“Everything is Forbidden to Us, and Yet We Do Everything”

The Struggle to Maintain the Human Spirit during the Holocaust

RATIONALE & TEXTS FOR USE IN CEREMONIES

“Everything is Forbidden to Us, and Yet We Do Everything”The Struggle to Maintain the Human Spirit during the Holocaust

In the diary that he kept in the Warsaw ghetto, teacher and educator Chaim Aharon Kaplan wrote, “In these days of our misfortune, we live the life of Marranos. Everything is forbidden to us, and yet we do everything.”1

With these words, Kaplan expressed the struggle of the Jews to maintain their human spirit under the impossible conditions in which they found themselves under Nazi German occupation.

From their rise to power, the Nazis strove to exclude all Jews – men, women and children – from the human race. They did not recoil from any means to accomplish that goal, and implemented a policy of racist oppression and legalized terror against the Jews. The Jews were isolated, cut off, singled out and starved. The Nazi process of dehumanization eventually became a systematic campaign of extermination, wherein approximately six million Jews were murdered.

Everywhere the Nazi regime reached, it acted to rupture the very structures of Jewish life, both communal and familial. Among other steps, they attempted to annihilate the Jewish spirit and culture. Therefore, one of the Nazis’ first acts was the destruction of synagogues, and the outlawing of Jewish prayer and public assembly. Confronting this reality, the Jewish community found itself moving anxiously between self-preservation and disintegration, between dire crisis and persistent efforts to create communal frameworks that might facilitate continued physical and spiritual existence.

Under the subsistence conditions of the Holocaust, where life and death existed in such close proximity, many Jews naturally focused their efforts upon their own physical survival and that of their dear ones. In a world where murder had become the norm and brute force begat acts of unprecedented horror, many were unable to do more than struggle for mere survival. Yet, simultaneously, some were able to behave differently, and demonstrated astonishing spiritual strength during a time of persecution and death. Facing the disintegration of entire fabrics of life, they clung to the essence of existence and attempted to preserve life grounded in moral values, as well as a cultural dimension befitting a decent society.

Alongside externally imposed hunger, humiliation and isolation, the Jewish ghettos also contained self-initiated organizations for mutual aid and support, medical care and culture. Many mobilized to help those weaker than themselves. Throughout the entire period, there were Jews who displayed exemplary sacrifice in their attempts to save their brethren. In a reality where education was prohibited, small study groups were established in which children met covertly and studied with teachers, whose recompense was usually meager portions of food. Even under the harshest of conditions, Jews exercised creativity, wrote, prayed, issued religious rulings, and secretly observed their holidays. Youth groups and underground journalism were evident, as were impressive cultural undertakings, such as theatrical performances, lectures, literary evenings and poetry readings.

In January 1942, in the Vilna ghetto, archivist and Bund member Herman Kruk wrote in his diary, “Today I received a formal invitation from a group of founding Jewish artists in the ghetto announcing that the first evening of the local artistic circle will be held… in the auditorium of the Real Gymnasium at Rudnicka 6. A dramatic and vocal musical program will be presented… I felt offended, personally offended… Here,

1 Kaplan, Chaim Aharon. Scroll of Agony: The Warsaw Diary of Chaim A. Kaplan (Indiana University Press, 1999), p. 174.

in the doleful situation of the Vilna ghetto, in the shadow of Ponar, where, of the 76,000 Vilna Jews, only some 15,000 remain – here, at this moment, this is a disgrace.” The Bundists decided to boycott the event, and in the streets of the ghetto Yiddish placards were hung, reading: “You don’t make a theatre in a graveyard.”2

However, some two months later, Kruk entered as follows in his diary: “Nevertheless, life is stronger than anything. In the Vilna ghetto, life begins to pulse again. Under the overcoat of Ponar, a life creeps out that strives for a better morning. The boycotted concerts prevail. The halls are full. The literary evenings burst their seams, and the local hall cannot hold the large number that comes there.”3

Evidence of spiritual activity could be found even behind the barbed wire of the camps, helping the prisoners transcend the extreme existential hardships there. Jewish women, deported via Auschwitz to a labor camp in Germany, organized study groups in 1944. Each woman was asked to write down poetry from memory on a piece of paper, using pencils gathered painstakingly from the ruins of the bombed-out buildings where they labored. “After a few days we were seated in a circle writing, and a few days later held our first reading. We invited guests from the other blocks and declaimed grandly until we almost forgot where we were.”

