David Nasaw has written a
marvelous book that deeply resonated with me.
The Last Million: Europe’s Displaced Persons from World War to Cold War
is a meticulously researched book dealing with the human aftermath of WWII. The convulsions and destruction of the war were
so vast and the administration of the countries devastated by the war, the
immediate onset of the Cold War, and lingering antisemitism and fears of
displaced Jews and survivors of the camps together created difficulties for the
Allies for years.
These were people with no place
to go—Lithuanians, Poles, Ukrainians, along with European Jews that were
liberated from Hitler’s camps. Their
homes had been destroyed, their livelihoods taken from them. They were caught between the West and the
Soviet partitioning of Europe, with a Soviet Union that sought to gobble up
parts of war-torn Europe.
The Displaced Persons (DP) camps
presented a terrible sorting problem for the U.S. and U.K. As post-war labor shortages loomed, Western
nations were also facing pressure from the Soviets to repatriate peoples from
the territories over which they had dominion and control. Most of the Lithuanians, Poles and Ukrainians
were fiercely anti-Communists and did not wish to return to their Soviet
dominated homeland.
The most difficult and wrenching
issue were the Jews, who were so horribly abused by the Third Reich. Nasaw notes that there were no Jewish
children or elderly in the DP camps—they had been killed by the Nazi regime. The Brits actively blocked them from being
resettled in Palestine out of the concern that it would trigger bloodshed with
the Arabs. They often couldn’t go back
to their homes and the Americans didn’t give them priority either, and many
foundered for years in these camps.
Jared Kushner’s grandmother spent 3 ½ years in a DP camp. “Nobody wanted us,” she said.
The book clarified a great deal with me. I grew up
among these people in the 60’s and early 70’s in Chicago. While my family fortunately was here before
the war (my grandfather slipped out of Austria in 1929), the parents of many of
my friends either escaped the Stalin deportations from Lithuania or were Poles
from the DP camps. Indeed, two
parishes—one Lithuanian and one Polish were adjacent to each other a few blocks
away (they have since been combined and to this day the parish says Masses in
Lithuanian and Polish).
Many of these people were
reluctant to speak about their wartime and post-wartime experiences, although
all were virulently anti-Communist. I still recall some of the antisemitism
that permeated the community. “He’s only
crying because he can’t keep the money,” I recall one Lithuanian saying as he
watched Jerry Lewis break down at the end of one of his telethons. There were a few more insidious characters as
well. One of my friends disclosed that
he had seen his father’s Waffen-SS uniform in a box in the attic. One saloon keeper actually fought for the
Wehrmacht and would sometimes show his scars to patrons. I
recall an instance in which young children were gathered round a two-flat
chanting “Nazi. Nazi” where a middle aged man lived alone in an attic apartment
and didn’t interact with his neighbors.
Nonetheless, there were a few Jews that lived peaceably in the
community—mostly small shopkeepers.
Nasam’s book gripped me in many
respects. Growing up, I was oblivious to
what these people experienced and endured during the war and its immediate
aftermath. He reminded me of the trials
that they endured, and yet, torn from their community, transported to a place
where they didn’t know the language, they were able to piece their lives back
together, raise families and live together in peace—sometimes along side people
they had fought against a few years earlier.
The problems of sorting and
vetting immigrants are still with us, decades later. The advent of the Cold War and the absence of
documentation prevented us from doing a robust job of screening out Nazi
collaborators and war criminals and bringing them to justice decades ago. We are similarly today locked in a political
battle to prevent human traffickers,
MS-13 members and drug dealers from slipping across our border. We had a tremendous problem vetting refugees
from war torn Syria and the travel ban imposed by Trump on terrorist hotbeds
caused great controversy.
Somehow, we generally do seem to
muddle through and incorporate these peoples into our country.
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