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I was born on Saturday, 7 March 1936, towards nine in the evening, in a maternity clinic located at 19 Rue de l’Atlas, in the xixth arrondissement of Paris. My father, I believe, was the one who…
When I was twelve, I read The Diary of Anne Frank.
I identified with her having to live
stories above a busy street
over a business, and having to keep quiet
for hours at a time.
I’d pad about on…
I had a very unusual fifteenth birthday. During my birthday week, the end of April, I was traveling with 5,000 high school students from around the world, visiting concentration camps in Poland. I…
Reproaches, condemnations, indictments by other nations—the plot is clear. It leads to the public humiliation, the forced isolation of a people whose suffering is the oldest in the world.
Arrests…
If it hadn’t been for Hitler there would be no Israel. If there had been no Holocaust there would be no Jewish State today. How often this line of reasoning is used! Even the German-British writer…
When it came time for me to start school, my mother went to the director of the Wilhelm Pieck School in Katowice, Poland, where we were living then, to register me. My sister, nine years my senior…
I hesitated a long while before […] writing these pages on the so-called revisionist movement […].
It appears rather strange that Jewish intellectuals, more than three decades after World War II, feel called upon now more than ever before to articulate for West Germans what it has meant and means…
Gathering the sources was a modern way of closing ranks, of reaffirming the essential unity of Jewish experience as one vale of tears through space and time. The harder the times, the more desperately…
The officer stared at them grimly.
“Now,” Mama said in a strong voice, “you have seen that we are not hiding anything. May my children go back to bed?”
The officer ignored her. Suddenly he grabbed a…