Tag Archives: Anti-Semitism

Remembering Resistance and Beyond

On this Holocaust Remembrance Day, I think of the hundreds of people of all ages whose photos I saw in the temporary National Holocaust Museum in Amsterdam (under development now). Here is a group of them celebrating Passover in hiding in Zwolle, which in itself was a form of resistance.

Passover in hiding

Some Dutch Jewish people lived through the war, but most – statistically 80% in Amsterdam, or 75% in the Netherlands as a whole — were mass murdered.

Only when I was in my fifties did I realize that many of them were rounded up in July 1942, the month when my parents were married in the small farming town of Sussex, New Brunswick on a sunny afternoon. The month that was so happy for my parents was among the worst for Jewish Amsterdam. The deportations were at their height. The trams were commandeered on six July nights between midnight and 2:00 or 3:00 a.m., operated by the regular crew (who were excused from curfew on these nights only).

Photographer: Charles Bönnekamp, Member of the Resistance.

Their job was to deliver Jewish people to Centraal Station so they could be transported to the Westerbork Transit Camp, and on to what many still believed were “work camps” from there. On only three nights, 962 people were sent to Westerbork – fewer than the Germans had demanded because the Jewish Council struck some lucky names off the list, and others failed to report. On July 31, SS-ObergruppenführerHanns Rauter reported with satisfaction that the transports had all gone “smoothly” and that no future difficulties were foreseen.

According to Jacob Presser in Ashes in the Wind, daytime was also dangerous, especially that fall of 1942: It “was best for getting hold of the most defenseless – sick people, invalids and children, and quite particularly children in orphanages. Old men and old women would henceforth be seen roaming the streets, afraid to stay at home. They strayed about, sitting on steps (park-benches were forbidden to them), trying to find out what was going on, and asking odd passers-by if everything was quiet their way. Then they would shuffle on, sooner or later to fall into the hands of their persecutors.”

Just as my parents’ happiness coincided with this immeasurable loss, today many of us continue our relatively comfortable lives while so many are in agonizing peril. The contrasts are dizzying. This photo was taken at the Ukrainian Embassy in Washington in March, where I went to lay flowers. Just a gesture, along with donations of course, yet it still felt important.

Ukraine is the crisis most in the headlines, but we still have tens of thousands of asylum seekers in limbo in Mexico, with almost 10,000 documented cases of rape, torture and other abuse there since January 2021 alone. Millions in Africa are on the verge of starvation, many of them children. How do we live with these incongruities?

One part of our duty to the ghosts of the Holocaust is surely resistance to what we know is wrong – whether that is human rights violations, environmental degradation, or the erosion of democratic rights. In their honor, however, we must also celebrate life. I remember how shocked I was when a photo of a Jewish couple marrying in Amsterdam under the Nazi occupation, wearing the hated stars but otherwise decked out for their wedding day. Even under the Nazis, the couple found beauty and connection, and continued to celebrate it.

Jewish wedding in Amsterdam in 1942

Many Jewish people and others kept on being generous even under the Nazis and tried to help people, both by resisting and otherwise. Dare we do less? In addition to remembering those who died in the Holocaust, Remembrance Day is a time to interrogate ourselves now.

Another part of the duty of remembrance beyond resistance is to build a world where we do not replicate the conditions which led to the Holocaust. If there were ever a time to instill in children the value of every single human life, it is now, with the right wing in the ascendant worldwide and human rights abuses commoner than ever. In addition, while today’s youth will have new resources at their command, unless they learn to love the earth enough to curb human greed, they and the planet are lost.

The time honored creations of humanity – our books, paintings, building tools – must be put into their hands. They need to know what we humans, including them, are capable of, in both the best and worst sense.

When we speak about the Holocaust, let’s not stop with the death camps. Let’s talk about what the people who were rounded up and murdered loved in life, what they created. The beautiful meals (shabbat or otherwise), the weddings and births. When we talk about Jewish Amsterdam, let’s speak of the synagogues they constructed, both the grand and the modest. Let’s remember the diamonds they cut and the union they organized, their creations in every aspect of the city’s life, the pots and pans they sold, the people they healed as doctors and nurses. Let’s talk about the humor of the patent medicine salesmen, the cabaret with its catchy tunes and mordant satire even at Westerbork, the elegant hotels they built.

Amstel Hotel, Amsterdam

Their deaths sit in our hearts, immutable, ever murmuring and reminding us of their and our sorrow. May those murmurs move us to act for peace and freedom in our own beleaguered time.

And may we remember not just their gruesome deaths, but their human lives and achievements.

