This weekend, on the night between November 9th
and 10th, falls the seventy-fifth anniversary of Kristallnacht, the
pogrom in Nazi Germany and Austria that, at least in a sense, formally
initiated the reign of terror we have come to refer to broadly as the Shoah,
the Catastrophe.
Contemplating the numbers is unsettling enough. Ninety-one Jewish people were killed. (Later
on, of course, a mere ninety-one deaths in the context of the Nazi war against
the Jews would sound almost paltry. But at the time it was an unimaginable
number. There were, for example, fewer than seventy deaths in the infamous
Kishinev pogroms of 1903, at the time widely considered to have constituted the
worst example of anti-Semitic violence in Europe since medieval times.) More
than thirty thousand Jewish men and women were arrested and sent to
concentration camps. (This kind of mass incarceration of Jews had no precedent
at all in earlier instances of anti-Semitic violence.) Over one thousand
synagogues were destroyed. By most counts, more than seventy thousand Jewish
businesses were ransacked, most ruined beyond repair. But these numbers, as
horrific as they are, do not really explain in what sense Kristallnacht—the
Night of Broken Glass—changed everything. In retrospect, the potential for
anti-Semitic violence in Germany and Austria seems obvious from events far
earlier than 1938. And yet…there is
something about Kristallnacht that feels like a turning point, like a kind of
almost seismic shift in the social landscape of central Europe both in terms of
what it suggested about the future of European Jewry and what it said all too
clearly about the degree to which the general German populace was prepared to
look away while the vandals did their worst.
But, all that notwithstanding, the concept of Kristallnacht
as turning point has even more to do with the rest of the world than with
Germany itself. The events of 9-10 November were widely and accurately reported
in the world press. The opportunity for
the leaders of the free world to rise up as one and to insist that the Nazis
back down, to say unequivocally that the world simply would not tolerate
violence on that level prompted solely by anti-Semitism of the most virulent,
malicious sort, to insist that the Jews of Germany and Austria be
treated with basic human respect—this was the time for those leaders to do
something if ever they were going to do anything. But they did nothing at all.
Or almost nothing. FDR recalled the American ambassador from
Berlin for consultations in Washington and extended the visitors’ visas of
about 12,000 German Jewish visitors who were already in the United States. But
our president, one of the two or three individuals in the world whose forceful
action could conceivably have made a real difference in 1938, also
announced that he had no intention whatsoever of relaxing the quotas for Jewish
immigrants who wished to escape Europe and settle here. And Roosevelt himself
was responsible for seeing to it that the Wagner-Rogers bill, which would have
admitted 20,000 Jewish children to the United States outside the quota system,
never became law. (The Nazis eventually murdered seventy-five times that
many Jewish children. It would have been at least something. But, to borrow the
famous phrase and for once to mean it almost literally, none was too many.)
More to the point is that the real weapons in the hands of the world’s
major powers were left in their holsters. There were no economic sanctions
levied against Germany. No nation—not even a single one—severed its diplomatic
ties to Germany in the wake of the pogrom. The British refused even to consider
relaxing the restrictions that kept Jews from freely emigrating to British
Palestine. In the end, no countries renounced their immigration quotas and
simply invited those whose lives were in danger to escape to safety by settling
on their territory. In a sense, this was to be expected. The Evian Conference
of July 1938, which attracted delegates from no fewer than thirty-eight
countries to discuss the issue of Jewish refugees fleeing Nazi terror and which
was actually convened by President Roosevelt, was an abject failure. (The
single country that indicated its willingness to accept a significant number of
Jewish refugees was, of all places, the Dominican Republic.) There were some
harsh words of condemnation of Nazi racism and anti-Semitism, to be sure. But
harsh words are, in the end, just so much hot air and the German leadership got
the real message of Evian all too clearly, understanding that there actually
was no bottom line, no level of violence directed against the Jews of Germany
and Austria that the world would not, at least in the end, learn to tolerate.
