Disposable People Studies

Although I’ve been at it for over fifty years, I have never been comfortable with the phrase, “Holocaust Studies” as a description of my field. I am not alone. I know colleagues who avoid the term because of the range of responses it evokes: anything from anxious silence to some version of “Gee, that must be tough.” Some of my colleagues try to avoid the issue by saying “Holocaust and genocide studies.” The addition of “genocide” seems to make it all less parochial and thus more vaguely “universal” or “humanistic.” Still, the reality is that most of those who use that phrase devote at least 90% of their work to the Holocaust. For them, the “genocide” add-on is a distraction from anticipated uncomfortable responses. It’s kind of like saying “Jewish” rather than “Jew.” The “ish” suggests something vaguely like rather than the thing itself.

These days, such word-arounds have evoked a lot of condemnation. Like Gay Pride or Black is Beautiful, it is in vogue to be openly and proudly a Jew. No more “gentlemen’s agreements,” no more trying to “pass,” no more worrying about being “too Jewish.” Rather, we are told to proudly embrace who we are. If we are a pain in the ass to the powers that be, let us offer no apology for the pain we inflict on asses.  That’s their problem, not ours.

All this makes sense in the midst of escalating antisemitism. It has often been true that Jews—like other targeted groups—respond to others’ rejection by embracing who we are even more insistently. Many of my Holocaust survivor friends recall the arrival of assimilated Jews from Germany, Austria, or the Netherlands into the Polish ghettos. Some number found being locked into a Jewish enclave to be vaguely liberating. They imagined the ghetto as a mini Jewish state. The mandated star could be a badge of pride. Yiddish could be learned. Tradition could be found.  Of course, we know how that worked out. But it is the psychological inclination, not the reality of history, about which I write. And perhaps some number did enjoy feeling like authentic Jews before they were murdered.

In any event, in the context of current trends, I find myself going in the opposite direction. I am, indeed, proud of who I am. I would be a Jew whether I chose to be or not. It is in my way of speaking and writing. My perception of the world. My kind of humor. My personality traits, some of which are admirable and some frankly obnoxious. It is in my optimism and the opposite. Either way, I am not Jewish. I am a Jew. Full stop.

And yet…as Elie Wiesel would habitually say at such moments. If I were to honestly say what my “field” is—that is, where my heart is—it would not be “Holocaust studies.” It would not be “Holocaust and genocide studies.” It would be “Disposable people studies.” It would be a preoccupation with the great mass of humanity, probably the majority of humanity, who find themselves in the way of other people’s “projects.” Who are in the way of the highway that needs to cut through, and destroy, their neighborhood. Of the data center that will suck up the electricity and water on which their lives depend. Or the chemical plant that will poison them immediately or through the creation of a “cancer alley.” Or the new drug the dangers of which are disguised in a zillion ways (I used to teach about pharma) because, after all, blockbusters are blockbusters. Stockholders rely on profits. Employees depend on a company’s success. So it stands to reason that others—those whom the new drug has killed or maimed–are disposable in the interest of such righteous ambitions.

The reality is that only a relatively small proportion of people become disposable because they are targeted in genocide or other war crimes. The named enemies suffer horrifically. But so do those who find themselves with no recourse in the face of the powerful whose project demands that the powerless get out of the way. And who find ways to dispose of the disposable.

There is nothing “personal” in this kind of liquidation. Not even the distinction of being the enemy of all goodness, the Satanic Crown that Jews have so often been awarded. The disposable are just debris. “Collateral damage” of a kind that goes far beyond Naza calculations. Here, there are usually no calculations at all. Just riddance.

So in the future, when I am asked what I teach, I will say “Disposable People Studies.” And let others worry about what the hell I’m talking about (knowing that many, perhaps most, will know exactly what the hell I’m talking about).