The Sentimental and the Homicidal

This is from Commentary, so you won't be surprised by the pro-Israel language; but that's not what I want to talk about. I'm interested in the critique of sentimentalism, and how it dovetails with the embrace of homicidal impulses.

The poshlost* comes in the form of poetry, too. One Palestinian poet writes:

With clean hands,

he gently sifts the flour,

and adds a handful of yeast.

He pours the warm water

for the yeast particles to live,

then rolls and kneads and rolls

and kneads the dough. 

He lets the soft mass rest.

With firm but gentle hands,

he rounds it into balls,

flattens them into shape,

and handles each one

delicately into the oven.

 Soon, perhaps in half an hour,

the bread rolls are born fresh,

healthy and browned.

The newborn breads breathe,

yet dust chokes the air,

searing gases penetrate

their thin, fragile crusts.

 On the day of their birth, a missile,

a bakery, a scattering

of zaatar, flesh, and blood.

The sentimentalism here portrays the baker as gentle and loving, nurturing: "He pours the warm water for the yeast particles to live," the poet says. He lets it rest. He is delicate in his handling. Well, yes; I make bread too. I also feed the yeast, usually with honey but sometimes with blackstrap molasses. 

A poet is allowed license, but it strikes me -- as a frequent baker -- that it would be just as legitimate to describe the act as monstrous. The yeast's whole life is enslaved to the production of gases to make the bread rise; all the nurturing is just to get the yeast to eat and excrete so that the dough will be fluffy. Meanwhile, not the missile but the oven killed the yeast: the 'newborn breads' are actually newly killed, the yeast slaughtered in its millions in the bald service of the baker's naked interest in eating leavened bread. 

Because the frame chosen is the loving, nurturing one, it masks the horror done by the same hands.

The novelist Milan Kundera, who well knew the horrors of totalitarian rule, has nicely skewered false sentimentality: “Two tears flow in quick succession. The first tear says: how nice to see children running on the grass! The second tear says: how nice to be moved, together with all mankind, by children running on the grass.” Put another way, “sentimentality is that peculiarly human vice which consists in directing your emotions toward your own emotions, so as to be the subject of a story told by yourself,” as the English philosopher Roger Scruton noted in his autobiography.

The sentimentalists are playing a double game: They are dispensing, and attracting, warm feelings and approbation for themselves and their kind, while at the same time providing cover for totalitarians and terrorists.

That is correct, as far as it goes, and we see it again and again. I have grown sadly accustomed to seeing the endorsement of murder and assassination -- against that healthcare CEO by "Luigi," against Musk, against Trump or his supporters -- by the very people I know most inclined to sentimentalist broadcasts. They would never go so far as to say "I wish someone would kill him," but they will definitely go as far as to say that it would be just, that it would be deserved, that it would be understandable. After all, those men provoke such bad feelings in their sentimental hearts. 

* Poshlost is explained in the article's beginning, and is an interesting Russian word. Zaatar is a spice/herb mix that is common in the Levant.