Every time I hear Avraham Infeld speak he reminds us that as Jews we do not have history, we have memory. This year I spent the first two days of Hanukkah in Berlin. The first night I stood near the Brandenburg Gate waiting for the lighting of a huge hanukkiah. Standing there, where the Nazi Regime once stood, I recalled various stories of Hanukkah. The original telling was of the military victory of the few Hasmoneans (Maccabees) with the assistance of God against the mighty Greeks. But, over time and throughout various texts (religious and historical), the story would morph from one of military might, to God centered, to one of cultural preservation, and eventually to the story of the oil. It is this story, the miracle of the single cruse of oil that lasts eight nights, that the Rabbis would choose to highlight and today it remains our main narrative.
The Germans of my generation have struggled and continue to wrestle with the memory and remembrance of the Holocaust. A dear friend, who grew up in West Germany and today lives in East Germany, talks at great length about her experience as a child and as an adult struggling with Germany’s past. She is part of a generation which continues to face their responsibility and needs both to remember and to prevent a re-occurrence. Yet today, particularly in the East, there is a rise in the of far-right rhetoric, primarily among the younger generation. The ideology and actions of the far right are increasing with antisemitic acts in Berlin and many other cities around the world. Germany however as a whole, continues to face the past and to ensure that that these far right voices do not become the governing future.
During my first visit to Berlin in the winter of 2001, I stayed in the former Jewish district of West Berlin, the Bavarian Quarter. I discovered while there the originally highly controversial “Places of Remembrance” memorial. These 80 
simple signs with symbols, placed above one’s head on light poles throughout the area were one of the first public memorials to be created in Berlin. A date and a symbol, each one spelling out one of the hundreds of Nazi laws and rules that gradually dehumanized Berlin’s Jewish population. Jews can not buy from the butcher, can not walk on the sidewalks, must use specific names – none, taken alone, are particularly earth shattering but over the course of a few years were successful in creating ‘the other’. Their establishment created great discussion about remembrance. They also made such an impact on me, that 17 years later, I sought out the neighborhood to reconnect with this memory. As I was walking around the neighborhood I came also across the Locknitz primary school where each year the sixth graders research the biographies of former Jewish neighbors and inscribe the basic information upon a memorial stone for a wall which lines the entrance. In 2012, the 1000th memorial stone was laid.
The neighborhood I stayed this time, Mitte, is in the former Jewish area of E
ast Berlin. Throughout this neighborhood and other places in Berlin, there are ‘Stumbling Stones.’ These small brass “stones” are placed in front of previously Jewish homes. Though this form of memorial began in Berlin, they can now be found in cities throughout Europe. Each one lists one member of the family who once lived in that home with their birth date, name, and when and to where they were deported. Near the train station a memorial to the Kinder-transport stands. On one side, the children are bent over and headed off to camps, and on the other, they are standing straight with smiles, heading to continued life in other countries, mostly England.
Berlin’s newest and currently most discussed memorial is the Memorial
to the Murdered Jews of Europe. It is found quite near the Brandenburg Gate and is to Jews if Europe not just Germany. Dedicated in 2005, the uneven sloping ground of 200,000 sq feet is filled with nearly 3000 concrete slabs in a grid pattern of various heights. That is it. There are no signs explaining. We are forced to bring our own knowledge and thoughts to the memorial. We are forced, if we so choose, to think and to assign our own thoughts and understandings. (There is an information center underground.)
There are memorials to political prisoners, homosexuals, members of Roma, and multitudes for Jews throughout Berlin. Germany is not just remembering the murder of innocents, but all who were displaced, injured and de-legitimatized during that decade. In the Tiergarten, one of the many memorials I saw was the “Memorial to the Homosexuals Persecuted under the National Socialist Regime”. On this memorial, and many others that I encountered along the way was stated the desire to “honor the victims”, “keep alive the memory” and “create a lasting symbol of opposition to enmity.”
Those are a few examples of the memorials I found in Berlin. Most are understated. They don’t tell you what to think, they don’t even tell you what they are. It is as if they are there to begin or continue a conversation, to make us think. There are many hours of conversations to be had about Germany and so many other locations around the world. How do we remember? More importantly how do we remember in order to prevent these atrocities from happening again.
Back in Israel, where we have our own challenges and our own memories of the Holocaust, Hanukkah continues. With the increasing number of candles each night our homes are filled with more light. This light is not for use (that is the reason for the 9th candle, the Shamash). The light from the hanukkiah is a light to be enjoyed while we pause in our lives and gather family and friends around us. For a short time each evening let us take this time of light to not only remember our past but to make new memories together. Happy Hanukkah.