Erika Larsson

Hope through disaster

Without historical memory, what would become of an individual, a people, a community?

Marcus Ehrenpreis ”Att minnas och att glömma” Judisk Tidskrift 1940[1]

Abstract: The paper deals with the impact of history on human life in general, with special focus on the perception of history by Jews during the Nazi holocaust.

Keywords: History; historical consciousness; totalitarian societies; fascism; Nazi; Holocaust

Anyone who devotes most part of her life to history, reading, writing, teaching and thinking about this subject is pleased to find that history also matters a great deal to others – even if it is another history for another purpose. I had not thought that much about the role history plays in other people’s lives until a couple of years ago, when I started to study Jewish identity and realised the impact of history there. And if you have once noticed the importance of history in one field, its power is suddenly apparent almost everywhere.

The dissertation I am working on as a Ph.D. student in history, is supposed to answer a question about the impact of history on human beings or, less pretentiously, to describe how history matters to us, how our views of past, present and future influence each other. What needs render some parts of history important, while others remain unnoticed? What does history do for us? My main interest is in the common, everyday, uses of history, not the conscious use you find, for example, in politics (although the division between the two may be vague), but history as an important part of our culture, identity and existential ideas.

The concept of historical consciousness is here understood as the process through which human beings, in their everyday life, combine past, present and future – or, in other words, their space of experience with their daily life and horizon of expectations. The three dimensions of time will influence each other, so our understanding of the past affects our expectations for the future, and the other way around. In the same way, our picture of the present is important for the way in which we perceive past and present, as well as for the way in which it is created by our ideas about history and future.[2]

Thinking about the past is an inevitable part of the human way of looking at life. No one can refrain from using history as a point of reference in life. Stories about history are necessary for our identity and sense of belonging. Thus everyone, regardless of his or her quality of knowledge about the Black Death or the fall of Masada, has a historical consciousness. It is of less importance if the events included in the space of experience are considered scientifically true or not. Historical consciousness can be built on novels or myths, as well as on historical narratives produced by scholars. The main issue is whether they are considered to be true in some sense.

This also implies that there is no such thing as a human being without a sense of history. In Sweden you commonly come across the expression “historielös” (“without history”), used to denote a person, probably a student, considered to lack sufficient historical knowledge – therefore also considered to be more susceptible to totalitarian ideologies and other unpleasant complaints. Of course there are people with inadequate knowledge about history, people who would probably find increased insights in history both pleasing and useful, but this does not mean that they lack a sense of history or a historical consciousness altogether.

My “dissertation to be” will not prevent misapplications of history. Even if such a thing were possible, I would no doubt refrain from doing so. I think that if history is to be valuable, it has to be used for something. Historical narratives endowed with an existential meaning have an important purpose to achieve, even if they are not compatible with what is considered absolute truth, something I hope to be able to show in the what follows.

That I am considering Jews is not due to any idea about Jews being more connected to the past, or especially apt be stuck in memories, or to an expectation of exquisite historical knowledge amongst that group. Jews are not, of course, even a uniform assembly, all sharing the same opinions. Thus I won’t be able to say anything about how the Jewish community at large. However, that does not bother me particularly, since my main intention is to show how history matters, through what I consider to be a well-chosen example. Jewish tradition has been devoted to preserving memory. God reveals himself to man through his appearance in history, and remembering the past thus is the only way to find out about God. There is a purpose, God’s purpose, with history, which is therefore meaningful. Many scholars studying Judaism have described the Jews as the “inventors” of meaning in history: ”As for the Jews, they invented history as an existential dimension of man in time.”[3] The Swedish chief-rabbi Marcus Ehrenpreis claimed in 1939 that “history /…/ [is] basically a religious concept, since it implies that there is a system in what is happening.”[4] Thus, I have reason to believe that one can find interesting reflections concerning history in the Jewish tradition.

Another reason for studying the Jewish group is that it is a minority which has preserved its identity for a very long time in spite of an otherwise far-reaching assimilation to the majority culture. The collective memory has probably played an important part for this identification. In an issue of the Swedish-Jewish monthly magazine Judisk Tidskrift from 1940, Marcus Ehrenpreis writes:

“Normal peoples, who live on their historical ground, carry this living memory of the past within, as well as looking at it; memorials, buildings, ancient sites, landscape, bear witness to the being of the nation, to its growth, victories and failures. Israel, who has been chosen to live scattered among other nations for thousands of years, has, more than these nations, been left to keeping the historical memory alive. No word is pronounced with more emphasis in our Sacred Scripture, than the word s a c h o r, remember. Our holidays, our ceremonies and symbols, as well as many of our prayers, are, to a lesser degree, religious or dogmatic in their purpose; they are primarily thought to be a kind of historical teaching, preserving the memory of the past, not allowing the connection with history to slacken.” [5]

In Sweden there are very few studies dealing with expressions of historical consciousness – although the concept often turns up in theoretical articles, curricula, and public debates. This is partially due to the fact that it is not quite easy to implement. Where do you trace the marks of historical consciousness in real life?

