June 7



GERMANY:

HOLOCAUST SURVIVORS

Former Nazi Ghetto Workers Get Cheated -- Again


According to German law, Holocaust survivors who worked in a ghetto are
entitled to a German pension. But most requests are refused - in some
cases on absurd grounds. Will the last survivors die before the German
government pays them their due?

In the summer of 1941, Schlomo Aronson went in for a short, friendly job
interview. A Warsaw branch of the Chemnitzer Astrawerke AG was searching
for people who could assemble calculating machines. When Aronson answered
yes to the interviewer's curt question, "Do you speak German?" he received
a pair of grey overalls and was told he could immediately start work.
Payment was to be in cash, probably according to the pay scale of the
German metalworking industry. "Had I not been trapped in the Warsaw
Ghetto," remembers the 80-year-old who now lives in a suburb of Tel Aviv,
"it would have just been a normal job."

Aronson ended up one of the tens of thousands of Jews who worked for
peanuts in order to further German companies under the Nazi regime. In the
ghettos of Eastern Europe, where Nazis forced Jews to live in crowded,
unsanitary conditions, German officials and businessmen found a plethora
of cheap labor. Unlike slave laborers, however, these workers did receive
small salaries, although in most cases the sums were laughable. Some
ghettos even had a job center that administered the job openings.

Yet, years after the war, when the young workers who survived eased into
retirement age, German Social Security offices repeatedly refused claims
that they -- like all workers -- deserve a government pension. To solve
the controversy, the Bundestag, the German parliament, three years ago
passed a law mandating that those who worked in a ghetto be compensated.
(Gesetz zur Zahlbarmachung von Renten aus Beschaftigungen in einem Ghetto,
known as the ZRBG). It was one instance in which both the government and
the opposition agreed wholeheartedly about a proposal. Finally, exclaimed
members of the opposition Christian Democratic Party, the shameful gap in
compensation would be closed. The Greens, too rejoiced at the
non-bureaucratic way a solution was reached and predicted that deserving
workers "would soon receive payments."

The bitter reality

But reality did not stick to the law. For most applicants, hope continues
to end at the German Social insurance administration. Of 67,000
applicants, so far only 4,000 have received any sort of payment.

The high rejection rate is shaping into a diplomatic problem for
German-Israeli relations, as every second applicant now lives in Israel.
As the two countries celebrate their 40th anniversary of diplomatic
relations, behind the scenes, the governments are, unbelievably, still
fighting over compensation from Nazi-era crimes.

Several members of the Israeli cabinet complained to the Federal Minister
of Social Security Ulla Schmidt (SPD) about the endless bureaucracy of the
German system and that the law was not being applied in full. But Schmidt
rebuffed all allegations. "A restrictive implementation of the ZRBG has
not been detected within the Social Security offices," she said.

One question central to the controversy is just how free were the
inhabitants of the ghettos and how much control did they have over their
daily lives. Ironically, it is to a worker's advantage to prove he or she
had more -- rather than less -- free will. That's because the law only
grants a pension if the work "was done voluntarily." Although the pensions
these workers are fighting for come out to the tiny sum of about 130 a
month, for them, it is the principle that matters. As such, the clause
about work being voluntary is pivotal as without it, many forced laborers
would also be eligible for government distributed retirement funds. That
is not to say that these slave laborers are not entitled to anything. In
fact, since summer 2000, a special federal trust has been allotted to
distribute compensation to them.

Even the government in Berlin admits that the requirements needed to
receive compensation are tough to meet. And for those charged with proving
how much free will a worker had, it is, as State Secretary Franz Thoennes
explained to the German parliament. After all, how do you "search for
evidence of free will in places that were specifically created to deny
freedom?" A certain degree of goodwill would aide the situation, a degree
of goodwill the German Social Insurance administrations seems to lack.
They hone the applications for the smallest contradictions and demand
documents from people who barely came out of the Nazi terror alive.

Schlomo Aronson's application was, for example, denied by the LVA
(Regional Pension Insurance Institution) Dusseldorf, the branch
responsible for survivors living in Israel. The reason? In an earlier
questionnaire, he had said that in 1956, he was forced to be a slave
laborer. His statement was true. But it did not mean he had not been a
nominally paid labourer before that. After 1942, when Astrawerke shut
down, Aronson was forced to work for nothing.

For many Jews, however, the horrendous conditions of Ghetto life made
holding even normal jobs terribly stressful. As such, the Federal
Insurance Institution for Employees, insists that these circumstances
should be considered when dealing with applicants. As such, it insists,
"former (contradictory) claims that they were slave laborers" should be
understood subjectively. For indeed, when one is persecuted, one might
feel one is working as a slave labourer, even if one was nominally paid.
As such, former claims, said the institution, "should not be used against
applicants if the applicant now elaborates on the actual circumstances."
Still, the letters denying the applications speak their own language.

