We’re Repeating It. And We Don’t Even See It.

 

Different eras. Same cruelty. History doesn’t repeat itself—we repeat it.

It haunts me sometimes, how easily people are swayed.

How quick we are to believe the worst about someone—especially if it benefits the people in power.

How history keeps repeating itself while we pat ourselves on the back, pretending we’ve evolved.

The people who helped Hitler didn’t think they were the villains.

They didn’t see themselves as monsters or murderers.

They thought they were doing the right thing. They thought they were protecting their country.

They listened to the lies long enough that they started sounding like truth.

And then they got used to it.

Used to the sound of people screaming.

Used to the silence of neighbors disappearing.

Used to the sight of starving children behind fences.

And they still went home every night to warm beds and full plates.

Still tucked in their children, still laughed, still made love, still went to work.

As if nothing was happening just a few feet away.

It’s horrifying, but it’s not rare.

This is what we do.

We take orders.

We pick sides.

We follow the crowd.

We silence our discomfort with logic someone else handed us.

And the most dangerous part?

We always believe we’re the good guys.

We’ve seen it again and again.

The Salem witch trials—people burning women alive because they were told their neighbors were possessed. That fear was packaged and sold to the public. Mass hysteria took root, and suddenly teenage girls could point a finger and send someone to the gallows.

And they thought they were doing it for God.

Then there was slavery in America. Entire generations were raised believing that owning other human beings was not only acceptable—but ordained. Justified by economy. Justified by religion. Justified by false science.

White people literally built their lives and wealth on the backs of enslaved Black men, women, and children—and still went to church on Sundays believing they were good, moral people.

They even convinced themselves they were doing the enslaved a favor.

That’s how deep the delusion went.

The Japanese internment camps during WWII.

Thousands of innocent American citizens were ripped from their homes, herded like cattle into camps, and held like criminals. Why? Because they “might” be a threat.

Their only crime was looking like the enemy.

And once again, Americans justified it.

For “safety.” For “national security.”

The same words we hear today.

McCarthyism in the 1950s—where being accused of communist ties could destroy your entire life.

Careers ended. Reputations ruined. People blacklisted and bullied and driven to suicide.

Why? Because fear was louder than truth.

Civil rights marches in the 60s were met with police dogs, fire hoses, and bullets.

Black people weren’t even asking for special treatment—they just wanted equal rights.

To eat at the same counters. Drink from the same fountains.

But they were painted as threats to the American way of life.

And too many people believed it.

And now, today, we see it happening again.

We’ve got children in cages.

We’ve got people cheering for book bans and witch hunts under the label of “protecting children.”

We’ve got politicians telling us who to blame—immigrants, the poor, the disabled, the queer community, women who want autonomy.

And it works, because they’ve done it before.

Because we’ve fallen for it before. Over and over again. 

It’s the same trick every time.

The elites say—Make people think our enemies are their enemies.

Make people believe that if they want to be safe, someone else has to suffer.

Turn compassion into weakness.

Make cruelty look like strength.

And once you’ve convinced the masses, just sit back.

They’ll do the work for you.

We are the Roman crowds cheering in the arena.

We are the villagers pointing at the “witch.”

We are the citizens who said nothing as the trains rolled by.

And if that makes you uncomfortable—good.

It should.

Because if we want to stop this from happening again, we have to be willing to see the pattern.

We have to be willing to be the person who stops clapping.

Who refuses to point fingers.

Who asks the hard questions, even when it makes us a target.

History doesn’t just repeat itself.

We repeat it.

Until we choose not to.

“They always say if we forget history, we’re doomed to repeat it. But I think the real danger is when we don’t even realize we’re already repeating it. That’s how it happens—quietly, gradually, with good intentions and blind eyes.”

-Tina Arnold, 2025