American Jewry and the Holocaust
Sermon, August 27, 2004
Rabbi Bruce Kadden

This evening I explore one of the most sensitive and difficult topics in the history of American Jewry, the question of whether the American Jewish community could have done more to rescue the Jews who fell under Nazi rule in the years leading up to the Holocaust.  It is an extremely sensitive issue because, as Elie Wiesel reminds us, whatever we say about the Holocaust must be able to be said before the souls of six million Jewish victims.

And it is also sensitive because it directly reflects upon many Jews who are still alive and remember all too well those difficult years.  Finally, it is a sensitive issue personally because my father and his parents were one of the many Jews who did emigrate from Germany to the United States during the 1930s and thus avoided the fate of some of their other relatives and many of their fellow countrymen.

As I continue my series of sermons in honor of the 350^th anniversary of American Jewry, I turn this evening to considering what American Jews did do and did not do during the Holocaust.

Dr. Jonathan Sarna of Brandeis University sums up the controversy surrounding this issue in his recent book, American Judaism.  “Some blame Jewish leaders for doing too little too late, some condemn Jewish organizations for their inability to unite in time of crisis, some argue that American Jews should have applied greater pressure on the government to help save Jews, and some point accusingly at missed opportunities—actions that if taken might have made a difference.”  On the other hand Sarna adds, “Others conclude sadly that little more could have been accomplished given the realities of the day.”

In examining this issue, it is important that we look at it in the context of the American Jewish community of the 1930s and 40s, and not judge the Jewish community of those years by today’s standards.  In the 1930s, the Jewish community was much less secure in its Jewish identity and much more sensitive to antisemtism.  Discrimination was widespread and often unchallenged.  American Jewish leaders were often afraid to publicly speak out on issues for fear of a backlash. 

It is sometimes difficult for us to appreciate the challenges that Jews faced in the first part of the 20^th century.  Charles E. Silberman, in his book A Certain People, describes the world in which he grew up in the 1930s:  “it was…a world of informal but firm quotas and restricted opportunities, one in which Jews saw themselves (and were seen by others) as outsiders.  Where we lived, where we worked and at what occupation or profession, even where we played…were affected, and often determined, by what “they” (non-Jews) would allow.”  Jews wanted to be accepted as Americans and often would do whatever it took to do so, including changing their names and leaving the Jewish religion.  The vast majority of Jews, of course, did not abandon Judaism, but nevertheless were quite sensitive to the feelings and actions of the surrounding non-Jewish community.

A second factor that we must understand before considering the actions and inactions of American Jews during the Holocaust is the information that was available to the community.  When revelations of the death camps and the massive devastation of European Jewry were brought to light after the war, many individuals and organizations claimed that they were not aware of what was happening.

In 1968, Arthur D. Morse wrote While Six Million Died: A Chronicle of American Apathy, demonstrating that information about the death camps and the extent of the destruction was indeed available to government leaders and to the American people.  Subsequent books by other scholars such as The Abandonment of the Jews by David Wyman and Beyond Belief:  The American Press & the Coming of the Holocaust 1933-1945 by Deborah Lipstadt, bolstered Morse’s conclusion that American and Jewish leaders knew what was happening. 

However, as Dr. Sarna points out, “the American press, and even some Jewish and Jewish owned newspapers (like the New York Times), underreported German atrocities in the 1930s and 1940s and misinterpreted their significance; they considered the reports exaggerated, like the atrocity stories manufactured during World War I, and they feared charges of parochialism.”  Based on this practice, he concludes that most people “failed to assimilate the magnitude of the unfolding Holocaust until it was too late.”

How did the community respond to what was happening in Europe?  The American Jewish community cautiously monitored the rise of Germany’s Nazi party in the 1930s.  When, however, “Germany’s Reichstag elections consolidated the Nazi triumph” in 1933, Stephen S. Wise, leader of the American Jewish Congress, called for a mass protest rally in Madison Square Garden and protests in other major cities throughout the country.  Other Jewish leaders opposed this response as provocative, preferring backroom diplomacy to public demonstrations. 

Nevertheless, Wise and his supporters persisted, even in the face of assurances that the German government would moderate its anti-Jewish policy if the rally were cancelled.  On March 27, 1933, 22,000 people packed the Garden, with more than that number outside.  A week later, Germany initiated its boycott of Jewish merchants, claiming that the rally had provoked the action.  Indeed, some Jewish leaders accepted this preposterous claim, in their attempts to temper further public responses.

