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Bare Trees in Fog

“We didn’t say any thing.”

Writer's picture: Marie LaureMarie Laure

“He was a Nazi.” He had invited her to breakfast then talked openly about hating “these” people, and“those” people who are not like him i.e., white. “We didn’t say any thing,” said my friend recounting her experience in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She seemed to wish that she had said something. I asked: “Why don’t we say anything?” The question hung there between us.


One week ago, Nazis carried red flags bearing swastikas and marched in formation down the Main Street of Nashville, Tennessee on a Saturday afternoon. They wore their uniform of red shirts and black face masks to hide their identities.*


From Nashville to Santa Fe and everywhere in between, the “idea” of Nazis rising up as if they are part of the mainstream is just beginning to take hold in a visible way. It is shocking. It is frightening. It is intended to both shock and frighten you and me. Last summer while in Berlin, I sensed a contriteness over their own Nazi history that the world should never forget. It is becoming clear that given the chance, a next generation of fascists will try again to obliterate entire populations of "those" people. In Germany, the reminders live on in memorials, in remnants of a wall that is no more, and in gold inlaid markers embedded into sidewalks where Jews were forcibly taken from their homes in broad daylight. Each "stumbling stone" bears the name and year of birth and death of a Jew who had lived there and was killed in a concentration camp built by Nazis for one purpose and one purpose only: annihilation. Nobody said any thing.


Why don't we say any thing when confronted with an ideology that dehumanizes others? The term Nazism is defined as:


Rejecting rationalism, liberalism, democracy, the rule of law, human rights, and all movements of international cooperation and peace, it stressed instinct, the subordination of the individual to the state, and the necessity of blind and unswerving obedience to leaders appointed from above. It also emphasized the inequality of humans and races and the right of the strong to rule the weak; sought to purge or suppress competing political, religious, and social institutions; advanced an ethic of hardness and ferocity; and partly destroyed class distinctions by drawing into the movement misfits and failures from all social classes**


All of the above is meant to do exactly what it says, in a word: disempower. Any one who does not adopt such a perverse ideology should somehow be rendered silent. The simplest way to disempower large groups and individuals is to strip them of their own voice. But how?


It starts innocently enough when we self-censor. For example, the neighbor down the street may want to engage in that conversation about how these/those people are the problem with this country. Rather than starting an argument, or having an uncomfortable conversation, we do not say any thing. Or, at work, or school, or let's be honest, at church, words spoken out loud that are offensive, oppressive, or outright lies go unmet with any opposing comments. This self-censoring is exactly the tactic that Nazis used within neighborhoods as neighbors let neighbors be unjustly harassed at home! We know that was only the beginning of that horror story. In part it was allowed to happen because nobody said any thing.


Main Street USA on a Satruday afternoon has its own place in our American lives and memories and psyches. Whether downtown or rural, Main Street has traditionally been where people go to shop, or take the kids for pizza, or to simply stroll and stop on the sidewalk to linger with an old friend. It is the main thoroughfare for the Fourth of July and Memorial Day parades when town officials and local children wave to folks from the neighborhood while the school band plays on. This may sound like a Rockwellian portrait of a long ago America, and to some degree I would agree. Yet, when a nefarious group trespassed on that American icon in the "hometown of country music" our reaction is visceral and must be vocal. "These" people, "those" Nazis signaled to the rest of us with their red flags their intentions to destroy Main Street and all that it signfies, forever. They rightly wave "red flags" as a warning to be heeded. The warning is meant to silence us. If we let silencing begin it is at our own peril. Let's remember that Nazis got away with murder because neighbors stood by silently.


In the words of author, Timothy Snyder*** . . ."people who were living in fear of repression remembered how their neighbors treated them. A smile, a handshake, or a word of greeting -- banal gestures in a normal situation -- took on great significance. When friends, colleagues, and acquaintances looked away or crossed the street to avoid contact, fear grew. . . In the most dangerous of times, those who escape and survive generally know people whom they can trust. Having old friends is the politics of last resort. And making new ones is the first step toward change."


The shock value will wear off as Nazis show up in the commonplaces of middle America where they live, too! After a while, their presence will have a numbing effect on our sensibilities like seeing homeless people on every street corner in America. The Nazi threat is not from yesteryear. It is marching down the streets where we live. When we do not say any thing, they get the message.


I, and I hope you, too, will choose to add your voice to the people of Nashville who DID say something to the masked cowards who tried to take power over their Main Street, and therefore over all of us. https://x.com/brotherjones_/status/1758936273153085941?s=20



Please add your voice (anonymously if you prefer) in the comments section as a first step and a show of solidarity. This is our best hope against those dark ideologies. We must get used to saying some thing rather than not saying any thing.




***"On Tyranny Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century"




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Invitado
27 feb 2024

I can only imagine (and hope) what I would do if I were to witness a Nazi parade, wherever I was. I imagine I would park my car and march alongside them chanting something contrary...like "Choose love, not hate. We are all precious in the eyes of God. Choose love, not hate."

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Marie Laure
Marie Laure
28 feb 2024
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Appreciate the comment.

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Invitado
27 feb 2024

Haters hide behind the fluffy skirts of the constitution - especially the first amendment. I understand that for me to say what I want to say, l've gotta hear things I disagree with, BUT (And THAT'S A BIG BUTT!) where is the line between harsh and hate? Is there another outlet for that darkness? Social media cements together groups with pretty much any belief, no matter how random. i.e. Bet I could get a get people to join me in this pseudo hate. "I HATE BLUE EYED REDHEADS." I mean, who wouldn't? (lol)

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Marie Laure
Marie Laure
28 feb 2024
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Thanks for the comment.


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© 2023 by Marie Laure

​Six Stages of Pilgrimage:

  • The Call:

  • The opening clarion of any spiritual journey. Often in the form of a feeling or some vague yearning, a fundamental human desire: finding meaning in an overscheduled world somehow requires leaving behind our daily obligations. Sameness is the enemy of spirituality.

  • The Separation:

  • Pilgrimage, by its very nature, undoes certainty. It rejects the safe and familiar. It asserts that one is freer when one frees oneself from daily obligations of family, work, and community, but also the obligations of science, reason, and technology.

  • The Journey:

  • The backbone of a sacred journey is the pain and sacrifice of the journey itself.  This personal sacrifice enhances the experience; it also elevates the sense of community one develops along the way.

  • The Contemplation:

  • Some pilgrimages go the direct route, right to the center of the holy of holies, directly to the heart of the matter. Others take a more indirect route, circling around the outside of the sacred place, transforming the physical journey into a spiritual path of contemplation like walking a labyrinth.

  • The Encounter:

  • After all the toil and trouble, after all the sunburn and swelling and blisters, after all the anticipation and expectation comes the approach, the sighting. The encounter is the climax of the journey, the moment when the traveler attempts to slide through a thin veil where humans live in concert with the Creator.

  • The Completion and Return:

  • At the culmination of the journey, the pilgrim returns home only to discover that meaning they sought lies in the familiar of one's own world. "Seeing the place for the first time . . ."

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