With the commemoration of 75 years after the liberation of Auschwitz just behind us, it’s becoming clear that there is a revisionist trend sweeping Europe.

The arc of post-World War Two history, however sluggish and bumpy, has generally bent in the direction of acknowledging responsibility. While tensions persist in many regions still today, European states have progressively come forward professing their role in the Holocaust and have taken steps, big and small, towards restitution and reconciliation. It’s futile to try to evaluate the degree of genuine remorse versus the pressure exercised by international standards or by public opinion in a changing national landscape; regardless, by and large, states have moved towards assuming their roles as collaborators or enablers of the Nazis.

But with a short historical memory and political sensibilities at play, recent years have brought to light just how fragile this path towards a universally accepted single, factual narrative is.

A Look to the National Level

You will remember the uproar caused in 2018 by a Polish law: a law seemingly excepting Poland from its historical responsibility, and that initially criminalized such expressions as “Polish death camps” or “Polish concentration camps.” While indeed these specific formulations are inaccurate, the anti-Semitism endemic to pre-war, wartime and post-war Poland is a reality. Many Polish collaborators outed, extorted and rounded up Jews for the Nazis. This is a reality that Poland tried to shield itself from and in so doing created an international fiasco.

But the Polish case is by no means singular: The preamble of the Hungarian Basic Law of 2011 states: “We date the restoration of our country’s self-determination, lost on the nineteenth day of March 1944 (note; the day of the Nazi occupation of Hungary), from the second day of May 1990, when the first freely elected body of popular representation was formed”. The Hungarian constitution does not directly deny the Holocaust, but the culpability of the Hungarian state for the organised murder of about 600,000 Hungarian Jews, and in so doing has contributed to such negative consequences as the glorification of Nazi collaborators, the rewriting of curricula and the creation of a controversial ‘House of Fates’ museum.

Recent proposed legislation in Lithuania has also caused outrage.  A bill drafted in the Seimas, the country’s Parliament, is titled, “The Lithuanian state, which was occupied in 1940-1990, did not participate in the Holocaust,”. Although Lithuania was occupied at the time, several Lithuanian leaders did collaborate with the Nazis. About 70,000 Jews were killed in Ponary forest during the Holocaust by German SS and Lithuanian collaborators. More than 90 percent of the 200,000 Lithuanian Jews were murdered. 
 
On an International Level: Minimization, Instrumentalization

The developments above, taking place at the national level are certainly distressing. What we’ve also seen, however, is the muddying of the waters on an international stage.

Unlike the national level where the actors involved usually come to the table with a nationalist agenda, we are seeing a frivolous depiction of the past on the international level, weaponized to deal with current political clashes – especially in response to Russia flexing its muscles globally and in Eastern Europe in particular.

In September 2019, the European Parliament debated a motion on the importance of European remembrance for the future of Europe focused on condemning the totalitarian regimes haunting 20th century Europe: Nazism and Stalinism. While the motion is not factually problematic, the tone clearly departs from the preservation of the singularity of the Holocaust. For instance, the motion “calls for a common culture of remembrance that rejects the crimes of fascist, Stalinist, and other totalitarian and authoritarian regimes of the past as a way of fostering resilience against modern threats to democracy” and stresses the importance of “recognising and raising awareness of the shared European legacy of crimes committed by Stalinist, Nazi and other dictatorships.” With these formulations and more, the Parliament is conflating the Holocaust with other 20th century tragedies and thereby depriving the Holocaust of the special focus it warrants.
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A perfect example of the difficulties at hand: while intending to emphasize the importance of remembrance, and to protect against revisionist trends today, the European Union falls into its own trap. As we look to the European Union to be one of the main checks in place to guarantee the preservation of the historical record, we must remind policymakers that guarding the memory of the Shoah, and avoiding its instrumentalization at all costs is crucial and foundational to the very essence of the European project. 
 

My earliest recollection of hearing about the Holocaust came in the mid-1950s, as our family sat around the Passover Seder table. My parents had invited my mother’s best friend to join us that evening, and I remember listening intently to the discussion about families lost and the devastation wrought by Nazi rule throughout Europe.

That mental image reappeared when I read that Amazon UK had taken down a promotion by the company Harma Art for the sale of T-shirts and hoodies bearing a silkscreened reproduction of “The Last Jew in Vinnitsa,” one of the most widely circulated photos of Nazi brutality.

