At the end of the Peloponnesian War, a savage new group of leaders took Athens by storm.

In the eight months, they managed to hang on to power.

The 30 tyrants, as they came to be called, stole untold amounts

of civilian property, eliminated political adversaries, and killed 5% of the population.

When Athenians finally seized back control, the tyrants, of course, had to be dealt with,

either exiled or prosecuted. But what about all the subordinates, the foot soldiers and guards and record keepers?

Did it really make sense to hold them accountable to the same degree as the mastermind?

From KERA in Dallas, this is Think. I'm Chris Boyd.

Athenians who survived the 30 tyrants decided instead on oblivion for those who did unforgivable things fighting for the bad

guys but weren't ever really in charge. The deal was they could return to polite society and

everybody agreed to pretend the era of the tyrants had never happened. It might sound like they just

got off without punishment. But in fact, the decision was less about those low-level

lackeys than about allowing the rest of Athens to focus on the future rather than endlessly

litigating the past. My guest thinks it's an idea that could work for our fractured country

in the 21st century. Linda Kinsler is junior fellow at the Harvard Society of Fellows and

author of Come to This Court and Cry, How the Holocaust Ends.

Her essay, January 6th, America's Rupter and the Strange Forgotten Power of Oblivion appeared in the New York Times.

Linda, welcome to think.

Hi, thank you so much for having me on.

So the term of art here is oblivion, and I'm not sure everybody is familiar with the particular

usage that we'll be talking about in this conversation. What do we need to understand about

what it means?

...