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I can’t forget what the Nazis did to my family, but I can be grateful to a repentant Germany
(JTA) — Picture a cute-looking, 6 1/2-year-old girl with curly braided hair. She is standing on a sidewalk, on a cold, dreary day in Leipzig, Germany, together with her parents and my wife and me. My granddaughter Vivi is staring intently at a 75-year-old worker, kneeling on the ground. He is digging a hole through the pavers to install several 4” x 4” brass plaques mounted on cement cubes — memorials to relatives who perished at the hands of the Nazis more than 80 years ago.
In February, we traveled 9,500 miles round-trip to dedicate 12 Stolpersteine plaques in memory of relatives I never knew, or even knew I had. (All 16 of my family members would have stood with us that day, but Germany’s airport worker strike canceled the others’ flights.) They were just some of my late father’s aunts, uncles and cousins who were murdered in the Holocaust, and we regarded the ceremony as a pseudo-levaya, a quasi-funeral that would be the final act of respect and farewell Hitler had denied my relatives.
I couldn’t have imagined, 60 years earlier when I first visited Germany, that I would ever return in a spirit approaching forgiveness, or that I’d feel a deep connection to a country that was once synonymous with brutality, pain, humiliation and suffering.
Stolpersteine, a German word meaning “stumbling block,” refers to a design brilliantly conceived by the non-Jewish German artist Gunter Demnig in the early 1990s. Installed in front of the homes where innocent Jewish victims last freely lived, the brass plaques simply and artistically memorialize, honor and personalize those brutally persecuted. On each plaque are engraved the victim’s name, dates of birth and death. As Demnig once said, “A person is only forgotten when his or her name is forgotten.” Hence, 100,000 of his plaques throughout Europe remind us that Jews are part of a shared history, and a common memory.
Whether consciously or not, the “stumbling pedestrian” instantly recalls the extraordinary evil unleashed by ordinary people, on once vibrant Jewish communities, and the terrorized Jewish neighbors who lived within them. This evil was driven by a blind loyalty to a gratuitous hatred of “the other,” meaning non-Aryans.
Who were these relatives I recently memorialized? Recently uncovered documents suggest my relatives were all decent, law-abiding citizens who contributed to Leipzig’s economy, enriched its cultural life and strengthened its social fabric. Sadly, being model citizens did not spare them from torturous fates.
One of those relatives, Elfriede Meyerstein, my paternal grandfather’s sister, was born Feb. 27, 1871 in Breslau. At 20, she came to Leipzig where her husband Menny ran a textile trading company with his family. They lived at the same address for many years. By 1931, after Menny’s death, she lived with her daughter Käthe Huth.
The Nazis, once in power, immediately expropriated Elfriede’s assets, comprising foreign stocks meticulously accumulated by Menny. The Nazi “Ordinance on the Registration of Jewish Assets” of April 26, 1938, forced her to surrender those securities to the state. In 1939, shortly after Kristallnacht on Nov. 9-10, 1938, the Nazis collected a “reimbursement tax” as “atonement,” from Elfriede and the rest of Germany’s Jewish community, for the damage Nazis did that night.
Just prior to her Sept. 19, 1942 deportation to Theresienstadt at age 71, Elfriede was forced to sign a “home purchase agreement,” the Nazis’ final act of expropriation. The document falsely and cynically promised her a “retirement home,” with free lifetime accommodation, food and medical care, but paid for by her, in advance. The Reich Security Main office confiscated 65,000 Reichsmarks ($300,000 in today’s currency). Her “retirement home” was in a ghetto with disastrous hygienic conditions, starvation, and no medical care. Elfriede died one month later.
After considerable soul-searching and three visits to Germany, spaced over 60 years, my attitudes and feelings today, vis a vis Germany and its citizens, are dramatically different from when I first visited in 1966.
Then, I came with unprocessed emotional baggage. In 1939, my father, Ralph Meyerstein, fled Dusseldorf and my mother, Cecily Geyer, fled Dresden, both for England. My paternal grandparents, Alfred and Meta Meyerstein, were deported from Dusseldorf on Nov. 8, 1941, to Minsk, where they were killed. My maternal grandmother, Salcia, was deported to Riga in January 1942; in November 1943 she was sent to Auschwitz and murdered.
My parents met in Ware, a small town north of London, where some German Jews took refuge. They moved to London where they married during the Blitz and we came to the United States in December 1947.
The German-issued ID card of Max Israel Meyerstein, the author’s great-uncle, who was murdered by the Nazis in 1942 at the age of 80. (Courtesy Michael Meyerstein)
As an only child, I shouldered much of my parents’ guilt over abandoning their parents, even though it was their parents who, thankfully, had urged them to flee Germany. When retelling their survival story, my eyes still well up with tears, revealing a lifetime of trauma I’ve absorbed on their behalf. That first visit felt almost adversarial in tone. It was I, representing my parents’ personal losses and those of the Jewish people, versus Germany and Germans. I reacted viscerally to hearing guttural Deutsch being spoken. I eyeballed Germans on the street and asked myself: How old are they? Did they commit heinous crimes against my family and my people?
By 2018, when I dedicated a Stolpersteine in my maternal grandmother’s memory, my judgmental attitudes and harsh feelings had softened. Maybe I realized that 75 years later, the ordinary citizen on the street could not be held responsible for the carnage of the Holocaust. Also, working with non-Jewish German volunteers in planning the ceremony showed me their humanity, sensitivity and outright remorse for Nazism’s impact on my family and their German state. Their kindness was an atonement for a past not of their making.
My visit in February shed further light on my evolving relationship with Germany and Germans. Today’s Germany is doing teshuva, or repentance, by strengthening democracy, creating an inclusionary society, responding resolutely to far-right extremism, educating its young about the Holocaust, offering sanctuary to Jews fleeing Russia and Ukraine and being a true friend to the State of Israel. It also is supporting Jewish communal institutions, paying reparations to Israel, to individual victims and their descendants.