Dutch Railway Offers Reparations for Deportation

Westerbork train track with flowers laid along it on Remembrance Day

Only 77 years (almost to the day) after the first Dutch train hauled people to the extermination and concentration camps, the Dutch Railway has agreed to pay reparations to 500 remaining Jewish, Roma and Sinti survivors and their widows/ers or children. The railway will also seek ways to honor those who didn’t come back and left no one. The Dutch Railway (NS) allowed the Nazis to buy their services unless it compromised their principles (whatever that would have meant), and the unions followed suit. They made about 2.5 million euros in today’s currency.

Reparations are not offered now because of a sudden change of heart – after all, Dutch Railway apologized in 2005, sixty years after the end of the war. Rather, it is thanks to the intervention of Mr Salo Muller, a Holocaust survivor and physical therapist to the Ajax soccer team, who pushed for monetary compensation comparable to that of the French Railway. Rather than pursue legal action, the Dutch Railway established a committee under the leadership of former Amsterdam Mayor Job Cohen, himself a Jewish hidden child.

Mayor Job Cohen on bike

Their recommendation has just emerged, and they will be responsible for overseeing the disbursements. “It is not possible to name a reasonable and fitting amount of money that can compensate even a bit of the suffering of those involved,” Cohen said in a statement. Each survivor who was transported will receive 15,000 euros ($17,000) each. Widows and widowers of victims are eligible to receive 7,500 euros ($8,500) and, if they are no longer alive, the surviving children of victims will receive 5,000 euros ($5,685).

What do we know about the role of the trains in the deportation? Between midnight and three a.m., the Dutch Railway ran a special series of trains beginning in July 1942 from Amsterdam’s Centraal Station to a station near the Westerbork Transit Camp. There was special provision for the train employees to be exempt from the curfew. It’s important to remember that initially almost everyone believed that they were headed for labor camps, not their deaths.

Centraal Station Amsterdam

The next train, however, was more sinister: the classic cattle car strewn with filthy straw and occasionally a passenger carriage. Once a week, on Tuesday, the train pulled out of the station (first nearby Hooghalen, then Westerbork itself once a spur had been added) with its load of victims, the number chalked on the side. The process for deciding who would stay and go is barbaric, but not the responsibility of NS. In the first six months (July 1942-January 1943), an astute medical orderly noticed that the car was always the same, and he created an inconspicuous hiding place where messages could be transmitted. Moreover, he kept copies as well as transmitting the originals, and thanks to him we have an account of the conditions on the train. One person wrote “When the door was shut, the smell was unbearable and the air oppressive; when the door was left open, there was a horrible draught. . . [overnight] two had died of cold and misery. They were taken to the luggage section.”

Last Train from Westerbork

The resistance fighter J.H. Scheps asked what the train employees felt when they heard the pleas and cries of their passengers: “Don’t you understand what they are doing to these helpless Jews? Don’t you know how they torture our Jewish comrades? Have you bread and butter patriots never heard the voice of Rachel, she who mourns and will not be comforted for her children – the children you help to carry to their death?” If only one could look back and find resistance to the deportations among the train management or workers.

From July 1942 until September 1944, ninety-eight trains rolled out on time. Of the passengers, not a single one survived on 26 transports, and many others had one person alone. Depending on which numbers you believe, the trains took away between 104,000 and 110,000 people from the Netherlands, and only 5,450 returned.

Westerbork monument representing lives lost

When, after the war, the Enquiry Commission confronted the Dutch Railway Board with its choices, the response was that the question of deportation had been raised, but no one had ever urged them to refuse cooperation. Who could have done that? The Board itself, the workers, the union leadership? I hope that a person who reads this knows of that rare someone who did speak up, and will tell us about it. And I hope someone else who is in a position to stop something they know is wrong will take this story as a warning.

The Echoes of Kristallnacht

Synagogue in flames

Kristallnacht is significant because it was a moment of warning about what was to come. What appeared to be individual violence carried out by thugs was specifically sanctioned and incited by the state. What happened that night of November 9-10, 1938? As always, there was an excuse.

Thousands of Polish Jews had been expelled from Germany, and an enraged Jewish teenager shot a German diplomat as a result. The diplomat died about the same time as a big Nazi celebration, and Goebbels used the occasion to call for a rampage – but not officially. “The Führer has decided that … demonstrations should not be prepared or organized by the Party, but insofar as they erupt spontaneously, they are not to be hampered.” This was both a call and a license to vandalize Jewish homes, businesses, and synagogues. The word was passed down from party officials and the Security Police to their local outlets. Although the Nazis later tried to maintain the fiction that these events happened locally, it’s clear that they were orchestrated from Berlin.