I have chosen to consider my dissertation also as an opportunity to find out which sources might be available for surveys of this kind. During the 20^th century, and this is the period I intend to study, there were several Jewish magazines, sermons and of course rituals, traditions and tales. Since the 1950s there has also been a Jewish school in Stockholm, and, in recent years, there have also appeared monuments and a Jewish museum. In this essay I will, however, mainly be concerned with the example of the magazine Judisk Tidskrift and its founder Marcus Ehrenpreis, during the 1930s and 1940s.

Judisk Tidskrift was published between 1928 and 1964, usually in monthly issues. Most of the time, and throughout all the years during the period I am concerned with here, Marcus Ehrenpreis was the chief editor and also the writer of many articles, often sermons held in the synagogues of Stockholm and Norrköping. Marcus Ehrenpreis, who was born in Lemberg (Lvov) in 1869 and later became chief-rabbi in Sofia before he was summoned to Stockholm in 1914, had been engaged in the Zionist movement and had participated in the first Zionist Congress in Basel, 1897, as one of Herzl’s assistants.[6] In Stockholm many were probably expecting him to continue his work for the Zionist movement, but Ehrenpreis decided to cut down on his international engagements – disappointing a few but probably pleasing the majority of assimilated Jews in Stockholm.[7] That he still cherished ideals close to what is commonly called Cultural Zionism is obvious, not least in Judisk Tidskrift, although this is Cultural Zionism unusually focused on religion.

Striking in Ehrenpreis’ sermons, as well as in other of his writings, is the important role of history. In an extra-issue of Judisk Tidskrift published to celebrate Ehrenpreis’ 75^th birthday, Ragnar Josephson, professor in the history of art, points to the rabbi’s effective use of history and to the fact that, contrary to historians proper, he was able to turn history into something other than plain knowledge – “Knowledge is many things, but still just knowledge.”[8] Josephson also provides the reader with a description of how Ehrenpreis uses history:

“It is the secret of historical writings, that they can create grandeur and spirituality from sufferings, and sorrow and disaster, from meanness and destruction /…/ Because they point towards other forces, forces that will never be depressed, but will always break through to help, heal and give hope.”[9]

The main problem demanding attention in Judisk Tidskrift in the 1930s and 1940s was, quite obviously, the Nazi Machtübernahme in Germany, their persecution of Jews there and later in other occupied territories. The contributors to the magazine seemed to take upon themselves the task of keeping up hope within the Swedish Jewry. So did Marcus Ehrenpreis in his essays and sermons. This task could not have been easy, because the columnists and essayists were well aware of the precarious situation of the Jews under Nazi domination. As early as in the mid 1930s there came out articles mentioning an extermination of Jews, even if this did not imply the same thing as today – something that must, after all, seem very alien to human imagination.

The difficulties of the time were mainly treated, especially by Ehrenpreis, through interpreting the future vis-à-vis experiences in history. Since development was considered to be fundamentally the same as it used to be in the past, the future could be understood. Now, this is nothing new to the Jewish tradition. The Mishna, commentaries to the Torah finished in the second century, provides lists of events that are similar, thereby enabling people to understand their lives and experience them in accordance to the present and to the demands of the law. The same strategy was applied, for example, by Jews in the Middle Ages, as well as later. Real persons were described by using archetypes. [10] That, for instance, Haman[11] and the events in the Book of Esther are not necessarily considered historically true doesn’t really matter. In a beginners’ or children’s book about Judaism you will find an explanation telling you that the Book of Esther might not be about something that has actually happened, “But that does not make it [the story] less true. It has happened many times in many different ways. /…/ Thus, even if the story about Esther didn’t occur at that time and in that place, it is still real.[12]

The essayists in Judisk Tidskrift also observed similarities between past and present. The representatives of evil, Hitler and the Nazis, appeared as late followers of Pharao, the Babylonians and Haman. Especially the latter was apprehended as the number one enemy, father of all later anti-Semites, and was a frequently used parallel. In 1931, for example, the historian Hugo Valentin claimed that anti-Semitism had been a constant factor in history, even if its motifs were changing, “as they ha[d] been changing from Haman to Hitler.”[13] And in a play staged in the spring of 1945 for the survivors of concentration camps, Haman even looked just like Hitler – to the great amusement of the spectators. [14] Not only characters, but also historical events were used as models for the present. Thus the situation of Jews in Germany was compared to the slavery in Egypt, while the German Blixtkrieg was seen as a parallel to the Assyrian and Babylonian campaigns from ancient times. Kristallnacht was immediately put in the same category as other disastrous events happening on the 9^th of Av, even if the date November 10^th is not really the same.[15]

To be able to use these parallels, one has to accept the idea that there are fundamental similarities between the past and the present. If you don’t see any likeness between your situation and the conditions of men in times prior to us – and seeing such similarities is by no means inevitable – it must be very difficult to use history for gaining insights into your own life. It would then perhaps be entertaining, but nothing more.

