I finished reading the traumatic book, "PuppenHouse" ("House of Dolls") by Ka-Tzetnick 135633 (AKA. K. Tzetnick), a strange name for an author. This name actually means "A prisoner in concentration camp" (short for Konzentrationslager). He was a holocaust survivor, and survived the worst. His book describes some of the horrors he and others have been through. I'm still shaking and feeling a deep sense of revulsion, as if my body wishes to purge itself of all that I had read. It is a harsh reminder to the evil that still exists in the world, to the fact that cultured people, who have free choice, can choose to use all their high intelligence, all their creativity and sophistication, to inflict the worst kinds of suffering and humiliation upon other human beings like themselves. It is something that is hard to grasp, the heart refuses to believe it can be. Yet, we know it can be, unfortunately. People, who have been endowed with so many gifts - instead of using these gifts to make this world a better place for themselves and for others, use their gifts to degrade themselves by degrading others. It is unfathomable, but this book is a reminder that this kind of reality exists. The Germans, who are considered to be of the highest culture in terms of music, literature, art, made themselves into the worst satanic beasts the world has ever known, using all their talents to ruin the world and endless numbers of lives in it. I just can't understand it.
Yet, the wheels of justice keep rolling, and even if it sometimes takes time, justice is being done. It is no coincidence that recent historic events made it so that all the Muslim refugees flood into Europe. And - mostly to Germany. The beginning of the end has started for Europe, and for Germany most of all. Sad, but true.
Similarly, the Notre-Dam in Paris was the place in which some 700 years ago they burned all copies of the Talmud they could put their hands on. And now, 700 years later, the same thing happened to the structure itself. Sad, but true. G-d is a G-d of justice and His hand in History shows this. At least the Germans recognize their responsibility and guilt and some of them try to make it better by volunteering in hospitals here, etc.. It's one thing I give them. One other thing that I give them is a neighbor of mine - she is a tall, beautiful ultra-orthodox woman, a doctor. She was born to a non-Jewish German family. She met a secular Israeli man in Berlin, they fell in love and moved in together. One day, she asked him to take her to a synagogue, to see what it was like. He wasn't enthusiastic about it, but they went anyway. And from there started her love story with Judaism. She converted orthodox conversion, and her secular boyfriend became very religious following this, and now they are ultra-orthodox, living in a huge, beautiful villa down my new street, raising 6 beautiful religious children who are bilingual, and doing a lot of Kiddush HaShem (sanctifying G-d's name by their way of living). Their home is always open for guests, and they are just beautiful. If Germany can produce people like her, then maybe Germany has hope after all.
So I went to the library to return this book today, and took three other books. One of them is about a topic that I wanted to read about long ago - the Eichmann trial. I didn't plan to look for the book this time, but the book just found me. My eyes fell on it, "accidentally", and I took it. It's a book by Haim Guri, a famous Israeli poet who was a reporter in the trial back then. I had a few minutes before my class, so I sat there at the Bet HaAm library and started reading. First of all, my eyes fell on this sentence by Guri: "I know now that I will remember this day all the days of my life. I'm writing it in my notebook: April 17th, 1961". I shuddered. April 17th. It's today. What are the odds... And then I keep reading, and it says that the trial took place in Jerusalem at... not other than BET HAAM! Where I was just sitting and reading the book... What are the odds? Same place, same time, just 58 years later... I've been to Bet HaAm many times before. I've never known that the trial took place there! What are the odds of finding it out this way, as I was accidentally sitting and reading the book there, at this time, at this place? I feel it is meaningful and that I should really read the book. Don't know why, but perhaps I'll know when I finish it. One thing that struck me there was that Eichmann kept saying he was not guilty. He didn't deny what he did, he just attributed the guilt to his commanders. He was just an obedient clerk, he said. Since he was a child he was trained for obedience, and even if they had ordered him to shoot his own father to death, he would have done so. What a horrible thing for a human being to say! As if he has no free choice, no moral reasoning that can help him choose when to obey and when to disobey. As if obedience for the devil is as praiseworthy as obedience to G-d. Horrible. I thought to myself that perhaps it is good that the Torah was not given to the Germans, because they would have fulfilled it with obedience to the letter - but not for the right reasons, just for the sake of blind obedience. The Torah, instead, was given to a stiff-necked people - a nation that chooses to choose, that chooses to exercise its own free will, and when such a nation observes G-d's commandments, it's not out of blind obedience to whomever. It's because they want to obey G-d. I must admit that I have the deepest respect for those of the Germans who were righteous and did exercise their right to choose, and chose right by saving innocent lives, often at the risk of their own lives and that of their families. I admire them because I know it is probably harder for them to overcome their childhood indoctrination to blindly obey authority and power. And there were many like them. Yes, perhaps Germany does have hope, after all. Still, when I tried to learn their language after my military service, I stopped short. I couldn't stand hearing those sounds coming out of my own mouth. It was too chilling for me to bear. My neighbors next door are ultra-orthodox - they and their children speak Yiddish. It's a much softer version of German, and it doesn't make me feel bad at all. To the contrary.
Yesterday, after a whole day of working and studying, I went to the Hadassah hospital to visit Esther, the woman I wrote about at an earlier post, from the hospice. I didn't plan to go, but something inside me urged me to. When I got to her room, I saw that it was empty. I rushed up to ask the nurse to which room they moved her. The nurse asked me what I was for her. I told her that I was just an acquaintance. She asked me to sit and brought me a cup of water. She said she was sorry. I was so shocked to hear it. I wasn't prepared at all. I thought she had at least a few good months to live. I felt so bad, and sorry. Yes, I feel relief for her. She was under a lot of suffering. I wanted to tell her that there will be a Seder at the hospital, and that she could join it, but this year she will look at us from above and see the Seder from there, without doing it herself. I'm sad for her family. But I think she must feel relief. She is an example of someone who observed the Torah to the last moment, even under very strong pain, exercising her right to choose by choosing the right way.
Passover is just around the corner, and in it we will tell the story of another holocaust we had, the Egyptian one, in which all the baby boys were killed and our fathers were enslaved in Egyptian arbeitslager, work camps. How sweet it is to lift my eyes from the horrible holocaust stories, look around me and see Jerusalem all around me... to realize we are a free nation in Zion, in the Promised Land, in the Land of Israel. What a gift, what a blessing. Even though our troubles haven't ended yet, our situation now is better than any we have ever had as a nation - even better than in King David's and King Solomon's time, and I'm thankful to have been born at such a time in history, when all the promises of G-d are being fulfilled - on me, and on all my neighbors, colleagues, friends, family.
There are so many places I wanted to be this coming Passover, and so many things I wanted to do, but I promised my mother that I will go there and be with the family this year, and I cannot let her down. She is working hard to make the house glatt-Kosher for Passover, for me, as she says. All the guests will be instructed not to turn on the TV, not to talk on the phone, not to discuss politics, etc., just to give me the right holiday spirit. And still, I'm apprehensive, as I'm going to be the only religious person there. All the others, while they believe in G-d, are not very observant, and I'm afraid it would ruin the holiday atmosphere for me. But I feel it's important for me to be there - to give the next generation a proper holiday experience in the hope that it would inspire them when they grow up to live a more observant life. Amen. Last Shabbat was Shabbat HaGadol, the birthday of my father of blessed memory. I hope it would make him happy, wherever he is in heaven, that the whole family will do the Seder together this year.
Anyway, for those of you who celebrate a real Seder or a model seder of some sort - have a good Pesach and keep writing to me! Your emails keep this blog going!
R.
No comments:
Post a Comment