Writing was also a way to preserve the freedom of the human spirit: Many Jews documented their lives. Artists and intellectuals, along with children and laymen, described the shattering horror of the war through words and pictures. Some wrote out of their will to preserve the memory of the tragedy for future generations, as a final testimony. Others viewed writing as a means of venting and expressing feelings of guilt, pain and rage. Writing was also a means to sustain their spirits as free men and women. Facing the horror of death, diaries became the sole testaments that their owners left behind, the last remnant of the human soul.

Even today, the atrocities perpetrated by and in the name of Nazi Germany throughout Europe elicit challenging questions regarding the abyss to which humanity can descend. At the same time, the horrors of the period also illustrate how high the human spirit can soar, as evidenced in the actions and sacrifice of the persecuted, as Jews and as human beings. Even today, over 70 years after the Holocaust, we are inspired by the spiritual fortitude of those who upheld their ethics and values in a world in which these had collapsed around them.

In his book, Man’s Search for Meaning, psychologist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl wrote, “Man can preserve a vestige of spiritual freedom, of independence of mind, even in such terrible conditions of psychic and physical stress.”

Many of those who struggled to maintain and preserve the human spirit did not survive the horrors of the Holocaust, but their deeds and actions are a reminder to future generations of the stamina and the nobility of the human spirit.

2Kruk, Herman. The Last Days of the Jerusalem of Lithuania: Chronicles from the Vilna Ghetto and the Camps, 1939-1944 (Yale University Press, 2002), p. 1743Ibid., pp. 226-227

We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who

walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last

piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer

sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one

thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in

any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.

And there were always choices to make. Every day, every hour,

offered the opportunity to make a decision, a decision which

determined whether you would or would not submit to those

powers which threatened to rob you of yourself, your inner

freedom.

Viktor E. Frankl, “Man’s Search for Meaning”, Simon and Schuster Publishers, 1985

I prefer to emphasize the kindness and compassion of my brothers in misfortune.

These qualities were found even in the kingdom of darkest night, as I can testify

- indeed, as I must. The Jewish soul was a target of the enemy. He sought to

corrupt it, even as he strove to destroy us physically. But despite his destructive

force, despite his corrupting power, the Jewish soul remained beyond his reach.

I remember a Dutchman who shared his bread with a comrade sicker than he was,

a comrade he did not know. “I prefer to be hungry than to feel remorse,” he said.

Elie Wiesel, All Rivers Run To The Sea, HarperCollins Publishers, 1996

Dr. Emanuel Ringelblum was the founder, director and leading spirit of the Underground Archives in the Warsaw Ghetto, also known as “Oneg Shabbat”. The excerpt below is taken from his last letter, written on March 1st, 1944, and intended to be read by Jewish cultural figures in the free world. One week later, on March 7, the Gestapo discovered the underground hideout in the ghetto where he and his family were hiding. Dr. Ringelblum, his wife Jehudith, his son Uriah and thirty-five others, mostly intelligentsia, underwent terrible torture at the hands of the Germans, and were shot in the ruins of Warsaw.

Dear Friends,

We are writing to you at a time when ninety-five percent of the Jews of Poland

have already perished in gruesome sufferings, in the gas-chambers of the

slaughterhouses of Treblinka, of Sobibor, of Chelmno and Osweicim, or were

murdered in the countless “liquidation-actions” in ghettos and camps….

A clandestine, central Jewish Archive has been created, with the innocent name

of Oneg Shabbat, under the leadership of Dr. Emanuel Ringelblum, its initiator,

and with the active help of H. Wasser, E. Gutkowski, M.A., Rabbi S. Huberband, S.