The numbers tell one part of the story of the night of November 9-10: 91 people dead, 267 synagogues desecrated or destroyed, some of them burning through the night in full view of fire departments which were ordered to watch unless nearby buildings were threatened. More than 7500 Jewish businesses were destroyed and looted. But that’s only part of the story.

Kristallnacht was the moment when the German state first arrested people only because they were Jewish. They took 30,000 Jewish men, mostly young and vigorous per the orders from above, shipped them off to work and concentration camps. (The men below were marched through the streets and forced to watch as a synagogue burned.) Some died of the camp conditions, but many were released when they agreed to immigrate.

Men arrested during Kristallnacht

That’s where Kristallnacht and my own life’s work intersect. Kristallnacht sounded a warning that German Jews could not ignore. The Netherlands had been neutral in World War I, and there was a longstanding, well integrated Jewish community there. After Kristallnacht, it’s not surprising that more than 40,000 German Jews applied for a visa to enter the Netherlands, but only 7,000 got one, and even they were put in camps. In desperation, 2,000 more refugees snuck in, and at least the Dutch didn’t send them back, although they did incarcerate them. Is this an echo of the situation of refugees who try to enter the U.S. today? We’ll come back to that point.

Unfortunately, most of the German Jews who made it into the Netherlands were rounded up and murdered. Volumes have been written about how and why the Holocaust could have happened in as open and tolerant a society as the Netherlands. One factor was surely the superior systems the Dutch developed to identify who lived where, in an orderly population register which made it easy to check whether an identity card was genuine or not. It also greatly facilitated roundups by showing where the Jewish people were living. The Holocaust was also facilitated by the fact that the Dutch were and are traditionally a law-abiding people who basically trusted their government. There was no tradition of resistance there, as there was in countries like Belgium, France and Italy. Many other factors have been explored in response to the question, “How could the Holocaust happen in the Netherlands – and to such a devastating degree?”

Whatever scholars may differ about, the collusion of ordinary people was an absolutely key factor. Many minded their own business and tried to keep life going on as normally as they could, activities which would have been benign in a different time, but in this time made them colluders with the Nazis.

women in front of store with smashed windows Kristallnacht

Looking at the situation instead from the Dutch Jewish point of view, it seems strange that most of them simply did not believe that they would lose their homes, their businesses and professions, their freedom of movement and ultimately their lives. We cannot underestimate how safe they felt. Let’s hear from Dr. Jacob Presser on this point. Dr. Presser was a Jewish historian who himself survived the war by hiding, and he spent 12 years researching and writing the classic volume Ashes in the Wind: The Destruction of Dutch Jewry. Here’s how he depicts the mood of his Jewish countrymen at the beginning of 1942:

“Many pinned their hopes on the likelihood of Germany eventually losing the war, and consoled themselves with the knowledge that, however bad their position, it could have been much worse. Moreover, few Jews believed that the Germans would carry their policy to the limit. True, there had been raids and hundreds had died, but, thank God, most Dutch Jews had been allowed to remain in their old homes. True also, the Germans had sounded the ugly word of ’emigration,’ but had they not prefixed the comforting adjective ‘voluntary’ – and was the measure not directed at foreign rather than Dutch Jews?” That gives us a sense of why only about one Jewish person in seven hid.

woman emerging from underground hiding place

We’ve all heard of the Dutch resistance and revered it. Having studied it for 13 years as I researched and wrote An Address in Amsterdam, I honor what those people did, in fear of their lives – especially those who had the double jeopardy of being Jewish. That’s why I chose to write about a young Jewish woman who joins the resistance. But as much as we honor those resisters, we can never forget how few they were. Yes, historians say 24-25,000, and I think we can double that safely if we include people who only helped occasionally. But even so, we aren’t up to ONE PERCENT in a country of 8.7 million.

No one can review this history without a sense of apprehension. Yet there are so many differences between our situation now, and that in Germany or the Netherlands under the Nazis.

We live in a constitutional democracy
Our press is still speaking up to some extent
Violence against persecuted groups is still sporadic and occasional, and
We do have elections so we can correct the course.

And yet – who among us has not wondered

Are we sliding down the slope from civilization to barbarism? Because it is a slope, not a single moment of choice.
Is the American Jewish community not, like those in Germany and the Netherlands, deeply integrated into society at large? Yet the fact of assimilation did not protect them.

Kristallnacht broken windows

If we look back to the times that began with Kristallnacht for inspiration as well as horror, what can we find to guide us now? Kristallnacht was a time when many people woke up and realized that the Nazis were in earnest, that their hatred had turned to broken bones and windows, desecrated synagogues and 30,000 Jewish prisoners. Some of those people who woke up resisted, by fleeing or becoming active against the Nazis or both.

