Last March, as the intensifying sun presided over a cold wind that blew a last winter chill through the streets of Stockholm, I stood with my friend, Hédi, who had survived Auschwitz with her sister, in front of a pile of old shoes. The undone laces reminded me of lifeless limbs and people callously thrown away. Hédi and I had been asked to inaugurate the European part of this installation, which had been arranged on both sides of the Atlantic – the other one outside the United Nations building in New York – in commemoration of the victims of the Holocaust, who were stripped of their belongings before they went to the gas chambers.
Each of us placed one of my son’s size-45 soiled white sneakers on top of the pile, and then stepped back to reflect before a gathered crowd, which took photographs of us observing a moment of silence. Hédi leaned her head on mine and instantly I felt the deep connection between us. Both of our lives had been profoundly affected by the same historical events, but in quite different ways.
Julie Lindahl, aged 3, pictured with her grandfather in Brazil.
As a descendant of the perpetrators of WWII and the Holocaust it feels inappropriate to speak of my own sufferings. Yet, it is often only by opening up to one’s own hurt, and being willing to explore it without embellishment, that one can gain insight into the pain of others and find meaning rather than self-pity. My friends who survived the Holocaust, Hédi and others, always encouraged me to explore this suffering, which they never once doubted was real.
I was handed incontrovertible evidence that my grandfather had been an ideologically committed Nazi since 1931, and an early member of the mounted SS.
In 2010, driven by the desperation of old family relationships that were collapsing under the weight of secrets and lies, I visited the German Federal Archives in what would become the beginning of a shocking yet transformational seven-year journey. In this temple of documents that Allied bombings and the Nazis themselves hadn’t managed to destroy, I was handed incontrovertible evidence that my grandfather had been an ideologically committed Nazi since 1931, and an early member of the mounted SS, which he joined in 1934. From the places and years marked on his party card, I understood that he had been stationed in occupied Poland throughout the duration of the war. In the documents my grandmother had prepared in her role as an SS spouse, I recognized her handwriting. It was the same bold script as in the many loving greeting cards I had received from her throughout the years.
After this initial discovery, I drew upon my academic training in twentieth-century Polish-German relations to research the story more thoroughly, traveling to archives and interviewing eyewitnesses in Germany, Poland and eventually Latin America. While I tried to keep my academic “hat” on, it was impossible to fight the feeling of disorientation. The family stories I had “taped” together in my mind in order to continue believing the old narrative came unglued like ill-fitting puzzle pieces. At the same time, I began to understand why I had lived in a room of shame for nearly 50 years. “It is where we do not seek truth that ungoverned guilt does its unholy mischief,” said an old man who had been drafted into the SS while still a teenager at the war’s end. He had devoted his life after the war to exposing complicity in his local area and shedding light on the enduring effects of “unclaimed guilt” or lack of remorse among the perpetrators.
Julie Lindahl and Hédi Fried. Photo: Emma Löfgren/The Local
A turning point in the work arrived when one of my grandfather’s victims, a ten-year-old child back then, looked me in the eye and told me that it wasn’t my fault, I hadn’t done anything. In that moment, the door of my room of shame opened a crack to let in a slim ray of light that showed me the way out. As I began to follow it and walk another path, I found an increasing number of kindred spirits moving in the same direction with me, many of them Holocaust survivors and their descendants. Survivors have sometimes told me about the enduring shame that comes from continuing to live when close family perished in the Nazi death machine. In turn, their descendants relate the impact of silence generated by the previous generation’s feeling of shame.
Reaching out across traditional divisions is the highest form of responsibility.
In autumn 2016 one of the kindred spirits walking this path, a young woman who had spent the same amount of time as I had researching her family’s past, contacted me. In photographs and writing she had meticulously recorded her grandmother’s wartime flight through Europe, including Scandinavia where I live, to escape the Nazis. She had heard me interviewed on NPR Boston, and her equally young Polish husband, who understood instinctively that we were walking the same path, suggested she contact me. He died suddenly a few hours after he and his wife pushed the “send” button on an e-mail to me.
Since then, Rachael and I have appeared together before several audiences on both sides of the Atlantic to relate our story of what brought us together, and how the intertwining of our experiences into a new narrative empowers us and others. In 2017 NPR Boston aired a three-part multi-media series about us that eventually went national and won several media prizes in 2018.
We live in times when the poison of the past is harming our societies. The most powerful antidote is not only personal stories that awaken people to this realization, but also personal stories of people whose lives have been formed in same-but-not-the-same ways that are permitted to fuse and generate a new, unstoppable energy. It is the reason I continue to actively seek these types of collaborations on the path of kindred spirits who comprehend that reaching out across traditional divisions is the highest form of responsibility.
This December, as I was visiting a friend of mine who survived five concentration camps and devoted decades of his life after retirement to counteracting extremism, we spoke of our journeys. “How do you manage?” I asked him, in awe of his determination. How do you manage? he asked, in recognition of our common challenge.
(10) Asbjørn Steckmest, October 30, 2020 4:27 AM
Read
I have sad proof my great grandfather was a Nazi collaborated an soldier for Deutschland, I am ashamed of my past. I am sure he now burn in hell for his part, dunno I'm 14 but I saw hus uniform one day in attic and asked . His collaboration with Germany made me angery, norsk uniform klok just like German back then dunno.?
