In addition to his celebrated 1932 novel Journey to the End of the Night, Louis-Ferdinand Céline wrote three political “pamphlets”—one nearly 400 pages in length—between 1937 and 1941 warning of the Jewish threat to France. These often-scatological works endorse wild anti-Semitic conspiracy theories and justify the murder of Jews. Last year, the French publishing house Gallimard announced its plans to publish a new edition of these pamphlets, leading to months of intense controversy in France. Eventually Gallimard backed down, although not without issuing a statement that “condemning [the pamphlets] to censorship hinders efforts to reveal their roots and ideological reach and cultivates an unhealthy curiosity instead of critical reasoning.” Robert Zaretsky responds:

First, it has never been a question of censorship. The pamphlets can be found not just in libraries and used bookstores . . .  but also on the Internet, where one can download a PDF in seconds. Besides, the work of examining the literary roots and measuring the ideological reach of these pamphlets has been under way for decades. From Alice Kaplan’s pathbreaking work . . . to Pierre-André Taguieff and Annick Durafour’s recent study Céline, le race, le juif, there has been no shortage of scholarly works. (Or for that matter damning ones: Taguieff and Durafour reveal that Céline denounced a number of French Jews to the Vichy authorities.) Finally, Gallimard’s refusal to issue the pamphlets à la Mein Kampf—namely, with the texts buffered by a solid critical apparatus—would more likely encourage than discourage “an unhealthy curiosity.”

But this last point nevertheless raises a number of questions. How reasonable is the assumption that a full-blown scholarly edition of Céline’s pamphlets would protect innocent readers against its radioactive qualities? . . . Why, in fact, do we need a critical edition of Céline’s murderously anti-Semitic ravings at all? As the historian Tal Bruttmann remarked, Céline’s pamphlets, unlike Hitler’s Mein Kampf, which is historically unavoidable, hardly deserves such attention. His writings were not a blueprint for a totalitarian state’s war aims, but instead a collage of rancid claims thrown together by a vile man who happened to be a great novelist. What do they tell us—apart, that is, from that Céline was an anti-Semite? That is hardly, Bruttmann drily concludes, “a great discovery.

Hamas declared yesterday that it won’t release more hostages “until further notice.” Given the timing and wording of the announcement—several days before the release was supposed to take place, and speaking of a delay rather than a halt—Ron Ben-Yishai concludes that it is a negotiating tactic, aimed at “creating a temporary crisis to gain leverage.” Therefore, writes Ben-Yishai, “Hamas may reverse its decision by Saturday.” He adds:

Israel cannot afford to concede to Hamas’s demands beyond what is already outlined in the agreement, as doing so would invite continuous extortion throughout the negotiation process, further delaying hostage releases.

The group sees the public outrage and growing calls for action following the release of hostages in severe medical condition as an opportunity to extract more concessions. These demands include not only a rapid start to negotiations on the next phase of the deal and an end to the war but also smaller, immediate benefits, particularly improved conditions for displaced Gazans.

Beyond these tactical objectives, Hamas has another goal—one that Israelis do not always recognize: inflicting psychological pain on the Israeli public. The group benefits from, and perhaps even draws strength from, the anguish and emotional distress in Israel, as well as the testimonies of freed hostages detailing the abuse they endured. Hamas wants these stories to be heard—not only to pressure the Israeli government but also because, in the eyes of its supporters, Israel’s suffering is its ultimate victory.