Allen Ginsberg’s Judaism is a fraught subject. Although he was brought up in a family that felt itself unquestionably Jewish, his parents did not practice Judaism as a religion. The family felt keenly the brunt of antisemitism and were deeply traumatized by the Holocaust. Both “Howl” and “Kaddish” bear its unmistakable impact. Unlike his father and many others he knew, Ginsberg did not, though, become a booster for the state of Israel. In fact, he came to revile the concepts of nationhood and religious exclusivity, opting instead for an ethos of compassion and fellow feeling. His universalism linked him with secular Jewish pioneers such as Baruch Spinoza, Heinrich Heine, Karl Marx, Rosa Luxemburg, Sigmund Freud, and Leon Trotsky, all of whom have been characterized as “non-Jewish Jews.” Ultimately, his Jewishness appears most strongly in his practice of “lovingkindness” and in his role as prophet against capitalist greed and militaristic warmongering, which allies him with the prophets of the Hebrew Bible.

When Germany occupied Denmark in April 1940, Danish opposition to the persecution of its Jewish minority was clear from the outset. As the occupation progressed, many individuals and groups vied for influence on this issue, including the King, the church, public figures, German officials in Denmark and the Danish Nazi party. The uneasy cooperation between Denmark and Germany held until August 1943, before collapsing in acrimony. The Nazis then sought to take advantage of the crisis to deport the Jews. The Danish people, however, mounted an extraordinary resistance to thwart their plans. The chapter examines the daring rescue of the Jews and the creation of a safe passage to Sweden. It also explores the fate of those who were captured and deported to Theresienstadt; and those children who stayed behind in hiding in Denmark. The next section of the chapter seeks to understand these exceptional experiences. It considers what made the rescue of Danish Jewry possible, and what were the leading factors that contributed to this outcome. Finally, the chapter concludes by considering how this case study can contribute to our understanding of what promotes resilience to genocide.

There is no doubt that the Bulgarian Jewish population was at extreme risk of genocide during the Holocaust. At one stage, the cattle cars were literally waiting at the station to begin deportations. Bulgaria, a Nazi ally, introduced discriminatory laws targeting its 48,000 or so Jewish citizens, who experienced escalating persecution. Jews in Bulgarian-occupied Thrace and Macedonia were denied Bulgarian citizenship and deported to the death camps in early 1943. At the same time, the Bulgarian government approved a secret plan to commence deporting Bulgarian Jewry. Yet through an extraordinary series of events, political and public opposition forced the planned deportations to be repeatedly postponed, and ultimately abandoned. In this way, almost the entirety of the Bulgarian Jewish population survived the Holocaust. This chapter examines the key factors that led to their survival. It considers the role of the government, politicians, the church and ordinary Bulgarian citizens in contributing to this outcome. The chapter concludes by reflecting on the insights for genocide prevention that can be gleaned from this case study.

Chapter 2 reviews Plath’s metaphorical employment of the witch-martyr figure within the political and religious framework of the Cold War. The chapter outlines Plath’s subversion of the religious vocabulary and themes in her poems, like ‘Lady Lazarus’, particularly its draft, and her parallelling doctors and priests in short stories, such as ‘Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams’ to critique the rhetoric of the Cold War. The chapter gives evidence that Plath employs the female body as a site of modern political and medical institutional violence, seeking inspiration from the power imbalance of the early modern witch trials and Joan of Arc’s martyrdom. The close examination of Plath’s drafts of ‘Fever 103°’ and ‘Lady Lazarus’ concludes the chapter on Plath’s Cold War poetics. It argues that the anticlerical and anti-authoritarian language of her poetry reimagines witch prosecutions, martyrdom, and inquisition in periods of political torture and nuclear warfare.

An examination of Meredith Monk’s 1976 opera Quarry in the context of her other works of music theater and film, as well as selected music compositions from the full span of her career. The analysis reads the opera alongside scholarship on the "post-memory" generation (characterized by its distance from the Holocaust), as well as on photography, monuments and "counter-monuments," and other memorial art.

Chapter 3 draws on the rich psychological-psychiatric and related literature on the sequelae of the Holocaust. This was the basis for many of the propositions of the historical trauma concept among Indigenous Americans. In this field, many Jewish or Israeli researchers have contributed important theories and concepts, such as the diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder with its precursor terms, the memorial concept ‘Zachor’, survivor guilt, and the just-world hypothesis, among others. In this area, inter- or transgenerational transmission has been extensively studied. The collective narrative of Anne Frank’s memories helped these topics to achieve a level of international acknowledgment that they did not have before. To this day, descendants still experience discrimination. As remedies, significant contributions were made to the development of psychoanalysis and psychotherapy, although these remained largely an individual and not community-based approach. Research into the effectiveness of memorial visits was initiated here in isolated studies.