Readers interested in learning more will find the picture of how things were
the most clearly and authoritatively drawn in Martin Gilbert’s book, Kristallnacht:
Prelude to Destruction, published in 2007 by HarperCollins and still widely
available. The background to the Evian Conference is covered extensively in
Richard Breitman and Allan J. Lichtman’s FDR and the Jews, published
earlier this year by Harvard University Press.
In my opinion, that is the sense in which Kristallnacht is
correctly understood as the threshold across which the world stepped in 1938
which led almost inexorably to Treblinka and Auschwitz, to Sobibor and to
Buchenwald: not because of the specifics of what happened that awful
Wednesday night, as horrible as they were, but far more direly because of the
specifics of what failed to happen. As Germany fell deeper and deeper into the
realm of the demonic, the sole factor that might have acted as a meaningful
brake would have been world opinion, united and unequivocal, accompanied by the
universal resolve to respond to Germany anti-Semitism forcefully and
meaningfully by striking at the Germany economy and at the very right of
Germany to its place in the world as a respected member of the family of
nations. Was Germany by 1938 so deeply in the thrall of evil itself that that
kind of concerted world reaction would have mattered? Who can say? The
leadership had already descended into madness. So had large cross-sections of
the populace. Perhaps nothing would have mattered in the long run. No one can
know…but the inverse is surely something I surely do know: that by collectively
shrugging its shoulders, even while muttering the requisite words of
condemnation, the world signaled to the German leadership that, in the end, the
degradation of the Jews in Germany and Austria was something the world could
learn to accept as essentially an internal German matter, something to be
regretted but ultimately endured. And
when the Germans began to extend out the boundaries of the Reich by swallowing
up countries all across Europe, including countries with immense Jewish
populations, the die of non-interventionalist apathy had already been cast.
For moderns looking back over the years and contemplating
these events from the vantage point of all these intervening years, there is no
more troubling aspect to the story of the Shoah than the one symbolized
specifically by the events of 9-10 November 1938 and their aftermath. That there are bad people in the world will
come as no surprise to any of my readers at all. But we feel safe in our beds
at night not because we imagine that the world is populated solely by
the righteous and the decent, but because we rely on ever widening circles of
officials to make us safe: our local police forces, our local fire departments,
the various national agencies that look after the safety of the citizenry on a
national level, the Armed Forces itself that defends us against foreign
aggressors and terrorists. We feel safe because, for the most part, we are safe.
And that, I believe, is the correct context in which to understand
Kristallnacht correctly: not so much in terms of the destruction it entailed,
but in terms of the permanent way it altered the way any sane Jew living under
the Nazis could imagine ever again feeling safe or secure.
To the extent that the horrors of that November evening long
ago managed finally to convince some of those who still had the wherewithal to
flee that the time had finally come to go, I suppose we could say that some
good came of Kristallnacht. That surely
is true, but, at least for those of us who know what came next, it seems odd in
the extreme to describe this particular event as anything but tangible evidence
that Germany had embraced the demonic and transcended its own politics to put
itself fully in the thrall of evil. Uncountable books have been written about
the ultimate reasons for Nazi anti-Semitism, about the specific reasons that a
nation so renowned for its contributions to world culture could abandon even
the outer trappings of civility and embrace a code of behavior so outside the
norms of its own cultural standards that even today the German embrace
of violence and political extremism seems impossible fully to fathom. I hope
one day to make my own contribution to this discussion, and to do so by
focusing on the nature of evil in the world rather than on politics or history.
The medievals wrote extensively about the kingdom of King Samael and Queen
Lilith, the monarchs of the demonic realm. It is on that specific terrain that
I hope to set up camp…and perhaps in so doing to make some sort of modest
contribution to the twin questions that churn and roil at the center of the
matter. How can this even have happened? And what can we do to prevent it ever
from happening again?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.