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Tel Aviv University
Tel Aviv University - Moshe Zuckermann (Cohn Institute) masters
the art of Pseudo-History
Over the years, the
cost accounting spirit has emerged as one of the basic patterns of
Israeli political culture. From the state's instrumentalizing of the
memory of the Holocaust (which found its supreme satiric expression
in the outcry of the Israeli functionary, "Haven't the Jewish people
suffered enough?" in a skit by the Cameric Five comedy troupe ); the
lordly slogan of the senior politician who tells the victims of the
Israeli occupation: "If they give, they'll get"; down to the "price
tag" euphemism for the pogromist actions of the Jewish Cossacks in
the territories - all these phenomena (and numberless others in the
political, social and economic spheres ) are characterized by the
intentional cynical cheapening of suffering that is concealed behind
the headlines and the words, or by its denial through subordination
to the exchange-value principle. Whenever the exchange-value
principle is applied, the victims of historic horror become a
manipulative element in some irrelevant wheeling and dealing, or the
current victims are presented as a factor in some fundamentally
baseless equation of justice, or they even become a target of
repeated duplication in terms of their status as victims.
http://www.haaretz.com/weekend/magazine/blind-to-suffering-1.391274
Blind to suffering
The Shalit deal shows once
again how human suffering has become a matter of cost accounting.
By Moshe Zuckermann
Published 21.10.11
The drawing by Eran Wolkowski that
appeared on the op-ed page of Haaretz on October 14 sums up
trenchantly and precisely one of the principal aspects of the "Gilad
Shalit affair." In the drawing, a boy in a t-shirt emblazoned the
iconic image of Shalit asks his father, "So why didn't we do it five
years ago?" The father, sitting in an armchair in typical Israeli
summer leisure wear (his t-shirt also carries the image of the
captive soldier ), replies with the authoritative gravitas of
someone who is called on to come up with an answer: "Because 1,000
in today's terms is worth half of what it was."
The idiocy of the reply contains a deep
truth: the insistence on the Israeli principle of not being a freier
- a sucker - combined with some sort of imagined sophistication in
accounting laid the foundation for the Israeli attitude toward the
entire affair. That is, the exchange value of the declared goal
overrides the realization of the goal itself: the soldier's release
from captivity. It's not that the underlying logic of the abduction
did not determine the purposeful-businesslike management of the
episode from the outset. But that predetermined logic is also the
basis for the boy's innocent question: If the solution to the
problem lies in a price that is known in advance, and there is a
genuine desire to resolve the problem, why not pay the price as
early as possible in order to avert the torment that the soldier and
his family will undergo? The father's imbecilic reply lies not in
the realm of self-justification (his "authoritative" character
projects the arrogance of a know-it-all adult ) but is anchored
completely in the certainty that accompanies financial calculations,
namely that it was worth waiting five years because of the
inflationary decrease in the value of the "1,000."
The suffering of the abducted soldier and
the suffering of his family are unrepresented and not amenable to
representation. In the last analysis, an authentic attitude toward
the reality of their suffering must remain mute. The famous comment
by the German-Jewish thinker Theodor Adorno - that the role of art
is to give voice to suffering, because suffering is entitled to
representation just as a man being tortured is entitled to cry out -
does not delude itself that the representation of suffering is
capable of mediating the concrete experience of suffering. The
representation "betrays" the reality of the experience because it
cannot be the experience itself.
However, whereas art elevates this
"betrayal" to the level of a general insight - which enables art, at
its height, to say something about the essence of suffering
precisely by way of its concrete representation - the conversion of
suffering into its exchange value does not even betray the suffering
person but simply removes him as such from the consciousness of
those who introduce him into the transactional equation.
Suffering itself is subordinated to
considerations of profitability; it is they that determine whether
to end it, or not. In his question, the boy is still spontaneously
preserving the memory of the suffering; he wants to know why there
was a refusal to prevent it for such a long time. The father, in his
reply, is thrusting the suffering into realms where it can be
ignored, by converting the aspiration to end it into calculations
about the price of its prevention. The high-handed nature of his
"knowing" reply is merely concrete testimony to his alienation from
concrete suffering.
One could, of course, argue that exactly
the opposite stance characterized the habitual attitude of the
majority of the Israeli public toward Gilad Shalit's fate. Many
activists came to the aid of the soldier's family in its struggle to
bring him home. Quite a few were unwavering in their activity. The
polls show that the majority of the public supported the deal.