Collective memory of a historical event does not depend on its contemporary and historiographical significance alone. Germany’s selective memory of the Eastern Front is a case in point. It has been influenced by four developments. The problem of the prisoners of war that had remained in the Soviet Union, the ‘returnees’, and the veterans underlined the importance of the Eastern Front among the West German public. The Stalingrad myth, in particular, had a decisive influence on an image of war (in the East), according to which the Germans considered themselves first and foremost victims of that war. The critical discussion of the war and its nexus with the Holocaust after 1970 led to a turning point wherein the victims of the Germans became the focus of remembrance in West Germany. In the socialist satellite state of East Germany, the heroization of the Red Army was a characteristic feature of public war memories. Commemorations of the Eastern Front changed again in unified Germany after the Cold War – from the early years of Russia’s rapprochement to the dramatic deterioration of the German-Russian relationship.

Chapter 3 observes the stark contrast between long-standing practices of market opacity and secrecy in the field of cultural property and current legal, professional, reputational, and ethical trends that promote a requirement to engage in due diligence in dealing with cultural property. It then highlights the changing role and scope of provenance research, which has evolved from a highly selective focus on an object’s “career highlights” to promote its value to the task of identifying potential “dark holes” in the chain of title and possession of an item since its creation or discovery. This changing paradigm can be largely attributed to the renewed interest, as of the 1990s, in the history of items that may have been involuntarily lost by their Jewish owners during the Nazi era. This chapter shows how the professionalization and systematization of provenance research, while taking different forms across various jurisdictions in Europe and beyond, may prove essential for promoting provenance research on the history of other cultural items, such as colonial-era objects.

This chapter situates itself between the untheorizable singularities of specific case studies and the unsustainable generalities that usually result from attempts at broad historical characterization.  By looking at everything from a late fifteenth-century image of Jews making music in a Prague synagogue to armies of wooden klezmer musicians in a twenty-first-century store window, and from a nineteenth-century Jewish musical caricature to a bit of concentration-camp ephemera involving Hebrew words spelled with musical notes, this chapter endeavors to give some of the flavor of the Czech Jewish musical experience.

Chapter 6 discusses the representation of memory in trauma narratives. Accounts of victims of childhood trauma are contrasted with the testimony of Holocaust survivors. I argue that that the distinctive qualities of trauma narratives can also be understood as differences in the culturally constructed landscapes of memory that shapes the distance and effort to remember affectively charged and socially defined events. Landscapes of memory draw from implicit models of memory that influence what can be recalled and warranted as accurate. Trauma narratives involve cultural models and metaphors of personal and historical memory. For them to function as personal and collective history, there must be public places for them to be told, acknowledged, and retold. The political recognition of collective identity and history can help create such a place. Individuals’ stories, in turn, can serve as testimony to ground collective history and call for further moral and political response. Understanding the personal, social, and political meanings of trauma in theory and practice requires tracing the systemic loops that link memory, symptom, and response with a landscape of cultural affordances.

This chapter examines how the Holocaust affected thinking about the humanities and social sciences throughout the West. It offers an intellectual history of key responses to the Holocaust, with an emphasis on political philosophy and social theory. Major intellectuals (Arendt, Adorno, Agamben), as well as less well-known thinkers (Günther Anders, Moishe Postone) are considered. The trajectory of post-Holocaust thought forms the throughline. In the first postwar decades, the Jewish genocide was considered as part of a broader eruption of war and totalitarian violence, while more recent thinkers have tended to subsume the entire history of Western violence, perhaps even “the West” itself, under the sign of the Holocaust.

This chapter traces the long trajectory of Holocaust testimony from the 1940s to the present. It notes that there are different temporal registers for testimony, from accounts offered during the war to retrospective accounts offered after 1945, sometimes decades later. It notes the ways in which the testimony considered valuable expanded over time to include not just that of survivors of camps or ghettos, but also that of hidden children or Jews living in hiding with false papers. It also evolved in content, as testimony came to not just remember the dead, but also shape the living and the reconstruction of Jewish life. Even material culture has been incorporated into testimony, as artifacts from survivors have become “sacred relics” of a sort.

Few historical events have been more often depicted in film than the Holocaust. This started in the 1940s and continues to the present day. Many of the representational challenges and conundrums found in other arts are present in film as well, though if anything in more acute form. Film is arguably the most mimetic of all the arts, which makes the risk of prurience, voyeurism, or sadistic (or masochistic) pleasure in watching artificial depictions of the suffering of others all the graver. This chapter situates the history of Holocaust films between the poles of melodramatic realism embodied in the American television miniseries Holocaust and the epic documentary film Shoah. These represent conventional realism, on the one hand, and a rigorous and austere refusal to represent the past at except through images of the present, on the other. As the chapter shows, a myriad of other films situate themselves either at one pole or the other, or between the two.