Neither theologically nor philosophically does this pose any problem in Judaism, since emphasis on the continuity of time is a very basic idea. This is also observable in Judisk Tidskrift, where certain phenomena were considered eternal – anti-Semitism, divine grace and the victory of righteousness.

Even so trustful a character as Marcus Ehrenpreis despaired, or at least had doubts sometimes. He compared his task as a preacher with that of the prophet commonly called Deutero-Isaiah, in the Babylonian captivity, and claimed that the present-day situation made his work even harder. Deutero-Isaiah could foresee, or have an idea of, Cyrus, the Persian king defeating the Babylonians and allowing the Israelites to return to their land, but “the preacher today still can’t see any signs of Cyrus…”[16]

Disasters like the captivity were difficult to handle even for the prophets, since the calamities were considered to be God’s punishment brought by an erring people. Thus happiness, as well as misery, was imparted by God. Sinning led to God’s punishment, while improvement returned the grace of God. Sometimes, however, the punishment seemed to lack proportions, or – which is more interesting in this case – improvement wasn’t followed by better conditions. The prophets reconsidered their view of life, and then claimed that God might very well wait a while before he rehabilitated his people, but his grace would eventually return.[17] Ehrenpreis did the same thing; God’s saving hand was postponed but he remained confident that it would be seen, sooner or later.

And here we reach what seems to be the main idea in the use Ehrenpreis and the other essayists made of history before and during World War II. The parallels are not comforting in themselves, but if one draws the consequences from them, history might be used to create a historical consciousness implying a happy future.

“Memory tells us this: Your road through history began with sufferings, your travel through the ages was a walk through fire and blood, hatred and despair. You have survived Egypt, and Persia, and Rome, and the Spanish inquisition. You will also survive the devastation now brought upon you.” [18]

“…the Jewish community in Poland, bravely struggling for their survival through the ages, will also outlive the disaster threatening it now …”[19]

Everyone reading Judisk Tidskrift, everyone listening to Ehrenpreis’ sermons, had the key to history, they knew what had become of the events brought to mind by the parallels. All of them knew that the Israelites had been freed from slavery and taken from Egypt to the promised land, that the rule of the Babylonians had finally come to an end and that Haman had been cruelly – yet fairly – punished for his viciousness. It may well be that they didn’t really consider these stories to be perfectly true, but they might still have thought that the narratives revealed the truth about what kind of world they were living in, the truth about the nature of God and mankind. Besides, they could easily see that all those miseries from the past had never managed to wipe out the Jewish people – something that was used to prove that they would survive also in the future. Ehrenpreis strongly believed that righteousness would eventually be victorious, “as it has always gained victories in the past.” [20] There is also an idea about disaster never being complete, a small number of people always surviving, building something new and better after the calamities:

“And this is also typical: Destruction is never complete; history does not know such a thing as total disaster, but the transforming, changing and renewal of life.”[21]

That this survival does not imply physical survival for all individuals must be apparent – claiming otherwise would be disastrous to the credibility of the writer. Instead it is a matter of survival for the people as a group of individuals and – especially with Ehrenpreis – something he refers to as the eternal spirituality of Israel. The Jewish tradition will never disappear. In the autumn of 1945, in a sermon at Yom Kippur, he noticed that the enemies of Israel had, in spite of everything, not managed to destroy this spirituality, “that will live for ever”.[22]

It is thus obvious that remembering disaster might help one to keep up hope in difficult or even hopeless times. The parallels used are those of really terrible events, and they seem to be all the more useful, the worse they are. You can’t, however, use just any event. The persecution closest in time in the 1930s would be the late 19^th-and early 20^th-century pogroms in Russia, but they were almost never invoked and definitely not as a comforting example. The secret of a successful comparison (successful in so far as it creates hope) seems to be a matter of time passing by. Events appear to be more useful if they are viewed from a distance.

How this has worked after 1945, and how it is working now, when we have reached at least some distance from the events of World War II, I can’t really say – not yet. At least some components in the memory of the Holocaust seem to have inherited ideas from Ehrenpreis and his kind – otherwise the historical consciousness would appear to be the opposite of the one invoked by other calamities used to gain hope in the 1930s. The Holocaust was such a disastrous event that the possibility of something similar happening again always throws a dark shadow over the future. Unpleasant events such as, for example, an Anti-Semitic demonstration by neo-Nazis, is immediately reviving pictures of the 1920s in Germany and signalling a horrendous future. Using the Holocaust for pointing towards a bright future does not seem possible. Still there are some tendencies that might indicate almost such a usage in the future.

