It Didn’t Start with Auschwitz

The Holocaust did not start with the trains to Auschwitz. There were those seemingly uneventful actions: Jews made to feel uncomfortable at work, at schools, Jewish books banned and Jewish bookshops closed, Jews not yet banned but silenced. Like Israeli athletes and artists “canceled” and Jewish speakers “uninvited” today.

Later, their exclusion and silence were not enough. It was their existence that became unbearable. They were made to disappear before the final disappearance. No violence at the beginning, just shunning. Germany’s Jews, and those in other European countries, of the highest culture and sophistication in the world, did not worry too much because they knew the situation would change for the better, that the nonsense would surely end and reason would prevail.

The people? The general public? Those good people would go to the theater, sip coffee at the cafes and clap at the concert halls. They were either supportive of the repressive regime or silent. It was the intelligentsia, the intellectuals, the refined people who approved of this discordant concert of hatred.

As early as the mid-1800s, Karl Lueger was elected mayor of Vienna by exposing corruption. He actively promoted antisemitism with claims of Jewish influence in academia and the press. Hitler moved to Vienna in 1908 and was deeply impressed and inspired by Lueger’s charisma and power. Lueger was the Mamdani of his era.

The philosopher Emil Fackenheim, survivor of the Holocaust, said that there are three stages of antisemitism: You cannot live among us as Jews; You cannot live among us; You cannot live. It’s the gradual, insidious, filthy slime of hostility that slowly overtakes nations in their moral amnesia and blames “those Jews.”

The philosopher Emil Fackenheim, survivor of the Holocaust, said that there are three stages of antisemitism: You cannot live among us as Jews; You cannot live among us; You cannot live. It’s the gradual, insidious, filthy slime of hostility that slowly overtakes nations in their moral amnesia and blames “those Jews.”

There was no Israel then. Jews were powerless. And nations like America had their own antisemites who shut down any possibility of assistance. Europe, steeped in antisemitism for many centuries, was no longer home for the Jews. They were trapped.

Jews today do have a voice. For the moment. But we have not used it where it counts – in the mainstream media, the halls of power, on campuses, on school boards, in the public square. But the people of ill will, schooled in deception and flooding social media, have not hesitated to promote their virulent loathing.

There is an unconscious hesitation among Jews of the diaspora. Two millennia of conditioning, of being made to feel like guests in our own home, has resulted in a meekness and a feeling of helplessness that is at the base of our hesitation and inertia.

The great Yiddish writer I. L. Peretz expressed his dismay, perhaps even contempt, for Jewish passivity in his short story “Bontsha the Silent.” In that story, Bontsha suffers terribly during his whole life and never complains. No injustice results in a reaction. Once in heaven at the time of judgement, his silent suffering is, at first, praised and celebrated. He is compared to Job and Bontsha remains silent and humble. However, during the course of heavenly judgement, the judge makes this shocking admonition: “You never understood that you need not have been silent, that you could have cried out and that your outcries would have brought down the world itself and ended it. You never understood your silent strength.”

In the final analysis, Peretz’s powerful message was that humility and meekness are not admirable when wrongs need to be righted. Plato said it many centuries ago: “The price that good men pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men.”

Jews today can no longer afford the luxury of indifference, ignorance, despair or meekness. Ancient and modern wisdom should light our path. Every decent person, Jewish, Christian and Muslim, must stand together dedicated to end the madness. Jews being treated as the world’s punching bag must end or the world will suffer yet another unnecessary period of brutality and hostility from which no one gains. Professor Ruth Wisse, formerly of McGill and Harvard, now with Tikva, calls for “shraying givalt,” roughly translated as “shouting protest to the high heavens.”

Jews today can no longer afford the luxury of indifference, ignorance, despair or meekness. Ancient and modern wisdom should light our path. Every decent person, Jewish, Christian and Muslim, must stand together dedicated to end the madness.

There is a sense of futility in the Jewish community because we all say “something must be done” but solutions are in short supply. As a result, I would like to suggest a final, practical and specific thought: Since the re-establishment of the Jewish state in 1948, and even before, Jews in the diaspora have given generously to Israel in funding, lobbying in the halls of government and personal sacrifice. Now, it is Jews in the diaspora who are in dire straits. Israel still needs to focus on its own precarious situation, but it has gained enormous experience in fending off an extraordinary range of threats. Perhaps it is time to coordinate efforts to see how Israeli intelligence and expertise can be applied to the diaspora for the mutual benefit of all.

Kol Yisrael avrevim zeh bazeh (All Israel is responsible for one another).

Dr. Paul Socken is Distinguished Professor Emeritus and founder of the Jewish Studies program at the University of Waterloo

In Memory of Bernie Papernick