A Poison Tree by William Blake

A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.


I found this poem while reading through an anthology last year, and immediately knew it was one I was going to have to record at some point. Above, I have only the first stanza, but the whole poem is in the linked recording.

And this is really a beautiful, succinct explanation of the cause of a lot of this friction, not just with Jews but with political correctness in general. In real life, two individuals who have any contact are going to have some degree of conflict and disagreement. And if we get that out in the open and deal with it forthrightly, it is often fairly easy to resolve.

But if, for whatever reason, we are not allowed to speak of these problems openly, they go on getting worse. And the anger and resentment builds up. Problems which could have been resolved easily get compounded. People who can't get an open explanation try to come up with their own, which may end up creating a narrative much more malevolent than the reality.

I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

If you want to make create lasting resentment, it's not difficult. Just don't let people talk about what's bothering them.