Auschwitz – Mr G's Ponderings

Photo: Holocaust Memorial Trust

Yesterday, January 27^th, was Hololocaust Memorial Day (HMD).
This year it took the theme of, ‘Light the Darkness against prejudice and hatred’.

On the morning of Holocaust Memorial Day, 27 January, Dame Joanna Lumley handed out commemorative HMD candles to commuters and passers-by in Central London. She was joined by Joan Salter MBE, a child survivor of the Holocaust, and Martin Stern MBE, a survivor of the Holocaust, and Antoinette Mutabazi, a survivor of the genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda.
Dame Joanna invited people to light the candles and place them safely at 4pm that day for the Light the Darkness national moment.
Dame Joanna commented:

It is a real privilege to be able to mark Holocaust Memorial Day by being here in central London with survivors of genocide. I hope that by handing out these candles and inviting people to light them at 4pm this evening, we can provide people with an opportunity to remember those who were murdered for being who they were, and to reflect on ways that they can challenge hatred and prejudice today.

At 4pm on 27 January, people across the UK took part in the Light the Darkness national moment, lighting candles in their windows to remember those who were murdered for who they were and to stand against prejudice and hatred today. Social media was flooded with photos of candles as people joined the online conversation about Light the Darkness.

Whether a myth or a truth, it is said that because of the Holocaust, birds do not fly over Auschwitz and other death camps. I wrote the poem below inspired by this as a tribute to the thousands of victims of the so-called Final Solution and out of respect for the victims of ‘prejudice and hatred’ from the Jewish people, Gay and Romany people.

Birds of Auschwitz

This is a place where the voice of song is silent.
A place for remembrance,
reflection;
and numbness of feeling.
To feel would be to break apart.
The ground, though watered with myriad tears,
is cracked open and dry.

Some say that the birds don’t sing here.
How can we?
How can we sing joyfully,
melodiously,
in this place of deep terror and pain,
of total hatred and barbaric torture?

Long ago, in those satanic days,
we took council together;
high in the trees where the acrid smoke
spewing from chimneys did not choke our lungs
and the roasting stench of death could not singe our feathers.
Hidden deep in the branches and leaves,
our eyes could no longer see
the piles of discarded humanity tossed aside.
The birds of prey were not our species,
but belonged to man.

We decided then
that here and in places like this,
our voices would be still.
Forever.

Our gift to those who had themselves been silenced.
Our memorial.
Our act of remembrance.

Remembering Maximilian Kolbe (whose feast day is 14^th August), and his sacrifice, took my thoughts towards Auschwitz where he died.

Few could fail to be moved by much that happened there and it is important for us to keep remembering the people who died or whose survival was perilous. Auschwitz, has come to symbolise the totality of evil and, for the human race, its lowest ebb. I remember Tony Blair once reminding us that it was not just human life that was destroyed but ‘human essence’. It showed us the depths to which humanity can sink.

In our blame culture it is easy to lay all the blame on those who perpetrated the evil—not only the Nazi hierarchy but the ordinary Germans who carried out the orders. They may well be blameworthy but recrimination has a habit of rebounding.

The Jews we mourn, as a race suffered for centuries the guilt and blame laid on them by the Christian Church for the death of Christ. ‘Collective guilt’ has been visited on many nations in the world’s history. The trouble is that it is always safe to blame others. It places the spotlight on a more comfortable place. But sometimes we need to look nearer to home. Prejudice and hatred, fear of the different, the loss of respect and tolerance: these are the seeds of Auschwitz. These are what destroy the human essence and they are, sadly, present in many people, if not all.

Jonathan Sacks, former Chief Rabbi, suggested that those who suffered in the death camps bore no hate or desire for revenge. We are challenged to take heed of the lessons Auschwitz and the suffering there includes forgiveness – maybe even for ourselves. This is powerfully brought home in a prayer found on a piece of wrapping paper when Ravensbrück Concentration Camp was liberated:

O Lord, remember not only the men and women of good will
but also those of ill-will.
But do not remember all the suffering they have inflicted on us:
remember the fruits we bought, thanks to this suffering;
our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility,
the courage, the generosity,
the greatness of heart which has grown out of this,
and when they come to judgement,
let all the fruits that we have borne be their forgiveness.

As Jonathan Sacks says: ‘May these words light a flame in our hearts so that never again shall the cry of the afflicted go unheard’.