The Holocaust, one of the most devastating atrocities in human history, claimed the lives of millions and left an indelible mark on global consciousness. Its remembrance, enshrined in the phrase "Never Again," was intended to be a universal call to prevent genocide and protect all peoples from systematic annihilation. However, as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict continues to unfold, Holocaust memory has been increasingly narrowed to focus solely on Jewish victimhood, weaponized to smear and silence legitimate critique of Israel’s actions. This article explores four critical points that illuminate this troubling trend: the Zionist tendency to equate Palestinians with Nazis, the sidelining of other Holocaust victims, Jewish collaboration during the Holocaust, and the flourishing of the Zionist project amidst the genocide. These dynamics reveal how "Never Again" has been distorted from a universal principle into a shield for Israeli policies, undermining its original intent.
A pervasive tactic in Zionist discourse is to label Palestinians and their supporters as Nazis, drawing on historical narratives to delegitimize their cause. A notable example is the claim that Haj Amin al-Husseini, the Mufti of Jerusalem, incited Adolf Hitler to commit the Holocaust—a narrative amplified by figures like Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in 2015. Despite historical evidence showing the "Final Solution" was underway by mid-1941, before the Mufti’s meeting with Hitler in November of that year, this claim persists as a rhetorical tool. Contemporary Israeli rhetoric often reinforces this narrative through dehumanizing language, portraying Palestinians as an existential threat akin to the Third Reich. Such rhetoric justifies extreme measures—like sieges and aid blockades—while smearing critics of Israel’s policies as Nazi sympathizers, stifling legitimate critique under the weight of Holocaust memory.
The Holocaust targeted not only Jews but also Roma, homosexuals, people with disabilities, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and other groups deemed "undesirable" by the Nazi regime. Estimates suggest 200,000–500,000 Roma were killed in the Porajmos, up to 15,000 homosexuals were sent to concentration camps, and 200,000–250,000 people with disabilities were murdered under the T4 euthanasia program. Yet, mainstream Holocaust remembrance often centers exclusively on Jewish victimhood. This narrowing sidelines the suffering of other groups, limiting the universal application of "Never Again."
This selective memory has profound implications for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. By framing the Holocaust as a uniquely Jewish tragedy, the narrative prioritizes Jewish security—embodied in the state of Israel—over the rights of other oppressed groups, including Palestinians. Policies like sieges and aid blockades create humanitarian crises for Palestinians, yet their suffering is often ignored in narratives that prioritize Jewish security. If "Never Again" truly meant preventing genocide for all, it would apply to Palestinians facing such conditions, but the narrowed focus on Jewish victimhood excludes their suffering from this moral framework.
The narrative of Jews as solely victims of the Holocaust is complicated by
historical evidence of Jewish collaboration with Nazi systems, often driven by
survival or pragmatism. Approximately 150,000 men of Jewish descent—60,000
"half-Jews" and 90,000 "quarter-Jews"—served in the Wehrmacht, some receiving
high honors like the Knight’s Cross, often with Hitler’s explicit consent.
Many joined to avoid persecution or protect their families, navigating a brutal
system that discriminated against them (e.g., bans on promotions for
"half-Jews"). Similarly, the 1933 Haavara Agreement between Nazi Germany and
Zionist organizations allowed 60,000 Jews to emigrate to Palestine with $100
million (equivalent to $2 billion today), breaking the international Jewish
boycott of German goods and indirectly supporting the Nazi economy.
This collaboration parallels the Mufti’s actions, which are often cited to blame Palestinians for the Holocaust. The Mufti sought Nazi support to counter British and Zionist forces, much like the Haavara Agreement prioritized Jewish emigration over broader resistance. Yet, only the Mufti’s collaboration is weaponized to indict all Palestinians, while Jewish involvement is treated as an exception. This double standard is evident in contemporary policies: Israel perpetrates actions—such as aid blockades and sieges—that harm Palestinian civilians. The irony is stark: a state founded on "Never Again" engages in policies that mirror the collective punishment tactics it condemns, revealing how Holocaust memory is used to shield Israel from critique while smearing Palestinians as Nazi-like aggressors.
The Holocaust significantly accelerated the Zionist project of establishing a
Jewish state in Palestine, often at the expense of the Palestinian population.
The Haavara Agreement facilitated the emigration of 60,000 Jews and transferred
substantial funds, strengthening the demographic and economic base for a future
Israel. Between 1931 and 1945, the Jewish population in Palestine grew from
174,610 to 553,600, largely due to refugees fleeing Nazi persecution.
Diplomatically, the Holocaust galvanized international support for a Jewish
state, culminating in the 1947 UN Partition Plan and Israel’s establishment in
1948. This came at a cost: the Nakba displaced 700,000 Palestinians, a direct
consequence of the Zionist project’s success amidst the Holocaust.
This historical trajectory continues to impact Palestinians, as seen in policies like sieges and aid blockades, which create unlivable conditions and perpetuate displacement. Palestinians often describe themselves as the "final victims" of the Nazis, bearing the consequences of European guilt over the Holocaust through their own dispossession. The Mufti narrative further justifies this treatment by framing Palestinians as a historical threat, silencing critique of Israel’s actions by invoking Holocaust memory. The success of Zionism, rooted in the Holocaust, thus becomes a tool to deflect accountability for contemporary policies, narrowing "Never Again" to mean protection for Jews alone, rather than a universal stand against genocide.
Holocaust memory, intended as a universal call to prevent genocide, has been
narrowed to focus on Jewish victimhood and weaponized to smear and silence
legitimate critique of Israel’s actions. The Zionist tendency to equate
Palestinians with Nazis, the sidelining of other Holocaust victims, the double
standard in addressing Jewish collaboration, and the historical flourishing of
Zionism at the expense of Palestinians all contribute to this distortion.
Contemporary policies—such as sieges and aid blockades—demonstrate how this
narrowed memory justifies Palestinian suffering while shielding Israel from
accountability.
"Never Again" was meant to mean never again genocide, not never again Jews as victims. Its original intent was to protect all peoples from systematic annihilation, regardless of identity. By reclaiming this universal principle, we can broaden Holocaust memory to include all victims—Jews, Roma, homosexuals, and others—and extend its moral lessons to address contemporary atrocities, including those faced by Palestinians. Only then can we honor the true spirit of "Never Again," fostering a dialogue that acknowledges interconnected traumas and seeks justice for all, rather than perpetuating division through the weaponization of history.