You may have seen an article in the current
issue of the Washington Jewish Week asking
“Is It Just Like the Holocaust?” While the entire organized Jewish community
has condemned the policy of separating children and parents at the border, a
debate has now broken out over whether comparisons to the Holocaust are
accurate or not.
When
I say the “entire organized Jewish community”, it’s worth bearing in mind how
unprecedented this is. Obviously individual Jews may have different opinions,
but 350 national and local organizations issued a statement saying that “our own people’s history as
“strangers” reminds us of the many struggles faced by immigrants today and compels
our commitment to an immigration system in this country that is compassionate
and just.” Our local JCRC and the Washington Board of Rabbis issued a similar statement
and even the ultra-Orthodox Agudath Israel called for the policy to be rescinded and for
families to be immediately reunited. For a broader view of the organized
community’s perspective on immigration, take a look at the JCRC’s comprehensive policy adopted last year. (Full disclosure: I
am a member of the JCRC board representing the Conservative congregations and
rabbinate of the greater Washington area.)
On
a certain level my main issue with Holocaust comparisons to the current
situation is that they are unhelpful if they divert our attention. While the
policy of deliberately separating families has at least on paper been reversed,
there are still hundreds if not thousands of children who have been separated
from their parents and many families may never be reunited. As Federal Judge
Dana Sabraw wrote in his ruling earlier this week ordering the Federal
government to reunite children and parents as quickly as possible, "The practice of separating these families was
implemented without any effective system or procedure for (1) tracking the
children after they were separated from their parents, (2) enabling
communication between the parents and their children after separation, and (3)
reuniting the parents and children after the parents are returned to
immigration custody following completion of their criminal sentence. This is a
startling reality," the judge wrote. "The government readily keeps
track of personal property of detainees in criminal and immigration
proceedings. Money, important documents, and automobiles, to name a few, are
routinely catalogued, stored, tracked and produced upon a detainees' release,
at all levels—state and federal, citizen and alien. Yet, the government has no
system in place to keep track of, provide effective communication with, and
promptly produce alien children. The unfortunate reality is that under the
present system migrant children are not accounted for with the same efficiency
and accuracy as property. Certainly, that cannot satisfy the requirements of
due process."
No, it is not “just like” the Holocaust in the sense
that there are no death camps or gas chambers. But many Holocaust survivors who
were hidden as children or survived the Kindertransport, and their children and
grandchildren, do see parallels in the trauma that separation of children from
parents can cause, as well as the dehumanizing language (“infest, animals”) and
scapegoating being used.
In January 1993 I was part of a group of ten rabbis who
spent a week in Haiti. We went there because while he was running for
President, Bill Clinton criticized the first Bush Administration’s policy of
returning Haitian “boat people” to Haiti, but then announced after winning the
election that he would keep it in place.
There were ten of us in that group
and most of us didn’t know each other before we met at JFK airport. Our first
night in Haiti we met at our hotel with some of the Catholic clergy who were
our hosts, and they asked us to go around
the room, introduce ourselves and tell why we had come. All ten of us cited
precisely the same reason: the story of the MS
St. Louis, a German ocean liner which crossed the Atlantic in 1939 with 908
Jewish refugees. The ship docked first in Cuba, where the Jews were denied
entry; they then came to New York, were denied entry once again, then sailed to
Canada, which also refused to allow them in. The St. Louis went back to Germany
and most of its passengers died in the concentration camps. Seeing refugees fleeing
persecution and being sent back by the United States to possible death was not
something we as Jews could sit by and watch. So we came to Haiti to see what
could be done.
“Never Again” is the
rallying cry of our generation. We remember the suffering and murder of our
people and we vow “Never Again.” But what exactly does “Never Again” mean? Is
our mandate as Jews simply to make sure that what happened to us once will
never happen to us again? Or is it to make sure that what happened to us, never
happens to anyone ever again?
Jews are a people of
memory. We are commanded to remember Shabbat; we are commanded to remember what
Amalek did to us when we left Egypt, attacking the weak and the stragglers; and 36 times in the Torah, we are
commanded not to mistreat the stranger, because we are to remember that we were
strangers in Egypt. The Torah is quite clear. The purpose of memory is not
simply to enable us to better look out for ourselves. It is to give us guidance
in how we are to treat others as well. Otherwise, the commandment not to
mistreat a stranger is meaningless.
Something need not be
“just like the Holocaust” for me to know that it is unjust. As long as children
remain separated from their parents, the Jewish community will continue to
raise its voice. As Hillel said: “what is hateful to you, do not do to your
neighbor. This is the entire Torah, all the rest is commentary.”