Winter, M. Kon, A. Lewison, a.o. This archive collected materials and documents

related to the martyrdom of Polish Jews. The intensive efforts of this staff resulted

in the accumulation of more than ten crates of particularly valuable documents,

chronicles, diaries, write-ups, photographs, etc. All these materials were buried

underground within the Ghetto. These are not at present accessible. Most of the

material which was sent out abroad came from our archives. We did alert the world

with exact information about the most serious crime in human history. We continue

with the work of our archives. In the face of incredible conditions we continue

collecting documents and notes connected with the sufferings, the struggle and the

present condition in which the remnant of Polish Jewry survives… At the present

moment, there are no more Jews in Vilna. This great center of Jewish culture and

modern scientific work has been completely destroyed.... It is doubtful that we

will meet again. Give our warm greetings to all Jewish cultural workers, writers,

journalists, musicians, sculptors, all builders of present-day Jewish culture and

fighters for our national redemption, and that of humanity as a whole.

Dr. Emanuel Ringelblum, Dr. A. Berman

Warsaw, March 1, 1944

To Live with Honor, To Die with Honor, Edited by Joseph Kermish, Yad Vashem Publishers, 1986

David Graber, Nahum Grzywacz and Israel Lichtensztajn constituted the Technical Committee of the Oneg Shabbat Archive, and it was their task to conceal its documents and papers in the ground. None of the three survived and the only trace of them remained in the three short notes authored by them, contained in the Archive together with their testaments and uncovered with the first installment of the archive.

Warsaw, July 31, 1942

I have thrown myself, with flaming enthusiasm, into the work of collecting material for the archive. I have been charged with the role of guardian of the access gate. I hid the material…I know we shall not last. It is not possible to live through, to survive such horrible murders, such massacres. This is why I write my testament. It may be that I do not deserve to be remembered, only perhaps for the courage to help with the Oneg Shabbat group, to be the one most exposed to danger, for my having hidden the entire material. To pay with my head would have been a trifle. I risk my head for my beloved wife, Gele Sekstein, and for that jewel of mine, my little daughter Margalit.Wish we were the redeeming sacrifice for all the other Jews the world over. I do believe in the survival of the People. Jews shall not be wiped out.

From the testament of Israel Lichtensztajn, To Live with Honor, To Die with Honor, Yad Vashem Publishers, 1996

3 August 1942

I want no thanks. For me enough if future generations remember out times….Not for getting thanks we stayed up entire nights. With what kind of enthusiasm we two, Grzywacz and I, supervised and helped by Lichtensztajn, dug the graves for the boxes; with what joy we received each new material. We sensed our responsibility. We shied from no risk. It was clear to us we were creating a piece of history and that was more important than individual life…May the treasure fall in good hands, may it last into better times, may it alarm and alert the world to what happened and was played out in the twentieth century.

From the testament of David Graber, To Live with Honor, To Die with Honor,Yad Vashem Publishers, 1996

We have decided to describe the present times. Yesterday we sat up till late in the night, since we did not know whether we would survive till today. Now I am in the midst of writing, while in the streets the terrible shooting is going on… Of one thing I am proud, that in these grave and fateful days I was one of those who buried the treasure… in those days when they were shooting… in order that you should know of the tortures and murders of the Nazi tyranny.

From the testament of Nahum Grzywacz, Facing History and Ourselves – the Jews of Poland, Massechusetts

Secret teaching of Judaic subjects flourished. They were

taught by the great Talmudic scholars Lazar Panzer and Schein

Klingberg…

Three synagogues existed, and the religious life did not suffer

any significant change. Services were held, people generally

observed the religious tenets-fasting, celebrating the Shabbat

and observing the holidays. During these holidays, ardent

devotion was evident. The lamentations and zeal written on

their faces betokened, only too well, the depth and intensity of

their worship.

From the windows of the pharmacy facing the large courtyard

in the rear of the building, I saw an old man with a gray beard

and peyoth [side curls] rhythmically rocking to the plaintive

sounds of the cantor’s hymns…I saw old women in lace-

embroidered shawls standing motionless with glassy staring

eyes, immersed in the monotonous sounds of the prayers while

in the depths of grief and anxiety for themselves and their

loved ones.

Often, and particularly in the periods of the Jewish holidays,

I would listen to conversations and discussions on religious

topics. The atmosphere-serious, mystical… overwhelmed one

with its irresistible power.

