Bearing Witness: The Consequences of Indifference and the Call to Remember

Over the past year and a half, the world has observed the unfolding situation in Gaza. Leading authorities, including the International Criminal Court, the United Nations, and Amnesty International, have classified the events as genocide. However, both the United States and Israel deny this claim, labeling these actions as genocide would require acknowledging their respective roles in the situation—one as the perpetrator and the other as a supporter and funder.

Israel often cites the Holocaust as a justification for its statehood. This year marked the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, a death camp where over 1.1 million people perished. Built for the systematic extermination of the Jewish people and other enemies of the Third Reich, Auschwitz serves as a powerful reminder of the atrocities of genocide. The message of “never again” echoes through every concentration camp, museum, and memorial.

As an investigative journalist with Truthlyics, I recently visited Prague for its Jewish culture and epicenter, and Krakow for similar reasons, exploring the ghetto, former Jewish districts, and Oskar Schindler’s factory. Additionally, I visited the Terezin concentration camp outside Prague and Auschwitz concentration camp outside Krakow to better understand the history of fascism and the atrocities that swept through nations. I also sought to explore how these memorials currently address the situation in Gaza.

I started my journey in Prague, located in the Czech Republic. This area, formerly known as Bohemia and Moravia, was the home of my great-grandparents, who migrated to the United States prior to WWII. However, distant family members suffered horrific fates under the Nazis. My great-great-grandmother died in the Jewish district of Prague in 1936, before Hitler’s takeover. This personal connection made the coverage a much more personal experience.

Terezín

Prague had a rich and vibrant Jewish history and a thriving Jewish district. However, after Hitler’s takeover, the Jewish community from Prague and surrounding areas were shipped to Terezín, also known as Theresienstadt. Initially coined as a ghetto, the camp was largely set up as a propaganda tool to convince the Red Cross and other investigating agencies that, despite the imprisonment of the Jewish community, the Nazi party was still providing them with a rich and vibrant Jewish life and community within the walls. In reality, it served as a transit camp for Jews who were later sent to extermination camps, but it was also used by the Nazis as a propaganda tool to deceive the world about their treatment of Jews.

The camp was presented as a “model Jewish settlement,” and the Nazis even produced a propaganda film showing the supposed humane treatment of its inhabitants. However, the reality was starkly different. Overcrowding, starvation, disease, and brutal conditions were rampant. Thousands of prisoners died in Terezín, and many more were transported to death camps like Auschwitz.

The camps were largely run by the Judenrat, a highly controversial role within the camps due to the close working relationship the Judenrat had with Nazi officials. They often carried out orders, provided deportation lists, and encouraged the population to listen to the Nazis while hiding the nefarious reasons behind their imprisonment and the impending doom they would face if deported elsewhere. Within the walls of Terezin, people suffered from overcrowding, diseases, brutal treatment, starvation, and murder.

The camp consisted of two parts: the large fortress and the small fortress. The large fortress was a neighborhood with winding roads, homes, a park for the children, and even a movie theater. The more nefarious area in the camps was known as the small fortress. This was an incredibly poignant place. There is no life to be found anywhere throughout most of the walls of the small fortress, even the grass had been removed within the walls and gravel laid down instead. The only area that retained any sign of life would be the area where mass pits were dug and the thousands buried beneath an unmarked mass grave. Just behind that was the area where individuals would be executed either via shooting or hanging. The gallows remain there today. The Nazis created an environment seemingly devoid of life, either from the individuals they were trying to break or the prisons they wished to keep them in.

The barracks were perpetually overcrowded, providing neither adequate sleeping spaces nor proper toiletry facilities. The toilets were so overcrowded that people would spend hours in line to use the one or two toilets shared among the inmates. The line was so long that some would leave and immediately get back in it. Often, the bunks were shared with up to six individuals, and the lack of proper hygiene caused diseases and lice to run rampant. When the inmates were allowed to shower, they were forced to disinfect their clothes, a process that helped with the lice but left their clothes damp regardless of the conditions. During the winter, this shower process could lead to death by freezing.

Auschwitz-Birkeneau

Auschwitz-Birkenau was an equally dark experience. This was a death camp. Unlike Terezin, which originally started out as a ghetto and evolved into a concentration camp, the conditions that led to death were not a detailed part of the final solution in the same way that Auschwitz was. At Auschwitz, individuals arrived either to die or to help the death machine continue to run. Those considered too weak or unable to work were immediately gassed. Those ‘lucky’ enough to survive the selections would either be sent to Birkenau or Auschwitz I.

We started at Birkenau, which had recently been blanketed by snow that began to melt, leaving the ground muddy. The incoming main gate, currently under tents for the commemoration of the 80th anniversary of Auschwitz, still stands today, along with the tracks that directly lead to the concentration camps. This was not the original entrance; those tracks can still be found by foot today. The original prisoners would walk to Birkenau and help with the construction of the railway directly to the camps. Upon departing the overly crowded train carriages, the selection would take place.

