censorship

Race to the bottom

It may not be a total coincidence that one of the most recent conflicts over book banning is taking place in McMinn County, Tenn., less than an hour from the town of Dayton, in the same state, which was the site of the renowned Scopes “Monkey” Trial, 97 years ago.

The fight over whether Art Spiegelman’s graphic memoir about the Holocaust, Maus, is suitable reading for high schoolers echoes the earlier debate over whether teaching the theory of evolution was appropriate fare for students in a place and time where the biblical creation story was the only accepted narrative.

The debate over the banning of books and ideas is a hot topic these days, though hardly a new one.

Fortunately, we live in an age when banning ideas is nearly impossible in a free, or even partly free, society. Only in totalitarian and authoritarian regimes are governments able to block information. Around the world, in many countries, gaining access to forbidden ideas is relatively easy. In North America, the New York Public Library, among others, has made it easier for people anywhere to access specifically banned or challenged materials. People who want to seek out publications that authority figures try to limit are generally able to do so.

A phenomenon less easily addressed is the proliferation of misinformation and disinformation. This proliferation is the flip side of the ability to access banned ideas. In a world where anyone with a computer can access information, anyone with a computer can just as easily invent information and then circulate it widely.

Misinformation and disinformation have always existed. But almost certainly never have they so dramatically defined civil discourse. The difference between these two terms is important. One source calls misinformation “false information that is spread, regardless of intent to mislead.” Disinformation, from the same source, is deemed “deliberately misleading or biased information; manipulated narrative or facts; propaganda.” Both are problematic, but intent matters. Misinformation can sometimes be righted through correctives. Disinformation is often formulated in ways that actively deter correction.

For example, the greatest threat to American democracy right now is a narrative that has been formulated in such a perverse, Orwellian manner that the perpetrators of the lie that the 2020 U.S. presidential election was illegitimately “stolen” are the very people who are trying to steal a legitimate election. Those who perpetuate a lie accuse opponents of lying.

The first issue of The Atlantic magazine this year was almost entirely devoted to this subject and the thesis, if we may summarize crudely, is that, unless some dramatic corrective is applied, American democracy has less than two years to survive.

The internet, which is the keystone of our 21st-century ability to read and write virtually anything, has also emerged at a time of massive diffusion of so-called “mainstream media.” The grandchildren of those who grew up with three TV channels can now access thousands. We self-select our information and entertainment, with the impact that we have more, but smaller, frames of reference. One of the results of this is that we have largely been able to choose our own “truths.”

There are no simple solutions to these problems. But, if there is an antidote to ignorance, misinformation and disinformation, it is a recommitment to liberal values of free expression and unbridled academic inquiry. Applied to younger generations, this means inculcating in them an ability to assess and analyze context, information and sources. This sounds like a simple remedy but, of course, learning to think critically is a lifelong pursuit and cannot be taught in a single semester.

Yet, this is the primary way forward. As a society, we need to acknowledge that critical thinking is the foundation upon which democracy and civil society rests. We have abandoned balanced discussion and nuanced consideration of topics in favour of memes and slogans that suit our purposes.

We face a tough crawl out of the hole we find ourselves in – that is, assuming we have stopped digging – but confronting and contending with challenging ideas is the ideal we must strive for. Every banned book is another shovelful of dirt in our democracy’s race to the bottom.

Maus not too graphic

Students in Anna-Mae Wiesenthal’s Holocaust and Genocide Studies class at King David High School discuss the graphic memoir Maus. (photo by Pat Johnson)

In January, the school board in McMinn County, Tenn., voted to remove the graphic novel Maus from its eighth grade curriculum.

The book by Art Spiegelman won a Pulitzer Prize in 1992 under a special category created specifically for Maus. The two-volume collection of previously serialized comic-style narratives was viewed at the time as revolutionary for its approach to a subject like the Holocaust in a medium more commonly associated with superheroes and humour.

