Today the war between the State of Israel and the different militia groups supported by Iran seems to have no end. If a scale of atrocities can be established, today’s are worse
Max Aub, exiled in Mexico City, sent every year’s end to his friends a mock diary of a couple of pages, printed in two inks, with the heading “El Correo de Euclides”, after the name of the street where lived.
In July 1967, outraged by the Six Day War, which took place on June 5 and 10 of that year, between Israel and Egypt, Syria, Jordan and Iraq, Aub edited an extraordinary issue of his parody diary. He opted, as was common for him, for poetic sarcasm and black humor as antidotes to pain. He imagined and announced that kings, potentates, rulers and dictators had reached a delirious distribution of powers and territories, and thus peace had been achieved. The headlines on the front page detailed the agreements reached: “Solution of the Arab Jewish conflict”, “Nasser accepts the Kingdom of Murcia”, “Palestinian refugees to Valencia, Aragon and Catalonia where they will be at home”, “Jerusalem, relegated to oblivion” , “England cedes Gibraltar to the king of Morocco”, and so on.
Aub had spent a few months in Israel, from November 1966 to February 1967, commissioned by UNESCO, to teach a course on the history, literature and culture of Mexico at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem: «I thought I had something Jewish, not because blood (what, poor thing, what do you know about that?) but because of the religion of my ancestors – my parents did not have it – and I came here with the idea that I was going to resent something, I don’t know what, that I was going to face with myself. And there was nothing.
He was disgusted by the pre-war atmosphere he saw there. He recorded it like this: «On this side, the rich, the proud, the clean (the hygienic); there, the dirty, the poor, the crowded; the wall of class war (…) I had never seen nationalism lead to these excesses and, what is perhaps worse, saying the opposite.
He protested against the sinister tragedy of the Six-Day War with a book, “Imposible Sinaí,” written in 1967 and published posthumously by Seix Barral in 1982. It is a fictional compilation of writings, diaries and poems created by imaginary authors who have in mind common its participation in the brief war (June 5 to 10, 1967) that pitted the Israeli army against those of Egypt, Jordan, Syria and Iraq. Aub compiled and commented on some “writings found in the pockets and backpacks of dead Arabs and Jews”, written “in classical Hebrew, Ladino, Yiddish, common Hebrew, classical Arabic and common Arabic”, whose authors were young soldiers taken to war already death due to the murderous imposture of the opposing nationalist and religious fundamentalisms.
One of the writings says: «You were a Jew, I was a Mohammedan. Neither you nor I were hurting each other. / The two Semites, the two dark, four black eyes, curly hair. / – Now we are two dead people: dark-skinned, with blank eyes, with curly hair. / If they changed our uniform… / —Besides, frankly, it’s not worth it.
Wars can be short, long or endless. The one in 1967 was short. That of Vietnam (1945-1975) was long. Today’s crisis in the Middle East runs the risk of being endless if a reaction does not occur that unites moral revolt with tenacity and intelligence. Many observers are comparing the current situation, of absolute military and technological predominance of Israel, with the 1967 war. The differences between both moments are many. That conflict was a confrontation between armies and did not last long. Today the war, which confronts the State of Israel and the different militia groups supported by Iran, seems to have no end. If a scale of atrocities can be established, today’s are worse. Aub lamented the death of young soldiers; Now entire families of four generations have died under the bombs.
It is not difficult to imagine what Max Aub would say about what happens. The equanimity of the texts of “Impossible Sinai” (Arabs and Israelis speak equally of the horror and senselessness of the war that confronts them) did not prevent its author from taking sides. He saw the conflict as a civil war, and compared it to the Spanish Civil War that he had experienced: “This is not a war between Muhammad and Abraham, but an old civil war (…) This is an old, old, old war as “all the civil wars, which never end because the disasters always leave embers.”
In his Diaries, Max Aub is blunt: “If I had to choose between one and the other—to fight—by deciding for the Jews I would have the impression of being in our war fighting for Franco, all proportions being kept.”
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