As I crossed one of the bridges over the Danube River in Salzburg, my attention was drawn to the photographs lined up on the railing of the bridge. As I tried to run to the hotel in the pouring rain, I looked at the photos, knowing I would never see them again and read the explanatory notes beneath them, trying to understand the purpose of this innocent propaganda that thousands of people were exposed to every day.
The photographs in the exhibition, which aimed to keep the memory of the genocide the Jewish community suffered during World War II alive, belonged to Holocaust victims, their relatives and some non-Jewish people who had helped them, intending to thank them on this occasion. They were examples showing how Jews fought a cultural battle during the Holocaust and that indirect narratives and cultural methods might be the only guarantee against forgetting an event. This method, which we see in fields ranging from cinema to literature that rely on indirect expression, can be considered the reason why the Jewish image has not been seriously shaken in the world, despite the massacres in Gaza. Among the photographs, I was struck by one of a scientist who, after her husband died in the camps, said, “I thank the many people who risked their lives to help me survive.”
One of the photos that caught my attention belonged to an Iranian Muslim named Abdul Hussain. Unless I missed any other names in the rain, Abdul Hussain's was the only photo belonging to a Muslim on the bridge. When I saw him, I couldn't help but look more closely to see if there was anyone from my country, but I didn't find anyone. The photo next to Abdul Hussain belonged to a Christian and was described as “the Schindler of the era,” in reference to Oskar Schindler, a German industrialist who employed many and saved the lives of around 2,000 Jews during World War II. As time passed, my memory made me doubt: Was the term “Schindler of the era” used for the Iranian Muslim or for someone else?
So who was Abdul Hussain? Abdul Hussain was an Iranian diplomat stationed in France at the time. During his tenure, he helped Jews escape to the East, perhaps even to Türkiye, and saved the lives of around 3,000 Jews through his efforts. I stood in front of the photograph for a while, thinking that thousands of people, both known and unknown, might have helped the Jewish community in such major events. Nothing is surprising about this: What else can one think of but helping a person who is being oppressed, regardless of who the oppressor or the oppressed is? To exaggerate this is to misunderstand humanity. There are probably dozens of untold Schindler stories in our country – especially those who helped Armenian children or Greeks during the deportation period. I believe the world is never devoid of such examples. Because humanity lives by good values, every society is socialized through moral virtues, and even if it neglects its values in times of great fear or threat, virtues are actually ingrained in the human mind. In this regard, being optimistic about people and humanity, believing that people are equipped with good values and, in the words of Muslim philosopher and poet Muhammad Iqbal, "not losing hope in humanity," is a moral principle.
I stood there for a moment, getting soaked in the rain, pondering the photograph: Since it's perfectly normal for such examples to emerge from every society, why aren't such names emerging from the Jewish community? Why isn't there a Schindler who would risk his life for the Muslims in Gaza? Why can't a community that prides itself on being the most educated in the world, which may well be true, at least for the last two centuries, criticize its irrational traditions, beliefs, society and its own cave?
Those who view events optimistically exaggerate the reactions that have emerged in the world in recent times, thinking that serious criticism of Zionism has appeared in the world. In reality, such a belief is nothing more than an exaggerated delusion. Moreover, there are no members of the Jewish community among them. The fact that the reactions that have emerged are creating hope in Muslim society is, in itself, an epistemological problem that needs to be discussed: we are experiencing events that can be interpreted as an example of the weak hoping for mercy, even from the gestures and facial expressions of the powerful.
Politically charged events within Israel are also being misinterpreted and exaggerated, including in our country, as if there were a huge reaction. There is no division within the community, no disintegration, no hesitation: they know what they are doing, their goals are clear and no one seems to be giving up on these goals. Just as Jewish writers like Emmanuel Levinas in the recent past considered the “Sabra and Shatila massacre” normal, the same attitudes are emerging today; they see no hesitation between acting with a communal mentality and being intellectual. We are living out Ibn Sina's (also known as Avicenna in the West) legacy, who said that when work becomes serious, "education disappears, nature recurs." Knowing they will not be criticized, they can openly declare their stance because the perpetrators of genocide are their brothers.
Then we must ask: Why are there no Schindlers among the Jews? Why doesn't the community divide? Why doesn't such an educated society emerge from the cave it lives in?
The first answer that comes to mind concerns how the issue of "chosen-ness" may have shaped their identity and perception of the "other." Perhaps non-Jews will never truly understand the problem of chosen-ness; they will interpret it as an "exaggerated" perception a society has of itself, just as we cannot understand the issue of the caste system in India or classism in China. However, the chosen people argument may not be a sufficient answer to the question. Additionally, the fact that the past has been preserved in memories through literature is also a noteworthy factor. They have engraved the role of innocence so deeply in people's memories, which could only be done through literature, that they are saying, “What they did is their right.” Another noteworthy element is that their interlocutors are Muslims. The perception of Muslims, which has been systematically constructed for nearly a century, has left no one with the courage to defend Muslims.
Reflecting on the answer to this question is of vital importance for understanding the nature of the problem the world is facing.
