Jewish community in the Netherlands is still in shatters. We are still searching for a handhold since the ShoahIn Hebrew, Shoah means ‘catastrophe’. There are many words Jews and other persecuted groups use for what is commonly called the Holocaust. Yiddish speakers often use the term Ḥurban, which is also used for the destruction of the second temple and the expulsion from Jerusalem. The International Romani Union uses the term ‘samudaripen’, which means ‘mass killing’. Holocaust once meant a burnt sacrifice to a god. More. We are rebuilding our joy, our families, our places, our connections to the past and future. Many of us feel lonely and isolated. We often wonder who we can turn to, who we can speak to, who won’t trivialize our fears or demand our conformity.
There is a reason so many Jews in the Netherlands have ties to Israel. When 5000 of us returned from the camps and others of us came out of hiding, we didn’t find a society relieved to have us back, but one that resented our survival. For many Jews, then, Israel feels like a place where we can be at home or find a safe haven when solidarity is lacking here. The question we ask is how can we be at home here, in the place where we live?
When we demand doykeitDoykeit (דאָיִקייט) means ‘hereness’ in Yiddish. What a word! It’s a reminder of the impact of Jewish socialist movements throughout Europe, which believed in our hereness, our place here in Europe, in solidarity among those most vulnerable. Mokum means place in Yiddish and Hebrew (makom מקום). In the Netherlands, Mokum also refers to Amsterdam. In fact, Mokum Alef refers to Amsterdam and Mokum Reish to Rotterdam. More, hereness, a home here, we also plea for solidarity. This solidarity is one that understands and acknowledges that state power often uses the Jewish community as a buffer to hide its own injustices and shield it from anger. This solidarity supports our right to a homeland right here where we live.
The solidarity we dream of is space for our community to heal and thrive. This solidarity embraces imperfection, mistakes and exploration, trial and error, growth and growing pains. It’s a generosity extended from one to another; an outstretched hand, waiting to be grasped. Please be patient.
The solidarity we ask for is the understanding that as people and as communities, we are vulnerable and fragile. We cannot grow into a healthy community if we are forced to cut off parts of ourselves.