"Never Again" Is Not Enough
By Joshua
Hammerman
As we
reach Yom Hashoah 5772, we've now passed the 70th anniversary of the Wannsee
Conference, where the ‘Final Solution” was designed, and with it, we’ve
reached a crucial milestone in the history of our remembering the Shoah. In the Talmud, 70 years is considered a full
life-span, as in the story
of Honi, who planted a tree and then slept for 70 years to see that tree
bear fruit. We’ve now reached the point
where very few survivors remain to tell the story first-hand. The
events are now history and the question before us how to keep the anguish
immediate while a new layer of moss covers the bloodied, sacred ground. We have, for lack of a better term, a
Holocaust continuity problem.
We also
have, for lack of a better term, a Jewish
continuity problem (we discarded the term years ago without managing to solve the problem). Over the past few
decades, Jews in this country have been mobilized to the task of ensuring that
there will be Jews around in a few generations so that, among other
things, the Holocaust will be remembered.
In a real sense the two continuity problems are intertwined. The one should be aided by the resolution of
the other. That's how it appears in
theory, and that's also what I believe.
But
that's not what everyone believes. We
are now in the midst of a serious tug of war within the Jewish community, one
that has caused great anguish to survivors and their descendants, and one that
has serious implications for the future.
Simply put, there are many American Jews who think that our
preoccupation with Holocaust education has completely overshadowed other
elements of Judaism that we must convey to the next generation. As monuments for the Shoah spring up in many
American cities, as vast museums have opened over the past two decades in
Washington, Los Angeles and elsewhere, as Steven Spielberg has gathered
testimony of 50,000 survivors for his high-tech oral history project, as award
winning films and scholarly works about the Holocaust continue to dominate our
American Jewish agenda, and as enemies at home and abroad continue to deny that
the Holocaust ever happened, do we risk losing everything else in the
process? There is no doubt that
Holocaust education has been a smashing success when compared other aspects of
Jewish education; and that has led some to question our communal priorities.
In the
words of Ruth Wisse, a professor of Jewish literature, "If there were to
be museums for Jewish civilization, I would have no problem, but to have major
Jewish museums consecrated to the destruction of Jewry seems to me exceedingly
perverse. What does it communicate to
American Jews? What person of dignity,
what person of noble Jewish spirit, what person who believes in the eternity of
Israel, wants to be presented to his fellow Americans primarily, if not
exclusively, through the prism of the destruction of a third of his
people?"
Renowned
sociologist Jack Wertheimer adds, "The focus is on the destruction of
Jews. There's a lot more American Jewry
can learn from European Jewry prior to the Holocaust than from the destruction
of Jews. I don't know what of a positive
nature can be learned from all that.” And
Jewish leader Malcolm Hoenlein states, "We have to give young Jews
positive experiences, not just tsuris.
We have to share with them the excitement, the joy."
This is an issue that hits the most
sensitive of nerves, especially among survivors, who have dedicated their lives
to nothing less than the goal of keeping the memory alive, of not letting the
Shoah become a footnote of Jewish history.
For these are the statements of committed Jews, some of our brightest
scholars and greatest leaders. In a
world of limited funds the debate it is bound to rage, and it tends to divide
along generational lines, only increasing the pain of those who have suffered
the most, the ones who have made the greatest sacrifices, who have dedicated
their lives to bearing witness.
Jacob
Neusner, the renowned historian, explains that there are now two Judaisms for
the American Jew -- yes there are endless varieties, but basically two strains,
which are, on the surface, irreconcilable.
One the one hand, there is the Judaism of Sinai, and on the other, the
Judaism of Holocaust and Redemption. As
Neusner describes it, the Judaism of Sinai, with its Adam and Eve, Abraham,
Isaac and Jacob, slaves in Egypt, Moses on the mountain, sanctification in the
here and now and salvation at the end of time, flourishes alongside the Judaism
of Holocaust and Redemption, of Auschwitz and Israel. The Judaism of Sinai plumbs the depths of our
being human in God's image, and the other, as he puts it, reaches into that
sore surface of Jewish life. One speaks of
a universal redemption with the Jewish people being agents and catalysts, the
other speaks of the Jewish people being redeemed from the clutches of the outside world. One world view is based
on a God who hears us and saves us from Egyptian bondage, the other is based on a
silent God, who either chose not to help us or was incapable of doing so. It is hard to reconcile the two. But that is exactly what we must do.
Let's begin that process by saying clearly that any Judaism to emerge out of
this era of total destruction must place the Holocaust experience directly at
its core, or it will not be authentic; it will fail to speak to our need to
confront this black hole in our history. But just as it cannot ignore or deny the abyss, it must also speak to our religious need to affirm joy, beauty,
renewed life and at least the possibility of a responsive divinity, or it will
not survive.
We've
got to find a way to bring our children to the museum in Washington, and they
all must go there, and take them out of it and dance a hora on the National Mall - not defiantly, not out of spite, not to deny Hitler an posthumous triumph, but
because they love being a Jew, for all the positive reasons, as well as the
responsibility to bear witness. Let's
make the task even more difficult: Our
goal should be nothing less than for the next generation to see bearing witness
as not a burden, but a privilege; an honor, and yet another source of pride in who
they are.
That
will not be easy. But I believe it can
be done. I believe, now that we are 70 years beyond the initial shock, that the Holocaust
can motivate our children to a positive Jewish identity, not one based on
shame, on hatred, on revenge and on despair.
And the Holocaust can therefore be a prime positive factor in Jewish
continuity.