In the books, racial and national identities are represented through anthropomorphized animals. Jews are depicted as mice, Germans as cats, Poles as pigs, Americans as dogs, British as fish and so on. In each instance, the characters have the bodies of humans and the heads of the respective animals. This form has been criticized by some critics over the decades as overly simplistic but has caused particular discomfort to many Poles, who do not appreciate being depicted as pigs.

Spiegelman, the author, called the McMinn County decision “Orwellian,” but has seen sales of his books skyrocket since the ban thrust the works back into the spotlight.

The Independent joined in a class discussion with the five students in the Holocaust and Genocide Studies course at King David High School, led by teacher Anna-Mae Wiesenthal. Discussing the Tennessee book banning, students questioned the sincerity of the school board’s grounds for opposing the book.

In a graphic memoir dealing with the attempted annihilation of a people and which touches on history’s most horrific acts of inhumanity, students found it “absurd” that the board’s primary concerns appeared to be a couple of instances of mild profanity and the depiction of a nude cartoon cat.

The book follows the true journey of the author in pressing his father, Vladek, to share his Holocaust experiences openly for the first time.

Nitzan Berger, a great-granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor, observed that many survivors hesitated to share their narratives and that the graphic novels capture the challenges of the younger generation in approaching the subject, as well as the reticence on the part of the older generation to relive the horrors of their past. While the passing down of these stories is important, it can be painful for both generations.

“It’s interesting for us to hear about the stories, but we don’t think about the other side,” she said.

Ethan Dreyshner was struck by the speed with which an entire society, down to its youngest members, could be transformed.

“It just really shows how this whole society was changed to think the Jews were terrible people,” he said. “Six years earlier, Jews were regular citizens. It’s crazy to think that a whole society, a whole population, can just turn on their neighbours that quickly.”

Noting that young people need to begin learning about this challenging subject at some point, students contrasted Maus with Anne Frank’s diary, which for generations has been an entry point to discussion of the topic.

Olivia Levsky said a graphic novel that is intense but not particularly long may be a good starting point as well, especially for young people who rebel against assigned readings.

“It’s a very interesting way to learn something that’s very important to learn,” she said. “I didn’t feel like it was incredibly graphic or too much when I was reading it. It was graphic at times, but the Holocaust was graphic. I didn’t feel it was overly triggering or traumatizing. I didn’t feel it was inappropriate.”

Levsky also noted that Spiegelman, in some respects, depicted the national groups through the eyes of the victimizer.

“He drew each character and each race in the way that the Nazis saw them,” she said, noting particularly the Nazis’ association of Jews with vermin. “I imagine toward the end [of the war], the Americans felt like threatening dogs to the Nazis.”

Students concurred with Wiesenthal that there also may have been a practical purpose to depicting each group as a type of animal. It made each character’s identity more immediately understandable to the reader without having to repeatedly point out the race or nationality of each individual – in one instance, a Jew (mouse) hides in plain sight with the mask of a pig (Pole).

Wiesenthal noted that the second volume, which the class has not read together, is somewhat more explicit in its violence.

The teacher also stressed that the book tells the story of the Holocaust experience and intergenerational trauma through one family.

“We often talk about numbers – six million – which can serve to depersonalize what is really an impossible number to grasp,” the teacher said. “I think that we need to remember each of them had a name, each of them had a family. It’s very impersonal, often, the way we attach the number to the Holocaust.”

Maus includes situations in which non-Jewish people assisted in the survival of Jews. While it is not addressed in the book, students discussed the fact that Yad Vashem’s criteria for designation as Righteous Among the Nations excludes people who received compensation for their often-life-endangering efforts.

Shai Rubin noted that, in some cases, Jews may have given valuables voluntarily as gratitude to their rescuers. He also noted that, in addition to risking their lives, many non-Jewish helpers were experiencing economic destitution due to the war and what small amount of food they could provide to Jews in hiding may have come at a great price to their own families.

Of one woman in the story, Rubin said: “There’s a difference between doing something for money and doing something and getting money for it. She did it out of the goodness of her heart.”

In what was a shocking sequence for students, Art, the author, discovers that his father has burned the diaries of Art’s mother, Anja, who committed suicide. In response, the son lashes out at his father: “Murderer!”

