Niiiiice... Why Borat Matters

I must say that I'm tired of the criticism from people who don't understand Sacha Baron Cohen and his character Borat. Why is his humor important and not entirely offensive? Well, in the words of the artist:

Borat essentially works as a tool. By himself being anti-Semitic, he lets people lower their guard and expose their own prejudices, whether it's anti-Semitism or an acceptance of anti-Semitism. 'Throw the Jew Down the Well' was a very controversial sketch, and some members of the Jewish community thought it was actually going to encourage anti-Semitism. But to me it revealed something about that bar in Tuscon. And the question is: did it reveal that they were anti-Semitic? Perhaps. But maybe it just revealed that they were indifferent to anti-Semitism.

And this view on anti-Semitism in some way inspired by his stuides of the Holocaust:

I remember, when I was in university, and there was this one major historian of the Third Reich, Ian Kershaw. And his quote was, 'The path to Auschwitz was paved with indifference.'

When I was in Berlin, the Borat movie was very popular. I only wish that I knew with confidence that Baron Cohen's anti-anti-Semitic message resonated more than the crude anti-Semitic "humor" that was intended to display the former.

Saturday, November 4

Our last day was "free," so Jordan and I tried our best to cover the highlights we wanted to see: the Pergamon Museum, boutiques in Mitte, and the German History Museum. We did a decent job, and wouldn't have been able to find our way around without the guidance of Rebecca Lubens. Since we overlooked a great number of sites, a future trip to Berlin looks likely.

At the Pergamon Museum we viewed the Pergamon Altar (ca. 2nd century BC), which was excavated by the Germans in the 19th century in modern-day Turkey. Coincidentally, I visited Pergamum this past August, so it was nice for me to see what I missed at that time. If the reconstructed altar were returned to Turkey, I imagine that it would be a HUGE tourist attraction (the site was quite empty when I visited). But I don't mean to make a recommendation either way...

We then visited the Ishtar Gate, the eighth gate to the inner city of Babylon constructed by order of King Nebuchadrezzar II (ca. 6th century BC). Unlike the altar, I don't think this grand and beautiful monument would attract too many tourists if it returned home.

We skipped many of the museum's other exhibitions (again, an excuse to return!) to check out the boutiques in Mitte. They weren't much different from what you might find on Melrose or in SoHo, but they were significantly more affordable (yet far from cheap!).

After walking around the city some more, we finally made it to the German History Museum about an hour before closing. Apparently, we did not prepare well for this visit. Rather than spend our time in the brand new I. M. Pei extension, we walked around the rather lousy contemporary history exhibit (from the end of WWI onward). I was disappointed not to see one display on the Berlin Airfit (unless you counted the one Care Package from the United States Army in 1948, without an explanation). On the other hand, there was plenty of information on Eastern German apartments, Western German railcars, automobiles, etc.

From there we headed over to David Kipp's apartment in Kreuzberg to have drinks with him, his sister Laura, and her friend Isabelle. His flat offered a beautiful of the city, and we had a pleasant time just taking it easy before we headed out to our fantastic Italian dinner.

David then got word from a friend about an intriguing party in the Prenzlauerberg area of Berlin. We hopped on the U-Bahn and got off near an abandoned lot, where we heard some rather unfamiliar music. We followed it to a make-shift building and entered. This is what we saw:



It was a belated Halloween Party, and I hope that the party-goers appreciated my costume as a conservatively-dressed, slightly shy, and uptight American. I think it worked. The MC even invited me to strike the pinata.

I had never seen a party like this one, which gave a hint at what else remained and made it all the more difficult to leave. Of course, I wouldn't have known what was out there in the first place if it were not for our gracious hosts.



I hope to be back soon...

Cheers!

Friday, November 3

Our final day began with a lovely bus-ride through the Berlin countryside to an elegant villa on a lake, where members of the Nazi leadership planned the systematic murder of Europe’s Jews.