How can
one not burst with pride at the poetry composed by those living in the midst of
hell, at their dignity, at the small deeds of heroism, the scraps of food
shared, the secret Seders, the fact that people could actually accomplish the
most human things in the most inhuman conditions, like falling in love, and
even giving birth. What makes Anne Frank
so eternally appealing is her very ordinariness, her capacity to remain a child
in the most sinister of conditions. How
can this not be but a source of great pride?
That
very heroism is what motivates us to appreciate the gift of our lives, and that
reverence for life is at the foundation of the covenant of Sinai.
Two
years ago I had the honor of being on the March of the Living. The March has become one of the most successful instruments in instilling
Jewish identity in our youth, as thousands march through the streets of Poland,
through the gates of Auschwitz on Yom
Hashoah, and ultimately, on to Israel to celebrate Independence day in
Jerusalem. It is the literal reenacting
of the route from darkness to light, much as we do at our Seders, regarding the
original Exodus.
As
exciting as this is for the participants, and as successful as it is, we must
ask ourselves what is the message that these students bring home. We know what message we bring from the Seder,
for it is the basic message of the Judaism of Sinai: Love the stranger, for we were slaves in the
land of Egypt. It is a message of
outreach and love. Yes, there is
vengeance and hate in the Haggadah too, but that is not the primary thrust,
otherwise it wouldn't have lasted all these years.
And
what is the message that comes from March of the Living? "Am Yisrael chai!" Now that's very reassuring to us, and seems
to bode well for continuity to see teens so defiant, so assured, with heads
bowed and fists raised. But if the
message is survival for its own sake, it is not a survival that is well-rooted. Ultimately, that message won't be enough,
unless it is accompanied by the joyous refrain, "Shiru l'Adonai shir
hadash," "Sing unto the Lord a New Song."
And
that is why "Never again" is also not enough. And that is why I do not recommend March of
the Living without a complementary experience of that reflects the other
dimensions of Judaism, whether it be through Torah study or an extended
teen tour of Israel or other youth involvement.
The Holocaust can be a spark of Jewish identity and even Jewish pride,
but it is not enough to ensure another generation of Jews.
When I
see the hundreds of millions of dollars that have been raised for scores of
Holocaust memorials and research centers in America, it doesn't bother me at
all. The memory must remain fresh. The world needs to know; our children need to
know and take pride in their heritage, even as regarding Auschwitz.
But
there must be a matching grant. The same amount of money must be when poured
into Jewish education, synagogues and day schools, into making affiliation
affordable for every young family, and into programs that emphasize joy rather
than victimization. It should not and
cannot be one or the other; it must be one and the other.
And
while we painstakingly record and teach of our tragic past, we must put down
vigorously any effort to portray Jews as victims in the present. All the old stereotypes must be fought. If we spent an eighth of the resources that
we spend on combating anti-Semitism from the outside to fight self hatred from
within, the Jewish future would be bright indeed.
It is
not Auschwitz that keeps Jews from wanting to remain Jewish, it's the fact that
young Jews think of other Jews as shallow and materialistic. When they run away from their heritage, it's
not the Holocaust they're running from, it's the image of Jews that our society
presents. It's not just that we haven't
givien them enough of the joy and the enrichment of Torah, it's that we've
given them too much of our own neuroses, our guilt, our anger, our own
shallowness. It is not the Nazis who
threaten Jewish continuity; the enemy is us.
We've got to get out of our collective mood of self-deprecation, and
that has less to do with Auschwitz than with our previously uncertain status on
the fringes of American society.
Auschwitz
will reside at the core of the next generation's Judaism, but we must
understand this -- the Holocaust will be reinterpreted. The facts will remain the same, they must,
but the lessons will change. Just as the
exodus from Egypt must be reinterpreted "b'chol dor va dor"
(in every generation) so will the Shoah.
It is hard to imagine discussing these events with fewer tears, but they
will. It is hard to imagine the
bitterness dissipating, but it will. It
is hard to imagine anyone coming to reaffirm the joy of Judaism through these
darkened binoculars, but they will.
At some
point, in a generation or two, the Judaism of Sinai and the Judaism of
Auschwitz will merge, and the result will be a new Judaism that we cannot yet
imagine. Our perceptions of God will
likely be transformed in the process. As
will Passover, Yom Kippur and Kashrut; as will Jewish peoplehood and Tzedakkah,
as will Israel and our notion of social action.
It is
up to us to give our children all the tools that they will need to do the job,
not to worry that they will blow it, even if they can't possibly feel our pain,
the way we feel it. And when the tears
cease to fall, we can't shock them artificially; we can only allow the
magnificent monuments, museums and collected survivor testimony speak for
themselves. We've got to let them work
it out with God for themselves.
Just as
the Torah instructs us to "proclaim liberty throughout the land"
during the year of jubilee, as we pass that 70 year milestone separating us
from the Shoah, it is now time to proclaim joy, proclaim life, and lay claim to
the future. If you are a Jew, it is O.K.
to smile again, it is O.K. to celebrate life; but it is not O.K. to forget. We must enable our descendants to do what
Elie Wiesel says he has spent his entire adult life trying to do: turn
"No" into "Yes."
Abraham
Joshua Heschel said, "There are three ways in which we respond to
sorrow. On the first level we cry; on
the second level, we are silent; on the highest level, we take sorrow and turn
it into song."
Jewish peoplehood
will not be assured until our great grandchildren begin to take the darkness of
the Shoah, and turn it into a song. That
would be the most fitting memorial to our martyrs and a guarantee that their
precious memory will be preserved.
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