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A New Beginning?

Germany Is Moving Past Its Past

Berlin's Holocaust Memorial

Forty Years German-Israeli Relations

You Don't Like Israel? So What!

Anti-Semitism, Clichés, Free Speech

Young Germans and Jews

In Memoriam Paul Spiegel

Religious Tolerance? in Germany?

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A New Beginning?

Seventy years after Hitler's ascendance and 60 years after the Holocaust, Germany is the one nation with the fastest-growing Jewish community in the world.

Its active Jewish community has grown to 200.000 (with another 70,000 applicants waiting for their papers from the former Soviet territories), from only 15.000 at the end of World War II and 30,000 at the end of the 1980s. Germany's prewar Jewish community had numbered half a million.

"Today, more than 60 years after the Holocaust, it is hard to grasp the similarities between Germans and Jews, which in the space of 12 short years became the source of a genocidal antipathy," wrote Mark M. Anderson, a professor of German literature at Columbia University, in the weekly Forward in July 2005. "Historically, this is perhaps the cruelest legacy of the German Jews: the fact that they were profoundly and inescapably German."

And in a milestone for Germany's ever-expanding Jewish community, three new rabbis will be ordained at the Dresden Synagogue on September 13 and 14, 2006, as more Jews are moving to Germany than into any other country, Israel included. Up until now, 23 rabbis, educated mostly in the United States, Israel, and England, have led the estimated 200,000 Jews who make their home in Germany.

Michael Blumenthal (pictured left), the director of Berlin's Jewish Museum, believes that this situation is "highly paradoxical." According to Blumenthal, "Jews play a more important role now than they ever played before 1933. It is a vibrant community. Judaism in Germany is 'in' and Berlin's Jewish Museum is the most visited museum in all of Germany." But adds Blumenthal, "The relationship between Jews and non-Jews in Germany is not normal; it is a nervous one, not an easy and open one. It remains a heritage of the Shoah. German Jews are thin-skinned and always alert to Anti-Semitism. They are very sensitive. German non-Jews never criticize anything that has to do with Jews. They see the Jews foremost as Jews and only then as Germans. When I go to Germany, I go as an American and return as a Jew. But Germany is happy to welcome Jews back and happy to have them. But the Jewish community is not a happy place and faces a lot of internal pressure. I hope that Jews and non-Jews learn to interact as people, as German citizens. But that will take another generation."

Daniel Haw, head of Schachar, a Jewish theater in Hamburg, is ambivalent about the fact that Germans show such interest in the past and in the murdered Jews and less in the victims' grand- and great-grandchildren, "the bearers of Jewish life and Jewish culture." Germans, Haw claims, are much more interested in the past than in the present or the future. They know nothing about Jewish customs and rituals. "They are only interested in the bigger picture and not in the details."

Newsweek International (July 14, 2003) labeled Germany's growing Jewish population a "Return of the Jews." Germany has become the fastest growing Jewish community in Europe and the third largest in Western Europe, following France and Britain. More than 80 Jewish congregations have been revived. "The Jews in Germany have unpacked their suitcases," says Gideon Joffe, the new leader of the Jewish congregation in Berlin. Not everyone, however, seems pleased. "We expected Jews," is one complaint, "but got Russians."

"Whatever the meaning," claims the magazine, "a chance for atonement or victims' revenge, Germany is home to Jews once more." And The Economist wrote (May 2005), "Germany now has Europe's third-largest Jewish population....[Twice] as many Jews from the former Soviet republics settled in Germany as in Israel, bringing the total inflow to more than 200.000 since 1991. About half have joined a settled Jewish community, of which there are now more than 100, with a total of 100.000 members — up from 30.000 before unification. Some German cities have seen a revival of Jewish culture, particularly Berlin, where 3.000 Israelis also live."

But can one actually speak of a "normalization" between Germans and Jews, and Germans and Israelis in particular? Not according to the German novelist Günter Grass.