A lone Jewish victim sits on the edge of a ravine with his face to the camera, as a member of a Nazi Einsatzgruppe (the SS paramilitary death squad) is about to shoot him in the back of the head. Fourteen other Einsatzgruppen troops stand behind the one with the pistol, about to witness just one more brutal killing in a day that must have taken hundreds, if not thousands of innocent victims.

That photo always gets to me. It personalizes the 6 million Jews murdered in the Holocaust to one terrified victim. For a brief moment, you can try to imagine the fear that each individual experienced just before death.

What did Harma Art intend when it had those T-shirts and hoodies manufactured? Was it looking to market that apparel to Neo-Nazis and anti-Semitic far-right operatives who might don the shirts at rallies and demonstrations?

It’s not readily apparent. The blurb that accompanied photos of the merchandise promoted it this way: “Choose from our great collection of authentic designs and stand out from the crowd!”

Shock value! Be the first in your neighborhood to wear a hoodie with a photo of a Jew about to be shot!

The ease with which this marketing pitch was made tells us volumes about the global trivialization and desecration of the Holocaust, even while there are still survivors with tattoos on their arms who witnessed the worst moral depravity in history.

We saw an early indication of what was to come in 1965, with the airing of the comedy series “Hogan’s Heroes” on CBS, with its bumbling Nazi characters. Later, in 1995, “Seinfeld” undermined the depravity of Nazis by introducing a mean shop proprietor, labeling him “the Soup Nazi.”

In the nearly 25 years since, we’ve seen dozens of examples of Holocaust-related terms, or the word “genocide” being applied to situations that are neither appropriate nor analogous.

Israel often is the target of such intentionally misplaced opprobrium. Its defensive barrier is compared to being akin to the Warsaw ghetto.

Editorial cartoonists have been engaged in this for some time, with depictions of Israeli soldiers as Nazis. One that I particularly recall was in the Danish newspaper Politiken. In a play on another famous photo from the Holocaust, in which Nazi soldiers, with guns pointed, are rounding up Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto, and a young boy has his hands up, this cartoon substitutes Palestinians for Jews, and Israeli soldiers for Nazis.

And then there was the homework assignment in Oswego County, New York, that asked students to make arguments for or against the “Final Solution.”

Even members of Congress are not immune to the spread of this kind of trivialization. In the debate over health care reform, members from both parties traded barbs that contained Holocaust-era imagery, including references to Nazi propaganda chief Joseph Goebbels, “the big lie,” and appeasement (as in the Munich Pact, which preceded the outbreak of war in Europe).

Comparisons of undocumented immigrant detention centers to Nazi concentration camps is the most recent example. Pro-BDS (Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions) legislation introduced in Congress only weeks ago alluded to the need for imposing an economic boycott of Israel, just as we had done with Nazi Germany (and the Soviet Union and South Africa).

Notwithstanding efforts in many places to institute Holocaust education programs, the passage of time has presented Jewish educators and organizations with a tremendous challenge.

A poll commissioned by the Conference on Material Claims Against Germany (known as the Claims Conference) found that among American millennials, “22 percent have not heard of or are not sure if they have heard of the Holocaust.” Further, 41 percent in the poll “believe that 2 million Jews or less were killed in the Holocaust.” And 49 percent could not name one concentration camp or ghetto. An astounding 66 percent were not able to identify the Auschwitz concentration camp.

Research in Canada, Austria and Germany revealed somewhat similar findings. Millennials in the latter two countries felt overwhelmingly that Holocaust education was important (many had participated in such programs); yet in Austria, 17 percent of those polled believed that only “100,000 or fewer Jews were murdered” in the Holocaust.

And that brings us back to the Internet offering for clothing adorned with the searing photo from Vinnitsa. The passage of time, 24/7 coverage of civil wars, executions and a daily plethora of amateur videos of shootouts and shoot-ups that come to us as “Breaking News” have dulled the senses to genocides and violence of historic proportions.

And though there are dueling arguments about the effect of video games, can one really doubt that such fare at least makes young people inured to violence, past or present?

