On the Auschwitz liberation commemoration day, Dutch Ambassador to Lithuania Jack R. Twiss Quarles van Ufford draws some lessons of the Holocaust for today.
1,600 km apart, Vilnius and Amsterdam. The former Jerusalem of the North and Jerusalem of the West. Two cities where for generations Jewish life was an integral part of society. Jews contributed to the fabric of these cities in trade, business, academia, medicine, art, sports, politics. Amsterdam was even affectionately known as Mokum Alef, “the first city”. A recognition of its status as a historical hub of Jewish life.
Two cities also in a sea of relative tranquillity, without major antisemitic outbursts. Yes, there was – as it was called in Yiddish – risjes, an antisemitic sentiment, a certain undercurrent, but it never led to pogroms like in many other places in Europe of the day. Until the Holocaust.
Contributions for centuries to our societies suddenly did no longer seem to count. With the persecution, the murder, we did not only kill our Jewish fellow citizens but also part of ourselves and our societies.
When I walk today in Žydų gatvė or Stiklių gatvė in old town Vilnius. Or when I walk on the Jodenbreestraat or the Rapenburgerstraat in Amsterdam, I see what we miss, what is no longer there and who we miss. All honest attempts to rebuild our cities and societies cannot take away the tremendous feeling of loss and emptiness.

The Holocaust was and is the absolute evil. In both our nations a huge percentage of our Jewish population was murdered during these days. The main difference being that in Lithuania the Jews were killed not far from where they lived, while in the Netherlands the Jews were brought by train to the extermination camps in the east.
In both our nations the nazis found their willing helpers. Either to kill their neighbours or to drive the trams and trains while paid overtime to the death camps. The excellent municipal records in the Netherlands provided the necessary input to determine who was to be killed. Even the religion of one’s grandparents was recorded.
Like the absolute evil of the Holocaust, the heroism of the Righteous Among the Nations is the absolute good in these times of evil. Because in both our nations many stood up. The often silent heroes from all different layers of society. Those who selflessly helped and hid children, families, and individuals. And it is in hindsight often hard to distinguish the reasons why some people became heroes and some collaborators.
But the reality of those days was – and it pains me to say so – more nuanced. Because the vast majority of our nations were neither heroes nor willing helpers. They stood by, doing nothing while their neighbours were taken from their homes. They watched as families, friends, and strangers were torn from their communities, either marched to the woods or deported to the death camps.

Was it fear, was it indifference, was it the undercurrent mentioned earlier, the risjes prevalent in our societies?
On the commemoration of the liberation of Auschwitz, this is the question that needs answering. Because the answer is not just relevant from a historical perspective but also today. It is the inconvenient question, because it forces us to look into the dark depth of our own souls. As individuals, as societies. And the answer should help us to avoid a repetition of evil on this scale.
But the answer will also show that the work is never done. That we have to confront the evil every hour, every day. And that we should always stand with those who are excluded, not stand aside and simply watch. If you close your eyes, the monster under the bed will not disappear. We shouldn’t leave fighting antisemitism to the Jewish community, to the victims. For their sake and for the sake of our countries and societies, because only being truly together we can honestly say: Never Again, Daugiau niekada.