"I hate [this] word. What does it mean?" fumed Grass in an interview with Tel Aviv's Yediot Aharonot (Dec. 24, 2004). "What frightens me most are people who claim they're 'normal'. They're dangerous. What has to normalize? The wounds are too deep and recent history casts too long a shadow — not only in Israel but in Germany as well. One has to ask Israelis and, for different reasons, Germans: 'Have you learned anything from the past?' But I fear that until this day, this question has to be answered in the negative."

Nevertheless, in 2003, Germany passed Israel as the leading destination for Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union: according to Newsweek, 19,262 admissions compared with 18,878 for Israel and fewer than 10,000 for the United States. "This makes Germany the one nation with the fastest-growing Jewish community in the world," states UPI (June 5, 2004). "Thanks to these developments, I believe there is a good chance for the emergence of a new German Jewry," says the historian Julius H. Schoeps, head of the Moses Mendelssohn Center for European-Jewish Studies in Potsdam by Berlin. He describes the quintessential Jewish immigrant in Germany as "a mathematician from, say, St. Petersburg."

To stem Jewish immigration from Russia to Germany, only German-speakers under 45 will be accepted as Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union as of January 2006, the German government announced at the end of 2004. It is expected that this way, more Russian Jews will chose Israel as their destination. According to the General Secretary of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, Stephan Kramer, the German Jewish community has "neither the financial means nor the manpower" to integrate so many immigrants. He considers the immigration from Russia a burden, "which endangers the existence of [our] communities."

In addition to the many Russian Jews, who have been coming to Germany, thousands of Israelis, whose parents had fled to Palestine during the Nazi era, are now claiming German passports to which they are entitled by German law; the reason may be that they seek an escape route from the economic and political hardships in Israel.

According to the German Embassy in Tel Aviv, in 2004 alone, 3,164 Israelis received German citizenship. More than 96% of those received their German passports under a law that automatically grants German-Jewish Holocaust survivors and their descendants the right to hold German citizenship. How many of those actually moved to Germany or another EU country is not known.

A frank, yet painful dialogue between Germans, German Jews and Israelis has started. An honest public discourse is replacing Germany's self-pitying sentimentalism, ceaseless self-criticism and underlying intellectual jealousy. Germans talk with, and about Jews with more ease; they have replaced palliated language with facts. Gone are the times, when they spoke of the Shtetl as a "vanished" place, rather than a place that was destroyed, and consequently adopted melancholic clezmer music as the sole representative of Jewish culture. Or when they spoke about Holocaust victims as if they went "like cattle to the gas chambers," without facing up to the fact that Germany's Jews were slaughtered by the Nazis — who were Germans, too.

Coming to terms with history was made too easy in postwar Germany. The bad conscience was hastily appeased and patriotism was superseded by collective guilt. To avoid embarrassment, one never spoke freely to a Jew or an Israeli. Jews and Judaism were considered to be such sacral and symbol-laden subjects, better kept behind glass. One tried to avoid controversial subjects in public for fear of being labeled an anti-Semite, and society failed to acknowledge that deep-rooted anti-Semitism was still alive in Germany. Neonazi parties were quickly banned, rather than dealt with publicly. Nazi and Neonazi literature, symbols and artwork were ignored, rather than scrutinized and picked apart. And on the outside, it seemed that fascist and Nazi ideology had miraculously vanished with the arrival of the allies.

But it did not. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, it became painfully clear that much work had yet to be done; memorials and museums, though laudable, wouldn't erase old evils.

Germans started to deal "with the enemy within," as other countries had done, or, as the British newsmagazine The Economist wrote in an essay entitled "Germany and Its Jews (June 15, 2002), "…A new generation [was] coming along…. Not for them the sackcloth and ashes of their fathers and repentance for crimes they did not commit. They do not want to forget the past. But they want to speak their minds freely, express pride in their country, and have 'normal' relations with Jews and Israel…. Their readiness to break literary and political taboos suggests that Germans may slowly be starting to shed their inability to talk candidly about the present without being inhibited by their past."

