Today is the 9th of November. We remember those who have been murdered, slaughtered, tortured. We remember this who suffered. We remember the voiceless, we remember the victims.
We also remember the majority of people who stood there and did nothing. We remember those who did something, who denounced their neighbours, who threw stones into windows, who burned temples.
I remember my grandfather, who went to war being eighteen, and as far as I know most have been at least one of those who did nothing to stop the pogroms, to stop the Shoa, to stop the war. If he wasn’t involved. I cannot ask anyone any more. The witnesses are all gone.
Their memories live in my heart, and when I see neofascist like Trump, like Gauland and von Storch, fear for the one promise, for the one obligation we all have, to be broken.
Never again.
