"Arbeit Macht Frei." The words, formed in wrought iron, graced the gated entrance. Translated into English, they state: "Work makes you free." Such tragically ironic words were often among the first to greet the Jewish exiting the train cars, newly arrived at the Nazi concentration camps. Shielding their eyes from the bright light of the daytime sun or the nighttime spotlight, the huddled masses welcomed the fresh air, yearning to exit their stifling, soiled, and dark cattle cars.
Those arriving at the death camps of Auschwitz, Treblinka, Chelmno, Majdanek, et al. would meet their fate within days, often within hours. The Nazi machine moved with efficiency; at Birkenau, 8,000 people were murdered each day. Those "fortunate" enough to arrive at camps like Ravensbrüeck, Stutthof, Bergen-Belsen, et al. could look forward to a few more weeks of life, tortured though it was, as such camps simply worked their victims to death, refraining from killing them outright. (1)
There exist photos and videos of the extermination camps; of bodies, piled naked, rotting in the sun; bulldozers, plowing through fields of tormented dead, their skinny arms and legs jutting out helplessly towards the sky; the newly dead, with bullet holes marring their faces. Even a lampshade, made from human skin, sits on display, exemplifying the disgusting "ingenuity" of the Germans. (7)
It is easy enough to reject such horrible images as distant, from the past, or obsolete. It is easy enough to blame the infamous "they" with the crime, and to remove our proud nation from guilt. But the Holocaust occurred within the lifetimes of those still living, with America and the world as its witnesses. One must realize, for the sake of mankind, that we who are alive today are as human, as vulnerable, and as corruptible as those Nazis who committed such crimes and the Jews who fell victim to them.
And then, horrifyingly, we realize that the Holocaust was not the first, nor even the last genocide to occur. In the 1970s, Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge autogenocide brutally claimed 4 million lives, and in 1994, the Rwandan genocide between the Tutsis and the Hutus claimed almost 1,000,000. (3) Just last year the death toll of the ongoing violence in Darfur reached 200,000. (4)
Holocaust survivor and Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel once wrote, "It is the other's humanity that shapes my own." (2) Believing this, I recently visited the Zekelmen Family Holocaust Memorial Center, and had the privilege and honor of personally meeting Bill Weiss, a Holocaust survivor. A short, elderly man, losing what white hair he had left, he spoke in tentative English of his large family and how of over 40, only he and his father survived the Nazis. He told of cramped sleeping quarters in his concentration camp, measly food, and threadbare clothing. But his expression changed as he began to describe his work detail. No longer the kindly, innocent old gentleman whom I first met, his words became more forceful, his sentences more crisp. I looked into his eyes and saw not the sorrow or sadness I expected, but a hardened look, one searching his audience for a sense of realization, understanding, and vicarious pain.
At the age of 15, he was forced to witness the horror of the killing fields, as men, women, and children were brought to the edge of mass graves, forced to kneel, and shot at the base of their skull. As the limp bodies tumbled into the grave, the young boy was tasked with ensuring that the bodies rested properly, covering them with a thin layer of dirt. And then the killing would start anew. Mr. Weiss described the sounds of his workday: the shots of pistols punctuating the cries of confusion and terror of those awaiting their fate.
He told us of his growing thin and weak, of his near-starvation, and of his liberation at long last by American troops. He described how the battle-hardened GI's wept at the sight of the camp: decimated bodies lining the streets, some alive, some not. Tortured with feelings of helplessness, the young American soldiers gave what food they had to the starved inmates, unintentionally, tragically, and ironically killing them; the starving bodies were simply incapable of handling such things as candies and bread.
Stopping his chronicle abruptly, he paused, looking for questions. After a moment's hesitation, I raised my hand and asked of his emotional response to hearing that some, even government leaders, were denying the occurrence of the Holocaust. In his response, I expected biting criticism, disdain, or simple revulsion. Instead, his curt response was empty and flat: "I have no…no emotion of it." I waited for him to continue, studying his wrinkled face, searching for an unspoken meaning. But he said nothing more, and I found none.
Weeks later, I am still unsure as to why he said what he did, or left unspoken any words he might have wished to say. I can only hypothesize that the physical and psychological trauma he experienced, coupled with decades of reflection and numerous interviews, had flattened his emotions. Unable to conceive of someone denying his torture, he simply and honestly had "no emotion." Truly, his was the most appropriate yet tragic response that could be given.
It is said that one must remember the days of old and learn the lessons of those that came before us. So too may it be said that one must actively teach those who are to learn, that they learn the lesson well. And so we must pass down the memories of the Holocaust to the next generation of human souls, lest such atrocities be forgotten and history repeat itself again. It is our duty as members of the Human Race to pay the debt we owe to the dead and the yet unborn: to learn, to remember, to teach, and to act. We must each break down negative stereotypes, standing against and stopping the prejudice, discrimination, and violence that exists throughout our world.
Terrible is the guilt felt when learning of human atrocities that could have been prevented. As such, it is essential that we keep abreast of world affairs and keep alive our knowledge of history and the Holocaust. We must not let bigotry and hate rule our future, but work to prevent and eliminate the institutionalized prejudice extant in countries throughout the world.
Remembrance, however, is not enough; action is required. Our youth must be educated by example and we ourselves must take the first step, for those who remain silent amidst such wrongs are as guilty as the perpetrators themselves. And act we must, for the future generations of our world, indeed human civilization itself, is at stake.
REFERENCES
- Botwinick, Rita. A History of the Holocaust: From Ideology to Annihilation. New Jersey: Pearson Prentice Hall, 2004.
- Franck, Frederick. What Does It Mean To Be Human? New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 2001.
- Hewitt, William. Defining the horrific: Readings on Genocide and Holocaust in the Twentieth Century. New Jersey: Pearson Prentice Hall, 2004.
- "Sudan's Darfur Conflict." BBC News. 19 Apr. 2007. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/3496731.stm >
- Zekelman Family Holocaust Memorial Center. 17 Apr. 2007.
- Weiss, William. Personal Interview. 17 Apr. 2007.
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