Four decades ago, when I began my career in community relations, I used to have a line in my speeches that said: “There’ll come a time when the last survivor, who was there and could tell us about what he or she experienced, will be gone. And then there will be no one here to answer, with first-person authority, the Holocaust minimizers and deniers.”

We’re close to that point. We need to redouble our efforts, at every level, to educate and remember. Media outlets cannot be flippant or careless when these images and comparisons are aired.

The mega-Internet community, already under fire for allowing “anything goes” content policies to prevail over common sense and good taste, needs to be far more vigilant than it claims it is. And officeholders, at every level, need to dial back completely the kind of harmful hyperbole which often gets a pass for being just good old political rhetoric.
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The slippery slope of Holocaust trivialization is upon us. We owe it to the victims, and ourselves, to ensure now that it be reversed.

Daniel S. Mariaschin is CEO of B'nai B'rith International.

Lists of names, sorted by country of origin. Columns that provide ages and places of birth and death.  Last names listed alphabetically, first names that you can find on a typical Hebrew school roster. Entire families follow, line by line. A grandparent, Mark, age 75; his child, Emanuel, age 40; and then the grandchild, Benjamin, age 7.  An entire family, murdered by the Nazis.

These names became a program with the goal of remembering the victims of the Holocaust by reading their names aloud and in public spaces.  This is the tribute to the six million Jews, one and a half million of them children, who were murdered. As the names of victims are read aloud, they are remembered.  For many on these lists, it is the only time their name will be said aloud, as their entire family was murdered or there is no one left to remember them.

The program was inspired by the poem “Unto Every Person There is a Name” by Zelda, which begins “Unto Every Person there is a Name bestowed upon him by God and given him by his father and mother”. The program is held each year on Yom Hashoah, which is observed on the 27th of Nissan. The date was chosen by the Israeli Knesset to serve as Holocaust Remembrance Day.  This year, the commemoration will be on May 2nd.

The program was created to remind us that the victims were not just a number. Every individual had a name. They loved, worked and enjoyed their lives until they were murdered by the Nazis.

How do we remember each year? How do you bring more information to the participants who are part of the remembrance ceremonies? As survivors are passing away, the second and third generations of their descendants have committed themselves to bear witness. It is up to the Jewish community to support them in this task. B’nai B’rith became the North American coordinator of this program in 1989 and has brought the program to the community and campus for 30 years. Those who participate share stories of their experiences. Dignitaries and schoolchildren from public and parochial schools attend as readers.  Passersby stop to listen and then ask if they can read as well.  The readings take place in public places such as parks, in front of Holocaust monuments, the US Capitol (before 9/11), courthouse steps and shopping malls.  It has also been held in cooperation with community events with synagogues, JCCs and Holocaust museums. 

I remember when Congressman Jerome Nadler came to the District One ceremony in New York City in 1994. The program chair that year, Charles Friedman, president of the Leo Baeck Unit, shared a story about his family’s experiences during Kristallnacht. At another ceremony, B’nai B’rith leader Margarete Goldberger, who was saved as a child by the Kindertransport, was randomly given a list to read that included the name of a school friend in Germany who had not been able to flee the country in time. There are many memories that span the program’s 30-year history.  Please share your own experiences at a program with us so that we can include these personal stories in our commemorations.

Names are also read on campus in conjunction with our partner, the Alpha Epsilon Pi Fraternity. This year, over 130 campus programs were scheduled on campuses as part of their “We Walk to Remember” program. The brothers of AEPi wore stickers that said “Never Forget” and passed out information about the Holocaust as they walked silently through their campus. They proudly recognize their duty to be part of the remembrance, and we are grateful for their commitment to make this a part of their campus activity. 

An international committee convened in Israel develops a theme and includes readings that relate to the topic.  Alan Schneider, director of the B’nai B’rith World Center-Jerusalem, represents B’nai B’rith on this committee. The program is also under the auspices of the of President of Israel Reuven Rivlin, who sends a message of thanks to the communities that take on this important activity. This year, the theme is “The War Within the War:  The Struggle of the Jews to Survive during the Holocaust”. 

The names are available via a database.  In many communities, the printed pages become part of an “Unto Every Person There is a Name” binder and are saved from year to year, as the lists take on a special significance to those who gather to remember them.  Treated as a sacred object, the pages are brought out for special commemorations.

There is an ongoing project to collect as many names as can be found as part of the “Pages of Testimony Project”.  In accordance with the Yad Vashem Law passed by the Israeli Knesset in 1953, Yad Vashem established a Hall of Names and maintains a database of information about victims of the Holocaust.  To date, there have been 4.8 million names of Shoah victims documented in the Central Database of Shoah Victims.
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B’nai B’rith International is grateful to Kurt and Tessye Simon (of blessed memory) for their support of the Unto programming. You can find information about the Unto Every Person There is a Name program at this link: http://www.bnaibrith.org/unto-every-person.html. 

​I am German, I am Jewish, my Grandmother is a Schindler survivor.
 
Her fate living through the Holocaust has led me to my academic and professional career and is the driving motivation behind my work combating anti-Semitism and advocating for Holocaust remembrance in Europe as director of EU Affairs for B’nai B’rith International.
 
Jewish life has re-established itself among German society, but so has anti-Semitism, leaving German Jews more vulnerable and disillusioned than at any point since the Holocaust.
 
We should be proud and thankful about, as German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier rightfully called it the “undeserved present of having Jewish communities and culture among its midst despite the unbearable past.” But we should also feel ashamed about the undeniable fact that our society is unable to provide emotional and physical safety for its own Jewish citizens, about the despicable necessity for 24/7 police protection of Jewish kindergartens, schools and synagogues in Germany.
 
This has to be assessed as a devastating failure in the context of Germany’s historic responsibility of preventing anti-Semitism from ever spreading again.
 
Wehret den Anfängen - resist the beginnings, because “Never Again” means to prevent repeating our mistakes of the past. Not comprehending and implementing the actual message has turned the very essence of what Holocaust commemoration comprises to an emotive overused term with the rise of anti-Semitism as a direct consequence.
 
A commemorative culture is obsolete without raising sensitivity toward the actual symptoms that led to it in the first place and that needs to be used to establish guidelines to shape our future:
 
First we have to lay to rest the belief that this could never happen again, and accept the shameful reality that hate, discrimination and anti-Semitism once again has snuck its way into mainstream society, even into politics.
 
Udo Voigt, member of the neo-Nazi party NPD won a seat in 2014 and is currently representing Germany in the European Parliament, and the recent national elections saw the far-right Alternative for Germany, AfD win 92 seats to become the third largest political group in the Bundestag.
 
Along with it goes what already is happening in other European countries, pushed by their right-wing populist governments and parties: A re-narration of history through increasing denial of the past and connection to the crimes committed during the Holocaust.
 
In Hungary statues of Nazi collaborators are erected, Poland is adopting laws that criminalize any mentioning of Polish complicity to the Nazi genocide and now the last taboo of German society has been broken by members of the AfD.
 
At the forefront is the prominent AfD member Björn Höcke, who infamously called the Holocaust memorial in Berlin, that pays tribute to the 6 million murdered Jews in Europe, a “memorial of shame.” Or party leader Alexander Gauland, who proclaimed that Germans should “be proud of what {their} soldiers achieved in two world wars.” German police recorded 1,453 anti-Semitic incidents in 2017, among them 32 violent disorders and 160 malicious damages.
 
An overwhelming 90 percent are still registered as far-right motivated, only 25 incidents are considered religiously motivated anti-Semitism mostly from Muslim extremists and one single incident is believed to be left-wing motivated.
 
It is crucial to note that the dark figures (estimated numbers of unknown cases) are likely much higher, due to lack of reporting and comprehensive surveys but especially, because the escalation of anti-Semitically motivated incidents is so often wrongly labeled or not even registered as such at all.
 
In every case lacking a caught perpetrator, anti-Semitic incidences are automatically registered as right wing motivated. The figures therefore fail to recognize far-left anti-Semitism in all its forms but also the often violent escalation of imported Islamic anti-Semitism that is acted out completely detached from the Holocaust, and without any reference to Germany’s historic guilt or its special connection to the Jewish state of Israel and its security as a raison d'état  
 
Mainstream society, the judicial system, politicians and police often lack the sheer understanding of and education about anti-Semitism and its mutations.
 
