The Shoah (Holocaust) is central to the Israeli psyche. Unlike most historical events whose influence gradually recedes, it is fair to say that the influence of this series of events on Israeli society has actually increased with the passage of time. This process is complex and difficult to describe in a few sentences; however, understanding its dynamics is essential in any survey of Israeli culture. Large sectors of Israeli society – the mainstream, the decision-makers and the cultural icons – were emotionally ‘blocked’ for decades in their attitude towards the Shoah. The main reason for this is that it was difficult for many Israelis – and for the society as a whole – to face this period in Jewish history without the protective, ideological armor of a Zionist perspective that condemned the victims even as it mourned them. The prevailing activist stream in Zionism perceived them as having ignored the warning signs – of having clung to the relative comfort of the Diaspora, and having ultimately gone to their deaths as the proverbial ‘sheep to the slaughter.’ In a sense, the Shoah confirmed the Zionists’ belief regarding the perils of the Diaspora, the weakness of the unassertive Diaspora Jew and the strength of the proud, upstanding, national Jew that they believed Zionism had produced. “We would have done things differently,” they stated. For years, this patronizing attitude prevented many Israelis from understanding the complexities of the true situation that the Jews of Europe had faced.

This subject is finely described and satirized in Shulamit Hareven’s superb story, The Witness. The story demonstrates the problems encountered by a young Holocaust refugee who arrives at an Israeli boarding-school after his whole family has been murdered. Through the self-righteous tone of the narrator, a teacher at the school, we witness the callousness of the society at that time, and its inability to identify and empathize with the experiences of the victims and survivors.

The Zionists chose to memorialize instead the memory of the proud fighters of Warsaw and other ghettos. These represented the ‘positive’ side of Jewish behavior as opposed to the faceless millions who had gone shamefully to their deaths according to the prevailing Zionist viewpoint. In such an atmosphere, it is hardly surprising that – apart from those who had had direct contact with the Shoah – the subject was kept at a distance and intellectualized by much of Israeli society. It is safe to say that this stage – which may be called ‘Stage One’ of Israeli Holocaust memory – lasted until well into the 1970s. Two exceptions should be mentioned here, however, who were not part of the denial that characterized most of Israeli society: Aharon Applefield and Ida Fink, both outstanding in their written evocation of Holocaust Europe, had had personal experience of those events.

However, a number of factors gradually caused an erosion of the usual Israeli distance from the Shoah, allowing a more honest, personal evaluation of the past. At this point, more understanding and empathy began to creep in. Two sets of factors may have caused this transformation: knowledge and emotional responses. The initial step towards a deeper understanding of the recent past began with the Eichman trial in 1961. For the first time, Holocaust survivors were encouraged to come forward as witnesses and retell their experiences openly before the Israeli public. Further revelations concerning the German bureaucracy before and during the war demonstrated clearly that the situation had been far more complex than many had previously realized. At a later stage, increasing knowledge about these events began to permeate the Israeli consciousness. In addition, many groups of young Israelis began serious study of the Shoah that included taking trips to Poland.

The change in emotional responses is far more complex and can be linked partly to a change in the Israelis’ self-image as they confronted a hostile world and found themselves existentially threatened by Arab states and terror. They had formerly seen themselves through the prism of ideological Zionism as people who rejected fear and neuroses – the heritage of the Diaspora Jew; now they found themselves in fear for their families and for themselves. The figure of the Jew as victim could no longer be relegated to the outside Jewish world as the exclusive property of the Diaspora Jew: they began to consider themselves victims. In so doing, they began to understand the plight of those co-religionists who see the world standing by passively as the forces of hatred close in on the Jews. As this occurred, they began not only to acknowledge the Shoah in their heads but also to feel it in their hearts. The empathy that previously had been lacking in many Israelis now became evident and the entire subject became acceptable. This is evident in Israeli creative culture. For example, judging by the ideological position represented in some of the early Israeli art on display at Yad vashem, the official national site of Shoah commemoration, Israeli artists and writers have clearly become more empathetic.

This second, empathetic stage of Shoah remembrance is exemplified by more recent group of writers who were not directly involved themselves. Nonetheless, their work demonstrates deep sensitivity particularly with regard to the lives of survivors in Israel. David Grossman, Shulamit Hareven and Savyon Liebrecht, for example, stress the tragedy of lives forever changed by the events in Europe; Hareven also criticizes the insensitive paternalism of the Yishuv after the World War II.

The Israeli cinema generally has not focused on the Shoah. Two important feature films that tackled the subject of survivors in the early years of statehood, however, should be mentioned. Both were made by Israel’s leading film actress, Gila Almagor; drawing on her personal memories as the daughter of a survivor family, she created two truly wonderful, empathetic pictures in the 1980s and 90s. The Summer of Aviya(1988) and Underneath the Domim Tree (1995) possess deep emotional power and are two of the finest Israeli films. Another, very different, film is the full-length documentary Because of That War. This portrays the extraordinary attempt of rock musician Yehuda Poliker and his partner Yaakov Gil‘ad, both children of survivors, to write rock songs about the Shoah, chronicling their parents’ experiences.

A large number of other documentaries have been made on this subject. With time, however, the emphasis has changed. At first statements were made on a large scale, not only in film and literature, but also in monumental art such as the powerful Scroll of Fire, situated in the Judean hills around Jerusalem. In recent years, however, these have tended to be replaced by smaller, more personal statements. Many documentaries have now been produced in which survivors record the details of their daily lives and recount their personal history.

In some ways, the weight of this memory is becoming heavier with the passage of time. Clearly this subject will be part of the Israeli psyche and its artistic expression for many years to come.