Günter Grass: What Must Be Said

Quick translation of the poem published in the Süddeutsche Zeitung on April 4, 2012


What must be said


Why am I silent, silent for too long about
what is plainly evident, about what is drilled
in war games at the end of which we
survivors are, in any case, footnotes.


It is the asserted right to a first strike
that could eliminate the Iranian people
enslaved and made into organized celebrants
by a mouthy hero because in his realm an
atombomb is supposed to be in construction.   


But why do I not allow myself
to name that other country by name
in which, for years — although kept secret —
a growing nuclear potential lies ready
but not monitored because there is no access
for investigators?  


The general silence about this state of affairs
in deference to which my silence exists,
I experience as a burdensome lie
and constraint with punishment implied
the moment it is disregarded;
the verdict "antisemitism" is understood.


Now however, because my country,
a land of ancient characteristic crimes
without comparison,
again and again taken to task and called to explain,
once again and as a business transaction, if also
claimed cavalierly as reparation,
is to deliver an additional submarine
to Israel, whose specialty
is to have the capability of directing annihilating warheads
to where the existence of a single atomic bomb is unproven,
though fear wants to provide the proof,
I say what must be said.


Why, however, was I silent until now?
Because I thought my ancestry,
afflicted by a never-to-be-overcome stain,
requires that this fact never be spoken as truth
about the land of Israel to which I am bound
and want to remain bound.


Why say only now,
aged and with my last ink:
The atomic power of Israel endangers
world peace, delicate in any case?
Because what could be too late as early as tomorrow
must be said;
also because we — as Germans burdened enough—
could be contributors to a crime
that can be foreseen, with the consequence that our complicity
could be overcome by none of
the usual excuses.


Admittedly: I remain silent no longer
because I have had enough of the hypocrisy 
of the West; in addition, one might hope 
that many might free themselves from silence,
challenging those responsible for the predictable danger
to renounce violence and
also to require
that unhindered and permanent oversight
of the Israeli atomic potential
and of the Iranian atomic facilities
by an international court
be allowed by the rulers of both countries.


Only thus can all find succor, the Israelis and Palestinians,
and even more, all people who live densely packed together 
as enemies in these 
regions occupied by insanity
and in the end we too.


[SEE MICHAEL ROLOFF'S COMMENTS FOR LINKS TO THE ONGOING CONTROVERSY, INCLUDING ISRAEL'S ANNOUNCEMENT THAT GRASS IS NOW A PERSONA NON GRATA]


. . . a response today (20 April) from poet Alex Caldiero:

What must be said after Gunter Grass’ What Must Be Said

You say what must be said with such

delicacy and consideration for the inevitable

feelings of those who would rather not hear

what you have to say, and who would prefer

to gag you even as you hesitate and carefully

craft your words so that they should not offend

which makes them that much  more offensive,

an inevitable outcome, bigger that language

almost, if it were not for words themselves

by nature divested of any invested meanings

but one: what ever must be said must not be

said in any way that would put the situation

into question, that is, what must be said must

not be said at all, and so I would turn it into

a question thus: What must be said? and

How must it be said? And I would ask that

of the only one who could possible answer:

Oh Israel! Tell us! What words must we use

to override any misunderstandings? Tell

us, how should we word or describe and allay

any kind of disapproval which you may

feel by words only superficially couched in

criticism, but which are cripples on rough

terrain. – Have we said it yet? And How will

we know that we have said it? There, getting

close, too close for comfort, so we must be

saying it right now. The submarine, oh

Israel! You know the one? The one for

your self-defense, that which no one

should deny you, self-defense, which

is indefensible for any one to question

your right to it, it’s just that…that…and

this much must be said, but cannot be

said, even by far better writers than

I, who am using the English language,

Or, to be more exact, the American

Language, which is so quick to hide

and fog the glass of clear conscience

in past decades of indiscretions,

language at the service of politically

constructed thoughtfeelings never

to sound out its liberty bell with

clapper in hand of some one or

other and Whitman himself would

have been tongue tied in the

middle of his rhap-sody, and

which should I hope otherwise

for any of us who even dare to

think what must be said and

must leave it unsaid, even

at the risk of seeming

to betray conscience

and good sense

and ideals

that

have

no

bal

ls

no

guts

best

kept

cast

rate

d &

at

pe

ac

e

at

least

this

much

said.