Man in a word has no nature; what he has. ..is history.
~ Jose Ortega y Gasset
I am sitting here trying to find some happy little story to post in order to break up the litany of horror that my blog has become, but … I can’t. Even the articles I find about folks that sympathize with the natives do so because the indigenous people were suffering such atrocities. I can’t seem to filter out the bad when I write about that time period, and probably shouldn’t try to. Violence and disregard for human rights, Native human rights, permeated everything. I am writing about war, and war is ugly. Terrible.
Perhaps part of why we do repeat history is that we don’t like to look at it. Why would we? The things human beings are capable of are scary as hell. We like to believe in cause and effect. Personal cause and effect, in that there is a reason bad things happen to people. And if we can believe there are reasons, then we can also fool ourselves into believing we can control our fate, and avoid bad and scary things. History, if carefully considered, blows that theory out of the water.
If one wants to read a truly terrifying book, find Holocaust Testimonies, the ruins of memory, by Lawrence L. Langer. It contains testimonies of survivors and while the memories recounted are heartbreaking, the greater realizations are even worse.