This opened a discussion of what Wiesenthal called “the murder of memory” and raised the quote by Elie Wiesel (not mentioned explicitly in the book), who said of the Holocaust and its victims, “If we forget, the dead will be killed a second time.”

The Grade 12 students analyzed the content, style and medium of Maus. They observed that, often when the wrought iron gate to Auschwitz is pictured, the focus is on the words themselves, Arbeit Macht Frei, while, in this book, the eye is drawn to the individual people in the frame, a reminder that the Holocaust can often be depicted in broad strokes but it is, ultimately, about the killing of individuals.

On the medium itself, all the students concurred that it is an effective avenue for conveying challenging material.

“I think this is a really effective form of teaching the Holocaust, especially to kids,” said Dreyshner. “Something like the diary of Anne Frank, you might feel a little disconnected, you can’t see it, you can’t understand it because it’s hard to show actual images of the Holocaust to children. I think a graphic novel really does the job because you can see what happened, you can get a sense of what happened, without seeing the horrific things exactly.”

Richard Helper agreed, but subtly criticized those who are concerned about the graphic nature of the book.

“This is easily digestible, it’s effective, it has quite a bit of information on the specifics of the Nazis’ war machine as well,” he said. “While some people, I think, try and attack it for being either too simplistic or too graphic, we’re teaching a book on the Holocaust.… It’s the Holocaust.”

Wiesenthal, who has a master’s in Holocaust and genocide studies and is pursuing a PhD in the same field, pioneered the course three years ago. Until then, the Holocaust was dealt with as part of the larger Jewish history curriculum.

She acknowledged that most King David students come to the subject with some familial or other knowledge of the subject, whereas non-Jewish students, such as those in places like Tennessee, might have no knowledge of the history.

“It’s important to contextualize it,” she said.

A testament to free speech

A new book on an incendiary topic turns out to be not quite as expected. The Conflict over the Conflict: The Israel/Palestine Campus Debate, by Kenneth S. Stern, may be the most comprehensive assessment of the (at least) 20-year battle on North American campuses between pro-Israel and anti-Israel forces.

Jewish and pro-Israel readers picking up the work might anticipate a litany of horrors, anti-Zionist if not antisemitic incidents, brawls, screaming matches, vandalism, boycotts and the like. There is that. But Stern argues that the perception that campuses are aflame in anti-Zionist rage is simply not true. More, he offers proof that the pro-Israel side is far from innocent of engaging in disgraceful tactics, too. There is ill will and there are bad actors on both sides. Most unexpectedly, as much as the book is about the conflict, it is more than anything an exercise in applied ethics on the topic of free expression.

Stern is the director of the Bard Centre for the Study of Hate, an attorney and an author. For 25 years, he was the American Jewish Committee’s expert on antisemitism and he was a lead drafter of the Working Definition of Antisemitism. He is also, it appears, something close to a free speech purist. As such, he rails against efforts by Israel advocates who have organized campaigns to censure (and censor) anti-Israel voices. He doesn’t let the other side off easily, either, calling out acts of harassment like drowning out pro-Israel speakers with the “heckler’s veto.”

The book, from New Jewish Press, an imprint of University of Toronto Press, begins with an empirical assessment. In institutions of higher learning in the United States, Israel is an issue in very few, he writes.

When speaking with Jewish audiences, Stern asks for a show of hands to gauge perceptions on anti-Israel attitudes. He asks for guesses on how many American colleges have divested from Israel.

“Many seem surprised when I say ‘zero,’” he writes. “There are relatively few campuses where Israel is a burning issue, and every year the number of pro-Israel programs … is usually at least double the anti-Israel ones. There are over 4,000 campuses in the U.S. – in the 2017-18 academic year, 149 had anti-Israel activity.… So the campuses aren’t burning.”

He does not dismiss the extreme tensions on a few campuses, however.

