A Discussion of Rachmil Bryks, May God Avenge Their Blood: A Holocaust Memoir Triptych
If there were justice in the literary world, this moment would be noticed by many: a new translation of Rachmil Bryks’ works had appeared. Instead of celebrating a major literary event, one confronts a question: “Who is Rachmil Bryks?”9/11: The Lesson We Forgot
Sadly, one has to educate an English-language readership. I hadn’t heard of him either. He was a famous Yiddish writer who wrote a great deal about the Holocaust in Poland. He grew up in Skarżysko-Kamienna, Poland, among Hasidim, and moved to Łódż, where ultimately he survived the ghetto. In 1946, he went to Sweden and from there to the United States. He lived nearly two decades in New York City until his untimely death in 1978. His many books in Yiddish can be acquired free of charge (download) from the National Yiddish Book Center.
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Admittedly, there are many great writers of the Holocaust, so what makes Bryks a stand-out? For me, it is his range, he has pieces that pay compliments to Shalom Aleichem (“Those Who Didn’t Survive”), and other pieces that share traits from Ahron Appelfeld. However, many of his works, such as the Holocaust Triptych, resemble Tadeusz Borowski. In my opinion, Borowski was the finest of all. His enigmatic, condensed, and sparing style hinted at depths that readers were asked to imagine, to fill in the silence left by the author. Borowski told what he saw in flashes and narrow slices, but with great precision and intricate detail. But by leaving out his analysis, he forced the reader to sort out the horrors and draw his/her own conclusions. Thus readers became contributors to the text. It was an effective system.
Bryks is a bit like that. He is a writer, not a philosopher, theologian, moralist, or historian. His material is always local, visits to family, descriptions of relatives, neighbors, or strangers encountered in the here and now. The material in this book is all autobiographical, in the “Triptych” he describes his journeys during the first days of war, his arrest by the Nazis and experience in a work camp. Later he will describe his deportation to Auschwitz. Because this is real literary craft, it is useless to paraphrase. As Tolstoy said in answer to a question of what War and Peace was about, “To answer, I’d have to write the book again from beginning to end.”
To give a sense of his style, I quote from the third part, “From Agony to Life,” when he is in Auschwitz. The chapter is entitled, “The Wild Beast,” and in it Bryks describes a German overseer of the kitchen, Hermann, who takes a young boy, Pinek, to bed nightly and beats a different prisoner with a metal pipe daily. The anecdotal story reflects bare description without analysis.
This is where the political horseshoe closes. On one side, a conspiratorial far right sees hidden Jewish power behind governments, wars and history. On another, a radical anti-Zionist left can arrive at strikingly similar conclusions through different language.Amb. George Deek: The Christian Israel you are not being shown
One calls it Jewish power, another calls it Zionism. One says Mossad knew about 9/11, another says the IDF committed 7 October.
The vocabulary changes, the conspiracy survives.
And now comes the warning, one we should all recognise. Consider the cultural distance travelled from “Never Forget” to Hasan Piker saying “America deserved 9/11”.
Increasingly, the question after an atrocity becomes not simply why someone committed it, but what the victim did to provoke it. Context becomes mitigation, explanation begins to resemble justification, and the ideological agency of the perpetrator disappears beneath an examination of the victim’s supposed culpability.
We saw it after 7 October, and this is one aspect of why Israel and the Jews matter to the 25th anniversary of September 11th.
Jews are sometimes described as the canary in the coal mine. What I mean by that is simple, historically, we have an uncomfortable habit of finding ourselves early in the queue.
Israel is not the only target of Islamist extremism and Jews are not its only victims. Al-Qaeda’s principal enemy was America, ISIS murdered Muslims, Christians, Yazidis and Jews, Islamist terrorists have struck London, Paris, Madrid, Manchester, Brussels, Mumbai, Bali and countless cities across the Muslim world.
The West keeps hearing “Israel” and assuming the argument ends at Israel, history suggests otherwise.
Israel is not the final destination, Jews are not the final target, Palestine is not necessarily the limit of the cause. 9/11 should have taught us that.
In a month’s time, the names will be read again, nearly 3,000 of them. I will think about sitting in my car in Sunderland, listening to those names and finally crying for something I had witnessed twelve months earlier but had somehow been unable to process.
For millions alive today, September 11th is history; for me, it never will be. I remember where I stood, I remember the confusion and the fear, I remember the towers coming down and the sensation that the world was changing around me before any of us understood what the new world would look like.
Perhaps that is why our collective amnesia troubles me so much. I was there the last time the West discovered, in the most horrific way imaginable, that an ideology incubated thousands of miles away did not intend to remain there. I watched the towers fall.
Twenty-five years later, we still remember the planes and the buildings, those who jumped and the firefighters who ran in, above all, we remember the names.
What we appear to have forgotten is the warning.
That is why I am writing this now, a month before September 11th. I don’t want to argue, I want to remember. The dead deserve that much. But remembrance without learning eventually becomes ritual.
“Never Forget” was supposed to be both a promise to those we lost and a warning to those who remained.
Twenty-five years later, we haven’t forgotten 9/11.
We have forgotten what “Never Forget” was supposed to mean.
If you genuinely want to know whether Christians are flourishing in a country, there are better measures than the behavior of its worst citizens.
Start with the most basic question:
Are Christians disappearing?
In Israel, they are not.
In 1950, Israel was home to roughly 34,000 Christians. Today there are about 184,000, and the community continues to grow.
Then look at what Christians actually do here.
Consider one image that tells you more about Christian integration than a hundred government brochures.
Justice Salim Joubran was an Arab Christian justice of Israel's Supreme Court. He sat on the panel that sent former Israeli president Moshe Katsav to prison. Think about that sentence. An Arab Christian judge helped send the Jewish president of the Jewish state to prison.
And nobody in Israel regarded his ethnicity or religion as an issue. He was a Supreme Court justice doing his job. That is the point.
Christians are physicians and hospital directors, academics and businesspeople, mayors, police officers, soldiers and diplomats.
I happen to be one of them.
The boy from the Christian Scouts in Jaffa eventually joined Israel's diplomatic service and became the first Christian appointed to represent Israel as an ambassador.
Today, I serve as Israel's special envoy to the Christian World, a position created specifically to deepen Israel's relationship with Christian communities around the world. Quite an elaborate way for a country supposedly hostile to Christianity to behave.
There are other inconvenient facts. In 2014, Israel formally recognized the Aramean nationality, giving members of ancient Aramaic and Syriac Christian traditions official recognition of an identity rooted in Christianity's earliest history.
Israel is also investing in Christianity's past and future here.
A few days ago, I visited the excavations at Bethsaida on the Sea of Galilee, where archaeologists identified what is likely to have been the hometown of the Apostles Peter and Andrew.
I watched Israeli and American archaeologists, Jews and Christians, literally digging the world of Jesus back out of the earth.
There is something wonderfully inconvenient about that image: The country supposedly erasing Christianity is uncovering the village of the Apostles.
And Israel is already preparing for 2030, when Christians will mark 2,000 years since the baptism of Jesus, an anniversary expected to bring enormous numbers of pilgrims to the Holy Land. Basilica of the Annunciation
Something interesting is happening beyond Israel's borders as well. Recent polling in Lebanon found strong support among its Christian communities for peace with Israel: 77% among Maronites and 72% among Orthodox Christians.
Perhaps Middle Eastern Christians, after watching what has happened to ancient communities in Iraq, Syria and elsewhere, are beginning to ask questions that old political slogans cannot answer.
Perhaps Jews and Christians in this region have more invested in one another's survival than generations of conflict allowed either side to admit.











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