In response to the gentiles posting about the humanity of Hitler and the Nazis on Yom Hashoah

[attackfish]

If we’re going to be humanizing Hitler and the Nazis, okay, let’s do that. Let’s talk about how they had friends, and families, and flirted, and didn’t stop doing all the things humans do just because they started becoming monsters. Okay, that’s nice. Let’s talk about how when it was all over, they managed to put all that death and murder, and hate, and cruelty back in a box and keep doing all those nice human things. Let’s talk about how many of them were nice to their kids and loved their families. Let’s talk about how entire nations grew up telling themselves: “not my parents. Yes my dad was a member of the party, but he didn’t know. My mom worked for a company that used slave labor, but she didn’t know. Not my aunt, not my uncle, not the people who I love and love me. They didn’t know.” Let’s talk about how “no one” knew. Let’s talk about how that is absolute bullshit. Let’s talk about the lies that people have been telling themselves for thousands of years, that they are still telling themselves, that made this possible, about the greedy parasitic Jew, and the thieving, cheating dirty G*psy. Let’s talk about how at the start of WWII, more Americans were worried about how much power Jews had than how much power Hitler had, while Jews didn’t even have the power to keep themselves alive. Let’s talk about how antisemitism and anti-Romani racism are alive and well in Europe and the Americas today. Let’s talk about how maybe, just maybe you should look at your mother’s favorite great uncle, and your grandmother who made you cookies, and your friends’ grandparents and the way they look so human, and ask yourself: “Did they really not know?”

And maybe then we can talk about all those dead human beings they “didn’t know” about.

 

Comments

[attackfish]

Many Germans, and non-Germans for that matter, were active participants, as you said, but many more just turned their backs, and they were just as necessary as the ones who actively committed the crimes. And it's so much easier to just turn your back than it is to participate or to fight. Every Jewish kid grows up playing a mental game, looking around at their friends and schoolmates and thinking "Who would hide me? Would someone hide me?" meaning of course, who would really risk their lives to protect ours. I grew up playing this game, but I also grew up playing the "If you had seen me in third and fourth grade, or middle school, when it was really bad, would you have stood up for me?" game. About three years ago, I tried to explain to my therapist that it wasn't enough for me that most people I talked to wouldn't hurt me, if most people I talked to would let me be hurt, and I still feel like taking everybody and making them see that they can't let other people be hurt any more than they can hurt other people.

Maybe it's because I was so badly bullied, and spent so much time alone and afraid, and my illness brought me close to death pretty regularly, maybe it's because I never had the illusion of safety, but even before my mom converted and we found out about the family history, I always found it much much easier to empathize with the victims. Perhaps easy is the wrong word. It hurts, and it feels awful, but I can't help it. When I hear those stories, and read accounts of what happened, even when I just read names in a database, that feeling of pain, that wish that someone, something could have stopped it, and that knowledge that they must have been so scared, and so desperate, for themselves, for their families is almost overwhelming. The people who lived though it talk about existing for years on despair and panic. Whenever I think about the Holocaust or Nazism even casually, I feel a tiny echo of that, whether I want to or not, and everything in me wants to find a way to make everything better, even though it's impossible. I mean, I can empathize with the Nazis, but it's harder and I have to actually try. Empathizing with the victims just happens. There are times when I think about the magnitude of who was lost, what was destroyed, and I just feel so sick with it that I don't know what to do. I don't know how people turn that off.