My friend, Dr. Eva Fogelman, has written a piece for Jewcy about third generation Holocaust survivors for which I was an interview subject. It’s an interesting piece and worth a read, though I regretfully disagree with her assessment of “intergenerational transmission of trauma” and her assertion that “Trauma cannot be transmitted to others.”
As Eva identifies, “3Gs are not experiencing Nazi racism or genocide. What is transmitted to 3Gs are values, worldview, family interaction and love—not trauma.”
Indeed, my generation has not been traumatized by having directly experienced persecution at the hands of the Nazis. Rather, it is our stated family interactions and the values we have inherited from our progenitors that account for our traumatization.
Our historical and religious narratives perpetuate a legacy of persecution: One should view himself as though he had been a slave in Egypt; the Amalekites shall rise up in every generation; 6 million perished in Europe; Israel is the most vilified nation on Earth; “They tried to kill us. We survived. Let’s eat.” Even our national symbol, the Menorah, recalls surviving our near-total destruction. In fact, I may go so far as to argue that the primary characteristic of Jewishness in itself is the affectation of surviving traumatic historical episodes.
Add to this our generation’s coming of age in a time of outright hostility towards Israel and Jewish national identity, which has brought along with it resurging levels of antisemitism.
And finally, consider the all-too common experience of domestic violence shared by 2nd and 3rd generation survivors, who embody and perpetuate the effects of physical and psychological abuse initiated by 1st generation survivors. I find it telling that the defining act which earned Abraham the inheritance of Israel was that of traumatizing his son Isaac by binding him to a sacrificial altar. This is where our story begins.
In that, while we may not have inherited the very trauma that afflicted our grandparents directly, I believe it self-evident that we have inherited trauma itself.





7 Comments
Good piece and good point, Dan. Really.
trauma and persecution are not uniquely jewish. what makes us unusual is our persistent survival, and that we trace our points of origin (as a belief system, as a family/ethnicity, as a nation, as a religion) to not just these past moments of ‘original trauma’ but to a tradition of FIXING them.
Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, Abraham in the idol shop, the nation of Israel in slavery in Egypt, the destruction of the temple and exile in Babylon… the point of our tradition is not to remember these traumas, but is the fact that we have developed wisdom (however flawed and incomplete) to heal from these traumas, to speak of them in ways that answer the spiritual breaking that was caused by these events.
This is a good idea and a good thread. of course i’m sure half the people who read it will miss your point and simply be offended. (!)
her assertion that “Trauma cannot be transmitted to others.”
is totally irresponsible.
Chellis Glendinning’s book “My Name Is Chellis and I’m In Recovery from Western Civilization” is a wonderful book– basically a trauma-based view of all world history. The author started out as a clinical psychologist. Should be required reading for anyone interested in this topic.
can we wash our exile away?
if we scrub real hard like Lady Macbeth
can we wash away the looking over our shoulders
the always-have-your-passport-in-hand
the ready to run
diaspora desperation
land desperation
THE land — ha-aretz –
can we scrub ha-aretz clean?
squeeky clean
like nobody ever lived there
do you remember the motto?
“a land without people
for a people without land”
and they bought it
and i bought it
and we grew up thinking it was true
knowing it was not
scrubbing scrubbing
exile bubbles
do you remember what the experts say
about childhood trauma?
“symbolic reenactment”
it’s not that you do the thing that was done to you
oh no
we don’t do that
it’s that you make ‘em feel what you felt when it happened
and you don’t know it
you don’t know it!
and you can’t help it
and you can’t stop it
and so you don’t know why
you feel so unclean
and so you wash
and do the Lady Macbeth thing
and it doesn’t come clean
all i ever get is
soap scum at my feet
-Mira Amiras
I know a second generation holocaust survivor who says of his childhood; “I survived the holocaust.” This is a man who was raised by a traumatized father who believed that children, even at the age of 4, should ALWAYS be working. At that age, waking up at four a.m. to “help” with menial tasks was routine. He and his brothers got beaten if they did anything displeasing, including laughing. The father had a miserable childhood devoid of laughter; He didn’t know how to raise kids any other way. How would Dr. Fogelman categorize that experience?
Shalom, yermanelos e yermanelas! Salaam alaicum.
Right now, my people in Spain is remembering our 100 000 countryfellowmen and women terminated _most of them at Matthausen. Yes, we’re a little bit late. That’s what happens when you pass through a dictatorship and a scared democratic transition. Mine is the first spanish generation who speaks freely and acts freely about our missings and exiled. Most of them were communist, but not all, not really.
Well, the thing is that, on the contrary of what you explain, fear still remains within survivors and their children. Thousands of families whose relatives killed by Franco and the Nazis just can’t take care of the rests to make a funeral. And that’s not the best way of ending such a big pain, if I’m explaining myself well.
I don’t think Memory is bad for anyone. But, as Dan recalls, “we have suffered a lot, let’s eat” is not a good Memory exercise either.
By the way _the poem is just so moving… I have no words.
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