Pastelli
Platinum Member
- Nov 6, 2023
- 1,787
- 974
See how he connects it all.
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Scenes from the massacres
Sunday marked the 200th anniversary of the unveiling of Eugène Delacroix’s Scenes from the Massacres at Chios, a fourteen-by-twelve-foot oil painting now housed in the Louvre. To Martin Kramer, this painting, with its images of huddled survivors and scattered corpses, “cannot but evoke the primal brutality of October 7.” He explains its historical background:
In 1822, the prosperous Ottoman-ruled island of Chios, in the Aegean Sea, was seized by Greek insurgents. The Ottomans recaptured the Greek-populated island with a ferocity that shocked Europe. Estimates vary, but the Ottomans massacred, enslaved, and starved as many as 100,000 Greek Christians, leaving the island depopulated. Graphic accounts of savage torture spread across the continent, fueling the philhellene movement with rage and resolve. In composing his painting, Delacroix relied on such reports, as well as conversations with a French eyewitness.
In Kramer’s view, the connection to the depredations of Hamas is more than just visual:
The foremost French specialist on Islam and politics, Gilles Kepel, in his new book Holocaustes: Israël, Gaza et la guerre contre l’Occident, has presented October 7 through the lens of its perpetrators, as a ghazwa (razzia in European parlance): a raid deliberately intended to subjugate and dehumanize a non-Muslim adversary. The Mohammad conducted such a raid against the Jewish tribes of the Khaybar oasis in Arabia in the year 628.
The line that connects the years 628 and 2023 (with 1824 along the way) is one of traditionally Muslim and now Islamist supremacism. It not only promises victory but seeks to inscribe it upon the bodies of the vanquished.
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Scenes from the massacres
Sunday marked the 200th anniversary of the unveiling of Eugène Delacroix’s Scenes from the Massacres at Chios, a fourteen-by-twelve-foot oil painting now housed in the Louvre. To Martin Kramer, this painting, with its images of huddled survivors and scattered corpses, “cannot but evoke the primal brutality of October 7.” He explains its historical background:
In 1822, the prosperous Ottoman-ruled island of Chios, in the Aegean Sea, was seized by Greek insurgents. The Ottomans recaptured the Greek-populated island with a ferocity that shocked Europe. Estimates vary, but the Ottomans massacred, enslaved, and starved as many as 100,000 Greek Christians, leaving the island depopulated. Graphic accounts of savage torture spread across the continent, fueling the philhellene movement with rage and resolve. In composing his painting, Delacroix relied on such reports, as well as conversations with a French eyewitness.
In Kramer’s view, the connection to the depredations of Hamas is more than just visual:
The foremost French specialist on Islam and politics, Gilles Kepel, in his new book Holocaustes: Israël, Gaza et la guerre contre l’Occident, has presented October 7 through the lens of its perpetrators, as a ghazwa (razzia in European parlance): a raid deliberately intended to subjugate and dehumanize a non-Muslim adversary. The Mohammad conducted such a raid against the Jewish tribes of the Khaybar oasis in Arabia in the year 628.
The line that connects the years 628 and 2023 (with 1824 along the way) is one of traditionally Muslim and now Islamist supremacism. It not only promises victory but seeks to inscribe it upon the bodies of the vanquished.