Now that Germany's Jewish community has grown, there is a real tangible partner for dialogue. These are not "Mitbürger" ("associate citizens") or exotic fish swimming against the stream anymore — but Germans who happen to be Jewish. On January 27, 2003, a state treaty was signed between the German Government and the Central Council of Jews in Germany, stating that the Council would receive — as other religious communities in Germany do — a fixed sum of 3 million euro as part of the federal budget.

According to a 2003 survey by the American Jewish Committee on German attitudes toward Jews, 48 percent of the surveyed Germans expressed neutral feelings about Jews, 59 percent agreed that many people in Germany were afraid to express their true feelings about Jews, and 40 percent believed that now, as in the past, Jews exerted too much influence on world events. In addition, 45 percent agreed that money played a more important role for Jews than for other people. Seventy-nine percent of the surveyed Germans admitted that they personally didn't know anyone who was Jewish.

And as many as 60 percent of Germans say they are tired of being reminded of their country's crimes against the Jews (The Economist, May 2005).

For further reading:

"Focus On: Germany's Jews Today" compiled by the United Jewish Agency (UJA) Federation, New York.

Not A New Beginning—an analysis by Rabbi Walter Rothschild, Berlin, on the State Treaty between the German Government and the Central Council of Jews in Germany.

Survey conducted by The American Jewish Committee on German attitudes toward Jews (2002).

"Berlin-Judentum", an English-language information portal on Jewish life in Berlin, compiled by hagalil.com.

Healing the Wounds of WWII—German-Jewish Reconciliation
A program of the "Compassionate Listening Project"

"Rewriting Germany's Nazi Past — A Society in Moral Decline" by Manfred Gerstenfeld, Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs

(in German) "Leben im Zwiespalt — das neue Selbstbewusstsein der jüdischen Deutschen" by Michal Bodemann, Die Zeit, Jan. 26, 2006

Jewish Life in Germany, German Embassy, Washington

Book: Being Jewish in the New Germany, by Jeffrey M. Peck.

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Germany Is Moving Past Its Past

After 17 years of planning, Berlin is finally building its long anticipated and fiercely debated Holocaust Memorial.

Not so fast, though. In November 2003, the construction of Berlin's Holocaust memorial was temporarily halted, because it was discovered that Degussa—one of the many suppliers of construction materials for the memorial, specifically the paint that was used as primer for the pillars (see picture above)—was an affiliate of the now defunct company Dagesh that supplied the deadly Zyklon B poison gas to the concentration camps.

This event marked a turning point in German-Jewish relations.

Opinions—among survivors and among the non-Jewish board of the memorial alike—were sharply divided whether the construction should continue, with Degussa on board, or whether part of the construction had to be redone. Some survivors said that they could never visit the memorial knowing that Degussa was involved in its construction. But there were also many among Berlin's Jewish Community who stressed they didn't care.

The head of Berlin's Jewish Community, Alexander Brenner, spoke out against a continued involvement with Degussa. In the end, however, the board overruled his veto and decided on November 13, 2003, to go ahead with the construction as planned.

Salomon Korn, vice president of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, believes that the board's decision was "a generational thing," and he admitted, "The generation before us couldn't have accepted that."

The fact that the board had ruled against the wishes of Brenner and members of the Jewish community was seen as a sign. A positive sign that Germany, where most citizens were born after the war, was on its way to commemorate its past as it deems fitting. Many German-Jews and non-Jews alike applauded the board's decisiveness; but there were also critics who lamented that the victims were denied their veto in a blatant lack of respect.

In the past, German Jews were regarded as the barometer on which Germany measured the treatment of sensitive issues related to the past and the Holocaust. Decisions regarding these "sensitive issues" were usually brought before the Jewish community, which gave them a "kosher stamp". Or not. And if the community objected, its veto was accepted: German Jews were given a de-facto right to intervene only because of the fact that they were Jews. That was then.