The villa has recently been turned into a holocaust museum, which we explored under the thoughtful direction of our guide. During its course, he touched on many topics, including the rather common perception in Germany that the people were largely unaware of the mass killings of Jews. He shattered this illusion. Before the construction of Auschwitz, the Wehrmacht, the Nazi army, and its killing squads gunned down over one million Jews in the former Soviet Union. Millions of German soldiers fought during this first wave of the Soviet Campaign, and thus to deny their participation and familiarity, and the flow of information between them and their loved ones is beyond fact and good sense.

Our guide also explained that the extermination of the Jews was not Hitler’s original intention, nor were the means already pre-determined. The Nazis’ primary goal was to remove the Jews from Germany in order to create Liebenstraum, living space for the Third Reich. And in the war’s earlier years they sought the deportation of German Jews to Eastern Europe and even considered sending them to Madagascar. It wasn’t until the Soviet Campaign in 1941 that the Nazis followed orders to murder Jews en masse. And finally on January 20, 1942, senior Nazi officials (including Adolf Eichmann who took notes) met at the Wannsee Villa to elevate the issue of the Jews’ extermination and develop a systematic plan to execute it with swiftness and efficiency.

Like the experience at the Jewish Museum, the space was perhaps more meaningful than the exhibition. The setting at Wannsee could not have been more idyllic, to the contrary of the meeting, which could not have been more horrific. This juxtaposition between the villa and the death camps only illustrates the depravity of those individuals who planned genocide in a setting that instead ought to evoke the desire to venerate and protect nature and all of its creatures.

Or might it be more complicated than that? Even after we learned in great detail about the conference and the events leading up to it, we somehow found ourselves taking group photos at its entrance, with bright eyes and smiles. In some strange way, we become disconnected from reality, from what this deceptively lovely villa truly represents to us and all of civilization. And therefore it is absolutely imperative for us to not only remember the evil that happened there, but also to keep in mind how easy it is to get distracted, to forget, or even become numb to it.

And it was thus entirely fitting for us, immediately following the visit at Wannsee, to embark on a tour of just a couple of the many memorials dedicated to the Holocaust’s victims. Our first site was Track 17 at the Grunewald Train Station. From there, the Nazis deported tens of thousands of German Jews to their deaths. Then we visited the Memorial to the Levetzow Synagogue, which was one of the places Jews were forced to gather before their fateful trip East. And finally, we stopped by the old and desecrated Jewish cemetery, where we paid our respects to the site that the philosopher Moses Mendelssohn is believed to have been buried, and recited Kaddish near the only remainig tombstones. Although this afternoon’s activity was titled a “Tour of Jewish Berlin,” it might have been more accurate and precise to describe it as a “Tour of the Dead Jews in Berlin and How They Are Remembered.”

We then met with Christian Staffa, Executive Director of Action Reconciliation Service for Peace , and Thomas Lutz, Head of the Memorial Museum Department, Foundation Topography of Terror to discuss the ways in which Germany remembers and copes with the Holocaust. The latter organization confronts the Holocaust from a perspective quite different from what we had observed in the previous few hours. Rather than focus on memorializing the victims, Lutz seeks to document the perpetrators. And he reminded us that the German Nazis did not act alone – there were many other collaborators across the Continent.

Of course, where responsibility ends, accountability begins. Staffa’s organization, the ARSP, operates under the presumption of German guilt and seeks reconciliation with the peoples and countries that suffered under Nazi occupation. Over 180 long-term volunteers work in foreign countries ranging from Belarus to Israel to the United States with the intention of performing good deeds and learning about other cultures. Its reach is obviously quite impressive; even more so because the volunteers’ experiences stay with them for a lifetime. And by the end of our discussions, I realized that we had come a long way from the Wannsee Conference.

Later that evening I learned that Jewish life in Berlin was livelier than that day’s tour had suggested. Most of us in the group had decided to attend Shabbat Services at the Neue Synagogue on Oranienbugerstrasse . When we showed up ten minutes late, we had to be escorted to our seats because so few remained. The rather traditional service was easy to follow -- it was in Hebrew -- and the Rabbi accommodated our language deficiencies by summarizing portions of the German sermon in English.

