Amos Oz on Imagination

The state has no imagination. "The imagination of the state" exists only in the imagination of some writers, like those who invented our title here. Some writers have indeed died in jails and gulags while others have thrived in courts and dachas. Moreover, "the sweet and simple common people" out there are neither sweet nor simple. We know, most of us, better than that. Just read your own books and see. The "state" is a necessary evil simply because many individuals are very capable of being very deadly. Moreover, some states are almost fair, some are bad, some are lethal. And since writers are, or at least ought to be, in the subtleties department and in the precision department, it is our job to differentiate. Whoever ignores the existence of varying degrees of evil is bound to become a servant of evil.

The tragedy of history is not the perpetual hopeless clash between saintly individuals and diabolical establishments, but rather the perpetual clash between the relatively decent societies and the bloody ones. To be more precise: the perpetual cowardice of relatively decent societies whenever they confront the ruthlessness of the oppressive ones.

How can one be humane, which means skeptical and capable of moral ambivalence, and at the same time try to combat evil? How can one stand zealously against fanaticism? How can one fight without becoming a fighter? How can one struggle against evil without catching it? Deal with history, without becoming yourself exposed to the poisonous effect of history? Three months ago, in Vienna, I saw a street demonstration of environmentalists protesting against scientific experiments on guinea pigs. They carried placards with images of Jesus Christ surrounded by suffering guinea pigs. The inscription read: HE LOVED THEM TOO. Maybe he did, but some of the protesters looked to me as if eventually they may not be above shooting hostages in order to bring an end to the sufferings of the guinea pigs. Which is what I'm talking about in a nutshell--which is, to some extent, the story of my own country, and the story of do-gooders here and there, and maybe everywhere.

Let us not ascribe a demonic imagination to the state and a redeeming imagination to ourselves. It's all in our own heads--let's not give in to the temptation of simplifications. We ought to be telling bad from worse from worst.