This is not what a Nazi looks like
When I was 13 I went on holiday camp to Hungary and enjoyed myself, swimming in the Ballaton lake and using hands and feet to communicate with people. The next summer I went to Spain but this time I took a small English dictionary, so I could look up words and make sure that no one finds out that I am German. Having learned about my home country’s darkest past in the previous school year I was deeply ashamed of my heritage. I had always liked travelling and meeting different people. Though I grew up in a small suburb where everyone pretty much looked the same I never had any reservation towards people who looked different. In fact I still pay so little attention towards people’s looks that for years I believed my housemate’s hair to be blonde when it is in fact brunette and I have mixed up several people at my work place but could identify them again correctly once I remembered what we had talked about. According to the current strand of progressivism a person is racist when they don’t notice someone else’s skin colour. Fortunately, I have now left all German guilt behind and no longer worry about whether not instantly recognising that my best friend was Mexican when I first met him makes me racist. But when I was in my formative years and sat through the story of the holocaust in almost every subject except sports and maths, I was convinced that somehow behind my open-minded verneer there was a racist lurking in the shadows, waiting to come out any moment … While no one objected to my German nationality in Spain or years later on my stay as an Au-Pair in London I still fell fool to the story of an exchange student from London, who claimed that a class of Germans who had travelled to the North of the UK had been pelted with stones and their teacher had said to them: “No matter how poor your English is, don’t speak German”. In my following years on exchange in the UK, I came across many sections on WW II in museums, even in museums where they seemed out of place. However, there was never any reservation towards my being German. Quite on the contrary, I met quite a few people who shared stories with me of how they visited Berlin when the wall was still up. That was fascinating and I could see their empathy towards a people that were living under occupation without ever having committed any crime. My shame and what I now call ‘German guilt’ began slowly to diminish. It made a last desperate attempt to come back to life when I saw Hitler’s “Mein Kampf” being sold at a newsagents in Karachi / Pakistan. That book is forbidden in Germany and had to me always seemed like toxic material that no one should get their hands on. Now being in a city where people were violently murdered every night and day, feeling guilty for crimes, people that I am not related to had committed when my dad was a small child, suddenly seemed ridiculous. Here, the last dictatorship was only a few years past and thus it was no real surprise that people were a lot more relaxed towards the one whose name must not be said within the country that he brought so much blood shed to. I later learned about the genocide in Cambodia, Srebrenica, Ruanda and other parts of the world and realised that being German does not make one predisposed towards racism. There is not a country on earth whose inhabitants have not committed acts of cruelty against other human beings. Violence knows no nationality, race or sex.
Hence why the current fashionable talk of men as inherently violent makes me very uneasy. I feel a new kind of guilt, for being part of the half of the population on whose behalf men are asked to atone for sins that they have never committed. Since speaking out against feminism and misandry I have had to read statements from male feminists that made me shudder. In their self-flagellation they sounded so much like 14 year old me, claiming that discrimination against men is the right way forward as men constitute an inherent danger towards women … I cringe when I read the words of these men who look at their masculinity as something toxic and harmful towards society, when it has in fact built our infrastructure and saved many a woman’s life.
I personally was so intrigued by the atrocities committed by Germans in the past that I read many books on the subject from the library. From my classmates, however, I heard more than once that they were fed up with hearing about it in almost every class. As if they hadn’t understood it’s wrongness the first ten times around. When I now see what’s in the media referred to as casual racism I sometimes wonder if it couldn’t just be people who are fed up with being the eternal nazis. That is a thought I had more than once since the xenophobic Pegida movement surfaced about a year ago. Maybe, just maybe it does not do the human psyche any good when people are constantly told that they are the worst of the worst.
I certainly think we need education about the holocaust. I certainly think we need sexual education for young boys and girls. I certainly do not think that telling people they are genetically predisposed towards racism makes them open-minded. I certainly do not think telling men they are genetically predisposed towards physically harming women and enjoying seeing them suffer makes them empathic human beings. Yes, I do not only believe that consent-workshops are a waste of people’s time. I do also believe they are harmful.
Then how can we reduce sexual assault rates? I could not say it any better than George in his interview with Lauren Southern: “One of the things people have been asking me, what would I have as an alternative to consent classes. The way in which I learned not to rape people was through my upbringing. I was fortunate to be raised by very decent and very admirable parents and I am so grateful for that and. But I realise that not everybody has that privilege. Not everybody comes from a stable household. Not everybody comes from a household where their parents were there for them. So I think to teach consent we need to have long-term fundamental education. By fundamental education I mean being taught not what consent is and what it isn’t but what beinga decent person is. Exactly, so my mother never went to me: “George. don’t go into a club and don’t put your hand up a girl’s skirt.” She said to me: “George treat other people with decency and respect.” From that the rest follows. From treating people with respect you learn not to rape people and you learn not to abuse people.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKuAVEX5ats)
This is not what a rapist looks like
To these words i have nothing to add as they adequately represent my own attitude towards life. What I could add is that my upbringing was not as stable as George’s but I still managed to not abuse people and also to protect myself against abusive people for all my adult life. So his point about self-reliance and individual responsibility instead of the currently fashionable victim attitude also strongly resonated with me. Also, during my youth I witnessed plenty of violence and thus know with certainty that violence knows neither sex, nor age, race or nationality. I will probably write about some of my observations on another post. However, after almost two years of being openly anti-feminist I know that the internet is not misogynistic as the Sarkeesians like to claim but very unkind towards people whose opinions differ from the commonly accepted narrative.