The memory of pain runs through generations. The fact that your grandfather was whipped by Franco's Moorish Guard makes your grandchildren feel a certain sensation in their backs, just as you notice the glasses you had, like a headband, on your head when you take them off.
All Jews carry with them the memory of the most terrifying moment in world history, due to its methodical and planned nature: the Holocaust. Locking up adults and children in concentration camps, forcing them to work arbitrarily (who remembers the magnificent Bent, by Martin Sherman, with the two prisoners carrying stones back and forth, lethally and absurdly?) and starve them to death. I mean, there would be those who would deny or "qualify" the Holocaust!
Now we see them in Gaza. Israelis, cleansed of those starving people of Auschwitz, Mauthausen, Gusen (this one, a alleged grim infirmary), from Ravensbrück (this one, for women), don't notice, now, the memory of those corpses and those survivors, it seems inconceivable to me. Why starve them, like they starved their own? How can we not remember these images? How can we not always have them present? What do these children, stretched out in hospitals (how swift hunger and its effects are), lack for being like those others we have seen in documentaries and also in films? Surely only a striped uniform. These children will not even have literature.
