The Weight of Silence: Cultural Institutions, Proportionality, and the Call for Universal Justice
The recent controversy surrounding the flanders Festival in Ghent, Belgium, and its decision too remove the Munich Philharmonic, has ignited a crucial debate about the responsibilities of cultural institutions in the face of political conflict. This incident, stemming from the Philharmonic’s invitation of conductor Shani, a vocal supporter of the Israeli military’s actions in Gaza, underscores a fundamental principle: to restrain oppression, cultural spaces must permit its critique. To stifle dissent is to inadvertently bolster the forces of injustice.
The core of the issue lies in proportionality. The Flanders Festival’s decision to exclude Shani was, arguably, justified. A conductor actively championing a military campaign widely criticized for its impact on civilian populations cannot reasonably claim neutrality,and a platform offered to such a figure risks legitimizing actions many deem unacceptable. However, this action has been contrasted sharply with what the author perceives as a systemic pattern: Germany’s exclusion of Palestinian voices from cultural platforms. This disparity raises a critical question of fairness and consistency.
The author argues that the removal of the Munich Philharmonic from the festival,while contentious,sparked a necessary public conversation about the potential for cultural platforms to inadvertently legitimize state violence.The condemnation from some ministers following the decision highlights a troubling double standard. Those same voices, the author contends, should demonstrate equal commitment to defending Palestinian artists, writers, and academics when their platforms are unjustly removed.
Restoring integrity to cultural institutions requires concrete action. The author proposes several practical steps: establishing autonomous panels to evaluate contested invitations based on substantive merit, not political pressure; providing context and counter-arguments alongside perhaps controversial presentations, rather than resorting to outright cancellation; and ring-fencing funding for minority cultural programming to ensure marginalized voices are heard. Crucially, institutions should develop clear guidelines distinguishing between legitimate criticism of state policy and hate speech, avoiding the reflexive labeling of critical perspectives as inherently hateful.
This call for consistency is rooted in a deep ethical framework. The author draws upon Islamic teachings, citing verses from the Quran – “And incline not toward those who do wrong, lest the Fire touch you” (Surah Hud, 11:114) – and a Hadith from Sahih al-Bukhari emphasizing the importance of restraining oppression. The Ahmadi Muslim outlook, advocating for lawful resistance to injustice, further reinforces this principle.
The author’s central argument is that true cultural values cannot be credibly defended through selective submission. Germany, if it genuinely mourns the suffering of one people, must demonstrate equal empathy for another. If it champions one narrative, it must be willing to listen to all narratives. justice, the author insists, demands universality.
Ultimately, the author envisions cultural institutions as spaces for arduous conversations, for the telling of uncomfortable truths, and for the exercise of conscience. Until Germany extends freedom of expression equally to all, the author concludes, its moral standing will remain compromised, and the silenced voices of Gaza will continue to resonate as a haunting reminder of the injustice endured. The call is clear: to practice the values it professes, Europe – and Germany specifically - must allow Palestinian novelists to receive their prizes, Jewish artists to critique Israel without fear, and Syrian-Palestinian poets to share their verse, while simultaneously refusing to provide platforms for those who actively champion violence and oppression.
