Something good came out of that Olympic moment of silence controversy

I was recently talking to someone about this blog, and he said one thing that stuck with me – something like but not necessarily, “It’s hard to believe you write the blog. You seem like such a nice guy in real life, but online, you’re such a critic.” And I get it: it’s easier to tear things down than build them up, and — since I often choose the former route — it’s possible I don’t always come off as the nicest guy online.

But though that may be the rule, every rule has its exception (except Godwin’s), and in this post I mean to draw your attention to an instance in which Paper Treiger served to unite rather than destroy.

You may recall when, in the lead-up to the 2012 Olympic Games in London, a brief controversy erupted over whether the IOC ought to hold a moment of silence in honor of the 40th anniversary of the Munich Olympics, which saw 11 members of the Israeli delegation killed by the Palestinian terrorist organization Black September.

The controversy created a minor debate in the Jewish blogosphere. Some, like Deborah E. Lipstadt, forcefully argued that the IOC was wrong to deny this request. After all, London was permitted to honor the victims of the 7/7 subway victims, an event which had absolutely nothing to do with the Olympics (save its location), while the tragedy in Munich had occurred inside the Olympic village. Others, like noted pro-Palestinian activist and sometimes terrorist sympathizer Elisheva N. Goldberg responded that the IOC ought not to hold the moment of silence at the opening ceremony because the IOC President held a separate commemorative ceremony elsewhen.

Meanwhile on Paper Treiger, I thought that the two sides were arguing for absolutely no purpose. Whether or not the IOC decided to hold a moment of silence was irrelevant, because such a commemoration could never be enforced in practice. I’m not going to rehash the post’s entire argument – if you want to see how I imagined the moment of silence would play out, see What would happen if the IOC actually held a moment of silence for the 1972 Munich Massacre? – but I do want to draw your attention to the effect it had: it brought the two warring factions into agreement.

And I only just learned this fact.

I recently searched Twitter for “Paper Treiger” – you know, a blog vanity search. It was the first time I had ever done this, so I found myself scrolling back pretty far in time. And when I got to July 2012, I came upon something amazing:

Could 2013 be the best year for online comments ever?

If you made it this far online, you’re no doubt familiar with the mantra: Don’t read comments on the internet — for any reason, ever, no matter what, no matter where, or who or who you are with, or or where you are going, or, or where you’ve been. Ever. For any reason. Whatsoever. (~Michael Scott)

As recently as yesterday, I was fully on board with that message. I even retweeted a pair of tweets (what else do you retweet?) to that effect:

"What an interesting article! I can't wait to read what the average internet denizen thinks about it!" Just stop right there. You're wrong.

— Don't Read The Comments (@AvoidComments) December 4, 2012

Nobody on their deathbed ever said, "I wish I had spent more time reading internet comments."

— Don't Read The Comments (@AvoidComments) December 7, 2012

In fact, my resolve was fortified as recently as this morning, when I experienced first-hand adventures in commenting in response to my most recent thoughts on Russell Wilson.

Still, I found myself reflexively reading comments — because I will do anything not to study — and for the first time in recent memory, it paid off: I came across perhaps one of my favorite online comments ever.

Some quick background: On Sunday against the Redskins, the Seahawks lost their leading pass-rusher, DE Chris Clemons, for the rest of the season (i.e. through the Super Bowl). To replace him, they signed Patrick Chukwurah, who hasn’t played in the NFL since 2008 and hails from Nigeria. And so it was that in a thread announcing the signing, I came across my favorite comment of all time:

What would happen if the IOC actually held a moment of silence for the 1972 Munich massacre?

Danny Gordis and Elisheva Goldberg have gotten into a little bit of an internet feud over the past few weeks.

It started when Gordis wrote a column for the Jerusalem Post – A Dose of Nuance: Walking away from Alice Walker – regarding the author’s refusal to translate her signature work, The Color Purple, into Hebrew. Goldberg’s response on Open Zion – Alice Walker Is Not An Anti-Semite – took issue with the following excerpt from Gordis’ original piece:

Nazi Germany, we should recall, began with boycotts of Jewish businesses, with the boycotting of Jewish intellectuals and professionals.

To Goldberg, this meant Gordis had “accused Alice Walker of Nazi-grade anti-Semitism,” a charge he vigorously disputed in a response titled, At least a few shades of grey. There might have been more back-and-forth of which I am unaware, but this isn’t the kind of piece for which I intend to do a lot of research. That’s because I can’t wait to get to the part where I come in. This morning, Gordis posted the following on Facebook:

The Youtube comments I chose to censor

On Monday, I made the worst possible mistake on the Internet: I provoked the ghost of Godwin.

More specifically, I wrote about the Holocaust, and in doing so invited an army of Poles (who seem to be members of a Yahoo! group devoted to ‘Polish Media Issues’) to descend on Paper Treiger in a valiant effort to defend the honor of their motherland.

I found many of the comments generally reasonable, though understandably motivated by the desire to deflect any blame away from Poland:

Hi,
You write that the German Nazi extermination camp Treblinka was largely run by Poles. Can you provide some sources for your statement?
/Artur Szulc

I checked my original source, realized that I could not substantiate that particular claim, and updated my post to reflect that fact.

But other comments were less helpful, in that they failed to address my main point, or failed to address my main point and were also just sort of offensive: