For almost 80 years, survivors of the Holocaust have brought us their stories, hoping that their voices of truth could lead to a more tolerant future. The surging antisemitism of this moment reveals a growing stain of modern hate, with fewer survivors left to cry out against it. But we can.
I co-founded an organization that gives voice to stories from the Holocaust, honoring those who perished and those who survived. I am heartsick that these stories have so much disturbing relevance today.
This is a time of antisemitism unleashed and spreading across the globe. Antisemitism casually voiced by some, poisonously and pointedly by others. Words can and do breed actions: What begins as bullying and insults can end in physical attacks or worse.
Antisemitic incidents have risen dramatically in the last several years and in the United States are at their highest level in four decades. As the survivors taught us, we must learn from the past and redouble our efforts to combat the toxic stew of bigotry and scapegoating.
In 1938, antisemitic words grew into the pogrom known as Kristallnacht, a rampage directed at Jewish homes, synagogues and businesses. Kristallnacht was an early act of Nazi violence against the Jewish community that presaged coming atrocities.
The following morning, a young Jewish German girl named Margot Gunther (later Jeremias) rode the train to school, as she did every morning. For her whole, long life, Margot remembered the terror she felt hearing young boys on the train, her peers, laughing about their participation in those attacks.
The United States has been a haven for Holocaust survivors such as Margot. With the passing decades, though, few Holocaust survivors are left to share these stories. Simultaneously, and I don’t believe coincidentally, knowledge of the Holocaust is declining while antisemitism is rising.
I am appalled that there are elected officials and former officials who tolerate, and even encourage, purveyors of the vilest tropes and lies. I am heartened that the Biden administration is gathering leaders together to combat this threat, and I am eager to see more such efforts from other representatives on the national and local levels.
But solutions must come from all of us. To counter the threat of rising antisemitism and prejudice, we need to find the intersection of education, understanding and tolerance. Telling true stories of difficult histories is a path to understanding and empathy that can make a real difference. I have seen the power of it.
Others and I now tell many stories of those who experienced the Holocaust, including Margot’s. The moving and visceral impact of such storytelling is distinct from merely describing abstractly what hate can do. We can all become custodians of Holocaust stories and through them of the Holocaust’s lessons.
After the Holocaust became widely known around the world, the phrase “Never again” was heard on the lips of people from all backgrounds. But “Never again” must apply long before we get to full-fledged genocide.
Even the Holocaust did not begin as full-fledged genocide. It began with hate-driven violence fueled by hateful words. Eventually, those words became a torrent, and it became life-threatening not only to be Jewish but to stand up against bigotry and genocide.
Recent antisemitic attacks across the U.S. are chilling reminders that even now hateful words can become hateful, murderous acts of violence.
However, many of these incidents are also examples of loving responses. In each case, the larger community came together to support the Jewish community in their midst. After the Tree of Life massacre in Pittsburgh in 2018, the interfaith community in Flower Mound, my Texas town far from Pittsburgh, came out in a show of support that still brings me to tears. They surrounded our synagogue not in threat but in protection.
In many Holocaust survivors’ stories, there is someone who helped, who stood up against bigotry and hate. When we hear these stories, we realize that by standing up, we can make a significant difference. History gives us cautionary tales and inspiring tales. Let us use both to find our way back from the dangerous precipice formed by rampant bigotry and scapegoating.
Deborah Fripp is the executive director and co-founder of Teach the Shoah: The Holocaust through Story, an international organization founded in Flower Mound. She is the author of five books including “Light from the Darkness: A ritual for Holocaust remembrance.” She wrote this column for The Dallas Morning News.
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Fighting antisemitism by giving voice to stories from the Holocaust