And probably everything else about the evening defied the synagogue’s earlier traditions. For one, the service was held in a small chapel on the top floor because the main sanctuary had been bombed out by the Allies. Furthermore, today’s congregation’s history is also likely to be quite different: it was founded by two communities – one gay/lesbian and the other feminist. And yet the majority of the people in attendance were neither gay nor lesbian, but Eastern European. Both rabbi and cantor were women, and the rabbi, to my surprise, was a German convert.

In many ways I think this congregation offered a representative sample of the larger Jewish community in Berlin – small, yet engaged; traditional, yet progressive; German, yet multicultural. I loved it.

Thursday, November 2

I had to be sure not to oversleep so that my group didn’t miss the first bell. Yeah… it was back to high school for me and the others in the AJC program, and we were assigned to four schools participating in the “Hands Across the Campus Program.” It wasn’t something for me to look forward to – to say that my time in high school wasn’t a highlight for me would be an understatement. Nevertheless, I approached the activity with an open-mind and I was curious to see how different the experience might be in Germany.

As we waited for our assignment to a classroom at the Walter Rathenau School, my initial question was almost immediately answered. The students’ style of dress, posturing, and occasional teasing brought me back to my high school experience nearly seven years ago. The only difference was that I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. As soon as we made it to the classroom, the students split us into even smaller groups in order to take us on personalized tours. It just so happened that all of the students who elected to guide me were female, which meant that either high school students’ attitudes had matured – or I did.

Our tour began at a monument dedicated to the school’s namesake, Walter Rathenau. His story is quite fascinating and can be read in greater detail here. I could summarize by stating the following details: Jewish son of very successful industrialist, participant in the negotiations of the Versailles Treaty, liberal politician and German Foreign Minister, assassination victim by right-wing politicians only a few blocks away from the school. Our tour highlights included portraits of students who had perished in concentration camps, a young tree that had been planted in their memory, and a student exhibition on a Protestant theologian who had rescued Jews and lost his life in the process. The school certainly took some effort to recognize the past.

When I asked my trusty guides about the student-body, one explained that the school was well-regarded and that several students traveled there from outside Berlin. Another said rather nonchalantly that there were a significant number of Jewish students because the school was located in a wealthy neighborhood. Although the statement seemed rather innocuous, it made me feel uncomfortable. Was she aware that the association of Jews with money was a frequent anti-Semitic trope applied by the Nazis? Or that the majority of Jews living in Germany were in fact immigrants from the former Soviet Union, who were far from wealthy? Or had I become hyper-sensitive and paranoid during the course of my stay in Berlin?

Our visit concluded with a presentation by one of the school’s history teachers. Nearly twenty years ago he had combed through files that had been saved from the Nazi Period. He explained in detail the process by which over a couple of years the school became Judenrein. His presentation included: lists of students divided among several classes (full Jews, half-Jews, Jewish children of veterans, and foreign Jews); letters from Jewish parents that included requests for equal treatment and refunds (neither of which were granted) and notification of their students’ withdrawal; and a list of the graduating class that was almost entirely non-Jewish.

Thus within only couple of years, hundreds of students had been purged from the classroom. But rather than focus on the fates of those who faced extermination, the teacher told the stories of a few of these students who had achieved remarkable success. They included: Michael Kerr, the first judge since the 12th century to be appointed to Britain's High Court and not to have been born in Britain, and his sister Julia Kerr, author of When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit. This put an unusual spin on a familiar story, one that probably did not need to be retold to us or the students.

The presentation concluded with several quotations from non-Jewish students who had attended the school at that time. The consistent theme was: “the Jewish students were leaving the school, and one day we noticed that they were no longer here.” Not only had they failed to do anything to prevent their classmates’ dismissal, they had not even expressed the faintest interest in why they were disappearing. The teacher challenged his students to take an interest in the welfare of others and to act when injustice is being perpetrated. His final plea was for his students to attend a ceremony on November 9 at Track 17, the railroad station nearby the school, where the first Jewish Berliners were sent to concentration camps on that day. I wonder how many of them would actually heed his request.