“[O]n some campuses where anti-Israel activity is prominent, pro-Israel Jewish students may feel marginalized, dismissed or vilified, sometimes with antisemitic tropes.” Identity politics and the conflation of Jewish people with “whiteness” creates racial conflict. “[T]he labeling of Jews as white becomes a problem when shared victimhood becomes a sacred symbol, a badge of honour, a precondition to enter a club of the oppressed. Antisemitic discrimination is rendered invisible.”

Though bigotry may play a role in the discussion, Stern does not see constructive resolutions in neologisms like trigger warnings, safe spaces and microaggressions.

“Faculty should have the right to give trigger warnings if they want, but I never do, and I think the idea is a horrid one,” he writes. “I teach Mein Kampf. It’s disturbing – get over it. College should prepare one to be an adult, and there are no trigger warnings after graduation day. Why are we encouraging students to be ostriches? Shouldn’t they, rather, be learning how to navigate things that will likely unsettle them over the rest of their lives?”

He quotes CNN commentator Van Jones, a strong civil rights proponent, who opposes “safe spaces” on campus: “I don’t want you to be safe ideologically. I don’t want you to be safe emotionally. I want you to be strong. That’s different. I’m not going to pave the jungle for you. Put on some boots and learn how to deal with adversity. I’m not going to take the weights out of the gym. That’s the whole point of the gym.”

Stern contends a fundamental error has been made in defining terms.

“We want campuses that are open to expression – including, perhaps even especially, difficult and disturbing ideas – but which protect students from real harassment and intimidation. Hate speech codes were efforts to say that ideas themselves can harass and intimidate. Ideas can and should make one uncomfortable (a comfortable college education is a wasted college education). But harassment is something different.”

Strategically, he argues, trying to censor hateful ideas is self-defeating and advances hate agents by martyring them.

“By trying to censor, rather than expose and combat, speech the students perceived as hateful, they were actually helping the alt-right and white supremacists,” writes Stern. “It’s no coincidence that the white nationalists in recent years have wrapped their racist and antisemitic messages around the concept of free speech. Why would progressives allow these haters to steal the bedrock democratic principle of free speech, disingenuously saying that this is what their fight is about? By trying to deny alleged racists platforms, progressives are helping white supremacists recast their vile message as noble protection of a right.”

Another strategic failure, he argues, is buying into the Palestinian narrative’s good/evil dichotomy.

“Israel’s case is best understood as inherently complex and difficult; playing into the ‘all bad’ and ‘all good’ binary of the other side renders those complexities invisible,” he writes.

The conflict on campus spills over, of course. Israel has created a list of 20 organizations, those that urge boycotts of the country, for instance, and bars their members from entering the country. Stern sees this as counterproductive: “You don’t make the case that blacklists (especially of academics) are proper if your goal is to oppose blacklists. You are conceding the argument.”

He gives an example of an anti-Israel campus activist who defends his group’s refusal to meet with Zionists “over cookies and cake” because “you Jews, in all due respect, you wouldn’t sit down with Nazis for tea and cake.”

He also reflects on the “Standards of Partnership” adopted by Hillel International, the Jewish campus organization, which proscribe engaging with groups or individuals that deny Israel’s right to exist, or who delegitimize, demonize or apply a double standard Israel, who support BDS or who exhibit “a pattern of disruptive behaviour towards campus events or guest speakers or foster an atmosphere of incivility.”

Writes Stern: “For those who are not yet ideological soldiers, but want to learn more, and want to do it around their campus Hillel, what sense does it make that adults are telling them they can only bring in certain types of speakers? Yes, the adults defined BDS as hateful. But does it make sense to tell students they have to go elsewhere than the Jewish address on campus to hear about it firsthand from those who support it?”

The litany of bad behaviours on all sides of the ideological divide is likely to make readers of Stern’s book uneasy, whether the reader is Zionist or anti-Zionist. But it is a rare and uncompromising testament to free expression that should give genuine free speech advocates an uplift, particularly in an era when ideologically driven regulation of expression and ideas, especially on campuses, has left many advocates of core liberal, academic values feeling beleaguered.

