There But For the Grace of God.

Tonight I started watching a film called The Book Thief. It’s set in Germany in 1938, and we all know what was going on in Germany in 1938. It scared and depressed me for two different but connected reasons:

Scared because I know that the darkness and depravity to which so many people – almost a whole nation – were persuaded by the application of charisma and finely chosen words was not a peculiarly German phenomenon. It’s a universal component of the human condition. It always has been and I’m sure it always will be. Kristallnacht could happen anywhere given the charisma, the words, and the circumstantial background. Indeed, versions of it have already happened since then in other parts of the world.

Depressed because there’s a question to which I don’t know the answer: If I’d been there, would I have joined in? I don’t think so, not because I’m too good or civilised or noble a person, but because I’m strongly and congenitally disinclined to join things or follow crowds. Would that be enough, I ask myself, and is it a good enough reason?