"Auschwitz did not suddenly fall from the sky," Marian Turski / Moishe Turbowicz, 98-year-old Auschwitz Survivor

 

“Auschwitz did not suddenly fall from the sky.
Auschwitz crept up, tiptoed along with small steps, moved closer and closer, until the things that happened here began.

Thou shalt not be indifferent in the face of lies about history.

Thou shalt not be indifferent when the past is distorted for today’s political needs.

Thou shalt not be indifferent when any minority faces discrimination.

Thou shalt not be indifferent when any authority violates the existing social contract.

Be faithful to this commandment. The Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt not be indifferent.”

Marian Turski, Polish-Jewish Holocaust survivor

birth name: Moshe Turbowicz

Esteemed gathered people, friends, I am one of those still alive and few who were in this place almost until the last moment before liberation. On January 18, my so-called evacuation from the Auschwitz camp began, which after six and a half days turned out to be a Death March for more than half of my fellow prisoners. We were together in a 600-person column. In all probability, I will not live to see another anniversary. Such are human rights.

 

So forgive me if there will be some emotion in what I will say. This is what I would like to say first of all to my daughter, my granddaughter, whom I thank for being here in the hall, my grandson: I am talking about those who are the same age as my daughter, my grandchildren, and so about the new generation, especially the youngest, the very youngest, even younger than them.

 

When the World War broke out, I was a teenager. My father was a soldier and was badly shot in the lungs. It was a tragedy for our family. My mother came from the Polish-Lithuanian-Belarusian border, where armies rolled through, pillaging, plundering, raping, burning villages, so as not to leave anything for those who would come after them. So you could say that I knew first-hand, from my father and mother, what war was. But despite everything, although it was only 20, 25 years, it seemed as distant as the Polish uprisings of the 19th century, as the French Revolution.

 

When I meet young people today, I realize that after 75 years they seem a little tired of this topic: war, the Holocaust, the Shoah, and genocide. I understand them. That is why I promise you, young people, that I will not tell you about my suffering. I will not tell you about my experiences, my two Death Marches, how I ended the war weighing 32 kilograms, on the verge of exhaustion and life. I will not tell you about what was the worst, the tragedy of separation from loved ones, when after the selection you sense what awaits them. No, I will not talk about it. I would like to talk to my daughter's generation and my grandchildren's generation about yourselves.

 

I see that Mr. President of Austria Alexander Van der Bellen is among us. Do you remember, Mr. President, when you hosted me and the leadership of the International Auschwitz Committee, when we talked about those times? At one point you used the following phrase: "Auschwitz ist nicht vom Himmel gefallen". Auschwitz did not fall from the sky. We could say, as we say here: obvious obviousness.

 

Of course it didn't fall from the sky. This may seem like a trivial statement, but there is a profound and very important mental shortcut in it. Let's travel for a moment in our thoughts, in our imagination, to the early 1930s in Berlin. We are almost in the city center. The district is called Bayerisches Viertel, the Bavarian Quarter. Three stops from Kudamm, the zoo. Where the metro station is today, there is Bayerischer Park - Bavarian Park. And then one day in those early 1930s a sign appears on the benches: "Jews are not allowed to sit on these benches." You could say: unpleasant, unfair, it's not OK, but after all there are so many benches around, you can sit somewhere else, there is no misfortune.

 

It was a district inhabited by German intelligentsia of Jewish origin, Albert Einstein, Nobel Prize winner Nelly Sachs, industrialist, politician, and Foreign Minister Walther Rathenau lived there. Then a sign appeared in the swimming pool: "Jews are not allowed in this swimming pool." Again, you could say: it's not pleasant, but Berlin has so many places to swim, so many lakes, canals, almost Venice, so you can go somewhere else.

 

At the same time, a sign appears somewhere: "Jews are not allowed to belong to German singing associations". So what? They want to sing, make music, let them gather separately, they will sing. Then a sign and an order appears: "Jewish, non-Aryan children are not allowed to play with German, Aryan children". They will play by themselves. And then a sign appears: "We sell bread and food products to Jews only after 5 p.m.". This is already a complication, because there is less choice, but after all you can also shop after 5 p.m.