Nevertheless, the boy's nagging question won't go away: So why did
it take five years to happen? The answer is as simple as it is
unpleasant: for most of the time, it was not the captive soldier's
fate that concerned those who could have brought about his release
long ago, had they truly wished to, but the exchange value of his
release. The public was constantly subjected to lip service "from
above" that everything possible was being done to bring the captive
home. But the truth is that, if the decision makers had not arrived
at the conclusion that a "window of opportunity had opened" and that
it was necessary to act quickly in light of "regional developments"
before it was too late, the soldier might well have spent many more
years in captivity. Concern for his personal fate would have
continued to nourish the Israeli public's image of itself as
"merciful" and "humane" and to symbolize some sort of "mutual
surety" and "responsibility for others," even as the relevant levels
of officialdom continued to cast about for a better deal than the
one they were offered years ago, the same one that was finally
accepted - with the addition of the years of torment and suffering
undergone by the soldier and his family.
Exchange value
Over the years, the cost accounting spirit
has emerged as one of the basic patterns of Israeli political
culture. From the state's instrumentalizing of the memory of the
Holocaust (which found its supreme satiric expression in the outcry
of the Israeli functionary, "Haven't the Jewish people suffered
enough?" in a skit by the Cameric Five comedy troupe ); the lordly
slogan of the senior politician who tells the victims of the Israeli
occupation: "If they give, they'll get"; down to the "price tag"
euphemism for the pogromist actions of the Jewish Cossacks in the
territories - all these phenomena (and numberless others in the
political, social and economic spheres ) are characterized by the
intentional cynical cheapening of suffering that is concealed behind
the headlines and the words, or by its denial through subordination
to the exchange-value principle. Whenever the exchange-value
principle is applied, the victims of historic horror become a
manipulative element in some irrelevant wheeling and dealing, or the
current victims are presented as a factor in some fundamentally
baseless equation of justice, or they even become a target of
repeated duplication in terms of their status as victims.
The cost accounting spirit is by its
nature blind to suffering and raises the price of ending suffering
to the level of a meta-criterion of the instrumental reason that
always drives it. It does not wish to nullify the suffering, but to
justify it and its continued existence by converting it into what is
presented as its parallel equivalent, which is intended only to
cause the suffering itself to be forgotten. Against this, there will
be some who argue that this is the nature of politics, which acts as
it does because the mechanisms of suffering in the context of which
it operates are tangled, violent and repressive, and cannot be
overcome by simple, just moderation. As in the song "Wild World," it
is known that the jungle dictates its laws according to its nature,
the more so because the majority here accept that in the Middle East
"Israel has no one to talk to."
In a column on the page opposite the
Wolkowski drawing, Yossi Sarid asks "who we should thank" for Gilad
Shalit's release. Referring to the proponents of the exchange-value
principle and the logic that guides their reasoning, he writes: "Who
did not terrify us over the past 36 hours? Here come the released
prisoners, here lie our bodies. They will never warn, those
admonishing preachers, of a war - somewhere between Tehran and Aswan
- that will inflict more casualties. They will never consider peace
as an alternative. Our fate is sealed."
That is indeed the case in a nutshell.
When we rely on a perception of reality that necessarily and
"naturally" creates victims and suffering, the practicalities of the
solution to the problems that this context generates are guided by
instrumental reason. They will never deal with creating a reality
that inherently aspires to prevent victims and suffering - but
always with estimating the cost of the supposedly unavoidable
suffering and with the profitability of extricating the victim from
his plight in the face of a repressive reality whose necessary
existence and history of victimizing are never doubted.
Then, suddenly, there issues forth the
"leadership" of the person who ideologically and practically shared
in the creation of the situation about which he is now called upon
to show "leadership capability." And the father, who ostensibly
supports the captive's release, explains to his son, from the
heights of his false consciousness, why it was impossible to apply
five years ago what is today suddenly being acclaimed as an act of
"leadership." Only the boy retains innocent wonderment, until he
grows up and becomes a father himself and explains to his son why
controlling the secrets of cost accounting always overrides the
historic possibility of rendering suffering - and, accordingly, its
cost-accounting - unnecessary.
Prof. Moshe Zuckermann is on the
faculty of the Cohn Institute for the History and Philosophy of
Science and Ideas at Tel Aviv University.
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