The Latest Book on the Holocaust
April 24, 2014
A while ago, I learned about a new book that Gefen Publishing has
produced. It is a simple book – but one that raises complex questions. There is only one word in
it, but it is repeated many, many times. The word is “Jew,” and it appears in
this newly published book six million times.
(See a recent New York Times article describing the book here.)
The book is entitled, “And Every Single One
Was Someone,” and its point is clear. The book seeks
to capture within its covers the immensity of the Jewish people’s losses during
the Holocaust. As you turn page after
page after page you see what an incredibly large number six million is. You realize the magnitude of the loss.
To the extent that this book sensitizes
people (both Jews and non-Jews) to the scale of the catastrophe that we call
the Shoah, I think that it is accomplishing something important. We should never overestimate the knowledge or
understanding of the Holocaust of even the most well-meaning gentiles or Jews. A book like this can make a point. It is true that a picture is worth a thousand
words, but perhaps six million words may be worth many, many pictures of the
degradation, abuse, and murder our people endured.
However, there is something about this work that I find disappointing--and even disturbing. First, notwithstanding
its title, it reduces the victims to one and only one description: Jew.
The victims of the Holocaust whom we mourn – whom we may remember as
mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts or uncles -- were, of course,
murdered because they were Jews. This we
know. But they were more than just
nameless, faceless, fungible Jews. They were
real-live human beings with names and occupations and interests and loves. The famous poem by Zelda, “L’chol ish yesh shem,” or “Each Of Us
Has A Name,” comes to mind:
Each
of us has a name
given
by God
and
given by our parents;
Each
of us has a name
given
by our stature and our smile
and
given by what we wear;
Each
of us has a name
given
by the mountains
and
given by our walls;
Each
of us has a name
given
by the stars
and
given by our neighbors;
Each
of us has a name
given
by our sins
and
given by our longing;
Each
of us has a name
given
by our enemies
and
given by our love;
Each
of us has a name
given
by our celebrations
and
given by our work;
Each
of us has a name
given
by the seasons
and
given by our blindness;
Each
of us has a name
given
by the sea
and
given by
our death.
Yad Vashem (Israel's national center for holocaust research, documentation, education and commemoration) has been painstakingly seeking to identify the
names of each and every victim of the Holocaust. According to the New York Times, so far, 4.3 million victims have been identified. It isn’t clear whether the researchers at Yad
Vashem will succeed in identifying precisely six million victims. What if they come up with only five and a
half million? What if they come up with
six and a half million? Will it be
necessary to print a second edition of the book? Certainly not, for the number “Six Million” was never intended to be an exact figure. (See this article from the Israeli newspaper, Haaretz.)
But if "Six Million" is not an exact figure, then this book is more
an impressionistic work of art than a historically accurate representation. There’s nothing offensive about that, of
course -- and on that basis the work deserves appreciation. But I doubt that its producers or purchasers understand it that way.
There's another reason I recoil from a book like
this. According to The Times, Abe Foxman, the executive director of the ADL, is giving away three thousand copies of the book, and he has said that he'd like to see one of them in the Oval Office. I'm going to assume that there isn't room in the Oval Office for more than one book about the Jews. Should this be the one?
We Jews aren't simply victims, and we shouldn’t think of
ourselves simply as victims. Yes, we have been victimized, but we should also think of ourselves as independent actors in the world, with worthwhile values
and a rich culture; as heirs to a profound religious civilization; as a people
with a zest for life and an inspiring mission.
About twenty years ago, I visited a mega-church in the South.
It was a holiday weekend, so there were only a few thousand (!) parishioners
in attendance. The ushers couldn’t
have been warmer or more friendly. The music was lively and exuberant and I felt right at home. The music died down, and then the pastor rose
and said, “The subject I would like to speak to you about today is, “What We Can Learn From The Jews.”
All eyes were on the pastor and
all ears were tuned to his message, which was simple: “The Jews are united—and we should be, too. The
Jews live by one message: ‘Never Again.’ That
should be our message, too! That
message tells the world that the Jews aren’t going to take it anymore. And neither should we.”
On the one hand, I felt slightly proud that this pastor felt
that his flock should learn something from the way in which we Jews have responded, with resilience and determination, to the terrible calamities that have befallen us.
But I felt that something—something very important—was
missing. I would have wanted to hear about—I
would have wanted that congregation to hear about—a few Jewish values other than, “Never
Again.” I would have wanted to hear
about our devotion to study and lovingkindess, our commitment to truth and
to justice.
“Never Again” may have been the Jewish message that that pastor
wanted to share with his flock, and it may be the message conveyed by the publication and distribution of "And Every Single One Was Someone," but that just isn’t enough of a message for
me. And if I had the opportunity to put one
and only one book about Jews on a coffee table, it wouldn’t be a book with the word
“Jew” written in it six million times. I’d put
the Bible there, or the Mishnah, or an anthology of texts from the Talmud, or a one-volume Jewish encyclopedia, or some other book that
seeks to speak not merely about what once happened to us—as horrid as it was—but
about the wisdom, truth, compassion and grace that we have brought—and hopefully will continue to bring—to the world.
As we prepare to commemorate Yom HaShoa this weekend, may the memories of all of the Jewish victims of the Holocaust
serve as a blessing for us and for all humanity. May those memories lead
us to renew our commitment to living lives devoted to the study of Torah and
the observance of many, many good deeds.