Blatantly obvious anti-Semitic incidents such as the arson attack on the Wuppertal Synagogue in 2014 are not even recognized as such and consequently don’t end up in these official statistics, therefore leaving the Jewish community traumatized and in shock twice. First through the attack itself and inability of German authorities to neither prevent nor protect, and then again through the incomprehensible inability of a judge to connect the painfully obvious dots.
 
Equating the policies of the Israeli government with German Jews, holding them responsible for a conflict thousands of miles away and consequently attacking a Jewish community in Germany by throwing a firebomb on a synagogue, equals anti-Semitism in its purest form. There must not be any discussion or room for interpretation.
 
Because of instances such as the Wuppertal Synagogue arson attack, organizations combating anti-Semitism don’t have the luxury of raising awareness once a year; we have to deal with the hostile reality and its impact on Jewish communities every day.
 
I believe it is crucial to understand and acknowledge that anti-Semitism is not an extremist ideology, but a worrisome mainstream phenomenon that can be found in the midst of German society among all demographics and ages, in class rooms, rap music, football stadiums, among academics, media and online social networks.
 
The younger generation shall not feel ashamed or personally responsible for what happened. But it has an undeniable responsibility that grows out of Germany’s historical burden and does not vanish over time. And that is the obligation to protect and cherish Jewish life and culture in German society and not only combat, but eradicate any anti-Semitic tendencies.
                                                                                    
I believe that the underlying issue with German Holocaust commemoration lies in its discrepancy between the mutual omnipresent condemnation of the Holocaust and lack of actually addressing the cause of hate and evil in any way.
 
This discrepancy then serves as the breeding ground for a dichotomy in German society – that ubiquitous historic responsibility and guilt is able to exist in parallel to rising anti-Semitism.
 
Holocaust commemoration needs to serve as the foundation on which to build strategies to combat the virus.
 
If this foundation is an empty shell, motivated by guilt and forced societal obligation rather then individual willingness to ask the crucial questions of how and why, and consequently draw the painful lessons by learning from the past, the commemoration day becomes meaningless; and so is any politician’s repetitive reminder of “Never Again,” their many references to the historic responsibility and the emphasis on this apparent Judeo-Christian heritage.
 
But besides the moral impediment that grows out of Germany’s historic responsibility, it should be in everyone’s self interest to address anti-Semitism.
 
Such discrimination does not stop with the Jews – it corrupts and corrodes the very core of our democratic society as a whole.  Eradicating anti-Semitism should be an imperative in the name of modern civilized society.
 
One should not speak out against anti-Semitism because of a moral obligation to be a philo-Semite or friend of Israel, but for the simple reason alone that a fellow citizen and human being is harassed or attacked.
 
Jewish rights are human rights, and hate against Jews is hate against humanity.
 
This might sound overly simplistic, emotive and obvious, but is nevertheless not being implemented in our approach to tackling the issue, or in developing strategies to combat it.
 
Instead ant-Semitism has become so powerful that it outgrew the Jews and can function even without a single Jew actually being present.
 
Commemoration of the Holocaust needs to serve as a guideline and toolkit that works not only in the context of historic guilt. Remembrance, based on guilt alone, can become overwhelming and might even backfire to the extent of paralyzing individuals, national identity and society as a whole.  
 
Nazi Germany did not invent anti-Semitism, but it did invent the Final Solution, that culminated in the industrial murdering of 6 million Jews.
 
It is essential to focus on underlying structures, the root causes of the Holocaust and analyze accountability for the horrors of the past, while directly addressing current anti-Semitic sentiments in all layers of society and politics. This needs to happen in close cooperation with Jewish communities themselves but also by building coalitions between special coordinators inside government institutions, civil society and other minority groups that are discriminated against.
 
“We do not want to preserve our dismay, but draw lessons, that can provide guidance also for future generations,” then German President Roman Herzog urged while establishing the official commemoration day in 1996.
 
Holocaust remembrance is a responsibility and obligation of German society as a whole.  But so is the engagement in combating anti-Semitism, as emphasized by the German government’s recent anti-Semitism resolution that was adopted with large majority. The resolution reads in part:
 
“The German Bundestag is grateful, that Jewish life and culture exists after the national-socialist dictatorship and despite the Holocaust. Its existence is an enrichment to our society and, in light of our history, a special declaration of trust toward our democracy and state of law, that we want to live up to and have to be committed to forever.”
 