A couple of years ago a monument commemorating the victims of the Holocaust was erected by the main synagogue in Stockholm. In a narrow alley between the synagogue and the congregation centre there are large stone plates inscribed with the names of thousands of murdered friends and families of the Jews in Sweden. My first visit to the synagogue occurred on a Friday evening in November some years ago. Having listened to a speech about the vigour of Judaism through the ages, I went outside and almost bumped into these names of extermination-camps and murdered individuals. I couldn’t understand then why the monument had been located just outside the synagogue, and I remember thinking that it must be a terrible task to preach about the vitality of tradition to a community constantly confronted with the remains of something quite different. Today I believe that the location of this memorial is self-evident and that it is really stressing the strength in Jewish tradition. It is not only a reminder of a past disaster, not only preserving memories of loved ones, but also a witness to the continuation of Jewish life. In a way it is almost an illustration of the American Jewish theologian Emil Fackeheim’s famous claim that it is the duty of every Jew to remain a Jew, so as not to grant Hitler a posthumous victory, ”Mir zeinen do – we are here, exist, survive, endure, witnesses to God and men…”[23]

In Out of Africa, the Danish author Karen Blixen is retelling a tale she heard as a child, the kind of tale you draw while you are telling it. This one is about a man in a small round house and the troubles he encounters one night when his pond is damaged. The point of the story is not what is actually happening, but that the storyteller, after finishing the tale, has drawn the picture of a stork. To Blixen this is a picture of how all of us endure ups and downs, hoping perhaps to be able to see a pattern and maybe even a meaning in our lives.[24] As we know, remembering is not only calling to mind single events, but creating memories which contain existential meaning, that is, useful memories. Mircea Eliade, a famous historian of religions, noticed that there is no culture where suffering and death are regarded as the end of everything; they are always followed by re-establishment and resurrection.[25] O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The Holocaust has had a great impact on the historical consciousness of man, Jew as well as gentile. Might it, in times to come, receive another meaning than today, and not only carry the message of death and destruction, but also give strength and hope for a better future?

References

Blixen, Karen. 1986. Den afrikanska farmen. Stockholm: Trevi.

Brandon, Samuel George Frederick. 1965. History, time and deity : a historical and comparative study of the conception of time in religiousthought and practice, containing the Forwood lectures in the philosophy andhistory of religion, delivered in the University of Liverpool, 1964. Manchester.

Brody, Abraham. 1929. “Några notiser till Marcus Ehrenpreis´ biografi.” Judisk Tidskrift. Jubileumshäfte av “Judisk tidskrifts vänner” tillägnat Marcus Ehrenpreis på hans sextioårsdag 1929.

Ehrenpreis, Marcus. 1933. Malakis rop till tiden : tal om gammal och ny träldom. Stockholm: Bonnier.

—. 1938. “Brinnande synagogor.” Judisk Tidskrift.

—. 1940a. “Att minnas och att glömma. Sammanfattning av tal i Stockholms och Norrköpings synagogor.” Judisk Tidskrift.

—. 1940b. “Om Polens judenhet.” Judisk Tidskrift.

—. 1948. Frågetecknet Israel : valda essäer från åren 1923 till 1948. Stockholm: Bonnier.

Eliade, Mircea. 1991. The myth of the eternal return: or, Cosmos and history: Princeton university press.

Fackenheim, Emil L. 1997. God’s presence in history : Jewish affirmations and philosophical reflections. Northvale, N.J.: J. Aronson.

Gersh, Harry. 1999. Så här går det till. Judisk vardag och helg. Stockholm: Hillelförl.

Josephson, Ragnar. 1944. “Historikern, diktaren, förkunnaren.” Judisk Tidskrift. Jubileumshäfte tillägnat Marcus Ehrenpreis på hans sjuttiofemårsdag.

Neusner, Jacob. 1988. “Judaic Uses of History in Talmudic Times.” i Essays in Jewish Historiography, edited by Ada Rapaoport-Albert. Middletown: Wesleyan University.

Sauter, Willmar. 1993. “Svensk-judisk teaterhistorik.” i Nya judiska perspektiv : essäer tillägnade Idy Bornstein. Stockholm: Hillelförl.

Valentin, Hugo. 1931. “Judisk månadsrvy.” Judisk Tidskrift.

Vidal-Naquet, Pierre. 1996. The Jews. History, Memory and the Present. New York: Columbia University Press.

Yerushalmi, Yosef Hayim. 1996. Zakhor : Jewish history and Jewish memory. Seattle: Univ. of Washington Press.