Jewish Holocaust survivor, a socialist, activist and author, links her long ago Holocaust experience with her hopes for a socialist, humanist, and earth-loving society.
Our beloved friend, mentor, teacher, author, archivist, historian, musician and tireless fighter for Romani human rights, our dear Ron is gone. Ron you have taught and inspired us. You will live in our memory and our hearts. (January 26, 2020)
Ronald Lee was an extraordinary historian of the Roma people. John Riddell and I visited him on a rainy December 29 in St. Peters’ Hospital long-term care facility in Hamilton. He greeted us with a strong handshake and reviewed his life and personal work with animation and enthusiasm. Ron is a Romani Canadian born in Montreal who spent World War 2 in England by happenstance with friends of his parents. He returned in 1945 to Montreal, where he spent most of his adult life.
Ronald Lee
A self-educated scholar, Ron Lee became a Romani activist, journalist, linguist, and published author on the history of the Romani people. He lectured extensively for colleges, universities, and elementary and high schools in Canada and the US, and taught a seminar on the Romani diaspora at New College, University of Toronto in 2003-2008. He received an honorary degree at Queens University in 2014. For a selection of his writings see his website http://kopachi.com/
With high school friends in Clermont-Ferrand, May 2017
Below is an article reports on Suzanne Berliner Weiss’s discussions in 2017 with high-school students in Clermont-Ferrand, capital of the French region of Auvergne. For a fuller account of her visit and discussions, see Chapter 31 of her book ‘Holocaust to Resistance: My Journey’ (pp. 285-295). The book can be purchase from Fernwood Publishers. The text by Sophie Leclanché is translated from French by John Riddell.
Suzanne Berliner Weiss came to Auvergne to speak of all those who protected her when she was a young Jewish child and to thank them collectively.
Her repeated visits to Auvergne do not aim merely at identifying names and locations. It’s also to say “thanks”. Thanks to the people of Auvergne as a whole and also in particular to those who enabled her to survive and flourish. Suzanne was a hidden Jewish child somewhere in France, probably in Auvergne. Suzanne will recount what she has experienced to high-school and college students in Clermont-Ferrand.
Her aim lies
not so much in revealing facts buried in her memory but in underlining the
importance of “acting in the same spirit as the Auvergnats.” As a survivor, she
identifies these essential qualities as “solidarity, generosity and love,” speaking
in a French that sparkles more than it hesitates. Cautious and respectful, Suzanne
does not presume to talk of French politics. But as a left-wing activist, she
stresses the need, everywhere and always, to “address the challenges that we
face.”
Here is the video of my talk at the October 18 launch of my book, Holocaust to Resistance: My Journey, before an unexpectedly large and very appreciative audience of about 140. It was a mix of activists in the social struggles over the years, as outlined in the book, and personal friends including neighbors and their children, hearing provider and assistant, pharmacist and husband, my hair dresser and friend, personal trainer and friend, physio-therapist, and various personal friends uninvolved in political activities. My son, Jonathan, was also present, as well as my longtime friend, Laurie who traveled from Texas.
Holocaust to Resistance book launch audience Oct. 18, 2019
If you are in a group or organization that would like a presentation by Suzanne Berliner Weiss, please get in touch with me through Suzanne Weiss on Facebook. I look forward to hearing from you.
Suzanne Weiss was born in Paris in
1941, during the German occupation. Her Ukrainian father was a prisoner of war.
Her mother, a left-wing Polish refugee, was deported from France in 1943 and
died later that year in Auschwitz.
Weiss was one of thousands of Jewish
children who were rescued by an underground network of Jewish and gentile
groups. They placed these youngsters with families and in children’s homes
throughout southern France.
A long-time political and social
activist, Weiss spoke about her experience as a young Holocaust survivor and
her 2017 visit to Auvergne, the region where she was hidden, in Toronto on Jan.
31. The event was organized by IfNotNow Toronto – which is dedicated to
fighting anti-Semitism, building a Jewish community that values inclusivity and
justice, and challenging community support for Israel’s occupation of the West
Bank – to mark International Holocaust Remembrance Day.
