Yesterday was Holocaust Memorial Day in the UK and the occasion has been commemorated by a number of
events across the country today. Perhaps wisely, Google decided not to mark it with an adapted version of its logo. Such a national day of remembrance has been criticised controversially by the
Muslim Council of Britain so I want to take the opportunity to comment on these arguments and ask more generally whether there is a problem with the way the Holocaust is 'packaged'.
The first thing to say is that there are definitely valid criticisms of the views of some Muslim commentators, many of whom are slow to condemn those on the fringes who deny the Holocaust or who give credence to the obviously fake 'Protocols of the Elders of Zion'. Also, while they rightly call for more acknowledgement of other genocides, such as those in Cambodia, Bosnia and Rwanda, they are themselves unjusifiably selective in their examples by omitting, for instance, the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of Armenians by Ottoman Turkey.
However, as a disabled person, I am often frustrated by the almost exclusive focus upon the Jewish victims of the Holocaust, which can sometimes seem to give the impression that the deaths of disabled people were of less significance. This issue has been discussed by my fellow blogger at the New Statesman,
Victoria Brignell, and also by the
Goldfish, and I have nothing more to add at present. Nevertheless, I hope these articles make it clear why I occasionally find myself having some sympathy for the perspective of the Muslim Council of Britain.
Of course, I must be careful not to denigrate the imporatance of the fact that six million Jews were killed, but there are certain oddities in this respect as well. Millions of Jews were also murdered in the Soviet Union at roughly the same time and yet there is not a special day for them. One reason for the discrepancy is undoubtedly the mechanised nature of the Holocaust and the fact that it presents a particularly scary dystopian future, while Stalin's men used more old-fashioned methods, but I cannot help wondering is there is more to it than that.
A more cynical albeit realistic possibility relates to the fact that the British fought against Germany during the Second World War while the Red Army were on our side, and therefore we are less comfortable about acknowledging the evils of the latter. This explanation supports a popular revisionist view of the war, that Britain entered in order to protect the Jews, which of course we did not. In fact, British officials ignored all evidence of the Holocaust until the war was over. Despite this, we still did more than we did in Armenia, Cambodia and Rwanda, and this could partly explain the special status of the Nazi atrocities.
A similar issue arises in the case of histories of the Holocaust which perplexingly seem to start with the foundation of Auschwitz in 1940 or even the first use of Zyklon B there in 1941. A
BBC TV series based entirely on this premise was screened a couple of years ago. Prior to 1940, the context includes not only the majority of killings of disabled people but also the piecemeal increase of restrictions on the freedom and movement of Jews, which were not always greatly more severe than those in Western so-called democracies during the same period.
These similarities are hugely significant and their glossing over highly revealing. Little that the Nazis did prior the Holocaust itself received much in the way of vociferous condemnation from the Allies who later fought against them, and many of their actions had been influenced by eugenics movements emanating largely from the United States and Britain. Similarly, the 'Euthanasia' Programme, about which German authorities were quite open, had its own parallels in other countries. Forced sterilization of disabled people was concurrently taking place in various states of America and continued in Sweden until the 1970s.
Therefore, the popular approach to the Holocaust seems designed to achieve two key effects, firstly to remove from every country except Germany any culpability for what happened, and secondly, by stripping away the context, to present it as an inexplicable aberration which could never happen again. All very reassuring I'm sure, but I am not convinced that this story does full justice to the memory of those who died. I hope you do not feel I have been disrepectful in using this day to write this critique because I am confident the opposite is the case.