Courage to Act: The Rescue Of Danish Jews During The Holocaust Continues To Inspire

For Rabbi Jair Melchior, the rescue of Danish Jews during the Holocaust is more than a story, it’s an everyday reminder.  

Eighty years ago this month, the Danish people helped rescue their Jewish neighbors, secretly providing transport by sea to Sweden over the course of three weeks. Ordinary Danes saved nearly 95% of the country’s 7,800 Jews. Marcus Melchior, Jair’s great-grandfather, played an instrumental role in the rescue. 

The Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York City will open a new exhibit on Oct. 15 that explores the rescue called  “Courage to Act: Rescue in Denmark.” Intended particularly for children and adolescents, the interactive exhibit not only commemorates the event, but asks visitors to confront the question: How would you respond if you heard a cry for help today? 

And that, said Melchior, puts demands not only on museum goers, but the community he serves in Denmark today. 

“It’s demanding,” the 32 year old rabbi said, “not only of our gratitude — three of my grandparents were on those boats — but also of our lives. We have to do the same for others who are in need. If we don’t, the historical lessons have not been learned.”  

Rabbi & Imam Attend Holocaust Remembrance Ceremony at Auschwitz-Birkenau

At a time of increased antisemitism, anti-Muslim hate, and xenophobia in Europe, it is a powerful moment when a rabbi and an imam stand side-by-side in solidarity, with Holocaust survivors, one another, and on behalf of Europe’s Jews and Muslims.

On Thursday, 27 January Rabbi Michael Schudrich, Chief Rabbi of Poland and Imam Adham Abd El Aal, representative of the Grand Mufti of Poland in Warsaw, did just that at the International Holocaust Remembrance Day (IHRD) ceremonies at Auschwitz-Birkenau, a Nazi death camp where more than 1.1m people, mostly Jews, were killed.

The pair are part of the Muslim Jewish Leadership Council-Europe (MJLC), an organization founded to serve the need to free members of religious minorities from prejudice, false claims, discrimination, and violence.

Seventeen years ago, on 1 November 2005, the United Nations (UN) General Assembly designated 27 January as IHRD. The yearly commemoration marks the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau in 1945 and is meant to remember and honor Nazism’s many victims. It is also intended to educate people about the Holocaust, prevent further genocide, and denounce all forms of “religious intolerance, incitement, harassment or violence against persons or communities based on ethnic origin or religious belief.”

Due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, this year’s IHRD ceremony at Auschwitz-included only a handful of guests, mostly survivors and local leaders from the religious and political spheres. Among those who gathered at the memorial in Birkenau were Rabbi Michael Schudrich, Chief Rabbi of Poland, Imam Adham Abd El Aal, representative of the Grand Mufti of Poland in Warsaw, the Roman-Catholic Bishop Roman Pindel, the Orthodox Bishop Atanzy and Bishop Adrian Korczago from the Polish Evangelical-Augsburg Church. 

On the importance of the MJLC’s presence at the event, Schudrich said, “What happened in Auschwitz was a Jewish tragedy. It was a human tragedy. But all of humanity needs to learn the lesson: the world cannot be silent when mass murder and genocide has taken place. Therefore, we must speak out together. It’s our responsibility,” he said.

The Little-Known Jewish History in the Heart of Germany

Berkach lies in the bucolic borderlands between the German states of Bavaria and Thuringia. Formerly divided by the hard boundary between former East (GDR) and West Germany, the one-time international frontier is now marked by an old watch tower, about a half mile outside the village.

But I’m not in Berkach today to chronicle its accounts of living on the fringes of the former GDR. Instead, I’m here to discover another significant aspect of the hamlet’s history, its once robust and significant Jewish life. 

As Germany looks back on 1,700 years of Jewish life in the country, dating back to a decree in Cologne in 321 they are recalling Judaism’s long, if complicated, history in central Europe. 

Visiting sites like Peter Eisenman’s Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin or renowned Jewish museums in Frankfurt, Berlin, or Munich, one gets a sense of the enormity of what was lost in the Holocaust — in human lives, in culture, in knowledge, in history and heart. 

Yet, despite the ways each institution seeks to personalize the ambivalence of German Jewish life over the years, there is an intimacy and immediacy that is missed if those are the only places one goes. 

To get a sense of the absent presence that Germany continues to wrestle with, one must also explore smaller, provincial places like Berkach. 

Weimar: The Capital of Contemporary Yiddishland?

In a clear homage to the Beatles’ 1967 “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” album cover and its wonderful whirl of colorful visuals, the poster for this year’s Yiddish Summer Weimar (YSW) festival features a menagerie of cut-out visages: from Johann Sebastian Bach and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, to wandering cattle and a bedecked bass drum reading, “Makonovetsky’s Wandering Stars Club Band.”

Together, the collage symbolizes the transcultural and time-spanning story of Yiddish culture and music — its progenitors and critics, its historical influences and contemporary performative interpreters.

At the center of it all stands Alan Bern.  

Bern playing the accordion. PHOTO: Yulia Kabakova, courtesy of Alan Bern

The Bloomington, Indiana-born composer, musician, educator and cultural activist made his way to Berlin, Germany in 1987. There, he helped found Brave Old World, a band described by The Washington Post as the first “supergroup” of klezmer music’s contemporary revival movement.

Klezmer music is an instrumental tradition of Ashkenazi Jews of Europe. Simply meaning “musician,” the word “klezmer” reflects, and conveys, its broader Yiddish roots.

A spoken language of a considerable portion of Ashkenazi Jews for centuries, Yiddish emerged in 9th-century Europe as a mix of German vernacular, written Hebrew, and Aramaic, Slavic, and Romantic linguistic influences and vocabulary. Meaning “Jewish” in the language itself, Yiddish is also the vehicle for a rich culture heritage of everyday Jewish life and celebration: proverbs, humor, idioms and music.

Over the last 30-odd years, klezmer – and Yiddish language and culture in general – has been enjoying quite the comeback.

Knoblauch Klezmer Band · Moustache

In the midst of this rejuvenation, Bern and Brave Old World were invited to conduct a workshop on Yiddish music in the central German city of Weimar as part of the European Summer Academy in 1999. The workshop was a wild success and Bern became the founding artistic director of what is now known as YSW — a five-week summer institute and festival for the study, creation and performance of Yiddish culture and music in the heart of Germany.

Today, it is one of the most widely recognized programs for the renewal of Yiddish culture in the world, receiving awards from the European Union and the German Music Council, among others. In 2016 Bern was awarded the Weimar Prize in recognition of his significant cultural contributions to the city.

For Bern, YSW is about more than showcasing Yiddish music; it’s about exploring Yiddish culture as a complex, and continually evolving, convergence of European and non-European customs. It’s also about empowering people for creativity and connection on a continent evermore marked by diversity and difference.