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Auschwitz, the reality of evil
(Ed. note: We received an inquiry from someone by the name of Richard Britton, who asked us whether we would consider printing something he had written about a recent visit he took to Auschwitz. Richard wrote: “May I send for your consideration an article (1050 words) I wrote following a recent visit to Auschwitz? This isn’t a ‘tour guide’ piece it’s about my personal reactions and outrage to what I saw and heard.”
We said we would. What follows is what Richard wrote:
I’m not entirely sure why I wanted to go to Auschwitz, the Nazi extermination camp in Poland – it was not the most obvious place to go for an Easter break! But I think it was prompted by something more than just morbid curiosity. A prominent local political figure – a Muslim whom I had known for several years – had made some anti-semitic comments which shocked me, happening as it did in my local community. It suddenly seemed a dangerously short step from anti-semitic remarks to persecution and violence against the Jews.
So against this background I wanted to try to understand the reality of the mechanistic killing of over a million Jews which took place there and to explore my own reactions when confronted with the hideous reality of genocide.
Born in 1942 I grew up in a small provincial town in the East Midlands. Although the war was very real for us – surrounded as we were by American Air Force bases – the enormity of the Holocaust didn’t really enter our consciousness until well into the 1950s. And it was not taught or talked about during my Grammar school years right up to 1960.
Although I am neither Jew nor Christian I think there was also an element of atonement – a wish to express my personal outrage at the enormity of the wickedness of cold, systematic murder.
Upon my return I find I have difficulty in processing and coming to terms with what I have seen and learned about those frightful wartime years in Poland. Writing this is, I think, part of that process. I don’t want to write a tour guide – there’s plenty of information readily available on the Internet. Instead I want to explain my reaction to what I saw and heard – things I shall remember and ponder on for a long time to come.
There are two camps about an hour’s journey from Krakow: Auschwitz itself and, about a mile away, the industrialised killing centre of Birkenau where between one and one-and-a-half million Jews were murdered in little more than two years.
Auschwitz is entered via the infamous “Arbeit Macht Frei” gate and the museum there contains many disturbing exhibits including the luggage and personal possessions of the last trainloads of victims; items which had not yet been sent back to Germany when the camp was finally abandoned early in 1945 as the Russian army closed in.
There are piles of cooking pots and utensils (victims had been told to take with them what they would need for their ‘new lives after resettlement’); luggage of all kinds – carefully marked with the names or addresses of their owners; spectacles; prosthetic limbs; and human hair shorn from the victims of the gas chambers, some of it woven into a fabric.
Amongst the displays was a pile of shoes and there jumped out at me the sight of a small child’s very faded red shoe. I was stunned and shocked to a standstill in front of the display cabinet. Here was a direct and intimate connection with a real child – almost standing in front of me – who had been led to their death by their, perhaps unsuspecting, Mother. That child looked at me across the years. Here was reality.
Amongst other horrors to be seen in Auschwitz, there remains a small gas chamber where the use of Zyklon B cyanide pellets had been pioneered. Unlike the large gas-chamber at Birkenau it is intact and to stand in the very place where thousands of people were murdered was a frightful, chilling experience.
But the Nazis realised that a larger-scale and more efficient killing process was required to deliver their mass-extermination plans of the ‘Final Solution to the Jewish question’ and it is at Birkenau where the mind-blowing industrial scale of the killing of Jews and other undesirable ethnicities such as Romas, strikes home. Up to 2,000 people at a time could be murdered in the large Birkenau gas chamber. Murder by the trainload.
The Auschwitz museum contains some remarkable photographs of people being unloaded from a train onto the infamous ‘ramp’ at Birkenau with the obscene selection process already in progress. Probably taken from a guard tower they show confused and anxious people but the scene is very orderly – no panic or violence of any kind. Clearly, the arrivals had been carefully persuaded that they were being ‘resettled’ in a work camp.
Even standing on that very ramp shown in those photographs where Jews from across Europe were offloaded it is difficult to come to terms with the realisation that the majority of them would be dead in the next hour or so as a result of a casual, off-hand, life-or-death decision taken in a couple of seconds. That this is so far outside any understanding of human norms of morality and that it happened in the very place I was standing was almost incomprehensible.
