea de que, a longo prazo, a única forma de combater o antisemitismo non é predicar a tolerancia liberal, mais articular o motivo anticapitalista subxacente de forma directa, non-desprazada.

What this also means is that, when approaching the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, we should stick to ruthless and cold standards: we should unconditionally resist the temptation to ‘understand’ Arabic anti-Semitism (where we really encounter it) as a ‘natural’ reaction to the sad plight of the Palestinians, or to ‘understand’ Israeli measures as a ‘natural’ reaction to the memory of the Holocaust. There should be no ‘understanding’ for the fact that in many Arab countries Hitler is still considered a hero, and children at primary school are taught anti-Semitic myths, such as that Jews use the blood of children for sacrificial purposes. To claim that this anti-Semitism articulates, in a displaced mode, resistance against capitalism in no way justifies it (the same goes for Nazi anti-Semitism: it too drew its energy from anti-capitalist resistance). Displacement is not here a secondary operation, but the fundamental gesture of ideological mystification. What this claim does involve is the idea that, in the long term, the only way to fight anti-Semitism is not to preach liberal tolerance, but to articulate the underlying anti-capitalist motive in a direct, non-displaced way.

as actuais accións das Forzas de Defensa de Israel en Cisxordania non deben ser xulgadas en función do Holocausto; as profanacións de sinagogas en Francia e noutros países de Europa non deben ser xulgadas como unha reacción inadecuada, pero comprensible, ante o que Israel está facendo en Cisxordania. Cando calquera protesta pública contra Israel é categoricamente denunciada como unha expresión de antisemitismo –é dicir, cando a sombra do Holocausto é permanentemente evocada para neutralizar calquera crítica as operación militares e políticas israelís– non é suficiente insistir na diferenza entre o antisemitismo e as críticas ás políticas particulares do estado de Israel; hai que dar un paso adiante e dicir que é o Estado de Israel quen, neste caso, está profanando a memoria das vítimas do Holocausto, instrumentalizándoas como unha forma de lexitimar medidas políticas no presente. E isto significa que se debe rexeitar categoricamente a noción de calquera conexión lóxica ou política entre o Holocausto e as actuais tensións entre israelís e palestinos. Son dous fenómenos ben diferentes: un deles é parte da historia europea de resistencia dereitista á dinámica da modernización; o outro é un dos últimos capítulos da historia da colonización.

The present actions of the Israel Defence Forces in the West Bank should not be judged against the background of the Holocaust; the desecration of synagogues in France and elsewhere in Europe should not be judged as an inappropriate but understandable reaction to what Israel is doing in the West Bank. When any public protest against Israel is flatly denounced as an expression of anti-Semitism – that is to say, when the shadow of the Holocaust is permanently evoked in order to neutralise any criticism of Israeli military and political operations – it is not enough to insist on the difference between anti-Semitism and criticism of particular policies of the state of Israel; one should go a step further and say that it is the state of Israel which, in this case, is desecrating the memory of Holocaust victims, instrumentalising them as a way to legitimise political measures in the present. What this means is that one should flatly reject the notion of any logical or political link between the Holocaust and current Israeli-Palestinian tensions. They are two thoroughly different phenomena: one of them is part of the European history of rightist resistance to the dynamics of modernisation; the other is one of the last chapters in the history of colonisation.

o aumento do antisemitismo en Europa é innegable. Cando, por exemplo, a agresiva  minoría musulmá de Malmö acosa xudeus para que teñan medo de andar polas rúas en traxes tradicionais, debe ser clara e inequivocamente condenada. A loita contra o antisemitismo e a loita contra a islamofobia deben ser vistas como dous aspectos da mesma loita.

The growth of anti-Semitism in Europe is undeniable. When, for example, the aggressive Muslim minority in Malmö harasses Jews so they are afraid to walk the streets in traditional dress, it should be clearly and unambiguously condemned. The struggle against anti-Semitism and the struggle against Islamophobia should be viewed as two aspects of the same struggle.

nunha pasaxe memorable de Still Alive: A Holocaust Girlhood Remembered (2001), Ruth Klüger describe unha conversa con ‘algúns doutorandos’ en Alemaña:

In a memorable passage in Still Alive: A Holocaust Girlhood Remembered (2001), Ruth Klüger describes a conversation with ‘some advanced PhD candidates’ in Germany:

alguén relata como en Xerusalén coñeceu un vello xudeu húngaro sobrevivente de Auschwitz, e aínda así este home maldicía os árabes e desprezábaos a todos. ‘Como alguén que vén de Auschwitz pode falar así?’, pregúntase. Entro en escena e argumento, quizais de xeito máis acalorado do debido. Que esperaba? Auschwitz non era ningunha institución de ensino ... Non aprendías nada alí, e menos de todo humanidade e tolerancia. Absolutamente nada bo saíu dos campos de concentración, escóitome dicir, alzando a voz, e ela espera unha catarse, unha purga, o tipo de cousas que vas buscar ao teatro? Foron as institucións máis inútiles e sen sentido que se poida imaxinar.

One reports how in Jerusalem he made the acquaintance of an old Hungarian Jew who was a survivor of Auschwitz, and yet this man cursed the Arabs and held them all in contempt. How can someone who comes from Auschwitz talk like that? the German asks. I get into the act and argue, perhaps more hotly than need be. What did he expect? Auschwitz was no instructional institution … You learned nothing there, and least of all humanity and tolerance. Absolutely nothing good came out of the concentration camps, I hear myself saying, with my voice rising, and he expects catharsis, purgation, the sort of thing you go to the theatre for? They were the most useless, pointless establishments imaginable.

temos de abandonar a idea de que hai algo emancipatorio en experiencias extremas, que nos permiten abrir os ollos á verdade suprema dunha situación. Esta quizais sexa a lección máis deprimente do terror.

We have to abandon the idea that there is something emancipatory in extreme experiences, that they enable us to open our eyes to the ultimate truth of a situation. This, perhaps, is the most depressive lesson of terror.

LRB, 5 de febreiro de 2015

tradución mala por @xindiriz