After our session at the school, we visited a Yeshiva being constructed with funds from the Lauder Foundation. This visit only served to reinforce our view that Jewish life is returning to Berlin, and that much of the community hails from Eastern Europe. Today’s German Jewry stands in contrast with many of the country’s former occupants, whose lives are well-documented in Berlin’s Jewish Museum.

That afternoon, we made our much awaited trip to the museum designed by the acclaimed architect Daniel Liebeskind. The architecture itself is as much a testimony to the German Jewish experience as the artifacts it displays. Its most important feature is the set of axes that run across its basement. The axis of extermination highlights the stories and personal items of those individuals who were murdered in the camps. It culminates in the Holocaust Tower that allows those who enter to experience a sense of darkness, coldness, helplessness, and even fright that we often associate with the Holocaust. Running perpendicular to it is the axis of exile, which lists the locations to which German Jews fled and leads to the Garden of Exile. Although the garden’s design is also cold and almost unwelcoming (its terrain features a number of inclines), the tress planted atop the gray slabs point to a glimmer of hope.

The museum’s exhibition was interesting, but not overwhelming. It covers the breadth of German Jewish history, without an emphasis on any one period, including the Holocaust. Due to this omission, the museum has become subject to criticism, though I respectfully disagree. If anything, this decision amplifies the devastating effect of the Holocaust by humanizing its victims, who shared not only a common history with the rest of Germany, but also contributed greatly to its civilization. The museum also demonstrates that the Holocaust was not an isolated incident of anti-Semitism, but rather the culmination of anti-Jewish and anti-Semitic attitudes and acts in Germany over a millennium.

To wrap-up a somber and sobering day, Jordan and I enjoyed a tasty meal at Borchardt's, a favorite restaurant of the political establishment. I don’t know how they all manage to stay so thin, with schnitzel so good. From there we headed to Kreuzberg to a cramp bar called the Ankerbar. There we rendezvoused yet again with several of the attaches, and enjoyed an evening filled with conversation, and dancing on the most crowded and tiny dance floor I have seen. The music was eclectic, and people bopped the night away to music ranging from Indie Rock to Stevie Wonder to what sounded like circus music, which in some strange way, couldn’t have been any more appropriate.

Wednesday, November 1

At 9 A.M. we entered the Library Room of Cafe Einstein, an elegant coffee shop famous for its apple strudel, and we met Israeli Ambassador Shimon Stein. For the entire hour, he tackled our challenging questions and shared with us practical advice on how to conduct diplomacy among Europeans, especially when issues such as anti-Semitism and Israel are concerned (rule #1: do not begin any conversation with either hot topic). He also asked me to say "Hello to Los Angeles for him," a code for our common friend, who informed him of my visit.

Despite his eloquence, warmth and sophistication, he faces a rising tide of anti-Israel and anti-Jewish sentiment that seems almost impossible to curb. One telling anecdote that he shared with the group was of a visit made by an Israeli diplomat to a school near the French border, where he spent the entire time debating Israel's right to exist with the students. I couldn't help but wonder: would a diplomat of any other nation be confronted by such a hostile group that wished to deny his right to self-determination?

The role of Israeli Ambassador to Germany seems extremely challenging, and I think we were all grateful that Stein has stayed for an unusually long tour of six years.

We then took a public bus to the Foreign Office, an archetype of Nazi Architecture that formerly served as the Reichsbank, and held discussions with Karsten Voigt, Coordinator for German-American Relations. He opened our meeting with a summary of the shifts in German "geo-strategy" following the Cold War's conclusion and German reunification, with an emphasis on how such shifts affect Germany's relationship with the United States. We then discussed issues such as the "War on Terror," on which there are some noticeable disagreements.