Now, according to Markus Krah, writing in The Jerusalem Report (January 26, 2004) under the headline "Moving On," the fact that the board decided against the will of many German Jews, "may symbolize an important rite of passage in Germany's postwar maturing process: the self-confidence to decide on its own in moral questions related to its Nazi past.... Germany has internalized its responsibility for the Holocaust, to the point were it feels capable of determining for itself, even over Jewish objections, the most appropriate ways to memorize the victims."

It might seem as too optimistic a view that Germany finally feels secure in its self-awareness toward the past. Has the battle cry "never forget!" become obsolete in a country where remembering the past is already so deeply ingrained?

There are, of course, those who dispute this notion. Then there are others who feel that the country has earned full independence and maturity, which, in their eyes, is crucial to true reconciliation.

This state of mind mirrors what the late chairman of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, Ignatz Bubis, had always hoped for: "The Federal Republic owes it to itself to [remember the past]. The memorial is a project of the Germans. German Jews don't need it."

In December 2004, the last of the 2,751 concrete blocks was put in place, completing the construction of the memorial above ground.

It was officially opened by Chancellor Gerhard Schröder on May 10, 2005.

For further reading:

Germans, Jews and History, Special Online report from PBS/Frontline (May 2005)

The German and Jewish Intellectual Émigré Collection, University at Albany

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Berlin’s Holocaust Memorial

On May 10, 2005, on the 60th anniversary of Germany's capitulation and the end of World War II, Berlin's Holocaust Memorial, the largest of its kind in the world, was inaugurated.

In the first year since its opening, 3.5 million people have visited the memorial and it has become one of Berlin's largest tourist magnets.

"The memorial...is aimed at future generations with the message: Shame is a moment in our human dignity", said the president of the Bundestag and chairperson of the foundation overseeing the construction of the memorial, Wolfgang Thierse, and he added: "Out of the political-pragmatic thinking of our unfathomable crime-ridden history grows an obligation for the presence and a wherewithal for the future."

The monument is made up of 2,711 concrete pillars in different heights, suggestive of tombstones or a huge wheat field, rippled by the wind.

The visitor, who alone chooses which way to cross the huge undulating plain, gets lost among the pillars, and the memorial is meant to evoke a feeling of loneliness and unease. This memorial demands from its visitors to think for themselves. They are not taken by the hand, force-fed with guilt and released cleansed.

The memorial is situated in the heart of Berlin — flanked by the Reichstag's building that was torched by the Nazis and houses now the German Bundestag, and by the Brandenburg Gate. Part of the construction sits right on top of Hitler's destroyed bunker. The memorial, according to The Economist, "seems to say: 'We acknowledge our guilt; lets look into the future.' "

What makes this memorial special is that it is not trying to be nice, to be pleasant to the eye, easy to grasp, a man-made tranquil place to drop off flower bouquets — and then to move on. This is a memorial where people can reflect, but it is also a place where children will play hide and seek, where young people will skateboard or where someone will spray paint swastikas on the pillars.

Some people cringe at the thought that the memorial will be desecrated. But I believe that would only bring out into the open what was already simmering below the surface: prejudice, hatred — but compassion and solidarity as well. This is a memorial in the heart of a city, and it will be "lived in" accordingly. It will adjust itself to its surroundings and it will change those who will study it closely. It can become a gathering place; it can become a symbol of freedom of speech.

There will continue to be a lively debate in favor and against the monument. The more, the better. Nothing could serve its purpose better: Because that proves that this monument is not just a kitschy fixture that you pass daily, yet never notice. As Peter Eisenman, the architect, once said: If everyone were to love the monument, it would mean it hasn't fulfilled its purpose.

Likewise, the memorial can only work in conjunction with the preservation of all the remaining authentic places, where the murder of the European Jews did actually take place: the concentration camps, the labor camps, the extermination camps, the ramps and the train stations, from where they were all sent to their death.

"The memorial has become socialized into the German psyche six months after its opening, with a million and a half people visiting in one year," said Eisenman in a speech at the Leo Baeck Institute's annual meeting in New York, on November 8, 2005. "I think it is clear that Germans will use the place as they wish — as a meeting place, as a destination for a school trip, as a solemn spot for contemplation. [...]
I wanted this Memorial to be a Mahnmal not a Denkmal, a warning more than a remembrance."

