In his attempt to define the threshold test for obscenity, Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart famously remarked, “I know it when I see it.”
We’ve seen—and heard—a few things over the past few weeks that clearly cross the threshold.
On Jan. 10, the school board of McMinn County, Tenn., voted unanimously to ban “Maus”—Art Spiegelman’s Pulitzer Prize-winning graphic novel about the Holocaust—from its middle school curriculum, claiming that the book’s profanity and nudity made it unfit for middle school students. As David Corn writing in “Mother Jones” put it: “Of course, it’s ridiculous to object to an account of the mass murder of six million Jews and millions of others because of salty language and (animal!) nudity. But that’s what happened. Spiegelman told the New York Times it seemed to him the board members were asking, ‘Why can’t they teach a nicer Holocaust?’”
I’ve used “Maus” as a text when teaching middle school students, and I can relate first-hand how powerful, approachable, important, and singular this text is. The “salty” language contained in the book includes words that you’ll hear on network television these days, and the nudity—as noted above—is limited to Spiegelman’s illustrations of naked cats and mice. I dare say that most every middle school student in this country has seen far more explicit material on the internet.
The school board’s decision denies these students a pedagogically-sound, effective, and age-appropriate opportunity to learn about this critically important historical event. I’m not sure if it’s motivated by antisemitism, a desire to spare these middle schoolers from the disturbing facts of genocide, or a broader campaign across the country to ban books that parents find objectionable for a particular reason. What I do know is that it should disturb us as Jews for a few reasons. First, because—as the Rambam taught centuries ago—we must accept truth wherever it is to be found (“ושמע האמת ממי שאמרו”, Introduction to the “Shmoneh Perakim”). For him, the search for truth by studying history and science was a path to the knowledge of the Divine—the most exalted pursuit imaginable. Second, because the removal of such an effective, relatable teaching tool for young people will erode the already-woeful state of Holocaust education and awareness in our country. A 2020 survey indicated that a staggering 63% of adults surveyed did not know that six million Jews were murdered in the Shoah.
This week, during a roundtable discussion of the school board’s decision on “The View,” we saw Whoopi Goldberg share her belief that the Holocaust was about “man’s inhumanity to man” and “not about race.” Any student of history (or even a fan of Mel Brooks’ “The Producers”) knows that the Shoah was very much about race. The Nazis considered Aryans racially pure, and saw Jews, conversely, as an inferior race that had to be exterminated like vermin for the common good. In Art Spiegelman’s parlance, while cats and mice are both animals, they are clearly different species, and the role of the superior species is to eradicate the inferior.
On Tuesday, Amnesty International released a report labeling Israel an “apartheid” state. While one can certainly criticize Israel’s policies in the West Bank, the label is a form of demonization that crosses over to antisemitism. The Reform movement’s response to the report makes this case quite clearly.
There is something obscene and disturbing about each of these episodes. Book banning is inherently problematic, all the more so when we consider how the Nazis themselves employed this technique to further margenalize Jewish authors who were already considered “Others.” Removing Jews from the Holocaust or portraying it as an event about hatred generally rather than about Jew hatred specifically is offensive. Critique that repeatedly crosses over to demonization becomes a form of hate speech.
When we see—as we do so often these days—the obscenity of antisemitism, or, to generalize, other forms of xenophobia, we have to call it what it is. We have to speak the truth about its nature and hope that, in so doing, others will accept this truth—this correction—and respond.
Searching out, accepting, and embracing truth—especially a challenging one—can be painful. Yes, being exposed to the horrors of the Holocaust is disturbing for a feeling person of any age, but to hide this truth is obscene. Calling out others for failing to see the truth of our experience can be uncomfortable, but it is a discomfort that can lead to greater understanding. Confronting distortions of the truth that are increasingly broadly accepted can be a lonely endeavour, but it is painfully necessary.
Whenever and wherever, whether it’s easy or if it’s hard, when we see the truth distorted, we must raise our voices.
— Rabbi Yoshi Zweiback