Although the Nazis blew up the undressing room, gas chambers and crematoria at Birkenau in an effort to destroy the evidence of their crimes as the Russian advance neared the camp, the ruins can still be accessed and one stands before them mesmerised, humbled and angered.
Despite being at the very site where all this took place it is difficult to grasp the horror, evil and extent of the cold, casual routine of murder which took place there only 80 or so years ago – just as my own life was beginning.
This is the reality of genocidal anti-semitism. This is maniacal Fascism. This is routine state-backed mass murder, planned and conducted on a systematic industrial scale. This is pure evil and wickedness and it really happened. Perpetrated by real people against other people they judged inferior and undesirable is, alarmingly, recent history.
Of course there have been genocidal killings around the world since then. Sparked by racial, religious and cultural differences and fuelled by fear, hate and ignorance, they are a depressingly regular occurrence through history.
I’m glad I went to Auschwitz-Birkenau. I experienced astonishment, sadness, outrage and other sentiments I haven’t come to terms with yet. And great depression at the evidence of man’s inhumanity to man and the feeling that evil lies just beneath the surface in a great many of us.
I was gratified to hear that visiting Auschwitz and learning about the Holocaust is a part of the school curriculum for Polish children. I wish it was possible for all young people to visit. We must not allow what happened at Auschwitz and similar camps to simply fade into history.
I have not previously been engaged with Holocaust Day. Now I shall be.
Features
New autobiography by Holocaust survivor Hedy Bohm – who went on to testify in trials of two Nazi war criminals
Book Review by Julie Kirsh, Former Sun Media News Research Director
My parents were Hungarian Jewish Holocaust survivors who arrived in Toronto in 1951 without family or friends. In the late 50s my mother met Hedy Bohm outside of our downtown apartment and quickly connected with her. Both women had suffered the loss of all family in the Shoah. Over the years our families’ custom became sharing our dining table with the Bohm family for the Jewish high holidays. The tradition continues today with the second generation.
Hedy was born in 1928 in the city of Oradea in Romania. She was a pampered only child, adored by her father and very much attached to her mother. Although Hedy was an adolescent, she was kept from hearing about the rising anti-semitism around her in her hometown. She was protected and sheltered like any child. Memoirs from other adolescents like Elie Wiesel, aged 15 in Auschwitz, Samuel Pisar, liberated at 16, and Rabbi Israel Meir Lau, who was found in Buchenwald by American soldiers at age 8, made me wonder about the resilience and strength of children who survived like Hedy.
Hedy was only 16 years old when she walked through the gates of hell, Auschwitz-Birkenau. Hedy’s poignant retelling of this pivotal moment in her young life was the sudden separation from her father and moments later from her mother. Somehow Hedy’s mother got ahead of her upon their arrival at Auschwitz. Hedy called out to her. Her mother turned and they looked at each other. A Nazi guard prevented Hedy from joining her mother. Hedy has always been tormented by this moment of separation. Did her mother know that she was walking to her death?
Hedy writes that she was focused on survival in the camps. She concentrated on eating whatever food was given and keeping clean by washing daily in icy, cold water before the roll call. When she contracted diarrhea, she remembered her mother’s homemade remedy of gnawing on charred wood. Her naivete and innocence were overcome with a strong inner determination to stay alive so that she could see her mother again.
Hedy recounts the terrible hunger that everyone endured. One day, spotting some carrots in a warehouse, Hedy was appointed by her aunt to run and grab what she could. Luckily she evaded the armed guard who would have shot her on the spot.
On April 14, 1945, Hedy’s day of liberation, she learned the terrible fate of her mother. The return home for the survivors was a further tragedy when they realized the loss of family and community.
In her memoir, Hedy describes meeting Imre, an older boy from her town whom she eventually married. Their flight from Romania to Budapest to Pier 21 in Halifax to Toronto is documented in harrowing detail.
Hedy recounts how in Toronto no one wanted to know the stories of the survivors. This was a world before Eichmann’s trial in Israel in 1961 and the TV series, The Holocaust, in 1978. The floodgates for information from the survivors opened late in their lives.
In Toronto, after many failed enterprises, Imre and Hedy stumbled onto the shoe selling business. In 1959, they leased a small shoe store close to Honest Ed’s in downtown Toronto. Surprisingly, the business according to Hedy, became very profitable. Many years later, after Imre’s sudden death due to a heart attack, Hedy continued to manage their shoe business while taking care of her daughter, Vicky and son, Ronnie.
