Archived Edition: April 18, 2007 | Back to Current	Sep 09, 2010

The sin of indifference
Rob Streicker - Senior Writer

As I sat in the cold rain on Monday morning, reading the names of hundreds of dead into a microphone, I thought about darkness. I envisioned not only the evil that inspired reasonable men to murder, but also the palpable emptiness left behind. While I said the names of my dead mothers and fathers, it was the possibility of what-could-have-been that distressed me. But it is a fear of what may be, if we don’t remember, that causes me now to write.

While we set aside only one day a year to remember the victims of the Holocaust, we carry their weight on our shoulders every day. We bear the burden of remembering them, lest they die a second death, with neither body nor memory left to prove their existence.

Those of us who survived say the names of those who did not, reminding the world that genocide organized on a grand and dispassionate scale is still murder of individuals. Per Jewish tradition, we say their names to recall their distinctiveness.

But it is under the weight of responsibility to mankind that I cry out the names of the dead, never allowing myself to accept the de-individualization that strips the world of its humanity. And while I do not compare the Holocaust to other terrors, we who are so vividly aware of the perils of indifference have an obligation to make a difference now.

Elie Wiesel, a Holocaust survivor, said in a famous speech that indifference, unlike hatred of evil, never inspired anyone to act. He wrote, “Indifference is always the friend of the enemy, for it benefits the aggressor – never his victim, whose pain is magnified when he or she feels forgotten.

“The political prisoner in his cell, the hungry children, the homeless refugees – not to respond to their plight, not to relieve their solitude by offering them a spark of hope is to exile them from human memory. And in denying their humanity, we betray our own.”

So I commend the students of the Jewish Association who awoke early on Sunday with posters to awaken us all to the unpleasant reality of what occurred not so long ago. And I commend Elissa Brown ’08 and Leah Katzelnick ’10, coordinators of the Darfur Action Force, who raise money for, and more importantly, awareness of the Sudanese victims of genocide.

I stand in awe of Eric Reeves ’72, a humble English professor at Smith, who awoke five years ago to lead this nation towards interference on behalf of powerless Darfurians, who have no other hope. He has traveled, written and spoken extensively about their plight and our obligation to stop their disappearance.

These brave individuals fight for the dead and dying. They refuse to accept the expunging of innocent souls from human memory.

Yet despite the overwhelming moral imperative to remember and to act, there are still some students at this college who believe that these outspoken people are shoving their beliefs down students’ throats. Some of the critics claim on the WSO blog, “A Lack of Sympathy,” that by posting names and faces of Holocaust victims to our doors, the Jewish Association insensitively violated students’ private space and spoiled their days.

But we have no right to indifference.

The critics claim, as though it were better, that they object only to remembering Jews, and not to remembering other victims of genocide. They claim outrageously that Holocaust Remembrance Day comes at the expense of forgetting other countless millions who have suffered and died unnatural deaths.

Some have suggested that the Jewish Association should have postered the names of all the victims of history, not just those murdered by Nazis. But such suggestions should be revealed for what they are: attempts to deny Jewish victims their right to particularity. When these bloggers claim that the Final Solution was not a crime against Jews, but merely an instance of universal human tragedy, they contribute to the de-individualization of the victims.

If we are not careful, we may fall into the bloggers’ trap. It is so easy to become indifferent in the face of almost unimaginable horror. As Wiesel said, “It is so much easier to look away from victims. It is so much easier to avoid such rude interruptions to our work, our dreams, our hopes. It is, after all, awkward, troublesome, to be involved in another person’s pain and despair.”

But the willingness of people like Brown, Katzelnick and Reeves to invest themselves in the future of the people of Darfur demonstrates that some people hear the names of past victims and don’t want to have to say the names of future ones.

We have no right to peace of mind as long as our neighbors suffer. As Reeves has said, we don’t have the luxury of despair. Each of us must decide whether we will be among the many who sit idly by or among the righteous few who decided to answer the call to conscience.

While I still can shout: Genocide is ongoing in Darfur.



Rob Streicker ’07 is a religion major from Providence, R.I.