For further reading:

Foundation for the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

Förderkreis Denkmal für die Ermordeten Juden Europas

NS-Gedenkstätten und Dokumentationszentren in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland

Germany's "Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe" Special Online Report from PBS/Frontline (May 2005)

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2005: Forty Years German-Israeli Diplomatic Relations

The diplomatic relations between Israel and Germany are strong, much stronger than the bond between Germans and American Jews. But tensions with Israel over Germany's relations and its solidarity with the Palestinians are growing.

Shimon Stein, the Israeli Ambassador in Germany, sees a problem in Germany's ambition for normality. He feels it is triggering a lack of empathy toward Israel and its unique security problems. But he also acknowledges the deep cooperation between Christian-Jewish and German-Israeli organizations. (pictured above: a special stamp issued by the Israeli Postal Office celebrating 40 years of relations with Germany.)

According to a recently published opinion poll conducted by the European Union, however, 65% of the Germans polled see in Israel a country that endangers world peace, in fact more than any other country in the world. This percentage is much higher than the average in other European countries.

The relationship between the two countries is rooted mainly in history, in the past and less in the present or future. "In the eyes of many Germans, Israel's very existence reminds them of the Holocaust," writes Eldad Beck in Yediot Acharonot (May 6, 2005). And many Israelis believe that Germany sees the Jewish state as some sort of colonial entity and tries to meddle in Israel's internal affairs. German think tanks tend to support political organizations in Israel that are mainly leaning to the left.

German officials feel that Israelis — especially Israeli politicians — often take Germany's loyalty and solidarity for granted and don't even try to improve this unique relationship. According to Yediot Acharonot, Ariel Sharon twice canceled a visit to Berlin at the last moment. Many Israeli politicians don't even think of scheduling a stopover in Berlin on their way to the United States, and only few of them met with German parliamentarians who recently visited Jerusalem.

For further reading:

"Anniversary Year 2005: Forty Years of German-Israeli Relations", German Embassy, Washington

Fact-Sheet, 40 Years Diplomatic Relations, published by the German Embassy in Washington

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You Don’t Like Israel? So What!

Until not long ago, it wasn't politically correct to criticize Israel in Germany. Now, 40 years after the establishment of official German-Israeli relations, apparently it is.

Germany and Israel have had a long and painful period of reconciliation, but their diplomatic relationship has deepened over the years. In that spirit, Israel's then-prime minister Ehud Barak was the first foreign dignitary who in September 1999 paid a visit to the newly reconstructed German Parliament in the former Reichstag building in Berlin. Later, German Chancellor Gerhard Schröder and Barak attended a memorial service in Sachsenhausen concentration camp. During this visit, for the first time in history, Israeli soldiers formed a military honor guard, side by side with German soldiers, on German soil.

The political, cultural and economic ties are strong: An increasing number of Israelis (498 in January 2002, double the number of the entire year before) have applied for German citizenship, just in case the situation in the Middle East gets out of hand and they will need to get out. According to The Economist (May 7, 2005), 3.000 Israelis live in Berlin.

Jürgen Möllemann, the former deputy head of Germany's liberal party FDP and chairman of the German-Arab Association, who died June 5, 2003, in what was believed to be a suicide, was an increasingly vocal and not very compassionate critic of Israel. There is good and bad in this development. The good news is that earnest, well-founded criticism is healthy and two partners have to be frank with each other, even to the point when old clichés surface, as when Möllemann attacked the "Jewish" character of Michel Friedman, vice president of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, and suggested Israel and the Jews should have learned better from their near extinction during the Holocaust.

The public debate that ensued was refreshing; it brought into the open what really should be cause for alarm: namely that underlying anti-Semitic feelings in Germany are all too easily painted over with anti-Israel or anti-Zionist remarks. It broke long-held taboos, pushed people to take a stance, to rethink loyalties. The public outcry let FDP leader Guido Westerwelle, after much hesitation, to offer some level of damage control.