Can we make this anniversary of Kristallnacht our own moment of awakening?

When we hear code words for white nationalism and supremacy become acceptable in public discourse, can we speak up against them?

When we hear of hate crimes – whether they are in Charlottesville or Sacramento or Omaha – whether they are against peaceful protestors or African American men or someone who looked Muslim — can we respond with empathy and unity, as we did for Pittsburgh.

low candles lit

Can we say that whatever acts of hatred the U.S. government itself is committing must be stopped – and by us? To take a single example, think of children who are refugees and immigrants like my impoverished ancestors and perhaps yours. They are being stolen from their parents, just as they were at the gates of other camps. Can we claim those children, imprisoned in “tent cities,” that barbarous euphemism? Can we fight for them as strenuously as we would for our own children? Are they ours? If our tax dollars are paying for them to be kidnapped and imprisoned, are they not ours?

Let’s change gears and focus for a moment on the people who stayed home for Kristallnacht. They may have been quieter anti-Semites, or they may have been friendly to the Jewish people and disgusted by the violence in the streets. But they didn’t stop it. This is the story in the Netherlands, as well.

I wish I could offer you more words of comfort today. But all I can bring you is what your people have always done – to continue your hard work in the service of other persecuted people and yourselves. Work that everyone is morally and ethically required to do, whether or not we ever see the results. We are in a time when that spirit is more needed than ever.

Let’s not allow the 80^th anniversary of Kristallnacht and the murders in Pittsburgh to terrify and dishearten us. May they instead awaken us to be even more active on behalf of justice, and what used to be called “the human family.” As I need not remind you, “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.”

Untitled, by Barbara Chen

This talk was part of the Shabbat service at the Israel Congregation of Manchester, Vermont, on Friday, November 9, 2018. Many thanks to them for inviting me.

The Merchant of Venice: A Play about Anti-Semitism

When I was in college, I learned that The Merchant of Venice was the anti-Semitic play where the avaricious Jew Shylock demands his pound of flesh from the worthy Christian merchant. Fortunately, the new production at Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum offered a chillingly contemporary interpretation instead. It’s probably much closer to Shakespeare’s intention.

Before the play even begins, a gaggle of youths are already harassing Shylock. From then on, every time any Christian says the word “Jew,” he spits, emphasizing the basic hatred to which Jewish people are subjected. Shylock, played by the brilliant and nuanced actor Alan Blumenfeld, is so much more than than the usual villain. We see how much he is exactly what the Christians have made of him – a man who is earning his living the only way they permit, who must scramble for everything because he is allowed to have so little, who will of course take advantage of the incredibly few chances he gets to have even a moment of dignity, much less revenge. When the idiotically optimistic merchant Antonio seeks to borrow money against his fortunes at sea, why should Shylock not demand a pound of flesh from near his heart if he is not paid on time? Why should he not “have [his] bond” when Antonio does not pay him?

Even the characters I remembered as having some shred of nobility are hypocrites. Even Portia’s speech beginning “The quality of mercy is not strained” is rendered absurd by the context: she is impersonating a legal expert who doesn’t actually exist – and the whole play, especially as rendered in this production, shows the “Christians” behaving in the most unmerciful possible way. Forcing Shylock to appear to adopt their religion is the final blow – and completely contrary to what Jesus professed.

The play is unsettling not only because the “good” characters show their evil sides so baldly, but also because it portrays the impact of hatred on both the hated and the haters. Anti-Semitism parades across the stage in both its subtler and its more savage forms. Thankfully, the actors held a “talk back” after the play, and dozens of people stayed for the conversation about how troubled we were, and why. Mr. Blumenfeld stressed that the play is not anti-Semitic, but about anti-Semitism. Artistic Director Ellen Geer and the company wanted to perform it at this time because we are again in a time when anti-Semitism and other forms of hatred and hate crimes are on the rise.

Theatricum Botanicum

The Theatricum Botanicum has a history of taking on unpopular causes. In fact, it was founded by Will Geer (known to people my age as Grandpa Walton) when he was blacklisted in Hollywood in the McCarthy era. Other actors banned from working in the industry gathered, and slowly today’s splendid open theater was built. It’s a magical place in the woods, but only half an hour up a twisting road from Santa Monica. The sets integrate the trees around them, with several balconies that serve many purposes adding dimension to the large stage. Amphitheater seating means that everyone feels close to the actors. Throughout the year, students come to be introduced to Shakespeare and theater arts, and in the summer they can be involved in productions and classes which anyone would enjoy. Adults even have their own chance to learn in more depth.

If I lived in southern California, I’d go right back and see this revealing production again.