This past weekend, I accompanied my wife, Tova, to a conference in Munich, Germany. The conference pertained to authorship of ancient Jewish texts. Seeing as I have little to offer in that field, I spent two days touring the city while my wife spent her time with her colleagues.
Since World War II, Germany has been a complex country for Jews. I was born less than a generation after the Nazis murdered 6 million Jews. When I was a child, my parents would not purchase German goods of any kind. In the mid 70’s, my parents bought a Volkswagen Beetle, to the consternation of my grandparents, who had lost most of their family in the gas chambers of Poland. My parents would never think of flying to Israel with a stopover in Germany or Poland. What? Give the Nazis my money? Never!
The State of Israel has had an even more complex relationship with Germany. Many of the Israelis who fought in the War of Independence in 1948 were refugees from Eastern Europe. Germany does not deny their role in the Holocaust. They have built into their national culture the understanding of what Germany once was and what Germans once did, so as to prevent a future recurrence. Never again. Germany’s relationship with Israel is defined to a large extent by this principle. In 1952, the German government agreed to pay reparations to the Government of Israel, as the representative of the Jewish People. The reparations were to cover the costs of "resettling so great a number of uprooted and destitute Jewish refugees" after the war, and to compensate individual Jews for losses in Jewish livelihood and property resulting from Nazi persecution. The reparations nearly tore the country apart. Menachem Begin, who was at the time the Leader of the Opposition, called them “blood money” and led Israelis to the streets in protest. After five hours of rioting, the police finally were able to take control of the situation using hoses and tear gas. Hundreds were arrested, and hundreds were injured. Over the years, reparations money has not only bolstered the Israeli economy, but it has also bolstered their military, as well. Israel receives its Dolphin-Class submarines from the German ThyssenKrupp company at a heavily subsidized cost. These submarines can project Israeli force far beyond the country’s borders. Defense collaboration with Germany runs in both directions. Germany is one of the largest customers in the world of the SPIKE LR precision tactical missile. SPIKE LR can hit tanks or a window at ranges of 3.5 miles with precision and lethality that is unparalleled. The only similar missile in the world is made by MDBA, a European consortium that includes German companies. The fact that Germany would procure thousands of these missiles overseas rather than form its own backyard is telling. Israel has also recently sold Germany the Arrow-3 anti-missile system in a 3.5 billion dollar deal, the largest foreign sale of weapons in Israel’s history. Arrow-3 intercepts targets in outer space and has been used with great success to defend Israel against Iranian and Yemeni missiles over the past year. And, yes, MBDA also makes an anti-missile system of its own that did not meet German requirements.
Munich is a beautiful city. It has a great vibe. It has bustling plazas with outlets of every international store you could possibly desire: Apple, Tommy Hilfiger, and H&M. This time of the year, it hosts Christmas Markets, selling Christmas tree decorations, nativity scenes, and food – so much food. Shops sell German delicacies such Bratwurst, fried donuts, and beer, so much beer. Munich refers to itself as the “Birthplace of Beer.” The town has stunning architecture – skyscrapers, cobblestone plazas, and ancient church steeples. At least they look ancient, but actually, they’re not. The allies bombed Munich to rubble during World War II. Around 90% of the old part of the city was severely damaged due to the Allied policy of carpet bombing. Everything has been rebuilt since then.
Munich is such an amazing town. And yet.
Everywhere I went I had this feeling that something was, somehow, out of place. One morning, I went to the BMW Museum. For automobile aficionados like myself, this was nirvana. The museum complex is split into two parts. One part, called “BMW Welt,” is a huge showroom of new BMW cars, as well as brands that are owned by BMW, such as Rolls-Royce. Most of the cars are unlocked so that a person could jump into the car and try things out. (Unsurprisingly, the Rolls-Royce cars were off limits, set behind a knee-high glass wall). Across the street lies the second part of the complex, called the “BMW Museum.” The museum is designed as a helix that guides the visitor through the history of BMW, technology development, and design. And of course there are a large number of BMW passenger cars, race cars, and motorcycles to look at. The “out-of-place-ness” began at the entrance to the museum, where a large computer screen displayed the BMW Company Timeline: “1900 – the Role of Motor Sport, 1920 – the Start of Mass Production, 1945 – Difficult New Start in Germany.” Difficult New Start? What did that even mean? I found out when I got to the last exhibit, “A Place of Remembrance, The Bayerische Motoren Werke 1933-1945.” At the entrance to the exhibit is a description: “The BMW Group acknowledges its history and confronts it with a critical eye. The company’s aim with this exhibition, which tells the story of forced labor during the NS dictatorship, is to help ensure that nothing like this ever happens again.” NS, by the way, stands for “Nazi Socialist.” The word “Nazi” appears nowhere in the exhibition. The exhibition contains pictures of people who were incarcerated in the Buchenwald concentration camp. They would work at the factory, many clearing potash mines below the factory’s surface, in deadly conditions. Most of these people were Jews, although the word “Jew” appears nowhere in the exhibition. I lingered at the exhibit until I could take no more. I left in tears. I am fairly certain that I was the only adult in the museum that day who was crying. Complex.