On July 16, 1942, French police
arrested 13,150 Jewish refugees. They were herded into the Velodrome d’Hiver
(Vel’ d’Hiv) and soon after sent to extermination camps, Weiss recounted.
“Almost all of them were killed. Why was I spared? I have pieced the story
together.”
She and her mother, Faiga Berliner,
escaped the “Vel’ d’Hiv round-up,” and headed south, but they ended up in a
German transit camp with other Jewish refugees. Weiss was smuggled out and
eventually placed with a family in Auvergne, a region in southern France
governed by the Vichy regime.
“Faiga had to entrust me to a
left-wing Jewish organization. They placed me with a nursemaid, a non- Jewish
nanny,” recalls Weiss.
Jewish parents like her mother
“understood that they had to hide their children.… A network of anti-Nazi
resisters saved the children by dispersing them.”
Some were sent to live with gentile
families, while others were placed in orphanages. “They were hidden in plain
sight of all,” she said.
These French villagers and clergy
risked their lives to save Jewish children. A network of organizations provided
stipends to the gentile families and institutions, to care for the children,
Weiss explained.
The Buchners, friends of her father’s
who were in the Jewish resistance, also looked out for her, Weiss said,
pointing out that an important mission of the French Jewish resistance was to
save Jewish lives.
She still does not know the name of the
family, or even the village, where she was placed. “I remember nothing. I was
on a peasant farm with a family who had wanted to adopt me,” she said. “I owe
my life to the hospitality of that family.”
Weiss did, however, recall that after
the war, she was located by her father, Aron Itzkovitch. One of her first
memories is of her desire to remain with the French family. “They fought to
keep me. I was unwilling to go,” said Weiss. “He took my arm and pulled me
away.”
He returned her to the Jewish
community and died shortly thereafter. She lived in a Jewish orphanage in Paris
for five years, until she was adopted by the Weisses, a left-wing
Jewish-American couple.
“I was brought up with people in the
orphanages who promoted justice, love, peace and solidarity. That was their
Judaism,” she said. “That was my Judaism. I believe that was the Judaism of my
natural parents. It was the Judaism of my adopted parents. They were against
segregation, apartheid, the death penalty and fascism.”
When she visited the French town of
Clermont-Ferrand, in the Auvergne region, in 2017, Weiss took the opportunity
to thank the people of that area for their bravery, solidarity and generosity.
“During the occupation, they accepted
a diversity of refugees. The people of Auvergne saved the lives of thousands of
people,” said Weiss.
“They wove a fabric of solidarity and
built a long chain to save lives and change the course of history.
“We have to apply the same humanity to refugees and those fleeing authoritarian regimes.”
Holocaust to Resistance: My Journey, by Suzanne Berliner Weiss, reviewed by: Sharon Chisvin in Winnipeg Free Press. 10/26/2019.
Suzanne
Berliner Weiss has dedicated her life to improving the welfare of others. It is
an honourable and admirable pursuit — especially considering the tragedy and
trauma that characterized Weiss’s early life.
Weiss, who was born in France, spent years in the
United States and now lives in Toronto, chronicles that past in her moving and
motivating memoir Holocaust to Resistance: My Journey.
Written with clarity and honesty, and few embellishments, the memoir explores
Weiss’s life as a hidden child during the Holocaust, as a child adopted by an
American couple after the Holocaust and as a socialist and activist throughout
her adult life.
Weiss’s
biological parents were progressive Polish and Ukrainian Jews living in France
when Germany occupied the country. Determined to keep their young daughter
alive, they arranged for her to be hidden with a rural Christian family. At
war’s end, Weiss’s father came to fetch her but, mortally wounded, he left her
in the care of a friend who later sent her to an orphanage. Weiss’s mother
never appeared; she had been murdered in Auschwitz.
VIGNETTE #5: A brief excerpt from ‘Holocaust to Resistance’
We went down what seemed an uncertain aluminum ladder to the empty hold of the ship. These vessels would carry coal, ores, oils, and grains. Our job was to clean the area to receive the next product. I slowly adjusted to the dimly lit empty space, which reeked of unidentifiable odours. With scraper and pail, I stood on a rung of one of the many thirty-foot aluminum ladders leaning against the iron walls.
