Having passed through Auschwitz and thinking there could be no more dreadful place, we went on to the Birkenau extermination camp, located a few minutes distance from the Auschwitz camp. From the moment we got off the bus, even the smallest things we saw sent shivers up our spines and continued to shock us; walking on the seemingly endless railroad tracks that led countless millions of innocent Jews to the Nazi crematoria – may their Nazi names be obliterated, and looking at the never-ending housing units, and up until imagining that cursed spot where Mengele stood as the Jews got off the trains and with a wave of a finger, decided who would die.
All these thoughts and sights made me realize how much it was impossible to understand what was going on and indeed there is no mind able to comprehend what was this death factory.
Throughout this difficult journey, one thing always crossed my mind, and that is: Long live Israel. How so many tried and tried to destroy us and failed to do so. And above all, I thought that after 2,000 years of exile and severe and arduous hardships, we have our own country. We have arrived at the Promised Land. The Eternal God does not lie.
When we returned to Israel, I appreciated our soldiers even more, especially those who gave their lives so we can live here in Eretz Yisrael. You might say that after all the emotional strain I endured in Poland, suddenly I could let go knowing that this terrible chapter is behind us now. But what about Jews who suffered? Can they ever feel someday that everything was left behind?
Unfortunately, the idea that Israel is a country that fights for Jewish values, and would do anything for Jewish citizens, was shattered just one month after coming back from a trip to Poland.
It was on erev Yom Yerushalayim. A friend called and asked if I could come with a few others to a synagogue in south Tel Aviv to celebrate the occasion. I immediately accepted the idea and was glad to help where others needed us.
When we got there the next day, expecting a large group of people to celebrate such a joyous occasion after 2,000 years of exile, I was met with a very small group of local residents instead, mostly lacking motivation and joy. I didn’t understand how they could be so unhappy on a day like this.
After we finished the prayer, I went over to one of the people in attendance and asked him why there was such a small group. Where was all the joy? At first, he didn’t understand the questions, but after I repeated them, he sadly explained the difficult reality in which local residents were living.
Seven years ago, he said, many began to infiltrate illegally from African countries to Israel through Egypt and settled mostly in south Tel Aviv. They created fear and terror on the streets. He could not even take a stroll in his own garden or attend synagogue services and …
He then looked at me through half-closed eyes and asked: “How do you expect us to be on a day like this when my country brings goyim to Israel, and does not concern itself with our safety and this throws me back to Germany where they chased the Jews and wanted to hurt them. I can somewhat understand the goyim who hated us because we were living on their land. But now that we’re in our country, how can we accept a reality where goyim come here from another country and chase us?” Shocked and speechless, I excused myself and went on my way.