Thursday 11 December 2014

Various Small Fires


In the course of Neil MacGregor's recent series on Germany, there were several references to the Nazi book burnings of 1933.  Given what was to happen subsequently, this may seem relatively low on the scale of Nazi-era atrocities, but, as Heinrich Heine, a German Jew, wrote in 1820: "Dort, wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man am Ende auch Menschen" (wherever they burn books, they will also in the end burn people).  Naturally, Heine's works were amongst those tossed onto the bonfires; the list of authors condemned as "un-German" is a very distinguished one indeed.

However, I'm not about to give a history lecture, or a literary analysis -- these grotesque events are well-known, and there are plenty of places you can read about them, if you're curious.  What interests and troubles me is the parallel with today.  I find myself wondering: if a government came to power that wished to control the curriculum in a centralised, ideological way (imagine that!), and enacted a law to destroy all books that were even vaguely off-message, how far would we comply, those of us whose professional duty it is to defend culture and ensure its transmission to future generations? I'm thinking primarily of librarians, archivists, academics and teachers; how far would any of us resist?  What price would we be prepared to pay, what personal risks would we be prepared to undergo?

It's a question that goes to the heart of any understanding of that perennial conundrum:  how could the Germans have allowed the events subsequent to 1933 to happen?  My suspicion is that very few of us living in luckier countries who need not carry that historic guilt would have behaved any better then, or will do so in the future, if challenged to do so.  I say this, because I have seen the evidence.  I have watched senior managers comply with distasteful directives, that went contrary to their professional ethics or personal beliefs, because it was the responsible thing to do.  Yes, people will lose their jobs, resources will be slashed to unsustainable levels, client groups will suffer...  All very regrettable, it's true, but necessary (it says here).  It's the law.  Anyway, the alternative would be career suicide.

Increasingly, over the last forty years as I have stood on picket lines or helped carry a union banner on demonstrations, I have been dismayed by the steady decline in support from the very people whose presence would count for something in the eyes of those whose attention needed to be got.  For example, senior academic staff who stay away from campus on a strike day, yet claim to have been working from home, and thus lose no pay, or influential administrative staff who hide behind claims of higher loyalties to the service.  The nadir came for me when a woman who had been a stalwart of our union, and with whom I had sat for the best part of a decade on our local executive -- she had been both secretary and president -- breezily walked past our picket line on a day of action on the way to her office.  Now a very senior administrator, she simply had too much work to do, it seemed, to be mucking about with strikes over pay.  I was dumbstruck, which was probably just as well.

It occurred to me at that same moment, very forcefully and, almost with the power of a revelation, that we were probably wasting our time, and engaged in an activity whose practical and even symbolic utility was absolutely nil; just a handful of the "usual suspects" gratifying an urge to be seen to do something, and eminently ignorable.

Inevitably, one thinks of the famous, if possibly apocryphal words of pastor Martin Niemöller:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out —
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out —
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out —
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me — and there was no one left to speak for me.
Of course, next time it won't be books and bonfires.  But, whatever it is, it'll be happening to people next, unless...  Well, unless we all resolve that it shouldn't be happening, and are prepared to take the consequences.  One day, I'm going to research the careers and fates of senior German university librarians in the years following 1933.  I'm hoping to be pleasantly surprised, but am not counting on it.


12 comments:

Carsten Schultz said...

Your post went in a more interesting direction, but reading the first paragraphs I had to think of this: http://www.ccc.de/en/updates/2014/ccc-censored-in-uk

Mike C. said...

Carsten,

Yes, the problem is always going to be getting the balance right -- the bad guys will always exploit perceived threats as an excuse for repressive measures. The good guys will always hang back, usually until it's too late...

What we need is some bad good guys! Unfortunately, they will inevitably turn into bad bad guys...

Mike

John Krill said...

To answer your question would we be any better?

Consider Bosnia.

Mike C. said...

John,

Which question was that? Any question to which the answer is "Bosnia" is probably a bad question...

Mike

Kent Wiley said...

The best ring so far.

Mike C. said...

Thanks, Kent.

I think I'm moving away from the original strict concept towards using the format as an all-purpose canvas...

Mike

Zouk Delors said...

Only today I heard a lively phone-in item, on BBC Radio2's Jeremy Vine Show, on whether Welsh rugby fans should be prevented from singing the Tom Jones Hit, Delilah - because it "celebrates domestic violence". Many contributors basically made the point that "You'll be wanting to ban Shakespeare next". Quite possibly?

Mike C. said...

Zouk,

I'm assuming that you don't mean that I might want to ban Shakespeare, but that some legislator might, on grounds of undesirable content? I'm also assuming you're not serious...

I know people get exercised about "PC gone mad", but I don't think opposition to domestic violence is an ideological matter, on which it is possible to have validly different opinions. Same with racism. Whether banning "Delilah" or "Little Black Sambo" is an effective strategy for reducing domestic violence is another matter. I don't think it is, personally, and I can't imagine what evidence there could be to argue for it, and I strongly disagree with my professional colleagues (mainly in the USA) who choose to exclude any legitimately published material from their institutions.

However, the day people start talking about banning Shakespeare is the day I take to the hills...

Mike

Zouk Delors said...

There is someone who was in our adolescent social circle (I'm talking long ships) who achieved 15 minutes' infamy in the yellow press a few years back as the lesbian lover of the school headmistress who thought Romeo and Juliet [I think the word may have been] "inappropriate". I imagine the hills are to the north of Southhampton?

Mike C. said...

Zouk,

Yes, that does ring a vague bell. People who are big on "identity" politics do seem to want to reach for censorship rather too readily, for my taste.

As per my argument in this post, there's no point in judging the past by the standards of today, especially when most of us are weaselly jobsworths who'd go along with pretty much anything for a quiet life.

"Inappropriate" is one of my least favourite words. Much as I dislike racism, sexism, etc., I don't want to put a genteel legalistic veil over bad behaviour -- get it out in the open, argue the case, and let the disinfectant of sunlight do its work...

Mike

Martyn Cornell said...

This is, of course, the theme of Farenheit 451 – a book which, inevitably, has itself been censored on a number of occasions.

Zouk Delors said...

No, the "you" there was echoing callers-in who challenged other callers supporting a ban.

The point about "inappropriate" is that there's nothing legalistic about it: it is used as a term of social/moral disapprobation for behaviour not (necessarily) subject to legal sanction, while a legalistic analysis would be guided by the (legal) maxim, "that which is not forbidden is allowed", so such usage would be literally quite inappropriate in legal proceedings (but is nevertheless no doubt now increasingly heard in the courtroom). Declaring behaviour "inappropriate" appeals to an unwritten code and is therefore unchallengeable, whilst any attempt to challenge is itself quite likely to be deemed "totally inappropriate" by the party so challenged.

Of course, it's not clear that Delilah is any more (or less) appropriate to a rugby match than Bread of Heaven, but it is a thumping good tune with lyrics which treat of a human drama touching on treachery, jealousy, humiliation and revenge. For the avoidance of doubt, I don't mean by these remarks to endorse in any way the stabbing to death of faithless, scornful partners.