Forgiving Propaganda Victims: Reflections on a Story by Kornel Filipowicz
Today I would like to once again polemize with Kornel Filipowicz (1913–1990), a Polish writer with whom I share a hometown. This time I have chosen a short story titled “The Tower of Babel” that touches upon a pressing issue: how should we deal with war criminals and propaganda victims?
“The Tower of Babel” (“Wieża Babel”), included in the short story collection When the Stronger Comes (Gdy przychodzi silniejszy) (1974), tells about Bogdan Widera, a former concentration camp prisoner, who, together with his partner Anna Pokorna, also a former prisoner, builds on his garden plot a strange pyramid-shaped, seven-meter-high structure of stones which the people call the Tower of Babel. A police officer comes to check if Widera has a building permit and sees a tablet declaring that the structure is “The Monument to Humanity, 1939–1945”.
He also notices writings in various languages as well as symbols of various nations, religions and political movements. Next to the Star of David, a Catholic and an Orthodox cross, and the Polish, Czechoslovak and Soviet coats of arms, there’s also a swastika. Widera explains that it’s the monument to all the people who suffered, and some Germans who were stupid enough to believe the Nazis also suffered and died in their delusion. “A person’s stupidity is not their fault”, comments Anna. And, continues Widera, it will be this way until the end of days. “Or until all people become good and wise”, adds the woman.
But should a person really be absolved from responsibility for their stupidity? Should we forgive propaganda victims? These questions are especially poignant today with the new Nazis — Russian Putinists and their dittoheads in the West.
Before we proceed, it should be noted that Filipowicz, himself a former concentration camp prisoner, wrote this story almost thirty years after the war. I, on the other hand, am writing this right in the middle of the war here in Ukraine. I don’t know what my opinion will be in 2050, but I know that we can’t wait for thirty years — we have to live with these people on the same planet, here and now.
The issue actually has two dimensions — legal and ethical — and both should be considered on the individual and collective level.
Law is clear: any crime has its punishment. The concepts of complicity and omission are also applicable. However, in practice it is impossible to punish millions of people who were cheering up for war crimes and engaging in hate speech. Here’s where the moral element chimes in.
On the collective level, the legal system stipulates compensations and reparations. Can something else be done? How about excluding the offending nation state or its legal successors (in case of a regime change) from big global politics, say, for 100 years? Anyway, I believe Germany’s punishment for WWII was not harsh enough.
Modern secular ethics has deep religious roots with a long history of punishments for sins, in this life or beyond — from Christian hell and purgatory to Eastern karma. Sure, there’s also Christian forgiveness, turning the other cheek, not to mention various modern New Age and psychology gurus and satori dealers preaching the need to “forgive and let go”. It all sounds well and good, but it won’t solve the problem if the offender is still capable of doing harm — not to mention the collective offender that continues threatening the world.
Christian forgiveness often goes hand in hand with repentance, which can be a useful concept, but how can we assess whether a person has really repented? Speaking of Russia, Dostoevsky in his Crime and Punishment keenly described repentance and inner transformation, but can we expect this existential depth from an average person?
And could a person avoid falling prey to propaganda? Russia is not North Korea. Up until recently it wasn’t much isolated from the outside world. Most of the country’s citizens know there exist other ways of life, other ways of thinking, and other choices.
Although there’s a good deal of propaganda in Russian schools, teachers often lack motivation and expertise, and most students think being well-educated is not cool, Russian education is still better than that of many African and Latin American countries. It provides a decent knowledge base and necessary tools — for those who wish to use them — to develop critical thinking and an adequate picture of the world, as can be seen in numerous intellectuals coming from that country.
Yes, imperialist thinking is deeply engrained in Russian culture, but still there should be some moral guidelines as to what is allowed and acceptable in the modern world, whatever your cultural background and ideological beliefs may be.
Thus, there is a considerable element of choice here. When you have reasonable mental capabilities and cognitive tools, even being part of the herd and succumbing to groupthink is your choice. Otherwise how can we claim we stand above other animals?
If someone who had the capabilities and tools at their disposal still claims they had no choice but to believe what the Big Brother said, perhaps they should be caged or taken back to the forests and caves stage — not literally, of course, but figuratively, as the outcasts from the civilized society.
And if they do recognize it was their choice, then, if they believe their choice was right, the verdict should be the same — banishment and isolation; but if they admit they were wrong, then they should be given a chance to repent. However, the true repentance, accompanied with inner transformation, may take years, or decades — or centuries, if we are talking about a nation.
In the meantime we should be watching, assessing, making our own decisions, and hoping that “all people become good and wise” before the end of days.