When I grew up, certain things were immovable. They stood like fixed points in our history books, in school lessons, in the films we watched and in the conversations between adults. The Holocaust was one of those points. It was not “one chapter among others,” but a moral foundation. Something the entire post-war European order rested upon. A warning of what happens when hatred, ideology, and dehumanisation replace humanity.
We did not only learn what happened. We learned why it happened — and, above all, why it must never happen again.
That is why Nazis were hunted decades after the war ended. In South America, in the Middle East, wherever they hid. They were brought to justice not for revenge, but for principle. The message was unmistakable: some actions do not expire. Some crimes never become “history” — they remain part of humanity’s permanent moral debt.
And yet, here we are now. With the unsettling sense that something has broken.
The Collapse of Memory
What surprises me most today is not the conflict in the Middle East itself. It is old, tragic, and deeply rooted. What surprises me is how quickly historical compass points have been lost in Europe and the West.
We live in a time where information is everywhere, yet understanding seems increasingly rare. Where images replace context. Where emotion overrides cause and consequence. Where historical knowledge is reduced to opinion — and where morality suddenly becomes negotiable.
When Hamas carried out its attack on October 7, it was not politics. It was not “resistance.” It was not symbolism. It was a massacre. Deliberately aimed at civilians. Children, families, young people at a music festival. Acts that leave no room for interpretation.
And yet, the relativisation began almost immediately.
That is where I stop and ask myself: what exactly did we learn in school?
Lines That Must Not Be Crossed
History teaches us that there are acts that transcend all political, ideological, and cultural boundaries. The deliberate murder of civilians is one of them. It does not matter which flag one carries, which history one invokes, or which injustice one claims to represent.
This was precisely the lesson after World War II.
“Never again” meant never again for anyone. Never again meant that we would never again accept that people are turned into legitimate targets simply because of who they are.
The moment that principle begins to erode — when “but” and “on the other hand” start creeping in — we are standing on a slippery slope.
The Illusion of Surprise
Another thing that astonishes me is the performative shock at Israel’s response.
As if anyone who has actually read history — not tweets, not slogans, but history — could believe that a state like Israel would not respond forcefully after such an attack.
Israel is not just any country. It is a state founded in the aftermath of Europe’s greatest moral collapse. A country whose existence has been questioned, threatened, and attacked since day one. A country that has never had the luxury of believing in its own permanence.
To expect Israel to respond to October 7 with restraint and symbolic gestures is not idealism — it is historical illiteracy.
States respond to existential threats. Always. They did so in 1944. They did so in the Balkans. They do so in Ukraine. They do so now.
Understanding this does not mean uncritically endorsing everything that follows. But pretending that some other response was realistic is to deny how the world actually works.
Hamas and the Strategic Dead End
It is impossible to discuss this without distinguishing between Palestinian civilians and the power structures that claim to represent them. Hamas is not Palestine. But Hamas has repeatedly chosen a strategy that turns Palestinian civilians into both hostages and battlegrounds.
A movement that defines itself through the destruction of another state can never build a future — only prolong tragedy.
Palestinian leadership has had decades to build institutions, an economy, and hope. Too often, it has chosen the politics of martyrdom instead. This is a destructive path — not only for Israel, but for the Palestinian people themselves.
No state on Earth accepts a neighbour whose declared goal is its annihilation. That is not ideology. That is self-preservation.
Europe’s Moral Confusion
What troubles me most, however, is Europe’s role. A continent that once swore to remember. That built its post-war identity on the lessons of the Holocaust. That promised antisemitism would never again be tolerated.
Today, we see Jews in Europe once again forced to hide symbols, avoid certain places, and live with threats. At the same time, voices emerge explaining why this is somehow “understandable.”
This is where the alarm bells should be deafening.
Because when Jews’ right to safety is questioned again — regardless of context — then we have not merely forgotten history. We have chosen to abandon it.
Compassion Without Consequence Is Not Morality
It is both possible — and necessary — to grieve civilian lives in Gaza. To feel anger at human suffering. To demand humanitarian aid, accountability, and political solutions.
But compassion without an understanding of consequences is not morality. It is sentimentality.
Morality requires the ability to hold multiple truths at once:
– Hamas committed an indefensible crime
– Israel has the right to defend itself
– Civilians must never be targets
– Long-term solutions require more than weapons
Reducing this complexity to slogans betrays both the victims and history itself.
When “Never Again” Becomes “It Depends”
Perhaps the most dangerous shift of our time is linguistic. We have moved from absolute boundaries to conditional principles. From “never again” to “it depends on the context.”
But history shows us that this is precisely where decay begins.
It always starts with good intentions. With a desire to understand. With empathy. And it ends with the inability to draw clear lines.
I do not claim to have all the answers. But I know this: you do not do what Hamas did. We knew that. We were taught that. And if we now pretend we no longer know the difference between right and wrong, then it is not history that has changed.
It is us.
By Chris...
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