In the vast tapestry of human history, patterns emerge that echo through time, revealing a disconcerting truth — the recurring nature of humanity’s failings. From the heartbreaking Armenian Genocide to the chilling orchestrations of Stalin’s Great Purge to Hitler’s holocaust to the present-day genocide in Palestine, we find ourselves ensnared in an endless loop of repeating history. It’s disquieting, these parallels between eras, prompting me to ask the question: why does humanity seem destined to recreate the traumas of the past?
The pages of history, whether stained with the ink of Elif Shafak’s The Bastard of Istanbul or the dystopian visions of George Orwell’s 1984, bear witness to the cyclical dance of power and oppression. Stalin’s Great Purge, akin to Hitler’s sinister regime, marked an epoch where totalitarianism seized the reins, leaving a scar on the collective memory. A scar that has opened today, to fresh, bleeding wounds.
Stalin’s Great Purge
The Great Purge, courtesy of Joseph Stalin, in the Soviet Union during the late 1930s, stands as a dark testament to the consolidation of power and the purging of perceived threats to the regime. This historical episode, marked by mass arrests, executions, and political persecution, left an indelible mark on the course of the Soviet Union. While the exact numbers are difficult to determine due to the secretive nature of the Soviet government and the lack of reliable records, most historians believe at least 750,000 people were executed between 1936 and 1938. More than a million survivors were sent to forced labor camps, known as Gulags1.
“Fifth column,” “enemy of the people” and “saboteurs” were some of the terms Stalin used to describe those who were sought out during this period of terror2. The assassinations and arrests started with members of the Bolshevik party, political authorities, and military personnel, then extended to peasants and non-Soviet ethnic minorities. No one was safe. Not artists, not scientists, not intellects, not writers, and most assuredly, not foreigners3. Furthermore, Stalin issued a decree that made families responsible for the offenses committed by a husband or father. This meant that children as young as 12 could face execution for the actions of their relatives4.
Parallels in the Present
Fast-forward to the present-day tragedy in Palestine, genocidal in its nature and proportion. Resonating echoes of Stalin’s Great Terror, we see Israel launch an offensive against a people whose only fault is their existence on a land that the former, and its Western allies, covet. This offensive is constructed around the perceived threat that Israel feels it faces from the outfit, Hamas. So deep is this paranoia (or a political construct?) that Israeli Government officials have gone on record to even place members of the UN on the Hamas list.
While the human toll unfolds like a narrative in the tradition of Mahmoud Darwish’s poetry, where each verse carries the weight of displacement and longing, Israel continues to operate under the forced narrative of wanting to eliminate the threat to the Jewish people, further bolstered by unwavering support from the west. Voices of dissent are swiftly and brutally silenced, pleas fall upon deafened ears, calls for empathy and understanding go unanswered, alliances shift, and motives remain elusive. Governances and Western media seem intent on vilifying the ‘other,’ a recurring motif serving as a justifiable cause for annihilation.
For with great power, motivated by great greed, comes great paranoia and the need to keep it all “safe”. By whatever means necessary (and in Israel’s case, unnecessary). At any cost. No death is a conscientious burden.
I watch with tired eyes, a broken heart, a maimed soul, as history repeats itself. And keep asking, why? Why them? Why this? Why again?
Humanity’s Paradox
To comprehend this cyclical narrative, I turned the lens inward and came to a conclusion: Humanity is ensnared in a paradox where progress coexists with regression. The innate human tendencies towards power, control, and the fear of the ‘other’ create a fertile ground for the re-emergence of historical patterns. The timeless words of Jorge Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” resonate as a cautionary tale against our collective amnesia.
In reflecting on the Great Purge under Stalin and the contemporary genocide in Palestine, it’s disheartening to realize how humanity perpetually falls short in learning from its own history. The echoes of past atrocities reverberate, yet we seem unable to glean the crucial lessons they offer. We express horror at the tragic failings of past leaders, patting ourselves on the back for progress, yet the cycle persists.
The paradox of acknowledging historical atrocities while congratulating ourselves on our supposed moral advancement is a stark reminder of our collective failure to truly absorb the wisdom of the past. The sobering truth remains — governments across the world continue to stumble on the same pitfalls, continue to fail their people, never fully internalizing the imperative to evolve beyond the recurring mistakes that stain our shared history.
Breaking the Cycle?
Yet, within this bleak, infinite cycle, I refuse to give up hope. The same history that served as warnings of our propensity to repeat mistakes also offers a roadmap for change. It beckons us to learn, grow, and challenge the status quo. Breaking the cycle requires a collective commitment to empathy, understanding, and a resolute rejection of the toxic narratives that perpetuate division. An urgent need to rewrite our present and the future.
May the ghosts of the events starting 7 October 2023 haunt our consciences for as long as we live. And may the hope that future generations heed the lessons we seem inclined to forget to burn bright. Unlike the trauma Holocaust survivors and survivors of the Nakba are reliving, let’s aspire for a different legacy. A legacy where the shadows of history don’t cast the same pall over successive generations, ensuring that they are guided, rather than shackled for eternity.
