"FORGIVE? FORGET? WHY I STILL TEACH THE HOLOCAUST"

At the University of Leicester's Chaplaincy Centre this lunchtime, for the summer term lecture sponsored by the World Faiths Advisory Group (WFAG).

The World Faiths Advisory Group exists to promote understanding and co-operation among faith groups on campus, by

• exploring spirituality in a multi-faith context
• welcoming students and staff of all faiths
• working towards equal opportunities in relation to all faith groups

This lecture is part of WFAG's programme of encouraging people of different faiths associated with the university to meet, mix and get to know each other better. Stephen Foster (Co-ordinating Chaplain) tells us that WFAG recently organized a "speed dating" event in this very room, involving representatives of several faith societies on campus (he apologises for using that term, but he can't think of a better one right now - and at least we all know what he means by that).

The title of today's lecture is "Forgive? Forget? Why I still teach the Holocaust". The speaker is Aubrey Newman, Emeritus Professor of History and Past Director of the Stanley Burton Centre for Holocaust and Genocide Studies at the University of Leicester.

Prof. Newman speaks in the Octagon from 1300, following a light lunch, in front of an audience two dozen strong, with Bahá'í, Buddhist, Sikh and several denominations of Christian representation.

Prof. Newman asks us to consider his talk as an Apologia pro vita mea: a defence of one's life. Technically speaking, he is still an academic historian of the 18th century. Even at this late stage, he ponders whether he has taken the right path or should return to a biography of George III that has languished, two-thirds finished, in a drawer for many a year.

He was first invited to teach a special course on the Holocaust at the University of Leicester in the early 1980s. He muses that we'd be hard pressed to find someone who has spent so long teaching a subject which he abhors.

Two quotations feature prominently in the presentation:

"Those who do not know history's mistakes are bound to repeat them." (George Santayana, 1863-1952)

"You are not obligated to finish the work, neither are you free to give it up." (Rabbi Hillel, c.110 BCE - 10 CE)

Turning to the title of his talk, he asks: can he forgive? No. Can he forget? Definitely not.

The refusal to forgive does not denote any kind of vindictiveness on the part of the speaker. Prof. Newman doesn't accept the notion of vicarious forgiveness, any more than he accepts the notion of vicarious sin. As we are responsible for our own behaviour, so the only people who can forgive are those against whom the act has been perpetrated. Therefore the only people with the right to forgive the Holocaust are the victims themselves - and forgiveness cannot be obtained from the dead.

And as far as forgetting goes, it appears that much of Europe has forgotten the lessons of the Holocaust, if the rise of far right extremism is anything to go by.

During the Q&A I ask Prof. Newman a question. In his answer he refers to the Jewish community in Scotland with what sounds like first hand knowledge. After the meeting is over, I push him a little on this and he tells me that his family went up to Glasgow to escape the Blitz (arriving just in time to experience Glasgow's own), that he was educated at Queen's Park School and took his first degree at the University of Glasgow.

CITY IN TRIBUTE TO GENOCIDE VICTIMS

This article appears in today's Leicester Mercury:

City in tribute to genocide victims

The atrocities of the Holocaust will be remembered at an event in Leicester this weekend.

Holocaust Memorial Day on Sunday will be marked with an event at the University of Leicester, which will pay tribute to victims of genocide and showcase work by schoolchildren on tackling hatred.

Entitled Communities Together: Build a Bridge, it takes place at the Fraser Noble Hall, in University Road, at 7.30pm.

It will include an address by Professor Aubrey Newman, former director of the university's Stanley Burton Centre for Holocaust and Genocide Studies, and will highlight the Auschwitz Project with a number of young people giving their thoughts on either having visited Auschwitz or preparing to go.

There will be readings from the winners of an essay competition and from an anthology of poems written by pupils from five city schools.

Musicians from English Martyrs Catholic School will perform during the event.

It has been organised by the city council, Leicester Council of Faiths, the School Development Support Agency and the Stanley Burton Centre.

BUILDING TOLERANCE

Photo of Leicester Orthodox Synagogue by Ben Ravilious (with permission)

A follow-up article in today's Leicester Mercury, after it reported the attack on the home of the Rabbi of Leicester Hebrew Congregation on its front page last Saturday (28 May)

Building Tolerance 

What happened to Rabbi Pink and his family was cowardly and creates fear. That is what we are working against

By Adam Wakelin

It was a throwback, the kind of headline you don't expect to see any more. Certainly not in Leicester. Yet there it was, on Saturday's front page: "Rabbi's home attacked by racist thugs".

We need to keep things in perspective, of course. Religious and cultural tolerance isn't coming off the rails just because a few brain-dead bigots took it upon themselves to break Rabbi Shmuli Pink's windows.

Even so, it doesn't sit easily with how we like to see ourselves.

Part of who we are, of what we've become, is that people in this city all rub along relatively happily.

Leicester has never knocked anyone flat with the force of its personality, but it has forged an identity from its respect of different cultures.