Visitors can still walk along the selection areas, where families were separated, countless tears shed, and the brutalities and harshness of their new conditions became apparent from the moment they entered the camps. Visitors can also see the gas chambers that the Nazis tried to destroy at Birkenau to hide their crimes, a memorial to the former camps of men, as well as the women’s camp. This area became known as the death block. Workers of the camps worked and starved to death or were themselves chosen for selection as the horrific living conditions accelerated their decline. Women were sterilized, babies were immediately murdered, and rows upon rows of barracks housed people only working to die.

Auschwitz I, with its infamous gate bearing the phrase “Arbeit Macht Frei” (Work Shall Set You Free), welcomed prisoners to hell. Much like Terezin, this part of the camp was arranged as a facade for the outside world. The brick buildings provided protection from the outside conditions, and trees lined the paths. This part of the camp largely housed political prisoners, the Kapos, and other leaders from within the camps. Although still harsh, conditions were slightly better in Auschwitz I. However, the Nazis had not bombed the gas chamber that remained at the center of that camp. Nor the several gallows, that were scattered throughout the camp so that when prisoners were hung, they could be left for days. A stench forever permeated the air in both camps. Rooms of collected shoes and hair, located by the Allies, remained ready for use by the Nazi forces. These rooms remain to this day as a stark reminder of the atrocities—hair that had once sat upon the heads of their murdered victims.

The gas chamber, damp and with scratches on the walls from those looking to get out, remains with the latch on the roof that allowed for the entrance of the Zyklon B gas. A series of crematoria directly outside the chambers were used to “process the dead.” This one gas chamber could not keep up with the rate of killing necessary for those arriving at Auschwitz, thus the other two were built at Birkenau.

A Call to Remember

There are simply no words to convey the gravity of these places. Death and depression still linger as poignant reminders of what indifference can do. One of the more striking aspects of being there was noticing just how close the town was to Auschwitz I and Birkenau. When the Allied forces liberated the camps, they forced the local citizens to visit the camps to witness what their indifference had cost. So often, the words, “we just didn’t know,” would echo throughout those individuals, but how? The town was so close; the smell had to have permeated not only throughout the camps of Auschwitz and Birkenau but the town as well. It was clear that if they didn’t know, it was because they did not want to.

The message of “never again” resonated loudly and clearly throughout the entire camp. Unlike American memorials and museums, Israel was not a focus, nor were the hostages of the October 7th, 2023 Hamas attack. One of the notable differences in Krakow, Prague, and at the camps was the emphasis on “never again”—ensuring that indifference does not force individuals into becoming bystanders. However, in the United States, this message is directly tied to maintaining the state of Israel and ensuring its connection to the Jewish population. This theme did not permeate throughout the Jewish epicenters of Europe. The memorials and museums were not adorned with the flags of Israel or posters of the hostages from either side waiting to return home. The focus was on the atrocities committed within the camps, reinforcing that indifference is something we must combat fiercely. “Never again” for anyone felt like the genuine message.

Yet, the situation in Gaza complicates this message. While it is essential to remember and honor the victims of the Holocaust, we must also grapple with the ongoing suffering of Palestinians in Gaza. Both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict have experienced immense loss, and the situation is far from one-dimensional. While some argue that Israel’s actions in Gaza constitute a form of collective punishment, others contend that Israel’s security concerns—such as the threat posed by militant groups—must also be taken into account. Regardless of one’s stance on the conflict, it’s critical to approach the subject with an open mind, acknowledging the human suffering on all sides, and work toward a just and lasting peace that respects the rights and dignity of all people.

Commemorating Eight Decades: The Liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau

At the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, political leaders were not permitted to speak at the event. This marked a departure from previous commemorations. Although Poland assured Israel’s Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, that he would not be arrested, one has to wonder if his inability to speak at the event influenced his absence. For an event like this to be skipped, when the Israeli government often cites the Holocaust for many of its actions, is highly out of character, leading many to ask why this media opportunity was missed.

Throughout my travels, I encountered two locations that mentioned the Israeli hostages of October 7th: Ghetto Square in Krakow and one synagogue that wound through Krakow’s beautiful streets. The mention in an area that deeply remembers the crimes of Nazi Germany felt deeply out of place and out of touch—to ignore the crimes of one while demanding justice for a few.

I have been to the area that was intended to murder my kind. No matter what events led to those atrocities, I stood in the gas chambers that I had only been born four decades from. I stood in the streets of the towns meant to separate me and my family from others. I have stood in the areas in which all hope seems lost, even today, bringing a deep despair in my stomach as I stand amongst its residual energy. Indifference is something that seems to permeate every generation. The African Americans in America during the endless years of slavery, the Indigenous community forced off their lands, the Jewish community in Europe for perceived crimes against Germany, and in my lifetime, the Palestinians seen as a threat to the country of the Israeli people. Indifference seems to be something our collective cannot escape, but in each of these events, one thing remained—the lights, the people that would never allow those atrocities to occur without voices speaking out against them. Jewish, Christian, Muslim—they were human, and they saw suffering and wanted it to stop. In the end, those voices always win, and again we will begin the work of trying to warn other generations of the dangers that we ourselves now face.