16.06.2025
Forever, if necessary...

„What the children in Gaza are going through is what I went through.“ 

Holocaust Survivor Marione Ingram, 2024

A humanitarian catastrophe is unfolding in Gaza before the eyes of the world. The images of starving children, bombed neighborhoods, and desperate people fleeing are unbearable. Increasingly, voices openly describe this as genocide. These accusations target not only a government, but also a political narrative deeply rooted in the internalized status of being eternal victims.

The trauma of the Shoah profoundly shapes Israeli society. The Holocaust—the systematic murder of six million European Jews—is one of the darkest chapters in human history. This collective wound significantly contributed to the formation of the Israeli state. Precisely because this trauma runs so deep, however, it is vulnerable to political instrumentalization.

For decades, the rhetoric of many Israeli leaders has consistently followed the pattern: "Never again be victims." This demand for self-determination is understandable and justified. However, problems arise when any criticism of the Israeli government's actions is deflected by invoking the Holocaust, creating a kind of immunity from empathy towards other victims.

This dynamic creates a psychologically dangerous situation. Those who cling to victimhood without reflecting on it risk becoming perpetrators themselves. Victimhood can become a position of moral power, seemingly exempt from responsibility. When misused, it generates a sense of entitlement, where one claims no accountability for one's actions and asserts a perceived right to act as one pleases. Necessary criticism of the actions of former victims, however, must not lead to their renewed victimization. That would be a fatal mistake.

Looking back at the Warsaw Ghetto highlights painful historical parallels: Between 1940 and 1943, over 100,000 people died there of starvation. Hundreds of thousands more were deported to Treblinka and murdered. The 1943 uprising was brutally crushed: houses burned, bunkers bombed, people executed.

Today, disturbing parallels appear in Gaza: systematic bombings, blockades causing starvation, the collapse of medical services, and mass displacement. Children are dying due to a lack of water, food, and shelter. Once again, a ghetto is being destroyed—not by Nazis, but by an army claiming to protect a historically traumatized people.

These repeated reversals of victim-perpetrator narratives are not unique. They occur wherever collective traumas remain unresolved. The United States wages wars in the name of freedom and democracy, killing millions of civilians. Putin portrays Russia as a victim of NATO while destroying Ukraine. Colonial violence was long justified by the supposed defense or spread of "civilization." Even the Nazis portrayed themselves as victims after World War I, blaming Zionists for Germany's downfall and using their victimhood as a justification for violence and atrocities committed against innocent people.

The pattern is always the same: one's suffering justifies new violence. Thus, trauma reproduces itself and becomes a weapon.

To break this vicious cycle, we need collective trauma healing, the ability to empathize with former adversaries, and a form of remembrance that transcends guilt to take actual responsibility.

Those who cannot relinquish their victimhood remain trapped—or risk instrumentalizing it, unconsciously becoming perpetrators themselves. This applies both individually and collectively.

Similarly, those permanently labeled as perpetrators lose the chance to stand in solidarity with today's victims. Taking responsibility for the past means intervening wherever people are disenfranchised, displaced, harmed, or killed, regardless of who the perpetrators are.

Precisely because we Germans understand what it means to have been perpetrators, we must help prevent today's perpetrators and protect today's victims. We owe this to the millions killed and tortured in our history, not through silence but through clear action. Even when today's perpetrators belong to a historically victimized group, we must not look away. Instead, we must approach them with compassion and understanding, but also clarity, stopping them from inflicting upon others what their people once suffered.

Why is it Germany's state doctrine that Israel has a right to exist, but not that all peoples have a right to exist? Why should Germany remain silent and continue to stand alongside a government violating international law and human rights? Many Germans feel paralyzed by the fear of becoming perpetrators again and by the belief that our historical guilt strips us of the moral authority to critically question the actions of the Israeli government. Naturally, former perpetrators should exercise restraint when criticizing others for similar acts. Yet three generations now separate us from our historical crimes, and this very historical guilt should prompt us to actively prevent new perpetrators and protect today's victims. Only in this way can we foster responsible collective growth and a conscious, constructive approach to our guilt.

Today, Israeli leaders wage a war they define as striving for "total victory" over Hamas—a phrase repeatedly used by Prime Minister Netanyahu. This war has expanded to include the Houthis, Hezbollah, and Iran, driven by the belief that overwhelming military force will eliminate all threats and ensure the Israeli people never again become victims. Yet this war creates thousands of new victims, who might one day become perpetrators themselves. This cycle of violence will only end when both sides—victims and perpetrators—assume responsibility. Responsibility to ensure there are neither new victims nor new perpetrators.

Those who were once victims understand what it means to be stripped of rights and dignity. This knowledge can become compassion—a compassion that restores dignity and strength to others. Former perpetrators know the destructive force within themselves and must do everything to prevent others from becoming perpetrators.

Victims and perpetrators of the past know what it means when people are dehumanized, tortured, and annihilated. Therefore, they must now raise their voices together for the victims of yesterday and the victims of today.

Only in this way can the horrors of the past help prevent the horrors of today and tomorrow.

„All of my Jewish family was murdered, and it is not in their names that Israel is killing children."

"If this reaches even one person in Gaza, I want them to know that there are people who are speaking for them. I will continue this. Forever, if necessary.“ – 

Holocaust-Überlebende Marione Ingram, 2024