After I exited the museum, I noticed that I was in what once was the Olympic Park, venue of the 1972 Summer Olympics. On September 5, eight terrorists from “Black September,” an organization that eventually morphed into the PLO, broke into the dorms in which the Israeli Olympic Team were sleeping and took them hostage. The Germans tried negotiating with the terrorists and eventually they bungled a rescue operation, killing all eleven of the hostages. A famous picture of a terrorist on the balcony with a sock on his head still frightens me. I looked for and found a memorial for the athletes. It consists of two large screens upon which the events of the day are screened. It was cold and rainy, but I was not the only one there. Exiting the memorial, I saw the building that housed the Israeli team. Its balcony had an orange awning, and I could almost see the terrorist with the sock on his head. Something new to keep me up at night. I had had enough crying for one day and so I headed back to the hotel. Complex, you say?
On Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, we went to the new Central Synagogue. Outside the synagogue, German police patrol the area with automatic rifles. The synagogue is an official landmark in Munich. It cost about around $70 million dollars to build, and much of the funding was provided by the city of Munich and the German state of Bavaria. The new synagogue is stunningly beautiful. Munich's original main synagogue was destroyed in June 1938 and stood a few blocks away from the new synagogue, on ground that is now a parking ramp. A Star of David from an archway that once stood at its entrance is proudly displayed at the entrance. And then I noticed that one thing was missing: Windows. According to Jewish Law, a synagogue should have windows so as to put the worshipper in the proper state of mind for prayer, to free the soul, as it were. This synagogue had windows but they were about thirty feet above the floor. The reasons for the lack of windows are obvious – windows offer would-be terrorists an easy target. Munich Jewry has much experience in that sort of thing. Complex, indeed.
To get from our hotel to the synagogue, we walked through a plaza and passed a store that sold memorabilia from Bayern Munchen, the local Football (soccer) club, traditionally one of Europe’s powerhouse teams pretty much since the ball was invented. On one of trips past the store, I took a photo and sent it to my sons, both of whom are mad about soccer. When I sent the photo, my older son told me that when he was in High School, about 15 years ago, rooting for Bayern Munchen was taboo in Israel. Today, they’re just another team, no different than Real Madrid or Manchester City. Does it mean that Israelis have moved on? Are we letting bygones be bygones? In no way, shape, or form. The world can never be allowed to forget. But in the same way that modern-day Italians are not the same Romans who destroyed the Second Holy Temple and killed more than a million Jews in the process, today’s Germans are nearly a century separated from their Nazi ancestors. In October, German Foreign Minister Analena Baerbock spoke in the German Parliament (Bundestag) on the first anniversary of the October 7 massacre. She said, “A major task for German foreign policy over the past 11 months has been to work together to ensure that the terrorists’ perfidious playbook does not come to fruition. The aim of the attack on 7 October was, after all, to isolate Israel around the world, to destroy all efforts to normalize relations with its neighbors – the Abraham Accords, the reconciliation with Arab countries, the joint commitment to security… But if we give up hope now that there will be a shared, secure life for the people in the Middle East – for everyone – then terrorism will have won. It is the task of German foreign policy and German domestic policy to prevent precisely this. ‘Never again!’ means standing up for Israel’s security, for protecting Jewish life in Germany. ‘Never again!’ means doing the right thing every day and not what is convenient.”
Our time in Munich brought back feelings of a horrific past mixed with a future brimming with potential. I have been around the world, and Munich is one of the most amazing cities I have ever visited. But would we ever want to return there? That question is just too complex for this rocket scientist.
Good things,
Ari Sacher
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