"When I read from my book now, there's police protection everywhere"
C. Bernd Sucher has written a book about Jewish life in Germany after the Shoah. It is called "Unsichere Heimat". Before it went to press, there were plans to put a question mark behind the title. After October 7, this is no longer up for discussion, the author tells ntv.de.
ntv.de: You begin your new book "Unsichere Heimat" with the statement that Jews make up less than one percent of the population in Germany and then describe in great detail that they are nevertheless very visible as a group. Do Jews get the wrong attention in this country?
C. Bernd Sucher: The crazy thing is that hardly any Germans ever meet a Jew. With 220,000 Jews and 83 million people in this country, it's also relatively difficult. I always say it's like winning the lottery. That's why being Jewish is associated with prejudices. They say Jews are rich, Jews are particularly intelligent. But there are also a lot of stupid Jews.
Where do these prejudices come from?
First there is the idea that the Jews are our misfortune and that the Jews have too much influence. Only then do people look for characteristics that they might not like about Jews. They look for circumstances and conditions for which they need scapegoats. Before October 7, it was also said that the Jews had invented corona and then developed the vaccine for Jews first.
Would less visibility be good?
Yes, after all, visibility comes from outside. Visibility comes from Israel, from the state of this country, from the wars that are being waged there. About the settlement policy. I am very much in favour of criticizing this settlement policy. But the Jews are mainly in focus because of Israel and less because of what happens here in this country.
And through the politics of remembrance that you are working on.
The problem with this kind of politics of remembrance is that it comes from politicians who say that we must not forget what happened in the Holocaust. It's like a father telling his children: you must not forget. But at some point, the children get tired of hearing that all the time. And the citizens of this country are tired of it too. This "never again" haunts all speeches like a ghost, but it doesn't reach those who need to support it.
In your book, you repeatedly quote from speeches by German presidents. The repetition clearly reveals their formulaic nature. But is it an alternative to admit that we cannot prevent anti-Semitism?
Of course we can. It would be impressive if a German president were to stand up and say that we've been trying since 1945, it's now 2023 and we haven't succeeded. You just have to admit it to yourself: We've tried everything, we've restored synagogues, we've set up Jewish museums, we've organized discussion events. All of this, without the majority of the population being involved.
Would that really be helpful?
No, it wouldn't be helpful. But it would at least stop this "never again". And the "there will be no anti-Semitism on German soil" - knowing full well that while they are saying this, anti-Semitism is raging in their immediate surroundings: That Stars of David are once again emblazoned on houses and "Don't buy from Jews" signs.
Your book is called Insecure Homeland. Those are two words that don't really go together for me. Aren't they mutually exclusive?
Before the book was published, there was a discussion: shouldn't we put a question mark after "Unsichere Heimat"? I always resisted that. And now, for the next editions, we're thinking about putting an exclamation mark behind this uncertain homeland. After October 7, I would say: let's do it with an exclamation mark.
What is your home?
Ultimately, I realize that home for me is not Chiemgau, not Munich and not Hamburg, where I grew up. Home is my language, my culture. If you see it that way, then home is always safe, you take it with you. But if you see home as a place, then it is uncertain. If any place is home at all, then for almost 20 years it has been our house near the Chiemsee and near the farms of our farmer friends, who serve me chicken or turkey and not pork.
You describe very vividly in your book that the protection of Jewish life is necessary, but that this also isolates Jews. It's going to stay that way for the foreseeable future, isn't it?
Until now I always thought okay, you're a German who has a Jewish mother and is Jewish in that way and sometimes goes to synagogue. But suddenly being Jewish becomes so much more important than being German. When I read from my book now, there is police protection everywhere - even in the smallest adult education center. And that makes me realize that there are people who want me to read. But there are also people who don't want me to live.
What would a safe home be like for you?
A safe homeland would be if a Jew no longer had to be protected. If you understood that protection always sends out signals: You are special. Especially insofar as there are enough people who don't actually want to protect you. If there's a police car outside a house somewhere today, in whatever part of town, then we all know that there are obviously Jews inside. Germany will only be safe when this thought is no longer in people's minds.
Of course, I can't really imagine that. But I have felt this visibility in the last few days, at least to some extent, because I read your book and then sat with it on the bus here in Berlin. I sometimes thought about it: Does it endanger me that I'm driving around with a book that has a person with a kippah on it?
I think that's nice of you to say that. You're probably not Jewish.
No.
I don't dare go out in public with this book either, holding it in such a way that you can see the cover. I'm careful to only show the back cover, and if someone sees this kippah and says, "You're reading some shitty Jewish book," that would be enough. That would hurt you.
That's why I was able to relate to it when they explained how much the attribution from the outside changes self-perception and suddenly becomes so important.
Just one example: parallel to the reading from this book, I'm also doing a series of lectures that has nothing to do with Judaism. And then the directors say, dear Mr. Sucher, you are welcome to give a lecture with us, but we don't dare let you perform without the police. You have to imagine that: A lecture on Schiller and you need police protection because the person giving the lecture is Jewish. Nobody asked about that before October 7.
Do you have any hope that this will change in the foreseeable future?
You're a bit younger than me: if you're lucky, you'll live for at least another 60 years and nothing will change in those 60 years. Not even the police protection.
I don't want to offend you now, but at over 70 years old: What are you hoping for? That things don't get any worse?
Well, if I say now that I'm hopeless - that's not true either. But after what's happening right now, I don't think I'll live to see a turnaround.
In your book, you talk about how grateful you are when someone writes you a card on a Jewish holiday. Are thereoften such small gestures of"good Jewish visibility"?
As a child, I had a friend and we had completely lost sight of each other. She became aware of me again through the book and the interviews I'm currently giving. She recently got in touch and said: Bernd, if you don't know where to go anymore, why don't you come to Denmark? Signs like that are nice now.
But they're also pretty sad, aren't they? It can be quite unsettling when you start to think, should I really be doing this?
You're absolutely right. In 1933, people said: "Watch out, now you have to walk around with the yellow star, come and see me". The offer now, "You can find shelter with me" is not one-to-one the same. But it's not much different.
Lukas Wessling spoke to C. Bernd Sucher
Read also:
Given the increase in hostility towards Jews in Germany, international actions against antisemitism are increasingly important. The author, C. Bernd Sucher, highlights the need for international support in combating antisemitism, as the visibility of Jews in Germany often leads to prejudices and misconceptions.
The Israeli-Palestinian conflict has often served as a catalyst for antisemitic rhetoric and actions in Germany and beyond. While criticizing Israeli policies is a valid expression of opinion, the author argues that the focus on Israel often overshadows the everyday experiences of Jews in Germany, perpetuating a harmful stereotype that equates Judaism with Israeli politics.
Source: www.ntv.de
