What Holocaust?

According to a recent study conducted by Professor Sami Smooha, a well-known Israeli sociologist at Haifa University, "more than a quarter of Israel's Arab citizens believe the Holocaust never happened...28 percent of local Arabs did not believe the Holocaust happened, and among high school and college graduates the figure was even higher: 33 percent." (Haaretz, March 19, 2007)

Museums of tolerance can be erected around the world, books can be translated into Arabic and we can teach the Holocaust until the cows come home - in the eyes of many Arabs it's all propaganda, an international conspiracy to validate the the existance of Israel and justify the Palestinian Nakba (disaster of 1948). As long as our Arab neighbors are unwilling to learn and understand the implications of the Holocaust for the Jewish people they will remain incapable of comprehending the modern reality of the state of Israel. For those who wish to perpetuate the state of war in which we live it is preferable to treat the Holocaust as a cynical political tool brandished by the Jews at every opportunity. In this case Arab ignorance is bliss, because understanding the Jewish experience of the Holocaust makes the conflict much grayer. It's far easier to stick one's head into the sand and pretend it never happened.

Interestingly, teaching awareness of the Holocaust to Israel's Arabs has become the one-man crusade of Khaled Mahameed, a lawyer who lives in Nazareth. Educated at Hebrew University, he studied the Holocaust and later invested his own money to purchase a photographic exhibit from Yad Vashem and set up a museum on the first floor of his home. He has printed publications about the Holocaust in Arabic, offers stipends to Arab students who wish to study the subject and maintains a website in Arabic (www.alkaritha.org). This is what he said in an interview:

"Understanding this and the fact that personal security is perhaps the major concern of Jews in Israel and elsewhere, as a direct outcome of the Holocaust and the feelings of persecution, is extremely important.
"If we, as Arabs, can dissipate these concerns and show understanding over what happened it will help create the climate for real dialogue in which Israeli Jews and especially decision-makers will be able to have a greater understanding of the suffering of Arab citizens and the Palestinians.
"This, in turn, would hopefully lead towards a peaceful resolution of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and an end to discriminatory policies towards Arab citizens and the acceptance that they deserve equal rights."

If I recognize and address your deepest fears, you will reciprocate - that's what he's saying, in a nutshell. Arab and Jewish acceptance of each other's narratives may very well be the key to resolving the conflict. I believe we are mature enough and wise enough to be truthful about the less honorable aspects of the birth of the State of Israel. But who should go first?

Each of us contributes what we can. My husband Benny works for Israel Television. When he read the article about Smooha's research he decided immediately to translate a program he has on the Nieremberg trials slated for broadcast into Arabic - not subtitles, but a voice-over.

My college roomate Lauren was here this week for a conference of the Reform Movement. As the executive director of the reform synagogue in Munich, Germany, she is helping to rebuild a strong Jewish community there.

The next meeting of our women guides' association will take place of the eve of Holocaust Memorial day and we will be sharing ideas about guiding at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum. I'm going to share a story that I heard a few years ago from a Holocaust survivor. He said something like this:

"As a young boy of twelve or thirteen I found myself forced to board a very crowded train with my parents; people were packed in so tightly that we could barely breathe. Everyone was Jewish and although we had no idea where we were going, we knew it couldn't be good. There was a opening in the box car but it was too small for any of the adults to get through. I was the only one thin enough to climb out and my parents decided that I should jump from the train, come what may. When my father said goodbye to me he hugged me and kissed me, and the last thing he said to me was, "Son, be a mensch." I never saw my parents again."