Over the past nine months, we have witnessed one of the most well-documented cases of genocide in the Gaza Strip. Around the world, there have been massive mobilizations and genuine unrest in protest against this brutality. Even in the United States, we have seen massive demonstrations and protests against our government’s unwavering support for the Israeli occupation forces and leaders.
In this climate, a long-standing and ineffectual narrative has resurfaced: Many accuse pro-Israel officials of being on the wrong side of history, actively supporting a genocide that is on public record, with the hope that history will somehow hold them accountable.
But if the historical record were truly a concern to those in power, the president of the United States wouldn't be answering questions about the genocide that is taking place every day while eating a double scoop of mint chip ice cream.
This idea was born out of the need to soothe the Western conscience. And it is not out of a lack of historical awareness that this narrative has taken root; in fact it is often the opposite: for those who know the many historical tragedies and atrocities on which the current world order is built, there seems to be a need for some kind of higher justice, one that is more lasting than a few months of bad opinion polls and scathing op-eds.
But what the “wrong side of history” narrative actually does is undermine our ability to address the very real situation of the present.
To move away from seeing history as a kind of karmic justice against the most powerful people in society, we must first understand our relationship to history.
There is a tendency to treat history as a bullet-point summary of highlights rather than as the sole story of our existence on this planet, as if we are experiencing events in a vacuum and not really existing within a context shaped by the past. This often leads to a superficial or incomplete perception of historical reality.
In his 1965 Ebony magazine essay “White Guilt,” James Baldwin wrote: “Those who imagine that history glorifies them… […] “Like a butterfly transfixed by history, we become transfixed by it, unable to see or change ourselves or the world.” He is right in this assessment, but what he, and many of us today, do not consider is the extent to which the most powerful people in society will go to remove the heavy guilt of history from their shoulders.
A good example of what I mean is the work of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. During his lifetime, he was deeply unpopular with the American people, and it was only many years after his death that the majority of people's minds slowly began to change.
Some people today believe that the prevalence of Dr. King's message is evidence that history will give people the sense of justice they are looking for. I don't think this is true for two reasons.
First, to say that history has vindicated King largely ignores the actual mechanisms of change that he helped to establish: it was not the goodness of their hearts that caused the majority of Americans to embrace King's message, but rather the concerted, day-to-day efforts of black communities that brought about that change.
Second, King's legacy has been significantly watered down in public to make it more palatable to the majority. A man whose beliefs and philosophy were rooted in the radical anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist tradition has been reduced to little more than the patron saint of white guilt.
The distortion of King's legacy is just one example of how history is distorted to make it more understandable or convenient for white supremacist power structures. This process has been taken to an extreme by recent efforts to rewrite black history, such as in Florida, where local governments have changed education standards on black history to teach students that slavery brought “personal benefit” to black people.
And just as history can be used to distort memories and understandings of struggles against oppression in the public sphere, it can also be used to cover up the oppressors.
In recent years, we have seen how the legacies of leaders like George W. Bush and Ronald Reagan have been carefully rehabilitated. Instead of facing accountability for war crimes during the so-called “war on terror,” Bush now enjoys retirement, posing for portraits, attending public events, and commenting on news developments as a respected former government official.
But despite his atrocities, which range from funding death squads in Latin America to supporting the racist apartheid regime in South Africa, he is praised by Democrats and Republicans alike for his courage and past policies.
It's not that the most powerful among us don't care about their legacies when making decisions; they know they have the resources and influence to change public perception while they're alive, or that after their death, the argument of “decency” can be used to soften criticism if they commit crimes against humanity.
Viewing history as the ultimate equalizer is dangerous, not only because it is not, but because it provides an easy outlet for feelings of helplessness and insecurity, thereby undermining any real efforts at change.
We must recognize that to maintain an accurate record of history, we must rely on our greatest tool: organizing, and the lessons we learn from those who organized before us.
As historian Howard Zinn wrote in his seminal book, A People's History of the United States, “The memories of the oppressed can never be erased, and for those who bear such memories, rebellion always lies just below the surface.”
In fact, memory and rebellion are inextricably intertwined. People who know and acknowledge their history are actively crafting it; they are not passive bystanders. Holding those in power to account is not a foolish act; organizing is the way to achieve it.
Joe Biden, Benjamin Netanyahu and those responsible for the mounting death toll in Palestine are relying on the uncomfortable fact that many in the West have very short memories when it comes to murder committed in the service of American interests.
Hoping that history will hold these individuals accountable for acts committed because of systems of oppression is futile: it may temporarily ease our anxieties, but ultimately it paralyzes us at a time when urgent action is needed.
Injustice is not something that is naturally resolved by history. It is something that is challenged and fought by people who stand up to dismantle systems of oppression.
The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial policy.
