Peace is an odd concept. I’m not sure who came up with it, when, or how, but it’s strange that something unheard of in nature should be coveted so strongly by so many. There is no peace for the rabbit; there is no peace for the wolf. Why should there be peace for us?
On Sunday we went to the Holocaust Museum. I took it harder than I thought I would.
In contrast to other Holocaust museums I’ve visited (in New York, in DC…) and in contrast to the way the narrative was taught to me in high school, our tour of Yad Vashem did not end on a high note. Liberation was not the happy ending; it wasn’t even the ending. Survivors from Auschwitz, Dachau, and Treblinka did not get to go home. They ate until their pitiful stomachs burst, or they returned to repossessed houses, to decimated communities, to persecution, murder, and pogroms.
If there is one note of hope at the end of this tour, it’s the view of Israel at the end: a vista, heartbreakingly beautiful, of a country wrought from bloodshed, which must continually engage in bloodshed to survive, in a world where peace has not existed, does not exist, and never will.
The architecture of the museum is incredible. Every corner of every room, or lack thereof, was carefully designed to compliment the subject matter. Entering the children’s memorial was the most difficult part of the visit for me.
This was a well written article as always. Brings back memories.