But this kind of political discourse should not be turned into an element of calculation in the political parties' run-up to September's general elections; it shouldn't be considered a political commodity and platform for prejudices. A politician should be frank, but cautious. You don't like Israel? So what! Just play it fair. The public, however, should stay alert, because a politician holds a position of power.

But what about an artist? Do the same rules apply to him or her as well? Renowned German writer Martin Walser, who has shown time and again a pitiful lack of tact and manners toward Jews, was at it again. His new book features the murder of a Jew, who readers recognize as Germany's famous literary critic, Marcel Reich-Ranicki, a Jew. Walser's book was labeled hateful and anti-Semitic.

I believe an artist has more leeway than a politician, who is a publicly elected representative. If Italians or French can be "killed off" in a novel, why not a Jew? The book is either bad or good on its literary merits. If it is indeed anti-Semitic, somebody should write a better book that counters it. Artists reflect reality. If there is still a hint of anti-Semitism in Germany, German literature will reflect that as well. However, if the book were considered anti-Semitic propaganda per se, which is an entirely different matter, wouldn't it be interesting to see how many people actually admit to having read it?

Germans shouldn't fear controversy, because the German democracy is stable, has many checks and balances in place and the public is alert. But this constant public discourse is demanding: it requires devotion, honesty and courage. Stay clear of complacency.

For further reading:

"The Fassbinder Affair"

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Anti-Semitism, Old Clichés,
and Free Speech

Anti-Semitic attacks seem on the rise in Germany. A German rabbi even went so far as to advise his brethren not to display signs of their faith, like skullcaps and necklaces with the Star of David, for fear of being attacked, following two recent street assaults on Jews in Berlin.

In the first half of 2002 alone, more than 20 Jewish cemeteries were desecrated throughout Germany. Many of those attacks are political, and not racist by nature, which doesn't make them less severe. But regardless, any anti-Semitic and xenophobic attack has to be fought with more than just good intentions. People have to speak out openly against hate, protect those who need protection.

I am against prohibiting right-wing parties, because only if they're out in the open can we fight them. We have to see our enemy in the face, speak out and show integrity.

To that end, Paul Spiegel, the president of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, has collaborated in an Internet-based initiative, under the banner "Show Your Face" (Gesicht Zeigen), urging everybody to counter hate crimes by active deeds. Numerous German media outlets have joined the effort to speak out against hate mongers and their followers.
According to a recent opinion poll conducted by Hamburg's liberal newsmagazine Der Spiegel, 49 percent of Germans believe that Germany has a special responsibility toward Jews.

In 1991, this number was 33 percent. So, the public dialogue has strengthened, rather than hindered the relationship between Germans, German Jews and Israelis. Still, 71 percent believe that the majority of Germans are afraid to criticize Jews. I believe that in order to find out if old clichés, fears, and prejudices still linger, we have to encourage a frank dialogue. Even if it hurts.

For further reading:

Kafka — Zeitschrift für Mitteleuropa, "Antisemitismus", 14/2004

"Anti-Semitism in Germany Today: Its Roots and Tendencies," by Susanne Urban, Jewish Political Studies Review, Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs, Fall 2004

Anti-Semitism and Racism in Germany (2002 and 2003)—compiled and analyzed by the Steven Roth Institute, Tel Aviv University, Israel

Speech by Joschka Fischer, Minister for Foreign Affairs
of the Federal Republic of Germany to the Anti-Defamation League Conference on Global Anti-Semitism (2002).

Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) Conference on Anti-Semitism held in Vienna, June 2003.

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Young Germans and Young Jews: It’s Up To You

The German-Jewish relationship needs to build on the future, the living, without dismissing the past. Young Christian Germans and young German Jews will have to talk to get acquainted. Not everything is black and white.

German-Jewish dialogue has to focus increasingly on the young generation from both sides. The younger generation is the future. We have to make sure that they are not driven anymore by the burdens of the past when dealing with each other. To their advantage, their connotations with history are different than the ones of their parents.

