Marking the Holocaust Amid Unsettling News

The arrival of Holocaust Remembrance Day on Monday reminds me that I probably shouldn't exist to mark the occasion. All four of my grandparents made the mistake of being born Jewish in Europe before World War II. My maternal grandparents were children as the war began... My paternal grandparents were adults when the war began... Both of my paternal grandparents miraculously survived the camps. I can only imagine what atrocities they witnessed and endured: Such things were not discussed.

I am far enough removed from these events to write about them and to be fascinated by the way they fit into history. I'm even interested in what happened afterward: my maternal grandparents meeting on the boat to Israel; my paternal grandparents planning to immigrate to Argentina, then at the last minute finding my grandmother's long-lost sister in New York, who was able to sponsor their emigration to America.

But I am not far enough removed to be undisturbed by modern instances of anti-Semitism. The killing on April 13 of three people outside two Kansas City-area Jewish centers, allegedly by a former Ku Klux Klan "grand dragon." My cousin's college classmate who drew a swastika on him in his sleep. The distribution of fliers to Jews leaving a synagogue in eastern Ukraine, ordering them to register—a propagandist hoax, apparently, but one that wouldn't have been plausible if anti-Semitism didn't still lurk among many in Eastern Europe. The acquaintance who said I "don't look Jewish." The "How Privileged Are You?" quiz I took online last week that penalized me 25 points for being Jewish; Christianity was penalized five points; Islam received a bonus of 50. The glee with which the international community disparages the state of Israel. That is not to say that Israel is perfect, or anything close to it. But to point out that some of the criticism of Israel is rooted in anti-Semitism is not to be anti-Palestinian.

(snip)

That I can tell my family's stories—while the millions of dead had no children or grandchildren to carry on their tales—is not just a testament to their incredible luck, but also a testament to the courage of others. On this day, and every day, I hope we'll remember that when tragedy or terror strikes, we all have it in ourselves to be the upstanding exception. We have a choice in the face of evil. Luckily, in much of the world and in most of our lives, making such a choice isn't necessary. But, especially as time passes and the Holocaust recedes, we must remember that evil of astounding scope, intensity and premeditation is possible. I have little doubt that Jews will continue to question themselves, their "privilege" and their role in the world. What worries me is the eagerness with which others join in the questioning.

Ms. Mogilanski is a junior majoring in economics at Harvard University.

http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702303380004579520144087642248

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