Tadeusz Pankiewiz, “The Cracow Ghetto Pharmacy”, New York: Holocaust Library, 1987

We are slaves, deprived of every right, exposed to every

insult, condemned to certain death, but we still possess one

power, and we must defend it with all our strength, for it is

the last – the power to refuse our consent…

…So we must certainly wash our faces without soap in dirty

water and dry ourselves on our jackets. We must polish our

shoes, not because the regulation states it, but for dignity

and propriety. We must walk erect, without dragging our

feet, not in homage to Prussian discipline but to remain alive,

not to begin to die.

Primo Levi, as quoted in “Auschwitz – Voices from the Ground, Auschwitz-Birkenau”, Panstwowe Muzeum, 1992

29 January 1944

I’m vain enough to believe that this diary may be found hundreds of years from

now and serve as an important source of information. That’s why I included

all the trivial things, because they may provide an outsider with a more vivid

picture. After all, I’m so caught up in all this that I can’t put myself in the shoes

of a person who isn’t going through all this himself and therefore knows

nothing about it. Perhaps one day our children will read it.

10 April 1944

And now, Pesach…. For the Seder plate we had… nothing. On Friday

evening, we got changed and the children especially looked very

smart… On the table, a cardboard box covered with a white towel. On

it: saucers with dried vegetables, a mixture of raw carrot, beetroot and

potato, salt water. All with a piece of paper, by way of a label, explaining

what it represents. A jam jar for the wine. Tea surrogate for wine. Two

cushions with covers. Tea lights for candles….

First I told the story, very briefly. That we have to celebrate the Seder

as if we’d been through it ourselves, which we used to find difficult,

but not at all now, because we’re actually experiencing slavery… But

that after this slavery we shall also live to see deliverance. It really hit

home And so we celebrated the entire Seder – omitting quite a few

sections of course – and in conclusion, the children sang “L’Shana Hazot

BiYerushalayim” [This year in Jerusalem] and we all sang “Hatikvah.”

Tears all round. But everybody was elated.

Miriam Bolle, Letters Never Sent, Yad Vashem Publishers, 2014

Dr. Elchanan Elkes became leader of the Council of Elders in the Kovno ghetto on 4 August 1941. All who knew him affirmed that he was completely devoted to the Jewish cause, courageous and dignified in his dealings with the Nazis, an ethical and modest leader, and comfortable with his fellow Jews. Elkes supported the ghetto’s resistance movement and helped gather supplies for the General Jewish Fighting Organization. In July 1944, the Soviet army was advancing towards Kovno. At that point, the Nazis began liquidating the ghetto and relocating its inhabitants to Germany. Elkes risked his life by approaching the commander of the ghetto, Wilhelm Goecke, to suggest that Goecke change his plan to transfer the Jews to Germany. Goecke refused Elkes’ suggestion, but let him leave without punishment. The ghetto was emptied a few days later. Elkes was sent to the Landsberg concentration camp in Germany, and put in charge of the camp’s hospital hut. Elkes soon got sick, and he died on October 17, 1944. A year before, almostto the day, Elkes wrote a letter to his children in England, an excerpt of which follows:

Williampola, Ghetto Kovno

October 19, 1943

My beloved son and daughter!

I am writing these lines to you, my beloved children, at a time when we have already been here, in the vale of tears, in the Kovno ghetto of Williampola for over two years. We found out that in the next few days our fate will be decided: the ghetto that we’re in will be cut and shredded to pieces. Only God know whether we will all be destroyed or whether some of us will remain…

I have been the head of the ghetto since the day it was founded…

Standing straight and tall, I have stood watch, asking not for pity, but always defending our honor with faith and confidence in the sincerity and justice of our demands.

In the most difficult moments of our lives, you, my beloved, have always been on our minds and part of our thoughts. During long and dark nights, your beloved mother sits with me, and we both dream about your lives and future….

I am very doubtful, my beloved souls, whether I will be privileged to see you again, to hug and squeeze you to my hearts. Prior to my departing from the world and from you, my beloved, I wish to say again and again how precious you are to us, and how we yearn for you.

