Remembering the Holocaust

On Tuesday, the State of Israel observed Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day. 

Following the Holocaust, and the destruction of much of European Jewry, Israel’s founders debated which day to observe and commemorate our greatest tragedy. In 1951 the Knesset took up the argument. Some urged the day should be the tenth of Tevet, a traditional fast day marking the Babylonian siege of Jerusalem in the sixth century BCE. (The Chief Rabbinate favored this day.)

Others suggested the eighth of Av, the day the Nazis began the liquidation of the Warsaw Ghetto. (The Nazis often chose dates that held Jewish significance.) Given this date’s proximity to the ninth of Av, the fast day commemorating the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple by the Romans in 70 CE, it was rejected. Some argued for the first of September, the day Nazi Germany invaded Poland and World War II began.

Others favored the fourteenth of Nisan, the day the Warsaw Ghetto’s small band of Jews began their revolt against the Nazis. These fighters kept the Nazi army at bay for nearly one month. (Poland’s army lasted slightly longer.) This date seemed impractical given that Passover begins that evening and so the Knesset resolved that the date should be the twenty seventh of Nisan, five days after the conclusion of the Passover holiday. They wished to maintain the connection between our armed revolt against the Nazis and our remembrance of the murdered six million Jews.

In the first year that Yom HaShoah was observed, a statue of Mordecai Anielewicz, the leader of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, was unveiled. Israel’s early leaders wished to proclaim the importance of a Jewish army. Like the Warsaw Ghetto fighters, we can defend ourselves against our enemies. Now we have the IDF! In fact, the official name for the day is Yom HaZikaron laShoah ve-laG’vurah, Holocaust and Heroism Remembrance Day.

There were, however, other examples of heroism. Most did not in fact involve weapons. In the camps, people shared morsels of food with others even though such an act might lead to their own demise. Some secretly observed Jewish holidays and offered prayers. Think about this. Even keeping track of the calendar and knowing when Passover began was an act of defiance. There were countless examples of spiritual heroism. Many remain lost to history. Others we still recall.

Many know the words of Anne Frank, who penned words of hopefulness while hiding in an Amsterdam attic. The despair that surrounded her did not color her outlook. Likewise, Etty Hillesum recorded her most intimate thoughts in a diary that was published in 1981. In An Interrupted Life, she speaks about love (and making love) while living in the Netherlands during the war.

Etty served on the Jewish Council of Westerbrok. The Nazis established these councils to force Jewish leaders to decide who was transported from ghettos to concentration camps. On September 7, 1943, Etty and her family were sent to Auschwitz. I have always wondered if she placed her own name on that fateful list. Was this journey her act of bravery?

Etty Hillesum died in the Auschwitz concentration camp a few months later. I return to her writings.

She proclaims: “And even if we stay alive, we shall carry the wounds with us throughout our lives. And yet I don’t think that life is meaningless. And God is not accountable to us for the senseless harm we cause one another.”

I find hope in her words. I find heroism in her prophetic call.

The wounds remain. The senseless harm persists.