We went down what seemed an uncertain aluminum ladder to the empty hold of the ship. These vessels would carry coal, ores, oils, and grains. Our job was to clean the area to receive the next product. I slowly adjusted to the dimly lit empty space, which reeked of unidentifiable odours.
With scraper and pail, I stood on a rung of one of the many thirty-foot aluminum ladders leaning against the iron walls. I mimicked my co-workers, stretching out to scrape the crusted metal wall.
My face soon broke into a sweat as I alternated from one hand to the other. My gloves were covered with wall scrapings; when I wiped my itchy nose, I smeared my face. Perspiration hugged my clothes to my body, and the humid air tested my gut. I wondered whether I’d make it through the shift.
That evening I called Bernie at the union. “Where ya at, baby?” he greeted.
“Fine, thank you.” I pretended that
the job was a breeze.
“Where do I go next?”
“Tomorra evenin’ at seven. At the Perrier dock.” I was surprised that I, the only white woman, was being given a chance to work this dirty and difficult job. Perhaps the union reps figured I wouldn’t last long. The work was indeed demanding for a woman unused to arduous physical labour. With a whole day to recover, I showered, ate a bowl of canned soup, and went to bed. The next evening, I joined the night crew of mostly young Black women. As we scraped the walls, high-pitched voices talked noisily and shouted greetings across the ladders.
#4: A brief excerpt from ‘Holocaust to Resistance’
It was June 1960, the day after my arrival (in New York City. While I was on 42nd Street in Manhattan, I heard a loud commotion and walked over to investigate. A thick circle of men was gathered around a speaker, who was holding a Bible while pointing to a man in their midst. “You and your people, the Jews, crucified Christ,” the speaker yelled.
I flared up in righteous anger. “Love
thy neighbour! That’s what Jesus said,” I responded in a truly thunderous
voice. The speaker tried to continue but I kept shouting, “Love thy neighbour!”
I pushed my way through the crowd to
the Jewish man. He looked quite shaken. I took him firmly by the arm and walked
with him toward the subway. That did it. The speaker tried to push on but the
crowd dispersed.
In the years to follow I often reflected on that incident. Yes, it showed the power of love. More precisely, it showed the power of love expressed through determined action — the power of solidarity.
Holocaust to Resistance,My Journeyby Suzanne Weiss (Fernwood Publishing, 2019, 22.00)
To live a successful life
To laugh often and much; to win the respect of the intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that one life has breathed easier because you lived here. This is to have succeeded.
– Ralph Waldo Emerson, cited by Palestinian professor and activist, Mazin Qumsiyeh
#3: A brief excerpt from ‘Holocaust to Resistance’
When I arrived from war-scarred France, I thought the United States, my new home, was a land of liberty, freedom, love, and comfort. I entered grammar school and began to learn its true nature. It tore my heart.
Suzanne, 12 years old.
Louis Weiss, my adoptive father, was proud to have sung as a young man in the opera chorus in a performance of Boris Godunov in Moscow, Russia. Russia! At school, the word was spoken with hate and fear. Often, my parents invited their “progressive” friends over, and I got to listen to their chatter. They didn’t mention Russia but spoke of the Soviet Union with respect. When I asked questions, they used guarded terms. “Progressives” were the good people, and as for those who were “against us,” that was everyone else.
Here’s what I had to say about the “IHRA re-definition” of anti-Semitism September 30, 2019, during a meeting with Gordon Perks of the Toronto City Council. Another councillor has given notice of intention to ask for formal council support of the ill-conceived IHRA document.
The
last of the Definition’s eleven proposed examples of anti-Semitism condemns “holding
Jews collectively responsible for actions of the state of Israel.”
I agree. Jews are not collectively responsible for the actions of Israel’s government. But this principle must be applied to the Definition itself. Put to that test, the IHRA Definition itself is anti-Semitic in conception.
