I do not know who they are, these people. They are not my people.
My sister is writing her memoir about what happened. In Toulouse, Sarah woke up one morning to find everything changed.
None of that brotherhood with Hitler spared anyone from the ovens.
Germans were directing traffic in this fabled French town. Quite a sight for a 9-year-old on her way to school. I was born a month after Hitler invaded, July 20, 1940. After a tortuous sequence of events, we escaped over the Pyrenees. My father carried me on his back in a backpack. My mouth was stuffed with cotton in case I cried out and alerted the Gestapo, which were hounding our footsteps.
My parents, Noah and Ida, never fully recovered. I provide details of this elsewhere.
For now I mention this to indicate that Holocaust survivors come in various shades. None of us “owns” the Holocaust.
I make it a practice never to judge Holocaust survivors, mainly those who endured the camps. They have special rights.
But do those rights extend to openly blaspheme the Jewish State? As these purported Holocaust survivors go public in their denunciation of Israel, have they lost their immunity? Do I have the right to strike back? I don’t know. It is risky. But I cannot remain silent.
I am reading about certain Holocaust survivors who have grouped together to blame Israel for everything under the sun. To further rub it in, they openly declare their love and pity for the Islamist terror group Hamas. The slander was gladly picked up by the BBC and Britain’s The Guardian, whose headline reads like this: “Holocaust Survivors and their Descendants Accuse Israel of Genocide.”