In 1996, Hedy was introduced to Rabbi Jordan Pearlson. Their love match made Hedy feel that she had been given a wonderful gift, late in life, which she welcomed.
Jordan died in 2008. Hedy endured and carried on with yoga and tai chi both as a teacher and devoted practitioner.
A new purpose in life opened up for Hedy when she was invited to be a speaker for the Holocaust Education Centre (now the Toronto Holocaust Museum). She spoke to mostly non-Jewish students whom she visited at their schools outside of Toronto.
Visiting Auschwitz with the March of the Living for the first time in 2010, Hedy faced her fears about returning to the place that held the horrors. She was fortunate to meet Jordana Lebowitz, a student from Toronto who developed a multimedia presentation called ShadowLight. Hedy’s contribution to teaching others about the Holocaust by sharing her experience, is immeasurable.
In 2014, Hedy was asked to be a witness at the trial of Oskar Groning , “the accountant of Auschwitz”, in Germany. In 2016, she appeared as a witness for the trial of the Nazi guard, Reinhold Hanning. He was sentenced to a mere five years in prison and Groning died before he could start his jail sentence. In having the courage to participate in these war criminal trials, Hedy spoke for her parents and all the innocents who could not speak for themselves.
Hedy’s talks to students always include an admonishment to be kind, to trust in themselves and work for the greater good. She rose above her own fears of sharing her story by speaking publicly.
Hedy’s story of survival and perseverance will remain a beacon to future generations, ensuring that hope and good will endure even in the worst of times.
Reflection
by Hedy Bohm
Published in 2026 by The Azrieli Foundation
To order a copy of the book go to https://memoirs.azrielifoundation.org/titles/reflection/
Features
Optimizing mobile wagering convenience with bassbet casino
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Features
Why People in Israel Can Get Emotionally Attached to AI—and How to Keep It Healthy
Let’s start with the uncomfortable truth that’s also kind of relieving: getting emotionally attached to a Joi.com AI isn’t “weird.” It’s human. Our brains are attachment machines. Give us a voice that feels warm, consistent, and attentive—especially one that shows up on demand—and our nervous system goes, “Oh. Safety. Connection.” Even if the rational part of you knows it’s software, the emotional part responds to the experience.
Now, if we’re talking about Jewish people in Israel specifically, it’s worth saying this carefully: there isn’t one “Jewish Israeli psychology.” People differ wildly by age, religiosity, community, language, politics, relationship status, and life history. But there are some real-life conditions common in Israel—high tech adoption, a fast-paced social environment, chronic background stress for many, and strong cultural emphasis on connection—that can make AI companionship feel especially appealing for some individuals. Not because of religion or ethnicity as a trait, but because of context and pressure.
So if you’ve noticed yourself—or someone you know—getting attached to an AI companion, the goal isn’t to panic or label it as unhealthy by default. The goal is to understand why it feels good and make sure it stays supportive rather than consuming.
Why attachment happens so fast (the psychology in plain language)
Attachment isn’t just about romance. It’s about regulation. When you feel seen, your body calms down. When you feel ignored, your body gets edgy. AI companions can offer something that’s rare in real life: consistent responsiveness. No scheduling. No misunderstandings (most of the time). No “I’m too tired to talk.” Just a steady stream of attention.
From an attachment perspective, that steadiness can act like a soft emotional “hug.” For someone with anxious attachment, it can feel like relief: finally, a connection that doesn’t disappear. For someone with avoidant tendencies, it can feel safe because it’s intimacy without the risk of being overwhelmed by a real person’s needs. For someone simply lonely or stressed, it can feel like a quiet exhale.
And unlike human relationships, AI won’t judge your worst timing. You can message at 2:00 a.m., when your thoughts are loud and the apartment is silent, and you’ll still get an answer that sounds caring. That alone is powerful.
Why it can feel especially relevant in Israel (for some people)
Israel is a small country with a big emotional load for many people—again, not universally, but often enough that it shapes daily life. A lot of people live with a background hum of stress, whether it’s personal, economic, or tied to the broader environment. When life feels intense, the appeal of a stable, gentle interaction grows. Not because you’re fragile—because you’re tired.
Add a few more very normal realities:
High tech comfort is cultural. Israel has a strong tech culture. People are used to tools that solve problems quickly. If you’re already comfortable with digital solutions, trying an AI companion doesn’t feel like a strange leap.