My beloved Joel! Be a loyal son to your people… Try to settle in the Land of Israel. The power of faith is great, and it can transfer and move mountains from their place. Do not look either right and left on your path, my son, go straight before you… Truth, my beloved, should always be a guiding light, it will guide you and show you the path of life.

Concerning you, Sarah, my beloved daughter, read carefully the last words that I wrote to Joel. I rely, my lovely one, on your clear mind and intellect. Don’t live for the moment and don’t ask as you go on your way, for blooming flowers. They will wither and droop as fast as they’ve appeared. A pure life, a noble life, a life full of content is so full of beauty. The two of you should go together throughout life, attached and holding one another. No distance should separate you and no events of life should come between you….

My strength wanes. I feel as if a desolate desert is within me and my soul is departing. I am naked and empty with no words in my language. But you, my dear beloved, you will have insight and understand what I wished for you and wanted to tell you at this time. For a moment I close my eyes and picture the two of you standing before me. I hereby hug and kiss you and I tell you until my last breath that I am your loving father.

Elchanan [Elkes]

Last Letters from the Shoah, Edited by Walter Zwi Bacharach, Yad Vashem Publishers, 2013

The Ten Days of Repentance 5705

September 1944

My dear and beloved parents,

It is very difficult for me to write you this letter. When you get it, I will be on the way to an unknown destination. Indeed, this isn’t the first time that I part from you, but the circumstances give extra meaning to this parting – the end of a stage in our lives. When I now try to thank you again for all the love, the kindness and consideration, for the education and all the good and beauty that I’ve experienced because of you, I try to put in words that which lies deep within me…

It is clear to me that the moment I go on the train I will be making the final step towards my materialistic proletarianization and with this I will complete the process that started with the journey from Westerbork. But it will just be a physical proletarianization; I will always remain who I was spiritually. And you can be sure that I will get out of this distress, despite the fact that I have no control over some situations. With my thoughts I am able to seal myself off from the world so completely that I resemble a rolled-up hedgehog trying to protect itself from hostile surroundings. In addition to this, I can also survive with clothes that are not so good, because my deepest ambition is to “live in peace,” that is, I will always try to strictly preserve my spiritual independence. With all that’s happened to me until now, for better or for worse, I’ve always been able to learn. And I also hope that from this new experience towards which I’m traveling, I can learn lessons to be used later when I move from a passive struggle to an active struggle for the sake of our Jewish people. I believe that this is the role and purpose that God designated for me: to help as much as I can that this tragedy which now befalls the Jewish people specifically, and the nations of the world in general, will not repeat itself. How I will go about doing this-this is still hidden in the bosom of the future. At this time, our mission is to endure with an iron strength and ward off any hardship, and internalize every good matter. To wait and to hope that the gates of freedom will open.Faith and hope – courage and goodwill.These will help us all get through this period in order to approach our duties later.And now I would like to request from you, my beloved parents, not to lose hope in any way whatsoever…Believe in our reunificationHope for the future,Be brave in overcoming the obstaclesAnd strengthen the will to live for our sake, your sons.Be strong and courageous.The future is ours.

With thanks!

Leopold

Last Letters from the Shoah, Edited by Walter Zwi Bacharach, Yad Vashem Publishers, 2013

Avraham Cytryn was born in Lodz on October 10, 1927. When he was 13 his family was interned in the ghetto. At the end of August 1944, the family was deported to Auschwitz, and Avraham never returned. Three days after he came to the camp and was separated from his mother and sister, he joined a group of children who had been promised an extra portion of soup. He was gassed with the entire group. His sister, Lucy, 4 years older than he, survived. She remembers that her brother, while he was still in the ghetto, was gripped by his obsession to write, and was engrossed in his notebooks every spare hour he had.

The Cheerful Pessimists

Dear friends! To hell with sorrow

Pessimism is worthless.

Dear friends! Not every day can we laugh.

Off with you, sorrow, long live joy!

Leap, turn, move!

Throw your pains and bad habits into the rubbish heap.

We are cheerful pessimists.

Youthful, as light as the wind.

Hurrah to youth, long live joy, and to hell with all the rest!