 

Attention, attention, we are starting to get used to the idea that someone can be excluded, that someone can be stigmatized, that someone can be alienated. And so slowly, gradually, day by day, people are starting to get used to it – both victims and perpetrators and witnesses, those we call bystanders , are starting to get used to the idea and thought that this minority that produced Einstein, Nelly Sachs, Heinrich Heine, the Mendelssohns, is different, that it can be pushed out of society, that these are alien people, that these are people who spread germs, epidemics. This is already terrible, dangerous. This is the beginning of what may happen in a moment.

 

The government of the time is on the one hand pursuing a clever policy, because, for example, it is meeting the workers' demands. May 1st has never been celebrated in Germany – here they are. On a day off from work, they are introducing Kraft durch Freude ["strength through joy"]. So an element of workers' holidays. They are able to overcome unemployment, they are able to play on national dignity: "Germany, rise from the shame of Versailles. Restore your pride". And at the same time, this government sees that people are slowly becoming numb, indifferent. They stop reacting to evil. And then the government can afford to further accelerate the process of evil.

 

And then it all comes suddenly, namely: a ban on hiring Jews for work, a ban on emigration. And then there will be quick sending to ghettos: to Riga, to Kaunas, to my ghetto, the Łódź ghetto – Litzmannstadt. From there, most will be sent to Kulmhof, Chełmno nad Nerem, where they will be murdered with exhaust gases in trucks, and the rest will go to Auschwitz, where they will be murdered with Zyklon B in modern gas chambers. And here, what the president said is true: “Auschwitz did not suddenly fall from the sky.” Auschwitz stomped, toddled with small steps, approached, until what happened here happened.

 

My daughter, my granddaughter, my daughter's peers, my granddaughter's peers – you may not know the name Primo Levi. Primo Levi was one of the most famous prisoners of this camp. Primo Levi once used the following phrase: "It happened, which means it can happen. It means it can happen everywhere, all over the world."

 

I will share with you one personal memory: in '65 I was on a scholarship in the United States in America and that was the height of the battle for human rights, for civil rights, for the rights of the African-American people. I had the honor of marching with Martin Luther King from Selma to Montgomery. And then people who learned that I had been in Auschwitz asked me: "Do you think that something like this could only happen in Germany? Could it happen somewhere else?" And I told them: "It can happen here. If you violate civil rights, if you don't appreciate the rights of minorities, if you eliminate them. If you bend the law, as they did in Selma, then this can happen." What to do? You yourselves, I told them, if you can defend the constitution, your rights, your democratic order, by defending the rights of minorities - then you can overcome it.

 

In Europe, we mostly come from the Judeo-Christian tradition. Both believers and non-believers accept the Ten Commandments as their canon of civilization. My friend, the president of the International Auschwitz Committee, Roman Kent, who spoke here five years ago during the previous anniversary, could not come here today. He came up with the 11th commandment, which is the experience of the Shoah, the Holocaust, the terrible era of contempt. It goes like this: do not be indifferent.

 

And this is what I would like to tell my daughter, this is what I would like to tell my grandchildren. My daughter's peers, my grandchildren's peers, wherever they live: in Poland, in Israel, in America, in Western Europe, in Eastern Europe. This is very important. Do not be indifferent when you see historical lies. Do not be indifferent when you see that the past is being stretched to suit current political needs. Do not be indifferent when any minority is discriminated against. The essence of democracy is that the majority rules, but democracy is that the rights of minorities must be protected. Do not be indifferent when any authority violates accepted social agreements, already existing. Be faithful to the commandment. Eleventh commandment: do not be indifferent.

 

Because if you do, you won't even realize that some Auschwitz will suddenly fall from the sky on you, on your descendants.

 

Source is here https://www.polityka.pl/tygodnikpolityka/kraj/1940080,1,marian-turski-auschwitz-nie-spadlo-z-nieba-nie-badzcie-obojetni.read