We must not destroy this trust, and cannot leave German Jewry alone in combating the re-emergence of mainstream anti-Semitism. We should protect and cherish Jewish life in Germany with everything we have, not only due to the moral obligation based on Holocaust commemoration or guilt, but because it elevates our democratic society, our dignity, common values and human rights as a whole.

​​Benjamin Nägele was named director of E.U. affairs for B’nai B’rith International in 2015. In this capacity he focuses on promoting EU-Israel relations and advocates for Jewish causes at the European institutions in Brussels. He previously worked as an EU affairs officer for B’nai B’rith International and as a policy advisor at the European Parliament. Click here to read more of his work.

​A controversial Polish law signed into effect by President Adrzej Duda has stoked tensions on both sides of the Polish-Jewish relationship.
 
At stake is the examination of the country’s World War II-era past, a period during which both Poles and Jews suffered tremendous losses.  As the first country invaded by Hitler’s Germany, Poland can lay claim to being the Nazis’ first victims. It was also home to more than three million Jews, the vast majority of whom perished during the Holocaust. Nearly two million non-Jewish Poles were also murdered.
 
The new law, which amends the existing Act on the Institute of National Remembrance, would severely punish false accusations against the “Polish nation” or “Polish state” of responsibility for the Holocaust. So, for example, anyone who describes Auschwitz as a “Polish death camp” rather than a “Nazi death camp” on Polish soil, could face up to three years in prison.
 
One problem, of course, is how does one define the Polish nation? There can be no dispute that the Nazis initiated and implemented a campaign of genocide against the Jews.  But it is also clear that, while the Nazis murdered both Jews and Poles, some Poles participated in crimes against Jews.  In fact, Polish-born historian Jan Grabowski estimates that more than 200,000 Jews were murdered by Poles during the war – Poles who did not by themselves constitute the Polish collective, but who certainly were members of the Polish nation.
 
The law purports to exempt historians and artists from punishment, but what about journalists, educators and others?  Furthermore, how can one know how aggressively prosecutors will use the law to threaten or intimidate voices they might aim to silence? Princeton Professor Jan Gross’ 2001 history of the Polish massacre of Jews in Jedwabne in 1941 met with great resistance from a Polish public reluctant to accept the participation of some Poles in the murder of Jews.
 
The backdrop to this debate is the recent evidence that the anti-Semitism that has haunted Polish society since before the Holocaust persists until this day.  In November, about 60,000 attended a rally in Warsaw that was replete with anti-Semitic chants, such as “Jews out of Poland” and banners such as “White Europe of brotherly nations.” The xenophobia and anti-Semitism on display that day are not new phenomena in Poland, a country that witnessed beatings of Jews in the streets before World War II and anti-Jewish pogroms after the war’s end.
 
The ruling Law and Justice party has provided at least tacit support for the neo-fascists of today, who carry the torch of these ancient hatreds. The passage of this law is such a form of encouragement – a sop to the party’s nationalist base. Whether it was the government’s intent, the law fosters the impression of a desire to cast Poles as blameless victims, which is a popular narrative in Poland.
 
What is missing both from the law itself and from the government’s unapologetic defense of the new measure is what is most needed – an honest and open discussion of Poland’s wartime history. A comprehensive, nuanced discourse on the most complex aspects of Poland’s past by the current president or prime minister could go a long way toward easing strains and straightening the historical record.
 
It is true that Poles were victims of the Nazis. And it is true that some Poles saved Jews or otherwise resisted the Nazis. But it is also true that some Poles shared responsibility for certain Nazi crimes, or committed crimes against Jews in their own right. Let the education and inquiry about the full history of this period proceed. This ill-conceived and inflammatory law is not a path forward to reconciliation.

​Eric Fusfield, Esq. has been B’nai B’rith International’s director of legislative affairs since 2003 and deputy director of the B’nai B’rith International Center for Human Rights and Public Policy since 2007. He holds a B.A. from Columbia University in history; an M.St. in modern Jewish studies from Oxford University; and a J.D./M.A. from American University in law and international affairs. Click here to read more from Eric Fusfield.