The next significant response was a boycott of German products, endorsed by Wise, the American Jewish Congress and The Jewish War Veterans, but opposed by B’nai B’rith and The American Jewish Committee.  A number of major stores saw a significant drop in the purchase of German products and curtailed their purchase of German goods.  While the effect of the boycott was negligible on the German economy, “the measure was effective principally in keeping the Nazi issue alive before the public and in ensuring that American Jewry remained somehow ‘involved,’” according to Howard Sachar.

The subsequent attempt by Wise and other Jewish leaders to get American athletes to boycott the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin was not as successful, although it too drew significant support and kept the issue of the mistreatment of German Jews in the public eye.

Meanwhile, as conditions worsened in Germany, some Jews recognized that they had no future there and sought to leave.  While exiting the country in the mid 1930s was not especially difficult if one had financial resources, finding a place to go was increasingly challenging.  The United States had established strict quotas in response to the depression and other countries were even less receptive to immigration.  As Sachar concludes, “With the free world mired in economic depression, and contaminated increasingly by its own varieties of xenophobia, the last encumbrance other nations wanted was more Jews.”

Despite the strict quotas, more than 100,000 Jews entered the United States in the 1930s.  However, the quota for immigrants from Germany was never filled although the demand for visas was overwhelming.  American Jewish leaders were aware of this situation, but recognized that it was futile to challenge the reality.  Even an attempt to admit 20,000 refugee children failed to gain significant governmental support.  And we are all too aware of the tragedy of the S.S. St. Louis, which was turned away from American shores and forced to return to Europe.

In 1938, an international conference to deal with the refugee problem was held in Evian-les-Bains, France.  Thirty-two countries sent delegates and 40 private refugee agencies were represented.  The United States made it clear from the outset that it could not do more than it was doing, and Britain insisted that no discussion take place of opening Palestine to the refugees.  Other countries followed suit, and the only tangible result of Evian was the creation of the “Intergovernmental Committee on Refugees,” which met a few times with negligible impact.

The situation for the Jews in Germany became much more desperate in November of 1938 after Kristalnacht, the Night of Broken Glass.  Almost 100 Jews were killed, thousands were injured, over 7000 Jewish businesses were destroyed and many synagogues burned down.  The response to this devastation was one of outrage and condemnation.  However, there was little substantive change in United States policy, especially with regard to immigration.  And some historians have concluded that it was the lack of significant international response to this unprecedented action which indicated to Hitler that the world cared very little about the Jews.  Although it would still be a few years before the plans for the Final Solution were in place, the groundwork was clearly established on Kristalnacht.

The news of the Final Solution and its implementation reached American shores in August, 1942.  Gerhart Riegner of the World Jewish Congress sent a telegram to Stephen S. Wise about “alarming reports” of the deportation of Jews from the countries occupied by Germany to concentration camps in the East where they would be exterminated.  Some considered this a rumor of war, but over the next few months similar reports confirmed what was taking place, and Wise shared this information with the press and public.

In response, a day of mourning was called on December 2, which was observed in New York and other cities throughout the country.  A few days later Jewish leaders met with President Roosevelt, asking him to make the world aware of this tragedy and attempt to stop it.  For the most part, however, American Jewish leaders realized there was very little they could do.  According to Sarna, there was a sense of despair in the community, as the enormity of what was happening set in.  And when the war ended and the magnitude of the slaughter came to light, the community was numb.

Almost 60 years after the end of the war, it is easy to look back and wonder why the American Jewish community didn’t do more.  But it is also easy to understand why there was disagreement among Jewish leaders as to the best response to what was happening, and their ultimate inability to have a significant impact on United States policy.  And it is almost certain that nothing they could have done would significantly have changed things.  It makes no sense, therefore, to blame or criticize the Jews of that era and their leaders, for had we have been in their position, it is doubtful that we would have done anything differently.

We can, however, recognize that there are important lessons to be learned, so that we will respond differently in the future.  And if we look at the post-Holocaust Jewish community, its pride of Jewish identity, its willingness to take to the streets to support Israel and Soviet Jewry, and its ability to cultivate access to political leaders, we can affirm that we have, indeed, learned those lessons.

[back to list of sermons]

[back to top]