By Miriam Karp

Shattering glass, vile hatred, fear and terror, destruction and death, gas showers and crematoriums. Joyful children singing Aleph-Bet, kissing the velvet-covered Torah, pride and celebration, shining menorahs.

In the place of horrors, a country whose mere name still makes many shudder, Jewish life is growing up from the ashes. Defeated in its attempt to make the world “Judenrein,” Germany is now home to at least 105,000 Jews. The Jewish scene has moved beyond individual remnants to thriving communal life. Even the Holocaust could not uproot 1,600 years of continuous Jewish life, yet Germany’s historic relationship to Jewry played out under the Nazis makes new Jewish life in Germany uniquely complex.

Germany’s Jewish population has tripled in the past decade, but there are still only one fifth as many Jews living in Germany today as at the beginning of World War II. Jewish historic and communal sites are being rebuilt, even as the Jewish community faces threats from right-wing extremists. Broad-based attempts to stop these groups are based on the recognition that Anti-Semitism and intolerance are attacks not only on individuals, but on the very fabric of democracy.

Since the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Soviet Union, great political, social, cultural and religious transformations have taken place both within the Jewish community and among non-Jewish Germans, as both groups struggle to come to terms with the past and to create a new future. Changes include shifting ethnic/national make-up, and political leadership, and the renaissance of Jewish art and literature. Germany and the Jewish community in particular struggle with new forms of anti-Semitism from native German extremists and the growing guestworker Turkish Muslim population.

Germany is home to the third largest number of Jews in Europe and the continent’s fastest growing Jewish population. The estimated 105,000 does not include many Jews who are not affiliated with the main Jewish organization, the Central Council of Jews.

A significant milestone was reached on January 27, 2003, when German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder signed the first-ever agreement with the Central Council of Jews granting Judaism the same legal status as the Roman Catholic and Lutheran churches. The agreement was signed on the 58th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, where over a million Jews were murdered during the Third Reich.

Rabbi Yisrael and Chani Diskin, directors of Chabad of Germany, were sent by the Lubavitcher Rebbe in 1988 to Munich, Germany’s third largest city, after Berlin and Hamburg. “We came to an existing community and structure that was replete with buildings and institutions, but few young teachers. Our mission is to infuse the German Jewish community with vitality, to show that Judaism can be a source of strength and pride, rather than of fear, secrecy and sorrow.”

“Our first few months here were a big adjustment. I found myself looking at older Germans and wondering what they did during the war. But after a while, you get used to living here. People are very private about being Jewish. We have to be sensitive. When we mailed postcards to our youth group, we were asked to send all notices in envelopes, so the mailman wouldn’t know who was Jewish. People are wary to display mezuzot on their doors. My husband and children are among the few who openly display their Jewishness on the street.”

The new vitality is gratefully received. “Even non-Jews too are happy to see our public menorah lightings and holiday celebrations- and glad we are regaining our confidence.” It is ironic that the Diskin home is right across the street from Hitler’s Munich apartment. “There is the balcony where he preached his venom, yet he is gone, thank G-d, and we are here, living Jewish life.”

“Not everyone could leave after the war. Some suffered from TB or other illnesses. Some stayed behind to be with their elderly. Others just couldn’t start life again elsewhere. As they reestablished lives and businesses, some of their children stayed.”

The fall of the Berlin Wall ten months after the Diskin’s arrival dramatically changed the nature of the community. “We came just in time to fill the new need. People underwent tremendous change, and soon the dramatic influx of Eastern European Jews began.”

About 200,000 Jews have come through Germany since the early 90s, many passing through and some staying. Attracted by the generous social services and opportunity, most are highly trained in their careers, but know little about their heritage. Most speak Russian, not Yiddish or German, and need extensive help acclimating. They are awarded permanent resident and work rights and offered citizenship.

The vast and sudden immigration placed a great burden on the existing Jewish community, whose infrastructure was not prepared for such numbers. Immigrants needed language instruction, jobs, housing, and moral support. Social welfare services and finances were strained. The traditional “ethnic” tensions between indigenous German Jews and Eastern European Jews (Ostjuden) could be seen. Ironically, the native Germans were the smallest part of even the existing Jewish community, mostly Eastern European displaced persons (DPs) who found themselves in Germany at the end of the war. Now the majority of the community are ex-Russians. The infusion of vitality and numbers has been a boon to the previously small and aging community, which numbered 25,000 when the Wall fell.

“The goal for most immigrants is material success, Judaism isn’t their highest priority, but we try to involve them and their children. Many want to find out what being a Jew is all about, having been deprived of this opportunity in their homeland. The youthfulness and sheer numbers of the immigrants have enhanced the self-image of the local Jewish community to be more open and confident,” says Mrs. Diskin.

In this land of paradox, Chabad is helping the survivors, the Russians, the few thousand Israelis, and many who travel to Germany for business or to access its excellent medical resources. “We are very grateful to the Rohr Family Foundation; their support enabled us to bring Jewish education, celebration, summer camps and schools to 14 cities throughout Germany,” said Mrs. Diskin.

When Rabbi Yehuda Teichtel, Chabad emissary in Berlin, told his grandfather where he would be living and working, his response could serve as the mission statement for Jewish life in Germany today. He implored his grandson, “Go to Berlin, to that very place where Hitler tried to destroy Judaism, and rebuild it.”

“He told me the greatest revenge against Hitler is to live in the very same place where he tried to wipe us out. We are here to rebuild.”

Captions:
Purim 5766 celebration in the same school as below with the entire Jewish student body, which comprises about 8% of the school population

Sukka Mobile parked in the schoolyard of Luitpold Gymnasium, the Munich public school that Albert Einstein attended. Mrs. Diskin teaches Jewish religion courses to grades 5-8 in that school.

The Munich Fire Department, along with the Mayor, Mr. Christian Ude, assist Rabbi Diskin with the Kindling of the public Menorah in the center of Munich