As I attempt to immerse myself back into daily Harvard life, experiences from Israel swarm through my brain, with each thought buzzing louder than the one before. It is so hard to wrap your head around such an intensive, epic experience. Specific sounds and images, seemingly disparate, flood through me simultaneously: the sparkling Tel Aviv beach, the grave, sincere voices of our organizers as they shared their personal stories about growing up in Israel, the sight of Ramallah from the rooftop of our restaurant. Some moments stand out stronger than others and tug at me, demanding reflection.
One of these moments that I keep returning to is our trip to the Holocaust museum, Yad Vashem. I have studied the Holocaust and of course read such classic books as Eli Wiesel’s Night but our visit to the memorial and museum of Yad Vashem is the first time I have been so powerfully confronted with the pure evil of the Holocaust. Although I have always been horrified and disgusted that such inhumane atrocities were committed, our experience at the museum in Israel is the first time I have openly wept for all those who suffered and died at the hands of hate.
Yad Vashem is a fluid memorial, carefully planned with symbols of light and darkness. Before walking around the museum, Holocaust expert (and daughter of a survivor) Dr. Rachel Korazim explained to us how to this day, Jews often blame themselves and each other for the Holocaust. On one side of the spectrum, Jews put the fault with Zionism as the cause for the Holocaust. On the other side, Jews blame those who did not embrace Zionism right away, the argument being that if European Jews had immigrated to Israel before WWII, the Holocaust could have been avoided. When Dr. Korazim first said this I felt surprised. How can anyone but the perpetrators of this great crime—the Nazis and the enablers—feel any type of guilt for what occurred? But then she put this idea into perspective—victims almost always blame themselves when something horrific happens (victims of sexual assault, for example, often feel it is their fault.) It is not just a Jewish reaction to feel inexplicable guilt because of trauma, she told us. It is a human reaction. Korazim’s words reminded me that the Holocaust was horrific not just because of its blatant evil—murder, torture, humiliation—but because of its insidious psychological damage.
After listening to Dr. Korazim, we were guided through the museum. Our guide showed us rooms filled with loud Nazi hate—images of the Jew as a parasite, glaring swastikas enclosed in blood red colors—and videos of Hitler’s speeches delivered to a brainwashed audience. We also watched videos illustrating the life of Jews before WWII and the lifestyle that was completely eradicated by the Holocaust—dancing in Eastern Europe, trading and living in towns like any other inhabitant. As our tour guide explained to us, these videos showed that the lifestyle of an entire people was wiped out in WWII. Never again will those towns and people exist as they did—all we have is memory. The most emotional moment for me in the museum was when we walked through the area specifically dedicated to the concentration camps. Images of horror surrounded all of us: starving men and women, children passed out from exhaustion, and people about to be shot ruthlessly into pits. I will personally never forget the sight of all the shoes belonging to the deceased in the concentration camps. Piled together in a glass box in the middle of the floor, our tour guide explained how many victims’ artifacts were found in the camps after their deaths. I looked at the big shoes, little shoes, red shoes, black shoes…all tiny tokens of so many people’s different lives that were prematurely extinguished.
At the end of the tour, the museum transitions more into a memorial. We were taken to a large, dark vaulted room where the lit-up images of people who died in the Holocaust are reflected into a deep pool of water. Many of the faces are nameless while others have been identified through careful research. We gazed at these remembrances of lost lives before finally being escorted outside. When you enter the museum, you see a room shaped like a triangle with clips of Eastern European Jewish communities before the Holocaust playing on the wall. When you exit, you see another triangle but this one frames a beautiful view. Standing in the elevated space, you can see the green hills and valleys of Israel stretching out for miles.
Surrounded with this fresh burst of white light and air, after seeing so much dark evil inside the museum, I took a deep breath. Gulping in the clean, invigorating sights ahead of me and dazzled by the brilliant sky, I felt very lucky to be alive.
This visit reminded me of the preciousness of life but also most importantly, that we must be on the look out for evil and be prepared to stop it at all costs. Our tour guide reminded us that the Holocaust did not just happen because of the actions of evil people but because of the inaction of good people. There is so much evil in the world today and it is impossible for one single person to eliminate it. But we can be aware and when we witness hate, we must take action and not turn our heads and pretend we do not see. It is so hard to stand up and be brave. But I think that now when I feel myself falter or give in to weakness, I will remember the images I saw in Yad Vashem and recall the fatal consequences of fear.