(9) Raymond, July 18, 2019 3:12 AM
So Sweet
To me, she seems like such a sweet lady. It is difficult for me to imagine that she could have had such a terribly evil, sadistic grandfather. And yes, 'I am convinced that she completely repudiates what her grandfather did, and wishes to do what she can to compensate for what he did to our Jewish people.
(8) Emil Friedman, February 11, 2019 9:33 PM
Nobody is responsible for evils that were perpetrated by his or her ancestors.
We are only responsible for sins that we could have prevented.
Joshua, February 13, 2019 3:28 AM
yes
my thoughts as well.
(7) Natan, February 11, 2019 3:13 PM
Wonderful person, but that doesn't affect what we Jews have to do
An astute observer will note that as much as they (native germans, belgians, whoever...) hate the muslims, they invariably hate us Jews more and blame us for the problem they themselves created (in this case a massive, belligerent muslim population usurping their culture, government, economy, military, etc.).
Jews of Europe (and America, at some point) are in for large pogroms at the very least (it's just a matter of time), or an all-out holocaust at the most.
I desperately hope I'm wrong.
PLEASE get out and join your brethren in Israel so that we can unite (spiritually, financially and militarily). We've been paying lip-service to this plan for millennia. G-d is waiting for us to implement our part of it (he will help when we do).
This is not Zionism, it is Judaism. We have tons of ancient sources and precedents for this approach (Ezra being the most obvious).
Yoni, July 17, 2019 12:57 PM
Are we safer in Israel?
Are we any safer in Israel surrounded by millions that wish to destroy us? Are we safer when the democratic secular government requires equal rights for those that want to destroy the country, in effect a fifth column? The only thing that will make us safer is doing G-ds will through his Torah and mitzvos. And any country where one is better off serving G-d is where one should be until the final redemption.
(6) Anonymous, February 7, 2019 4:25 AM
Very moving
Children are not responsible or should not carry the burden of their parents actions.
(5) Stan Roelker, February 6, 2019 4:31 AM
Unfortunately, I am a skeptic
Unfortunately, "the living memories" of this despicable behavior will shortly no longer be with us to shout out reminders. These despicable acts will begin to fade into "history". Already, anti-Semites are reappearing.....even with the abundance of written and photographic evidence/facts that are openly available to read/observe. I fear words alone will not convince those that have hate in their hearts to destroy the Jewish people in spite of all this evidence. And just think what another clever dictator could do with all the "efficient tools" he/she would now have at their disposal. The wise/intelligent German peoples were sold a bag of goods from a very clever politician. I suppose one should be "politically correct" and attempt to "educate" these misguided anti-Semites with words. After all, we are "civilized"/humane/etc. Sorry, I am more cynical. After reading the narratives/viewing photographs of women/little children being destroyed, I would recommend having the eyes and tongues ripped out of each professed anti-Semite, since they are of little use to these idiots. What of a few thousand eyeless/tongueless idiots when compared to SIX MILLION. (6 million plus all the others innocents that died)
(4) Fredric M London, February 6, 2019 2:07 AM
How about today?
Her comments move me. However, I must question, do you also condemn, unequivocally, the Nazism of today's left? Do you stop to analyze that their hate is the same? Do you note that Hamas, a darling of the left, is on record as desiring to finish Hitler's mission? Do you see imams, calling for genocide against the Jews, are exactly the same? They are the same, but do you see it?
(3) David, February 5, 2019 7:27 PM
That must be difficult
Not long ago, I saw a picture of a man in a tallis and tefillin, apparently saying Kaddish over the bodies of his friends and family, who were lying on the ground in front of him. Surrounding him were the Nazis who were, presumably, about to murder him, as well. They seemed amused. I first admired the courage and dignity of the single remaining victim, who could maintain his faith in such an extreme case. But then, I wondered what it would be like to think of my ancestors as being the sadistic murderers in the picture. It was much more painful than identifying with the victim. Shalom, Ms. Lindahl.
(2) Reuven Maroth`, February 5, 2019 3:31 PM
My shame as a grandson of a nazi
My story is too long to sum up in a couple of lines.
Anonymous, February 6, 2019 4:03 PM
In response
Please share your story. Sincere remorse and shame is rare.
(1) Laureen Sussman, February 5, 2019 3:04 PM
Kudos to Julie Lindahl for bravely exposing her family's Nazi past
It is only through the academic research and presentation to the world of what the Nazis did to the Jews during the Holocaust - as seen through the eyes of survivors and of children of Nazis -that the people of the world will remember and never forget. As the philosopher George Santayana said, "Those who forget the past are destined to repeat it." We must never forget. There is so much overt anti-Semitism in the world today and so many people who do not know true World History, that the possibility of more shameful, hateful acts against groups of people becomes ever more real. We must all combat this hatred and bigotry by standing up against it and by remembering what really happened. I believe the Nazis were monsters, and I also know that the Jews who were slaughtered were all killed Al Kiddush Hashem. We must keep the memories of our martyrs and the lives they lived and lost forever in our minds, so that we can teach and work to prevent such horrors from ever happening again.