8 | DECEMBER 30 • 2021

L

ooking back at 2021 in the
hope of having something
sensible to say about the
past year, I found myself musing
on a perennial question: Is
history a story of
progress, in which
greater numbers
of human beings
become healthier,
happier, more
affluent, more
tolerant and more
educated with
each year? Is it a story in which
we learn from our past errors
and those of our predecessors in
order to not repeat them?
Or is history a series of
random cycles, in which health,
happiness and wealth are at best
fleeting experiences in a world
where the same ills return to
overcome us, regardless of the
era we live in?
One’s perspective on this to
a great extent is determined by

one’s context. The experience
of a citizen of Norway, say,
lends itself well to the view that
history is about the unfolding
of progress, whereas the life
of someone in Afghanistan
contrastingly suggests that
history is a matter of enduring
the same tribulations at different
times. In this latter rubric, all
solutions are temporary and all
problems return.
Regardless of where you live,
however, both interpretations
of history can make sense. At
the end of the Cold War 30
years ago, the view of history
as progress — sometimes
called the “Whig” view so
as to accent that progressive
element — was everywhere, to
the point that some analysts
concluded that history was
essentially over. Western
democratic capitalism — with
its complex of economic and
political rights, and its emphasis

on maximizing individual
freedoms — was the destination
where much of humanity had
already disembarked, with the
remainder certain to arrive there
sooner or later.
That was, in crude terms, the
theory. And it turned out to be
little more than a theory, or less
charitably, wishful thinking.
In these present years defined
by a pandemic, by the marked
souring of democratic politics,
and by alarming economic
and environmental signals, the
notion that history is a story of
eternal recurrence with little
progress makes far more sense.
“There is no remembrance of
former things; neither shall there
be any remembrance of things
that are to come with those that
shall come after,
” observes the
book of Koheleth (Ecclesiastes).
I have lost count of the number
of times that events during
the course of this year have
reminded me of that haunting
verse.

A LOOK BACK
In May, to take the most
obvious example, we witnessed
renewed conflict in the Gaza

Strip provoked by Hamas
terrorist attacks on Israel. The
triggers for the 2021 conflict
were much the same as during
the conflicts of 2008-09 and
2014. The goal of Hamas — the
elimination of Israel — was also
the same. Unchanged as well
was the strategy of the Israel
Defense Forces — to defend
Israel’s civilian population and
territorial integrity without
invading and occupying Gaza.
Then, over the summer, we
witnessed the ignominious
withdrawal of the U.S. military
from Afghanistan and the
return of Taliban rule. For
anyone with living memories of
Al-Qaeda’s terrorist atrocities
of 20 years ago, the realization
that their Taliban backers
hadn’t moderated one jot in the
intervening period didn’t come
as a shock, but it was brutal
nonetheless. In the weeks that
followed the Taliban reconquest,
global outrage at their brazen
abuses of human rights was
so pronounced that it briefly
diverted our attention from the
ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.
But empathy for those outside
our borders only lasts so long.

Ben Cohen
JNS.org

essay
2021: Past, Present
and Future

PURELY COMMENTARY

Yiddish Limerick

New Year’s Day

Dos iz nit Rosh Hashanah,
mir rufn dos New Year, a naye 2022 is almost here.
So lomir zogn hob a gut yohr
Hob gezunt un sholem and much, much more
Un make a l’chaim mit a glezale of beer.

Dos iz nit: this is not
Mir rufn dos: we call it
A naye: a new
Lomir zogn: let us say
Hob a gut yohr: have a good year
Hob gezunt un sholem: have health and peace
Mit a glezale: with a little glass

By Rachel Kapen