There are few things that have dominated American Jewish life more than the Holocaust. Over the decades, we’ve been telling the world over and over again that it must “never forget” this singular Jewish nightmare so that it “never again” happens.
Hundreds of millions have been poured into memorials and cultural projects, from Spielberg’s Shoah Foundation to countless films, books, exhibits, educational initiatives, you name it.
At the Journal, we never stop receiving submissions connected to the Shoah. There are always new stories and new angles. This week, we weigh in on the outrage of using Holocaust analogies for political or other nefarious ends.
In academia, the Holocaust continues to be a cottage industry attracting scholars from all fields.
One way or another, the Holocaust is the story that never quits.
From a Jewish standpoint, this focus makes sense: If we want people to “never forget” something, shouldn’t we focus on that thing?
Yes we should and yes we do.
There is a problem, however, that few people want to talk about: Focusing on Jews who died makes us look weak at a time when we must look especially strong.
The most important and least-discussed aspect of the Holocaust is how strong we came out of it.
It’s the way we built our dreams after the nightmare to end all nightmares.
It’s the way we refused to wallow in victimhood even though we had every reason to.
It’s the way we were battered and traumatized after losing six million and still rose to write one of our greatest chapters.
It’s the way we came to America and created a golden age of American Jewry, even as Holocaust memorials were proliferating.
It’s the way we went back to our biblical homeland and created the nation state of Israel, a world leader in all areas of innovation.
In short, it’s the way we stood up and decided we would no longer be sitting ducks.
Antisemitism may be on the rise, but Jews are no longer the Jews of Kristallnacht.Today we have the power to fight back.Some Jews even fight back by laughing.
Just ask Todd Diamond, who writes in his new book, “Pass the Trauma, Please,” about how his father finally opened up about his Holocaust survival story — over Chinese food.
Todd’s father, whom he describes as a cross between Mel Brooks and Larry David, told him: “Son, if you’re going to write my story, go easy on the horrors. Remember, you’re no Elie Wiesel. You’re an ad guy. So do what you always do to make people buy things, put in some jokes.”
Put in some jokes. What a way to fight. Live with laughter. Go easy on the horrors.
These horrors only show one thing—weak Jews.
I am not that weak Jew.
I am a proud Jew from Morocco who is blessed to be part of a highly successful Jewish-American community.
This is not triumphalism—it’s the truth. Jews are winners; that is partly why we are so hated.
I don’t want pro-Hamas Jew-haters to see images from Auschwitz and think that it’s me. It’s not me. The Jews of Auschwitz are my beloved ancestors who were not blessed the way I am.
When I stand up as a proud Jew, as a lover of life, as a lover of America, I am honoring my ancestors who perished because they had no choice.
We have a choice.
We can choose to remember them by remembering to thrive on their behalf.
Call me crazy, but what I want the world to know most about the Holocaust is that it’s in our past and they should never forget how strong we came out of that darkest moment.
That is also what I want Jewish kids to know—not how we died but how we thrived after we died.
I’m not naïve enough to think that the Holocaust industry is going anywhere. It will continue to make the noise it makes. The films, the books, the memorials, the education, will never stop, and it shouldn’t.
But maybe it’s time we close the loop — to remind everyone that it’s what we did after the Holocaust that matters most, that serves as the best model for a world in dire need of resilience.
We are no longer the sitting ducks of Auschwitz. Today we stand, we live, we fight and we laugh.