For one, his government avoids using the term "War on Terror," since those words alienate Muslims around the world. Instead, according to Voigt, the mission requires isolating terrorists from the larger community, eliminating them, and setting the foundation for democratic liberalism and civil society. I think Voigt makes a valid case to a point -- I couldn't help but wonder whether his rhetorical choice reflects German denial about the threat posed by Islamic Fundamentalism. I pray that they don't suffer an attack for them to come to that realization.

In a rebuke to the Iraq War, Voigt asserted that "the desire for democracy is a cultural achievment." How ironic! Do you think it ever ocurred to Voigt that his statement blatantly contradicts German history? Germany's first attempt at democracy, the Weimar Republic (1919-1933) was an absolute failure and led to Hitler's ascendancy. Moreover, democracy didn't take hold in Germany until the American occupation following World War II. Voigt also recommended that we engage fundamentalists in dialogue with the aim of encouraging them to denounce terrorism. Had there been time for a follow-up question, I would have asked him to point to instances when this strategy proved successful. Despite these difference, I think we share a set of values that will serve us moving forward.

Afterwards, we lunched with Voigt and his colleagues at the Foreign Office cafeteria.


Immediately following lunch we headed over to the office-building that houses members of the German Parliament, the Bundestag. In a very modern conference room that overlooked the Reichstag, Diedre Berger, Director of AJC's Berlin Office, moderated a panel discussion with MP's Ursula Heinen (CDU/CSU0, Markus Loning (FDP), and Bodo Romelow (Left Party). Although their parties have diverging platforms, these three representatives seemed unified in their support for Israel and desire to combat anti-Semitism. I should mention that Romolow has been at odds with his party for inviting Hamas representatives to Berlin (though they were refused entry to the country because of the EU travel ban on Hamas) and has taken a visible stance against Neo-Nazis, to the consternation of his family that has suffered from subsequent threats. We were impressed by their thoughtfulness and courage, and we can only hope that they gain greater influence within their parties.


One of the contributing factors to anti-Semitism is high unemployment, which is particularly prevealent in the former East Germany, which some areas experiences a one-third unemployment rate. Labor market reform is necessary, but unlikely, due to the weak coalition between Social and Christian Democrats. After the meeting, I followed-up with the most energetic and friendly of the three, Ms. Heinen, and we discussed the lacking entrepreneurial spirit in these areas and the need for greater education. Combined with unemployment, the former government's sanitized approach to the Holocaust surely contributes to the alarming levels of anti-Semitism in the region.


From there we took a coach to the Foreign Office's Academy, which trains thirty-five attaches annually in the art of diplomacy. We met with the second-year class, an exceptionally talented and educated group that represents the creme de la creme of the Foreign Office (approximately 1% are accepted after a grueling nine month application process). We mingled with them for a couple of hours on their picturesque campus, and then most of them decided to join us for a concert of the Israeli funk and-hip hop band Hadag Nachash at the Neu Synagogue. For many of the attaches, it was their first exposure to American Jews and Israeli culture, and I hope we left them with a favorable impression. After the concert, a more informal type of diplomacy took place at Berlin's fine drinking establishments, thereby concluding an exhausting and enlightening day for us all...

Tuesday, October 31

Our morning started with a trip on the U-Bahn (or was it the S-Bahn?) to the Kreuzberg area of Berlin, in the former West. The area is home to the Turkish community, as well as young students and professionals. It reminded me of Silverlake. We met in a fairly dilapidated building near apartments covered with satellite dishes. Many of the women covered their hair, and most of the men wore moustaches. Welcome to "Little Istanbul."


We engaged in conversations (through our translator) with both the President and Secretrary General of the "Turkish Communities of Berlin," an umbrella organization that covers forty-nine non-partisan organizations. Our speakers painted a rosy picture of the community's desire to become German and tried to make distinctions between them and the Arabs of Paris. In particular, they referenced their strong relations with the Jewish community and German government.