The younger generation in Germany and in Israel is able to interact more easily with each other. With the increasing Jewish population in Germany, young Germans have now finally the chance to face Jews and Judaism more often and more naturally, without fear, shame or embarrassment. Even so, many young Germans still encounter Jews and Judaism mostly—and too often, only—through history lessons in school, where Jews and Judaism are mentioned only in the context of the Holocaust and victimhood. Most pupils never meet, let alone, talk to a Jew of their age. Only when a Jew becomes a classmate and a friend, or even an enemy, can normalcy begin.

An effort to understand one another is being made by the Kaufmann-Marx Foundation, a nonprofit foundation based in New York, which encourages young Germans to understand American Jews. The foundation publishes booklets for use in history classes in German schools that bring the stories of young Jewish Americans, their fears and hopes, to the pupils. These booklets are slowly becoming part of the mainstream curriculum in German schools.

My essay Sprache als Brücke—Die Zukunft von Geschichte (in German), appeared in one of those booklets. In a language that teenagers can relate to, I tried to convey my thoughts concerning the power of words. I deal with words, and I am aware that a word can be misused as a weapon.

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In Memoriam Paul Spiegel:
Leading German Jewry

Paul Spiegel, the late president of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, initially had a tough time filling the shoes of his predecessor, Ignatz Bubis. But then, that never was his intention.

Now it will be even more challenging to find a successor for him.

Spiegel died on April 30th, 2006, at the age of 68. He was likely the last German Jewish leader born in the Holocaust generation.

Spiegel, who seemed at first glance "dull and inconspicuous" but then proved to be "full of humor and wit," according to Jacques Schuster of Berlin's conservative Die Welt, survived the Holocaust as a child hidden by Christian farmers in Belgium.

A talent agent by profession, Spiegel lead the Jewish community in the state of North Rhine-Westphalia and worked as an assistant to Bubis. "He will be a man of consensus," predicted Berlin's leftist taz after his election in 2000; "a man who is well aware of his limitations."

Spiegel was a "go-between" in the transition before the younger generation takes over. "[Spiegel] regards Bubis as his 'shining example,'" wrote the liberal Frankfurter Rundschau. Yet he never shared Bubis's pessimism about the future of German-Jewish relations. And unlike him, Spiegel was a team player who involved as many people as possible in the work of the Central Council.

One of Spiegel's biggest challenges was the integration of Jews from the former Soviet Union, who now make up 80% of the German Jewish Community. And he never tired to address German-Jewish normalization—the ability to mutually remember the past while looking ahead—which was "tedious work" and a personal quest to finalize the vision of his predecessor.

However, Spiegel did not emulate his predecessor's role as Germany's national conscience about the crimes of the Holocaust. "I won't be as omnipresent as [Bubis]," Spiegel was quick to state. "You see, I have a family."

But, then again, he was the voice of German Jewry and as such very much needed and never inconspicuous.

Read an obituary honoring the memory of Paul Spiegel that was published in Frankfurt's German-Jewish quarterly Tribüne (the article is in German).

Tolerance? Dealing with Headscarves and Kippot

How much foreign culture are Germans willing to absorb without losing their identity? Anything "Jewish" goes and is willingly embraced—but what about the religious and cultural identity of other minorities?

In dealing with issues concerning Germany's 3.5 million Muslims, many Christian Germans are still very reluctant to accept the unknown in their midst. And the German media eagerly mirror the debate.

Take for example Fereshta Ludin (top left), an Afghan-born Muslim teacher in southern Germany, who has fought a five-year legal battle over her right to wear her headscarf (hijab) in school.

On Sept. 24, 2003, the German Federal Constitutional Court finally ruled that she was entitled to wear her hijab in class. But the ruling, "one of the greatest challenges for the German jurisdiction" (Der Spiegel, Sept. 29), left it to Germany's 16 states to decide if, and how, to enforce the law. Seven states have already declared that they would not allow the hijab in their schools.