Free will or forced labor?

Another frustrating, but very real possibility, is that many of those who
got pay knew nothing of it. In some cases, as a July 5, 1940 letter from
the German governor of the occupied Polish territories suggests, the
workers' salaries went straight to the Jewish community. For these
workers, there is little hope, as only those who recall being paid have
claims to the pensions proscribed by law.

Another big problem for applicants is that all too often, the most simple
ghetto jobs are quickly dismissed as forced labor. "The sort of work you
claim in having done (road works, cleaning jobs)," the LVA Rheinprovinz
brought forward in several cases, "are typical cases of work not resulting
from free will and which were usually not done for pay."

Documents, however, prove the opposite. For example, the town council of
Sosnowiece had a pay roll for its "Jewish skilled and unskilled laborers"
who worked cleaning roads. Two years ago, the problem came to a head and
seemed to reach something of a resolution at a meeting between German
representatives of the pension funds and delegates from the Israeli
national insurance. "A differentiation of forced labor and work in a
ghetto cannot be determined by the kind of work done," the protocol of the
meeting reads. It is signed by a delegate of the LVA Rheinprovinz. But in
practice -- as in so many other cases -- nothing has changed in the way
applications are handled or funds granted.

Holocaust survivor Lea Rebisch sits in her living room in Tel Aviv and is
holds a letter from Dusseldorf in her hand. Rebisch is 75 years old. She
was 11 when the Nazis locked her, her mother and her older sister into the
Ozorkow ghetto. The three worked sewing fur collars to soldiers' jackets
in a factory outside the ghetto. They were watched all day by armed
guards. Although they did the same work, only Rebisch's older sister --
who died last year -- received a ghetto pension.

It "cannot be determined without doubt that you were a seamstress for
rabbit fur and that you were considered a normal employee," her letter
reads. The reason? Lea Rebisch was too young to really work. "It's a lie,"
she says, outraged. "My ghetto work has been testified to by witnesses."

Youth is a common reason German bureaucrats use to refuse an application.
Pension authorities have even gone so far as to claim that in those
ostensibly lawless times, child labor was "generally forbidden." To prove
so, they cite the April 30, 1938 Law for the Protection of Youths.

Rebisch is fighting the refusal with her Berlin lawyer Simona Reppenhagen,
who represents a large number of the 12,000 former ghetto inhabitants. Of
course, it can take time until the paperwork gets processed and a judge
decides on the case. And none of the survivors are getting any younger.
"By now I receive as many refused applications as death certificates,"
Reppenhagen says.

In March, Natan Sharansky, who this month stepped down as Minister of
Diaspora Affairs, sent a five-page letter of complaint to Berlin Minister
of Social Affairs Ulla Schmidt. In the letter, he said, "I fear that most
of the Holocaust survivors won't live to see their application granted."
Until today, neither he -- nor his replacement -- has received an answer.

(source: Der Spiegel)




USA//SOUTH CAROLINA:

Artist commemorates Holocaust


Artist and professor Roy Strassberg still remembers the concentration camp
numbers tattooed on the arm of one of his aunts.

To commemorate the lives of his Jewish relatives who were victims of the
Nazis, he has created Holocaust Bone Structures, showing at USCs McMaster
Gallery.

He's done so many pieces during the past 12 years, 25 of which are in the
exhibition, that he cant come up with a solid number.

"I've never counted them," he said. "It's an ongoing, sequential piece."

With both bachelors and masters degrees in art, Strassberg received a
grant while working in Minnesota to study the Holocaust. But the idea of
creating artwork with this theme came to him years before.

Depending on the complexity, some of the bone-shaped ceramic sculptures
take days, others a month.

"(I) tried to find a metaphor that made sense," Strassberg said.

A part of the exhibition he refers to as the train series is a very
abstract form to commemorate the methods of transportation in the
Holocaust. He considers this some of his most important work.

Another part of the exhibition, Black Angel, are painted clay pieces.
Strassberg said he is particularly excited about this work, which he is
still creating.

"My work is very puzzlelike, so there is a lot of trial and error," he
said.

Despite his excitement, taking a look at the exhibition in person can be
very difficult for him emotionally. Though not a very religious person, he
felt he had to do this, and he has achieved unbelievable satisfaction from
it. He's happy that his father has been able to witness this project.

"It's my way to connect with my culture," he said. "I try to think of
myself as a very humane person. It's something that I can't not do."

The exhibition runs through June 30. McMaster Gallery is at 1615 Senate
St. Hours are 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Monday through Friday. For more
information, call (803) 777-7480.

(source: The State)