The fundamental problem for the Turks is that they never intended to stay in Germany nearly 45 years ago when they started their migration for work, and neither did the German government expect or prepare for them to remain. And so, from an initial group of 5,700 people, the Turkish population has exploded to over 3 million strong, with a significant percentage of them residing in Berlin. They face many challenges, many of which are aggravated by the German government. They include high unemployment (35%), lacking educational opportunities (40% do not complete their secondary education), xenophobia, and language difficulties. Until the German government recognizes the need to remove barriers of discrimination and allows for a more gradual integration (as opposed to forced assimilation), I don't expect the situation to improve. The good news is that one-third of Turks have taken on German citizenship, and an increasing number are entering professions and academia.


Just around the corner from the center, we observed a much bleaker picture, especially viz-a-vis the Jewish community. There we met Aycan Demirel, Director of the Kreuzberg Institute Against Antisemitism. We were all very impressed by this Turkish-led organization that has taken on the mission of fighting anti-Semitism among Germany's migrant workers (e.g., Turks, Arabs, etc.). He founded the organization after witnessing the emergence of anti-Semitism within his community, which often resulted in violent acts perpetrated against Jews. Such an organization is quite unique. Rarely do we see, with the exception of several European goverments, other communities, particularly those from the Middle East, combatting anti-Semitism among their own neighborhoods. Moreover, we often associate anti-Semitism in Germany with its right-wing variant and overlook its other sources.

Aycan has worked closely with the AJC and aims to reduce anti-Semitism by promoting education and public relations, monitoring anti-Semitism, and organizing events. In his presentation, he referenced the "New anti-Semitism," which includes the rejection of Israel's fundamental right to exist. Such an issue also puts him at odds with the Kreuzberg's Leftist community, of which he considers himself a member. Thus, he has become the target of criticism from a few circles, including his former friends of Turkish descent who resent him for airing their dirty laundry. Again, for the second time in a row, I was touched to see a non-Jew come to our defense -- all the more so from an individual who has risked his place within his community.


Aycan then joined us for lunch with participants in AJC's Turkish-Jewish outreach programs. We ate at a Turkish restaurant on the ground floor of an elegant apartment building overlooking the channel that runs through Kreuzberg. I sat between two Turkish Germans from very different backgrounds. Veyzal Ozcan. the Advisor on Migration and Integration to European MP Cem Ozdemir, was born in Germany, sported a long mane and scruffy facial hair, and claimed not to speak a word of Turkish. Ahmet Iyidirli of the German Social Democratic Party on the other hand was born in Turkey, spoke the language fluently, and donned the characteristic moustache. I suspect that there difference were generational, though I have heard concerns that the Turkish youth of today are less inclined to assimilate. In short, it was a stimulating lunch, and we walked away with greater knowledge of the Turkish community.


We left for the archives of the Stasi (the secret police of the former German Democratic Republic), which following the reunification of Germany opened to the public, particularly those who wish to learn about the files the Stasi accumulated on them. The Stasi was much feared, and pursued particularly invasive operations and employed millions of informants to collect sometimes mundane details on their acquaintances. We visited the copper room, which was designed to protect important records from radiation (in the event of a nuclear attack). We also learned about the tons of files that were shredded (and then torn once the machines wore-out) by the Stasi as they were bracing to open to the public. The archives are now researching methods to reassemble the pieces with the hope of learning even more about the Stasi's dark past.

And for the final official event of the day, we met with Dr. Anne Kaminsky, Executive Director of the Stuftung Aufarbeitung (a government funded foundation devoted to the examination of the Communist Dictatorship in the former East Germany). She discussed their program and scholarship, as well as their projects aimd at promoting reconciliation between East and West.


But the end of the day did not end there. We then raced (or rather I did, with the others from the L.A. group trailing behind) to the State Opera House on Unter de Linden. We arrived just in the nick of time for a performance of Tosca. The opera was a bit depressing -- everyone died. On the bright side, the vocal and orchestral talent, set-design, and opera house were all outstanding. The opera house was a bit smaller than anticipated, but created a more intimate setting to appreciate the performance. It provided the perfect finale to a long day, though the "fat lady" was noticably missing.

