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