The Voice With the Greatest Power

 

There is much at stake at the present time. Each passing day seems to bring to the fore yet another threat to something we once took for granted. Speaking out can be daunting, exhausting, and even scary. Which is why it’s so uplifting when voices of wisdom and goodness join together. There is power in unity. It also doesn’t hurt if we can find someone rich, famous, and powerful to speak out along with us. The rich, famous, and powerful seem to have whatever je ne sais quoi it takes to influence large numbers of people. They amplify our message, and we vicariously enjoy the benefit of their power.

Do you recall Taylor Swift being criticized for not taking a stand this past election season? We apparently couldn’t bear to see such power go unused! The Left wanted the power of her voice, and so did the Right, even though nobody really knew which way she was leaning for quite some time. No doubt many of her fans were hugely disappointed once she finally did endorse her candidate. But people were already disappointed in her for her previous unwillingness to take a stand. She was in a difficult position.

Of course, we may never know whether Swift took the stance she always intended to take or whether she performed some private calculus as to what would be most financially beneficial for her—this stand, that stand, or no stand. Nonetheless, I think it’s safe to say that even the rich, famous, and powerful don’t always have the privilege to remain silent. Ah, but at times they do.

Elie Wiesel, Nobel Peace Prize Winner

 

I recall another instance when the power of another’s voice was so desired. It was December, 2009—about a year after the start of The War on Gaza (2008-2009). Elie Wiesel, a Holocaust survivor and Nobel Peace Prize winner, came to speak at St. Louis University.

Now, those familiar with Wiesel’s legacy will recall the powerful words he spoke during his Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech: “I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” Thus, I was hoping to hear Wiesel speak out at St. Louis University in support of the Palestinian people whom I viewed (and still view) to be so oppressed by the expanding state of Israel.

While standing in line on the way into the venue, I encountered a young man whom I’d met at a talk on the future of Palestine two evenings prior. He was passing out leaflets inviting Wiesel to “Come with us to Gaza!” Us, the leaflet stated, included Hedy Epstein (a local St. Louisan and Holocaust survivor herself), a thousand people from 40 countries, and 50,000 Gazan Palestinians. They intended to be part of the Gaza Freedom March calling attention to the humanitarian crisis underway there after the war that started about a year earlier. Not accidentally, of course, the leaflet also included a variation of Wiesel’s statement that “neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.”

After the young man left, I overheard the conversation of some Jewish people behind me. At least, I deduced their Jewishness by their accents and their discussion of the Israeli wedding of a friend. One of them remarked about them (the writers of the leaflet) “having the nerve” to use a quote from Elie Wiesel. He tore up the leaflet.

The audience was rapt and attentive throughout as Wiesel spoke of being sensitive to the suffering of others, the hopes and fears of others. He spoke of the need to transcend our Jewish, Jesuit, and Buddhist selves, etc. in order to be in relationship with each other. He echoed the I-Thou philosophy of Martin Buber (with whom he shares Hasidic Jewish roots) in stressing that it is in relationship with each other that we find meaning. He said he feared that we’ve learned nothing from the Holocaust. If we had, he said, there wouldn’t have been genocide in Rwanda, Darfur, or Bosnia. But he also stressed hope, and he stated that his was a generation that had many reasons to lose hope but chose not to. He encouraged everyone to sign petitions and make their desires for peace known to their leaders.

At the conclusion of his talk, Wiesel took questions from the crowd. I happened to be viewing the talk from an overflow room with remote video feed. The questioners were off camera, so I couldn’t see how they came to be delivering their questions. That said, somebody (invited or not, I do not know) invited Mr. Wiesel to come to Gaza. The invitation was repeated and Wiesel stated, without elaboration, that he had heard her and moved on to the next question. A question or so later he stated, without any further elaboration, that he was not indifferent to the suffering of the Palestinians. And yet he offered no words of support or comfort whatsoever.

I found the situation puzzling. So expectant was I of something more profound, pertinent, and helpful for the alleviation of suffering! Why did such an eloquent and peaceful man as Elie Wiesel find it so difficult to find words that might bring both sides toward greater understanding? Looking back, might the then-distant massacre at the Supernova Music Festival near Re’im kibbutz in 2023 and the subsequent retaliatory massacre of upwards of 45,000 Gazans have been forestalled if he had?

No, I’m not going to blame Elie Wiesel for the latest war in Gaza. Nonetheless, the massacre at the Supernova Music Festival near Re’im kibbutz in 2023 was precipitated by the hopelessness, frustration, and desperation of a long-oppressed people. How long can the suffering of a people be ignored before violence eventually erupts? Indeed, when justice is lacking, there can be no peace. Silence in the face of injustice is violence in and of itself.

Yes, the history of the Jewish people and the formation of the state of Israel is rich and complex. And, of course, the resolution of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict seems as insoluble to logic as the most daunting koan. But the fact that so many seem blind to the ironic parallel between Jews being forced into the ghettos of Warsaw (for example) and Palestinians being forced into the ghettos of Gaza and the West Bank is puzzling to me.

Was Elie Wiesel blind to that irony? He spoke eloquently—from a place of wisdom rooted in deep suffering. He spoke encouragingly and inspirationally. And yet, he said nothing in support of the Palestinian people. He said nothing to alleviate the suffering of the many victims in Gaza.

We can’t count on the voice of another to amplify our own. It’s up to each and every one of us to speak truth to power. Indeed, the rich, famous, and powerful do have the ears of the masses, even when speaking nonsense. In the end, though, the most powerful voice is the one that gets used. 

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This post is in the Power, Practice, and Peace series.

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Images

Elie Wiesel, Nobel Peace Prize Winner, taken in Wash. D.C. on December 4, 1996. Copyright John Mathew Smith via: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Elie_Wiesel_1998.jpg

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Power, Practice, and Peace logo courtesy of the author.

 

 Copyright 2009 and 2025 by Mark Robert Frank