Monday, October 30

Our trip began with a walking tour that took us from the hotel, by the Neu Synagogue, through the Brandenberg Gate, to the Reichstag, where we met Arne Behrensen, Research Assistant for MdB Kerstin Muller (Foreign Policy Spokesperson for Alliance 90/The Green Party). The Reichstag is as impressive a legislative building I have ever seen -- if not the very finest. I have yet to visit a capitol building that recognizes its history -- good and bad -- and seeks to move forward in a unified way. The Nazis burned it down, the Allies attacked it during World War II, and the East Germans abandoned it as the seat of their "legislature." And yet today, after the 1991 decision to transfer the Capitol from Bonn to Berlin, the Reichstag has been restored, updated, and beautified by Sir Norman Foster. The interior is unambiguously modern and austere, and the restored dome offers a stunning view of the Berlin cityscape.


During its renovation, the construction crews uncovered graffiti from Soviet soldiers (and a few Americans) on the ground floor. The architect decided to preserve the grafitti and bullet holes as a reminder for those who pass by. Behrenson also showed us another monument to the past that lays on the floor below -- a room filled with copper drawers for each former and present member of the Bundestag, including Nazis and Adolf Hitler, whose name is scratched out. We took an elevator up to the level where the political parties convene -- and party they must do! On this floor that hosts the party conference and press rooms, we discovered at the very center, butressing the dome and a view into the Assemby Chamber, stood two stainless steel bars that serves members of the Bundestag and their colleagues. I wouldn't be surprised if their parties, though representing a more diverse range of viewpoints, were less polarized than ours...


From there we stopped by the expansive Memorial to the Slain Jews of Europe, which lays within steps of the Reichstag and the future location of the United States Embassy. Unfortunately, we did not have much time to spend at this spot. Nevertheless, I could tell that its design -- rising gray slabs that converge in the center -- convey the massive scale of the Nazi "Final Solution," the gradual steps leading to its implementation, and one's ability to get lost in the systematic chaos.

We then feasted on a delicious vegetarian lunch at the AJC office, where Diedre Berger and Maren Qualmann entertained our questions and introduced us to their staff. We learned about their programs, which range from teaching democracy, multiculturalism, and tolerance in their "Hands Across the Campus" Program to their efforts at combatting anti-Semitism. They also confront the challenges of improving German-Israeli relations and integrating the Jews from Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union, who represent the majority of Jewish Germans and face numerous difficulties being spread out across the country (the German goverment -- learning perhaps from the Turish immigrant experience -- decided to disperse them across the country to force assimilation, without considering their needs to form even the most basic Jewish communities). The fact that most of the employees in the office, inlcuding the Program Director, were not Jewish, caught me by surprise and encouraged me by proving that there are Gentiles who care about Jews, in spite of our perceived sense of influence and security.

Immediately following this meeting, we returned to American soil for a meeting at the United States Embassy. It took us a while to proceed through their fortified entrance, and once we made it through, we were warmly welcomed by the diplomats. During our time together, which they generously extended, we learned about their experiences in Germany as well as their insights from veteran careers in the Foreign Service. John Baumen, Minister-Counselor for Political Affairs contested the notion that our "relations were lousy under Schroeder, and now wonderful under Merkel." He suggested that although our heads of state did not get along, our governments did and they worked closely together. He also pointed to the German troop presence in Afghanistan, which is only second to the United States', and now responsible for NATO command in the country's northern parts. I asked him about the closure of United States military bases in Germany, and he commented that this dramatic shift in US troops is dramtic in scale and on schedule. One common response he has received from Germans -- contrary to what we might have heard during the Cold War -- was: "You arent punishing us for not supporting the Iraq War by removing the military bases?"