Once upon a time we made socks and shoes. Now we do diversity. Rather well, usually.

And the Jews, Leicester's oldest and perhaps least visible minority, have done more than most to build those bridges – and much else.

There are many notables from a community that has never numbered more than 700 to 800.

Children of all creeds and colours chase the pigeons around the fountain in Town Hall Square.

The fountain was bought for us by a Jew: Wealthy businessman, philanthropist and four-times mayor Israel Hart.

He also paid for the building of Leicester's first branch library and laid out Spinney Hill Park.

Goldsmiths Library, another landmark, was paid for by the industrialist Mac Goldsmith.

The illustrious Dr Dub, a deputy director of public health in Leicester, could have earned handsome sums from a private practice. Instead, he chose to pioneer the treatment of the city's children.

Dr Frank May, a Leicester businessman, was given the Freedom of the City for his charitable endeavours. Three city mayors have been Jewish.

"A lot has been achieved by a small community," says Aubrey Newman, an emeritus professor of history at the University of Leicester.

"It has always punched above its weight."

If confirmation is needed of how big a part the Jewish community has played in Leicester's public life you only need look at the names of donors who helped pay for the building, in 1897, of the synagogue in Highfields.

Jews and Gentiles sit side by side on that board in the synagogue's vestry – a statement of unity and an acknowledgement of the contribution made to the city's economic and civic prosperity by Jews.

It was a community that had come a long way in a short space of time.

Simon De Montfort may have infamously banished the Jews from Leicester in 1231, but a formal Jewish community didn't really establish itself in the city until the 1870s.

A lot has been made of De Montfort's edict and the indelible stain his actions left on a city that has founded its future on tolerance.

His greatest crime was being a man of his time, believes Prof Newman.

There have never been anti-Semitic riots in Leicester, says Prof Newman. Even De Montfort's medieval purge wasn't entirely successful.

He didn't have dominion over all of the city and there is evidence Jews did remain.

That's not to say life was without its bumps and bruises.

The book Jewish Voices: Memories of Leicester in the 1940s and 50s has first-hand accounts of how hard it could be.

"One of my earliest memories is being told by the twins who lived across the road that they weren't allowed to play with me. Why? Because I was a Jew," said Rifka Mayers.

"I learnt at an early age to deny who I was – it made being at school safe."

Bernard Besbrode told a similar story. "At school you lived with anti-Semitism," he said. "I know all the names. I've been called all the names."

Mathilda Applebaum was at Wyggeston Girls' School in the early 1950s. The rather fine hedge now in Regent Road is testament to those less enlightened times.

"We had to stay out of assembly and scripture lessons so we did gardening," she said.

Others had different experiences.

"I never experienced anti-Semitism," said Katherine May. "We had lots of non-Jewish friends who, when they entertained us, made sure they provided all the food we could eat."

The late 1970s and early 80s were another troubling time as Swastikas started appearing on walls and the National Front went on the march against Asians, blacks and Jews.

The idiots didn't get their way. That doesn't mean prejudice ever completely went away.

Leicester is a world in one city now, and it has a world's worth of problems to absorb. Not always successfully.

When tensions explode in Palestine and Israel, it has ramifications much closer to home.

"I have some wonderful friends in the Muslim community. We are working hard on community cohesion and mutual respect," says Tony Nelson, the Jewish vice-chairman of Leicester's Council of Faiths.

"Down at grassroots level it is perhaps a different story. There is an awful lot of vitriolic stuff on the internet – and young people are impressionable.

"No-one can condone what happened to Rabbi Pink and his family. It was cowardly and it creates fear. That is what we are working against."

A lot is being done to defuse tensions and tackle prejudice.

Three colleges in Leicester have a Jewish chaplain. The synagogue holds open days for schoolchildren.

A Family of Abraham dialogue group has been established to bring members of the Christian, Muslim and Jewish communities together.

The St Phillip's Centre, established to build bonds between faiths, takes roadshows into schools and colleges.

Laurels aren't being rested on. But that doesn't make the fear go away.

A couple of Jewish people who spoke to the Mercury for this story didn't want their names going in the newspaper.

Why? They feared repercussions. Putting your head above the parapet is something some in this community are still instinctively fearful of.

Last year's Mitzvah Day, which saw progressive and orthodox Jews standing outside supermarkets to collect cash to help victims of domestic violence, was momentous in its own modest way.

It was the first time the community had rattled a tin under the noses of the Leicester public and said, hey, we're Jewish, we're doing something good here, help us out.

The reaction was overwhelmingly positive.

What happened to Rabbi Shmuli is a setback.

"It's very depressing and quite concerning that a major religious leader has been attacked," says Riaz Ravat, an interfaith worker at the St Phillip's Centre. "Our thoughts and prayers go out to him.

"The Jewish community is doing a sterling amount of work to tackle prejudice and misunderstanding.

"These incidents illustrate that we are on a journey and we have to keep plugging away."