Time to face ourselves

Actor and comedian Sacha Baron Cohen delivered the keynote address last month at an Anti-Defamation League conference. His words quickly went viral because he pinpointed fears and challenges shared by millions about the power of social media. He hit many nails on the head.

“Democracy, which depends on shared truths, is in retreat, and autocracy, which depends on shared lies, is on the march,” he said. “Hate crimes are surging, as are murderous attacks on religious and ethnic minorities. All this hate and violence is being facilitated by a handful of internet companies that amount to the greatest propaganda machine in history.”

He was referring to social media like Facebook and Twitter and platforms like YouTube and Google, whose algorithms, he said, “deliberately amplify the type of content that keeps users engaged – stories that appeal to our baser instincts and that trigger outrage and fear.”

Had Facebook existed in the 1930s, he went on, it would have run 30-second ads for Hitler’s “solution” to the “Jewish problem.”

Baron Cohen acknowledged that social media companies have taken some steps to reduce hate and conspiracies on their platforms, “but these steps have been mostly superficial.”

“These are the richest companies in the world, and they have the best engineers in the world,” he said. “They could fix these problems if they wanted to.” The companies could do more to police the messages being circulated on their sites, he suggested.

He’s correct about the problems. But the first problem with his solution is that he is asking a couple of corporations to judge billions of interactions, making them not only powerful media conglomerates, which they already are, but also the world’s most prolific censors and arbiters of expression. Of course, by abdication, they are already erring on the side of hate speech, but is the alternative preferable? If we think Facebook chief executive officer Mark Zuckerberg has too much power now, do we really want to make him the planet’s censor-in-chief?

Yes, the platforms benefit from and, therefore, promote, the most extreme viewpoints. But, even if we could, would forcing those voices off the platforms make the world a safer place? There are already countless alternative spaces for people whose extremism has been pushed off the mainstream sites. Just because we can’t hear them doesn’t mean they’ve gone away.

Marshall McLuhan, the Canadian philosopher who declared “the medium is the message” died four years before Zuckerberg was born. He could have predicted that social media would change the way we interact and communicate. But has it fundamentally changed who we are? Or has it merely allowed our true selves fuller voice? Perhaps a little of both. Facebook, Twitter and the others are not agnostic forces; they influence us as we engage with them. But, in the end, they are mere computer platforms, human-created applications that have taken on outsized force in our lives. And all the input is human-created. Since the dawn of the industrial age, we have imagined our own inventions taking over and controling us, from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to 2001: A Space Odyssey’s Hal to Zuckerberg’s Facebook.

In all these cases, fictional or not, the truth is that the power remains in human hands. This is no less true today. We could, if the political will existed, shut down these platforms or apply restraints along the lines Baron Cohen suggests. But this would be to miss the larger point.

We live in a world filled with too much bigotry, chauvinism, hatred and violence. This is the problem. Dr. Martin Luther King said: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” And there are plenty of sites on social media that advance mutual understanding and love over hate. Are their messages as likely to go viral? Probably not. But that, ultimately, is determined by billions of individual human choices. A small but illuminating counterrevolution seems to be happening right now with a renaissance of the ideas of Mister (Fred) Rogers and his message of simple kindness. While much of the world seems alight in hatred and intolerance, a countermovement has always existed to advance love and inclusiveness. This needs to be nurtured in any and every way possible.

If Facebook were a country, its “population” would be larger than China’s. Bad example when we are discussing issues of free speech and the accountability of the powerful, perhaps, but illuminating – because an entity of that size and impact should be accountable. As a corporate body, it has few fetters other than governmental controls, which are problematic themselves. Concerned citizens (and platform users) should demand of these companies the safeguards we expect. We are the consumers, after all, and we should not ignore that power.

But neither should we abstain from taking responsibility ourselves. Social media influences us, yes. But, to an exponentially greater degree, it is merely a reflection of who we are. It is less distorted than the funhouse mirror we like to imagine it being. If what we see when we look at social media is a depiction of the world we find repugnant, it is not so much social media that needs to change, it is us.