The opening of a new museum by Yad Vashem is
an event to be honored by the entire Jewish world.
For Jerusalem to maintain its primacy, its
centrality, the innovative creation of the 1950s had
to be updated. If a museum does not evolve to meet
the task of its time, it withers. Witness the cruel
fate that has overtaken the Museum of the Diaspora.
Tom Segev has written of the competition between the
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum and Yad
Vashem, and Avner Shalev, its distinguished
director, has denied it. Both miss some important
points. Competition is good; institutions learn from
each other, they challenge each other.
When we contemplated creating the U.S. Holocaust
Memorial Museum, we looked to Yad Vashem as the
model of an integrated institution; a museum that
tells the story of the Holocaust, a research
institution and archive, and an educational
institution that teaches teachers and students the
history of the Holocaust, its meaning and
application to the new generation. And we certainly
tried to do better.
And over the dozen years since Washington opened,
the competition and cooperation with Yad Vashem has
improved and empowered both institutions. Yad Vashem
would not have been able to garner the support it
has to create so magnificent a building and a campus
without the looming presence of Washington.
The place from which you remember an event shapes
the nature of that memory. Every historical museum
is a dialogue between the historical event and the
audiences that walk through its portals. So the
story of the Shoah is told differently in Jerusalem
than the Holocaust is told in Washington or New
York, or the Final Solution is described in Berlin.
Event, perspective and audiences all subtly
influence the story that is told.
In earlier generations those who entered Yad Vashem
knew the story; they had lived the events described.
Thus, they could visit the memorial without seeing
the exhibition. The exhibition merely had to allude
to the events. Perpetrator artifacts would have been
inappropriate to introduce to the generation that
experienced this firsthand or whose parents were
victims. But a new generation has arisen - conceived
in freedom, unacquainted with exile - and to them
the events must be portrayed, directly and
graphically, far more graphically than was
appropriate then.
When Yad Vashem first opened, Israelis could be
confident that they knew the story, but after the
misuse of symbols of the Holocaust - not only by
Europeans and Arabs falsely and cruelly proclaiming
that Israel is the new Nazism, but by Israelis
accusing their own government of being Nazi-like and
wearing Jewish stars to protest the Gaza withdrawal
- our confidence should be shaken.
How is one to view a museum, to judge its success?
The modern historical museum tells a story with a
beginning, middle and an end, with emphasis and
intensity; the narrative carries visitors through
the museum. Like a symphony a museum must be
organic; themes must be presented and developed. The
institution is experienced whole by its visitors
even if - as is clearly the case with Yad Vashem -
it evolved over decades. How successfully will the
creators be able to weave all the elements of Yad
Vashem, its sculptural gardens, the Avenue of the
Righteous, the Children's Memorial, the Art Museum,
the Valley of Communities and Hall of Remembrance
into one complete experience? I do not envy them the
considerable challenge.
When I saw the new site during its creation I was
concerned about the nature of the interrelationship
between three primary actors in the Holocaust: the
perpetrators, the victims and the bystanders.
In Washington, we devoted considerable attention to
the bystanders, which is after all the American
story. The sites of destruction in Poland and
Germany show the nature of the crime and the
mechanisms of destruction. They don't quite grapple
with the perpetrator.
Yad Vashem is rightfully determined to present the
Jewish perspective, as was New York's Museum of
Jewish Heritage Holocaust memorial, but it must also
present - and I use these words with great precision
- the human story of the killers. This is essential.
So convinced are we Jews that the killers were
inhumane that we fail to confront the ultimate
scandal: They were human.
Will a visitor to the new Yad Vashem understand the
role of ideology and conformity, the desire not to
lose face before one's comrades, and the killers'
struggles to silence whatever conscience remained?
Will they see the killers as part of our world - and
thus a threat it - or apart from the world and thus
bearing no relevance to it?
The crime against the Jews must be central, but the
new museum must portray these crimes in context.
Concentration camps were first developed to
incarcerate German opponents of the regime; only
much later did Jews constitute a majority there.
Gassing was first used to kill German non-Jews who
were an embarrassment to the myth of the master
race. It was there that the role of bureaucratic
killer was first nurtured, that the leadership of
Belzec, Sobibor and Treblinka received their first
training. Jehovah's Witnesses were martyrs. They
could have been released from the camps had they
renounced their faith. They died rather than
convert; Jews had no such choice. Will Jewish memory
be large enough to be both Judeocentric and
inclusive?
Will the new museum with all of its power reach the
multiple audiences that visit - Jews and non-Jews,
Israelis and non-Israelis, Europeans and Americans,
Israeli soldiers who must understand the raison
d'etre of the state and of Jewish power, and who
stand accused, falsely and viciously, by some in the
West and in the Arab and Muslim world, of being the
new Nazis? Will they understand - as American West
Point Cadets and Naval Midshipmen are taught in
Washington - the importance of military ethics, of
recognizing the humanity of the enemy even while
undertaking action against them? Great museums
address multiple audiences of diverse sensibilities
and contain enough to reach different visitors and
touch their souls in diverse ways.
A generation ago it may have been sufficient to
learn from the Shoah that the whole world is against
us, that powerlessness invites victimization and
thus the Jewish people must rely upon themselves and
only themselves and assume adequate power to
preserve themselves in the contemporary world. Those
lessons are still valid, but not sufficient.
The challenges are many, the difficulties are great,
the pitfalls obvious. It takes the endurance of a
marathon runner to plan for years and bring it all
together for a moment. It takes courage to open a
museum - courage, wisdom and vision. I wish my
colleagues well. I look forward to seeing their
creation.