5/11/26-- The Misery of Terezin

 5/11/26-- The Misery of Terezin 

Built in the late 1700s, Terezin was designed to be a small, fortified border town that could help protect citizens of one empire from citizens of another. Knowing this, it comes as no surprise that Terezin isn’t a welcoming place. Surrounded by a massive moat and steep walls, Terezin doesn’t invite you in. And you certainly don’t end up in Terezin by accident. The Jews of Prague and many surrounding cities, villages, and neighboring lands certainly didn’t. As we know, our fellow Jews were sent there. Forcibly removed from their homes, uprooted from their lives, displaced, driven, and herded. And from that awful place, Terezin, they were sent to places far worse. While some returned, none returned whole. And for most, including all but a few hundred of the children, Terezin was a death sentence. 

Why would a person go to Terezin? Why would a person live in Terezin? Why would human beings intentionally create such a dark and dreary, nihilistic and hateful place? These are agitating questions. They’re agitating because they have answers that we’d rather not hear. Principal among those answers is the simple truth that Terezin served a significant purpose in supporting the aims of one of the 20th century’s most toxic ideologies: Nazism. When viewed from the vantage point of Nazi ideology, Terezin makes perfect sense. Stated plainly: Terezin is a place to collect, store, and process Jews. It’s a place exquisitely and elegantly designed to solve a very specific problem. 

Among Terezin’s eerie qualities is the silence. As we traveled from site to site, we passed more than a handful of local residents. But I can’t recall hearing a single voice. Only the sound of chirping birds. No planes, no lawnblowers, no honking horns, no recorded music coming from homes or cafes. Just the sound of rustling leaves and chirping birds. Terezin is so silent that if you really listen closely you can hear the sound of suffering, the sound of shock, of horror, of disbelief. Of human anguish. I wish I could paint a less stark picture, but it’s really not possible. And knowing that the Nazis used Terezin to film propaganda films to try and mislead the world regarding the true barbarity of their regime, it feels particularly inappropriate to breathe even one single additional ounce of humanity into a place so awful. But even still…

Much of our focus at Terezin was on the brave adults, specifically the artists and teachers, who cared for the children of Terezin. These adults did everything that they could to provide a sense of normalcy, hope, and wellbeing to Terezin’s children. Can we all, for a moment, imagine being such a teacher? Walking into a classroom full of terrified orphans, wondering which will be the next to be deported, lose a parent, or fall ill, die, and be taken to the crematorium? When we hear that Jews kept faith even in the darkest hours, it can only be because of people like this. How could these people set aside their own terror, trauma, and grief? Perhaps we can all sit with this question for a moment. 

A beautiful feature of youth is the simultaneous depth and expression of feeling alongside the inability to truly grasp the horrors of a place like Terezin. So, while I know that our 8th graders will never forget Terezin, I also know that they didn’t fully get it. I’m not sure any of us can. Or even if we can, that we should. Some places, some deeds, some failures of humanity should remain eternally inscrutable to decent people. And at the same time, we shouldn’t grant Terezin more power than it deserves. While it was a place where human beings used power against their fellow man in the most deplorable ways imaginable, it’s also a place that oozes with the infected impotence of a sick and perverted ideology. Those walls, that silence, that barbarism--- all that reminds us just how grotesque and ultimately condemnable and feeble an ideology like Nazism is. In moments when we are fearful, maybe our experience of Terezin can be a source of strength. Not even Terezin, ovens ablaze, could rid the world of Jews. Meanwhile, we thrive, living our values, honoring our traditions, and Terezin remains the same miserable fortress it has always been. A sick and miserable fortified town, hiding behind its walls. 

Well… having said that… as promised, the rest of the day took a lighter touch. Some of our life affirming fun was rerouted because of some afternoon rain, but we didn’t hear any complaints. Tomorrow we pack our bags and leave Prague. Our bags are a bit heavier than when we arrived here, due to some modest souvenir shopping and, more symbolically, because of the many experiences, insights, and memories that we will be carrying with us as we journey on.