27
December, 2011 in Herzliya
By
Erwin Javor
Dear
Madam Mayor!
Dear
Mr. Vice Mayor!
Dear
family!
Dear
friends!
After
my father died, my mother, together with the City of Herzeliya, originally built
a centre in 1984 and she took great interest in the development until her
death. And just little aside about Herzeliya. Herzl was Viennese, was born
Budapest and longed for Israel. A little
parallel to my own life.
We
were all very proud that such a positive project and all the components of it being
brought to life here, has been named after my father. Immediately after my mother’s death I continued
to develop the idea, and now, with the help of the City, the architects and the
management, and with the support of my wife and our son Daniel, I am able to hand
over this centre as my late father would have wished.
I
confess that I am overwhelmed by my emotions. For me, this is an important day.
And now I'll tell you why.
In
his Galician Shtetl, my father had seen scholarly pious Jews, forced by
SS-thugs to ride on top one of another. They had to crawl on all fours. Other
especially heavy Jews, were forced to sit on them like jockeys and then ride for
the amusement of the Nazis who bet on them. At that time my father began to have
doubts and wondered if the Nazis weren’t perhaps right. Were we not we actually
sub-human? How else could it be that those who had been so admired for their
education and wisdom could sink so low? And what had become of him himself? How
could he watch these goings on without turning on the tormentors?
After
the war, my father saw a single Russian soldier, armed with a machine gun,
guarding hundreds of German prisoners. They were just as dirty, scared, crouched
and humiliated as the Jews had been in front of them. Hundreds of Germans had
not fought back - against one Russian. It was then my father first realised that
anyone, no matter who, can under the right circumstances, be made subhuman.
My
parents and my sister also belonged to the generation that drained swamps and
desert of Israel, built the Jews independent state, and defended it against
overwhelming military force. The survivors of the Shoah had in just a few years
looked into the human abyss. But it was also they who had realised the dream of
the founding of Israel. They survived the hell of humiliation and experienced
the soaring heights of being proud Israelis. An incredible span of emotions.
My
generation and the generation of my children has never felt this abyss in their
beings. We are not Shoah survivors, but we are Holocaust victims. Our parents
taught us we had always better keep a suitcase packed. I have three children,
one of them lives in Israel, one in the US, and one is always going back and
forth between Austria and Israel.
My
parents taught me what it means to lead a proud and upright life as a Jew. I
try to pass this on to my children. My son Daniel managed it first. He does
what I would like to have done in my life. He lives here and I envy and regret this
simultaneously. Since Israel, as well as giving its love and being loved by the
people, also has difficulties, absurdities, and other surprises. If Daniel makes
it here - and I am convinced he will - then he can make it anywhere in the
world.
Also,
in this centre, people from several generations meet daily. Holocaust
survivors, freedom fighters for Israel, their children and grandchildren. What
makes this place so special and important is the fact that intergenerational
shared values are being lived here. Here it isn’t the past being lived out, but
the present and the future.
At
These exciting moments I think of my sister, who out of despair not being
allowed to emigrate to Israel, tragically committed suicide at the age of 14.
Today
on Chanuka, the national festival of liberation, my wife and I, on behalf of my
parents and my sister, hope that this centre will make a small contribution to the
positive development of beautiful Herzliya.
Many
thanks