The vague ruling prompted the editors of Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (Sept. 25) to accuse the court of "dodging the issue" and reaching a decision contradicting its 1995 ruling that schools in mainly Catholic states could not be required to hang crucifixes in classrooms. Martin Klingst, writing in Die Zeit (Sept. 25) under the headline "Cowardly Judges," lamented that the ruling hadn't gone further, and called it a "timid, narrow-minded, and outdated decree [that] denies Muslim women legal protection of their rights."

Unveiling Prejudices

Several European countries have already struggled with similar dilemmas. Judging from the media's reactions in Germany, however, the fiercely debated "patchwork of headscarf rulings," as it is referred to, has a far greater significance and historic meaning in a country hardly known for its racial and cultural diversity.

Commentators were deeply divided among those who consider the hijab a symbol of gender oppression that has no place in German schools, those who want to maintain the separation between church and state, and those who accept religious symbols as an integral part of a multicultural, open society where the individual rights and personal beliefs of at least 3.2 million Muslims ought to be respected. (Above: the March 2003 issue of World Press Review, whose cover story included reactions from the European press on the so-called "Headscarf Debate").

Namo Aziz, a Muslim commentator writing in Die Zeit (Oct. 2, 2003), vehemently rejected the last position. "I wouldn't let my child be educated by a woman wearing the hijab, and I believe that mosques belong only in Arab countries. The ruling has shown an indifference to gender oppression in Islamic societies. Those who allow the hijab in German schools should also permit punishments according to the Shariah, like lashing, amputation, and stoning to death. And perhaps we should allow Hindus to scatter the ashes of their dead in the Rhein? In this absurd Germany, anything is possible."

Margrit Gerste, writing in the same paper (Sept. 25), didn't go that far but basically agreed: "An open, liberal multicultural society depends on neutrality. Therefore: No headscarf, please!" And Der Spiegel, in its 14-page cover story (Sept. 29), remarked bluntly: "The Muslim teacher asked for tolerance in the name of intolerance....To tolerate the hijab would mean to underestimate the aggressive craving for legitimacy of fundamentalism. It has to be stopped before it turns violent....The oppression of girls is now manifested by law." The article gave the impression that wearing the hijab would eventually lead to terror, ignoring millions of peaceful religious Muslims.

"We're talking about a headscarf, not a veil," argued Heribert Prantl in Süddeutsche Zeitung (Sept. 25). "The question is how much foreign religion our society is willing to accept. The court's ruling marks the beginning of a legitimate public discourse and is not a 'headscarf-über-alles-debate.' " Armin Adam, writing in the same paper (Sept. 29), agreed. "The court has ruled that in a pluralistic society, no one has a right to be spared symbols of foreign faiths….A ruling against the hijab today could mean a ruling against a kippah [skullcap], or a cross on a necklace, tomorrow."

The court's vague ruling, however, "has failed to draw the line between religious, cultural individuality and the promotion of missionary work," opined Vera Gaserow in Frankfurter Rundschau (Sept. 25). In addition, fumed Clemens Wergin writing for Der Tagesspiegel (Sept. 25): The fact that each state is free to enforce different laws will produce "first- and second-class Muslims in Germany: those who are allowed to work for the state while wearing a hijab, and those who are not."

Many commentators debated if the hijab would encourage Muslim fundamentalism, a view that Navid Kermani, a Muslim, angrily repudiated in Die Tageszeitung (Oct. 9). "Don't call me 'a moderate' and insist you're only referring to fundamentalists. I'm no Uncle Tom. But I am part of 'those barbarians.' To imply that wearing a hijab proves fundamentalist tendencies and a willingness to be oppressed is defamation. You promote a climate where women wearing a hijab will be spat at and ordered to return to the mullahs."

But the hijab wasn't really the issue, wrote Martin Klingst in Die Zeit (Sept. 25). "What matters is who chooses to wear it….Banning religious symbols from classrooms won't promote neutrality-but a sterile environment."

For further reading:

Official Ruling of The Federal Constitutional Court (Bundesverfassungsgericht). Complete text in German.

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