Yes, we are all New Zealanders today. We are all Muslim, grieving for our brothers and sisters in faith. We were all Jews after the murders in the synagogue in Pittsburgh, we were all African-American Christians after murders in the church in Charleston. We were all French after the Bataclan murders; we were all Americans after the World Trade Center was destroyed; we might even have all been Hindu after the bombs in Mombai. We might even have all been Japanese after someone murdered people with sarin gas in the subway in 1995. I don’t rememember. We were all Charlie Hebdo, I remember that.
No-one cares who we all are.
I mean, maybe if we actually were Muslim immigrants to New Zealand for a week and then we really were European tourists in a shopping center in Bavaria the next week, and then the week after that every one of us was living in Kashmir, and then maybe round out the month by having all billion upon billion of us be children in a suburban high school in the US. I mean, if we all had and retained all those experiences, lived them and kept them in our memories, and then identified with them as part of our history, I dunno, maybe if that actually did happen, people wouldn’t be moved to murder strangers quite so often. Or maybe we’d all just cry, all the time.
Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,