Our day concluded my journalists over a delicious Middle Eastern dinner. (Un)fortunately, no journalists sat at my table, so I spent much of the time conversing with two of my closer friends from the trip -- David Kipp and Jordan Toplitzky. After we proceeded to debate a number of topics (the usual them vs. me) and drink, I met Jason Isaacson, the AJC's Director of Government and International Affairs. We discussed his trip to Egypt, which was covered in this blog here. As our group petered out, Daniel Inlender, Chair of ACCESS Los Angeles, and I joind the restaurant's Israeli-Arab owner in a friendly conversation (in both English and Hebrew) over sweet apple tobacco and nargila. It was the perfect cap to a stimulating day!

Louchheim Goes to Berlin: October 29–November 3

For much of the twentieth century, the words “Berlin” or “German” have practically become taboo in the American Jewish lexicon. I’ve lost count of the number of people I know who refuse to “buy German” or travel to Frankfurt, Berlin, or Bavaria. Undoubtedly, the history of the Holocaust has stained the conception of Germany in the minds of most American Jews, particularly those of older generations – and rightfully so. And although that stain can never be removed, there must be a point at which reconciliation becomes possible -- a point when we recognize that the Germany of today has made amends for the Germany of the past, that contemporary Germans were not responsible for the near extermination of European Jews and other so-called degenerates, and that Germans have replaced their belligerence with pacifism (for better or worse).

In light of this history, the German government helped fund a mission for American Jewish young professionals to visit Berlin and inadvertently consider this overarching question by exploring issues such as Germany’s relationship with the United States, Israel, its Turkish minority, anti-Semitism, and of course, the Holocaust to name just a few. The American Jewish Committee received a grant to coordinate the mission, and I could think of no other organization better suited for the task.

That is, following the end of World War II, no other American Jewish organization has had a stronger presence in Germany than the AJC. At a time when much of the world was coping with the war’s destruction and the atrocities committed, the AJC took a proactive step by working with leaders of the American occupation to support denazification. Its leadership also took a stance in contrast to many other American Jewish organizations in 1991 by supporting the reunification of Germany. And most recently in 1998, the AJC was the first of such organizations to open a permanent office in Germany.

As for me, when I was selected to participate on this mission, there was much more that factored in my decision to go. Perhaps because my generation is further removed from the Holocaust than that of my grandparents, or parents even, I associated Berlin as much with its dark past as I did with the Berlin Airlift, Checkpoint Charlie, the Berlin Wall, opera, modern art, and hipster culture. Going into the trip, I knew that there were contemporary developments that would trouble me – rising anti-Americanism, anti-Semitism, neo-Nazis, etc. – but they only reinforced my desire visit Germany and learn the truth about these challenges and how the people and government are addressing them.

In the end, the trip did not fundamentally alter my perspective on Germany. It most certainly added nuance and context to issues with which I was already familiar, and exposed me to challenges (such as the integration of its Turkish minority) of which I was not yet aware. I must say that Germany has done a remarkable job in preserving the Holocaust’s memory and taking necessary political steps to ensure that it doesn’t happen again on German soil. Whether the German government does more to protect Jews living in Israel from a nuclear Iran or a suicidal, homicidal Palestine is uncertain and not entirely promising.

Exploring Berlin, however, was a new experience and an absolute adventure. I can think of no better words to describe it than “humbled dignity,” or perhaps, “dignified humility.” No building better represents that theme than the seat of their parliament, the Reichstag (which I will discuss in greater detail). And I I have yet to visit a city that better displays the glory and horror of its past. And yet the cranes that dot the skyline point to an optimistic and ambitious future. So much – from its buildings and monuments to its artwork and nightlife and politics– suggests that the city yearns for modernity. And its vibrant and engaging youth seem determined enough to see that vision through to fruition.

The trip would not have been as enlightening or enjoyable without the staff from the AJC Berlin Office. In fact, the trip would not have happened at all without their thoughtful grant application and careful planning. My heartfelt thanks go out to Jardena Lande, Anja Spiller, and David Kipp. They all went well beyond the call of duty to create a truly memorable experience, and I am grateful to count them all as dear friends. And as memories fade, I hope that our friendships grow stronger.

Prost!