Life is fleeting and filled with dangers.

So let us remain united forever.

He who had drained the cup of misery

Will be plagued by fear all his life.

Let joy intoxicate us into forgetfulness

Let us forget our suffering and troubles

Off with you sorrow that stymies our hearts.

Avraham Cytryn, Youth Writing Behind the Walls, Avraham Cytryn’s Lodz Notebooks,

Yad Vashem Publishers, 2005

Avraham Cytryn was born in Lodz on October 10, 1927. When he was 13 his family was interned in the ghetto. At the end of August 1944, the family was deported to Auschwitz, and Avraham never returned. Three days after he came to the camp and was separated from his mother and sister, he joined a group of children who had been promised an extra portion of soup. He was gassed with the entire group. His sister, Lucy, 4 years older than he, survived. She remembers that her brother, while he was still in the ghetto, was gripped by his obsession to write, and was engrossed in his notebooks every spare hour he had.

Death

Do not embrace me, death, I want to live!

My body may be dead, but my heart beats yet.

I still want to hold on to my life

And you give off the smell of decay.

Go to rule the earth of the bereaved.

I have two eyes and hands – nightmare, nuisance,

You do not move away from me – holes light up in you,

You are sad, terrible, dreadful, please, go away!

Your eyes are two black spots

And the emptiness in them dwells, whines, terrifies,

Hypnotizes and exhausts the soul.

Do not dare to glare at me.

Go, despot, to rule over your world!

I want to live, although my wings are broken –

Indeed I have been trapped alive in a terrible net.

I have but one more hour to take leave of the world,

A spark of my existence still flickers inside me,

And faint life still burns within me

That always, unchanging, flows through me.

Avraham Cytryn, Youth Writing Behind the Walls, Avraham Cytryn’s Lodz Notebooks,

Yad Vashem Publishers, 2005

A Dream

When I grow up and reach the age of 20,

I’ll set out to see the enchanting world.

I’ll take a seat in a bird with a motor;

I’ll rise and soar high into space.

I’ll fly, sail, hover

Over the lovely faraway world.

I’ll soar over rivers and oceans

Skyward shall I ascend and blossom,

A cloud my sister, the wind my brother.

I’ll marvel at the Euphrates and the Nile,

I’ll see the Pyramids and the Sphinx

Of ancient Egypt, where the goddess Isis reigned.

I’ll fly over Niagara Falls

And immerse myself in a searing Sahara dune.

I’ll drift over the cloud-strewn cliffs of Tibet

And the mysterious land of the wizards:

And once I extricate myself

From the scorching, terrifying wave of heat,

I’ll meander over the icebergs of the north.

By wind I’ll cross the great kangaroo island

And the ruins of Pompeii,

And the Holy Land of the Old Testament,

And over the land of the renowned Homer

I’ll fly slowly, slowly, hovering lazily.

And thus, basking in the enchantments of this world,

Skyward shall I soar and blossom

A cloud my sister, the wind my brother.

Avraham Koplowicz*, as quoted in the leaflet from the exhibition, “The Last Ghetto: Life in the Lodz Ghetto 1940-1944” at The Historical Museum, Yad Vashem, 1995

*Avraham Koplowicz wrote his poetry in his diary in the Lodz ghetto. He was sent to Auschwitz with the last transport, and was murdered there in September 1944. After the war, his diary was found and published.

The last entry in Anne’s diary is dated August 1st, 1944. On 4 August 1944, Anne was arrested together with the other seven people hiding in the Secret Annex. In late October 1944, Anne Frank and her sister Margot were transferred from Auschwitz to the Bergen Belsen concentration camp, where they both perished of typhus.

Saturday, July 15, 1944

…It’s utterly impossible for me to build my life on a foundation of chaos, suffering and death.

I see the world being slowly transformed into a wilderness, I hear the approaching thunder

that, one day, will destroy us too, I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at

the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change for the better, that this cruelty too will

end, that peace and tranquility will return once more. In the meantime, I must hold on to my

ideals. Perhaps the day will come when I’ll be able to realize them!

Anne Frank, “The Diary of a Young Girl: The Definitive Edition”, Bantam Edition, 1997