Nearly 15 years ago, the World Center proposed a resolution to the 2003 B’nai B’rith International Board of Governors meeting that convened in Baltimore calling on the organization to honor Jewish Holocaust rescuers. The resolution that past read “BE IT RESOLVED THAT B’nai B’rith International authorizes the B’nai B’rith World Center to engage in identifying and honoring Jews who performed extraordinary actions to save other Jews during the Holocaust, and asks that they further define the scope of any involvement and activity by B’nai B’rith International.”

Over the years since that resolution, the search for Jewish Holocaust-era rescuers has become a major area of activity for the World Center and a personal passion.

In order to properly honor those heroes, the World Center and the Committee to Recognize the Heroism of Jewish Rescuers During the Holocaust—of which the World Center is a founding member—launched their joint “Jewish Rescuers Citation,” through which some 170 Jewish heroes have been recognized for their courageous actions rescuing Jews across Europe during the Holocaust.

One of the modus operandi of the citation is that it must be presented to the rescuer him or herself or, in the case that the rescuer is no longer alive, to a relative.

Sometimes, this condition is difficult to meet, particularly in the case of some of the more obscure rescue efforts.

One such effort is the case of Dr. Asaf Atchildi, a medical doctor born into the Jadir community of Samarkand—a religious community of Jewish origin, originally forced into accepting the Muslim faith for the sake of appearance. Atchildi found himself in Paris during the German occupation, attending to the Juguts—Jews of Bukharian origin in France. With the assistance of Georgian expatriate politicians living in France, an Iranian diplomat and other players, Dr. Atchildi succeeded in building a web of contacts and relationships among the German and French bureaucracy that ensured the survival of the Jugut community and other non-Jugut Jews who were surreptitiously added to the list of Juguts. Atchildi, who, at his wife’s urging never registered as being Jewish, was in constant danger of being found out and deported.

Our committee had no doubt that the now deceased doctor deserved the Jewish Rescuers Citation but we were unable to find a relative to receive it. We knew from testimony he gave to Yad Vashem that while in Paris he had two daughters. We could not find either in Israel or in Paris. I then resorted to the radio program “Search Bureau for Missing Relatives,” anchored by Izzy Mann, a B’nai B’rith World Center Journalism Award winner, who immediately promised to broadcast Atchildi’s fascinating story to garner information from the public at large and also to set loose his bevy of volunteer researchers to find Atchildi or his close kin. Izzy was able to find some significant leads to distant relatives in Israel and within three weeks these led to a breakthrough: we found Dr. Atchildi’s one surviving daughter, Dora Aftergood (90), at the Jewish age home in Vancouver and her son David in Calgary. B’nai B’rith Canada has agreed to stage a major event to present the citation posthumously to Dr. Atchild—closing the circle opened 70 years earlier when he ensured the survival of over 300 Bukharian and other Jews in occupied France.
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The World Center remains committed to this important project that helps discredit the mistaken notion that Jews did nothing to rescue fellow Jews during the Holocaust and that the notion of Jewish solidarity was nowhere to be found during those terrible times.

Another 8,000 young German Jewish men released from Nazi imprisonment—many ransomed using his own fortune—were rescued through a scheme he proposed to establish internment camps in Britain. Israel died on June 1, 1941 along with actor and British intelligence office Leslie Howard when their plane was brought down in the Bay of Biscay by the Luftwaffe on a flight from Lisbon, Portugal. At that time Israel was busy planning the rescue of children from Nazi-occupied Europe to pre-state Israel for the Jewish Agency. He is credited with saving 50,000 Jewish lives. Each rescue story—like these two examples—is a narrative of heroism and selfless dedication to fellow Jews.

Through the efforts of the World Center and the Committee, key institutions and leading figures have become aware of the phenomenon of Jewish rescue. Writing to me and to Roet last month, Israel Defense Forces (IDF) Chief of Staff Gadi Eizenkot noted that “our letter to him (about rescue by Jews in the Holocaust) brought home the importance of memorializing the Jews who endangered their lives to rescue the lives of their brethren during the Holocaust. As a result of this I found it appropriate to note these heroic rescue activities in my comments at a symposium of the General Staff at Yad Vashem prior to Holocaust Martyrs and Heroes Remembrance Day. We must remember and not forget the bravery that was shown alongside the pain. The principals of courage and camaraderie upon which the Jewish people acted in order to rescue their brethren, accompanies us—the commanders of the IDF and its soldiers…”