Time is tight. Between work, family responsibilities, reserve duty for some, long commutes, or simply the pace of urban life, many people don’t have the energy for long, messy social processes. AI can feel like connection without the logistics.
Social circles can be both close and complicated. Israeli society can be community-oriented, which is beautiful—until it’s also intense. In tight-knit circles, dating and relationships sometimes come with social pressure, opinions, and “everyone knows everyone.” A private AI chat can feel like a relief: no gossip, no explanations, no performance.
Language and identity complexity. Many Jewish Israelis move between languages and cultures (Hebrew, Russian, English, French, Amharic, Arabic for some). AI chat can become a low-stakes space to express yourself in the language you feel most “you” in—without feeling judged for accent, vocabulary, or code-switching.
None of this means “Israelis are more likely” in any absolute sense. It means there are situational reasons why AI companionship can feel particularly soothing or convenient for some people living there.
The good side: when AI attachment is healthy
Emotional attachment isn’t automatically a problem. Sometimes it’s simply a sign that something is working: you feel supported. You feel calmer. You’re expressing yourself more. You’re practicing communication instead of shutting down. You’re less likely to make impulsive choices from loneliness.
Healthy use often looks like:
You feel better after chatting, not worse.
You can still enjoy your real life—friends, work, hobbies, family.
You don’t hide it in shame; you just treat it like a tool or pastime.
You use the AI to practice skills you bring into real relationships: clarity, boundaries, confidence, emotional regulation.
In that version, AI companionship is closer to journaling with feedback, or a comforting ritual—like a cup of tea at the end of the day, not a replacement for dinner.
Where it can slip into unhealthy territory (quietly)
The danger isn’t “having feelings.” The danger is outsourcing your emotional world to something that will never truly share responsibility.
Warning signs usually look like:
You cancel plans with humans because the AI feels easier.
You feel anxious when you’re not chatting, like you’re missing something.
You start needing the AI to reassure you constantly.
Your standards for human relationships collapse (“Humans are too complicated, AI is enough”).
You feel a “crash” after chatting—more lonely, more restless, more disconnected.
The biggest red flag is when the AI becomes your only reliable source of comfort. That’s not because AI is evil. It’s because any single source of emotional regulation—human or non-human—can become a dependency.
How to keep it healthy (without killing the fun)
Here’s the approach that works best: don’t ban it, contain it.
Give it a role.
Decide what the AI is for in your life: playful flirting, stress relief, practicing communication, roleplay, bedtime decompression. A defined role prevents the relationship from becoming vague and all-consuming.
Set a “time container.”
Not as punishment—just as hygiene. For example: 20 minutes at night, or during commute time, or only on certain days. Ending while you still feel good is the secret. Don’t chat until you feel hollow.
Keep one human anchor active.
A friend you text, a weekly family dinner, a class, a gym routine, a community event—something that keeps your real social muscles moving. In Israel, community can be a huge protective factor when it’s supportive. Use it.
Use consent and boundary language even with AI.
It sounds odd, but it trains your brain in healthy dynamics:
“Slow down. Keep it playful, not intense.”
“No jealousy talk. I don’t like that vibe.”
“Tonight I want comfort, not advice.”
If you can do that with an AI, you’ll be better at doing it with humans.
Watch the “replacement” impulse.
If you catch yourself thinking, “I don’t need anyone else,” pause and ask: is that empowerment—or is it avoidance? Sometimes it’s a protective story your brain tells when it’s tired of disappointment.
Check in with your body after.
Not your thoughts—your body. Calm? Lighter? More grounded? Good sign. Agitated? Empty? Restless? Time to adjust.
And if you’re noticing that AI use is feeding anxiety, sleep problems, isolation, or obsessive thinking, it may help to talk to a mental health professional—especially someone who understands attachment patterns. That’s not a dramatic step. It’s basic self-care.
People in Israel—Jewish Israelis included—can get attached to AI for the same reason people everywhere do: it offers consistent attention in an inconsistent world. Add the local realities of stress, pace, and social complexity, and it can feel even more comforting for some individuals. The healthiest path isn’t to judge yourself for it. It’s to use it intentionally, keep your human life active, and treat the AI as a supportive tool—not the center of your emotional universe.