My relationship became much more nuanced upon learning that Germany was once home to five generations of my family, as far back as 1760, in the small town of Grobzig where Matthias Nathan Meyerstein was born. On our visit to its mid-17th-century Jewish cemetery, I gazed incredulously at the graves of Meyersteins. I saw schutzbriefen, documents issued by the reigning duke, that assured my ancestors protection, commercial privileges and religious rights. In the old Leipzig Jewish cemetery, I visited 12 relatives’ graves from the 1800s and 1900s, which reflected much about their secure socio-economic status.
Before my retirement, I never knew that Grobzig or Leipzig or other towns were in my family’s history. This discovery led to one conclusion: Unquestionably, 1933 to 1945 was a tragic anomaly in human history, and especially Jewish history. However, I must also gratefully acknowledge the Germany that sustained my family for over 300 years, and Jewish communal life for 1,700 years.
Nazi Germany’s ill-treatment and intolerance of “the Other” still affects me today as I mourn my relatives’ death. On the other hand, I feel heartened by this sentiment written by a non-Jewish German who funded research about my family: “For me, as I am part of this country and its history, it will be a never-ending task to find ways to deal with this horrible past and most importantly, never to forget,” she wrote.
Navigating this complex relationship with Germany and Germans is intellectually and emotionally messy for Jews. My engagement with “the Other,” however, has been profoundly satisfying.
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Progress Without Power: The Limits of the Lebanon Ceasefire
Smoke rises following explosions in southern Lebanon, near the Israel-Lebanon border, as seen from northern Israel, April 27, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Shir Torem
Last month’s announcement by President Donald Trump of a temporary extension to the Lebanon–Israel ceasefire, amidst ambassador-level Israeli-Lebanese talks in Washington, was greeted, in some quarters, with cautious optimism.
This is understandable.
Lebanon and Israel have been in a technical state of war for decades, with even basic engagement once unthinkable.
What’s more, rhetoric emerging from the Lebanese government of President Joseph Aoun — including unprecedented criticisms of Hezbollah, the heavily armed Iranian terrorist proxy which has dominated Lebanon for decades — provides even more reasons for optimism.
But that optimism collided almost immediately with reality. Soon after the extension was announced, Israeli troops came under attack from a Hezbollah drone strike, leaving six wounded and 19-year-old Sgt. Idan Fooks dead — the third Israeli soldier killed since the ceasefire began in early April.
Israel responded, as it was entitled to under the terms of the ceasefire agreement, with targeted strikes on Hezbollah positions and infrastructure. Retaliatory attacks have since continued.
These events expose the limits of the ceasefire.
The intentions may be honorable, and hopes may be real. But hope is not a strategy. And the situation in Lebanon is such that any positive hopes for an end to the violence cannot be fulfilled while an armed Hezbollah remains a decisive power in Lebanon.
Hezbollah has long operated as a state within a state — exercising power far beyond Lebanon’s elected government. Any agreement struck with Beirut is therefore inherently constrained, because the Lebanese government does not control much of its own territory, and does not currently have the ability to make Hezbollah stop firing at Israel, much less disarm. Indeed, Hezbollah openly says it will not be bound by any deal the Lebanese government makes with Israel.
This reality was laid bare in March, when Lebanon expelled the Iranian ambassador — only for him to simply refuse to leave.
To its credit, for the first time in years, Lebanon has shown signs of recognizing the problem, and trying to actually do something about it. For example, Lebanon has moved to end Hezbollah’s control over Beirut’s airport, taken steps against unauthorized weapons, and President Joseph Aoun has even accused Hezbollah of treason.
Meanwhile, Israeli forces continue to uncover Hezbollah weapons stockpiles — including in children’s rooms and underground bunkers within populated areas in southern Lebanon, which the Lebanese army claimed to have cleared of Hezbollah military bases and activity last year. All of this is in direct violation of the 2006 United Nations Security Council Resolution 1701, which calls for Hezbollah’s disarmament, as well as the ceasefire agreement that ended the Israel-Hezbollah war in 2024, in which Beirut promised to finally fulfill its obligation under 1701.
This is why the current ceasefire does not fully address the real sources of violence and instability, even as too many in the international community continue to confuse ceasefires with peace.
Reports indicate that Hamas is using the ceasefire in Gaza to rebuild capabilities and consolidate control there. Hezbollah has followed a similar pattern. So even if periods of calm emerge, they are unlikely to last long.
There is no question that Iran and its proxies have been weakened by the last two and a half years of war. But ideological regimes do not measure success in conventional terms. They do not concede defeat. And they do not abandon their objectives.
This is why the persistent focus by parts of the international community on ceasefires and “de-escalation” — with the demands directed mainly at Israel — risks overlooking the central challenge.
French President Emmanuel Macron continues to push for de-escalation, urging Israel to withdraw from Lebanese territory and calling for Hezbollah to cease its attacks. He also says Hezbollah must ultimately be disarmed by the Lebanese themselves.
Australian Foreign Minister Penny Wong echoes similar concerns, condemning Hezbollah’s attacks on Israel and calling for an immediate cessation. At the same time, she has condemned in the “strongest terms” Israeli strikes on Lebanon, without fully acknowledging that they have been targeted against Hezbollah infrastructure and operatives. She mentions in passing that Hezbollah should be disarmed.
Yet both leaders failed to address just how Hezbollah can be disarmed — which is the central question. Statements that Hezbollah “should” be disarmed are nothing but empty words.
When dealing with absolutist religious ideologies, diplomacy is not necessarily a strength. It can become a vulnerability — exploited by those who understand that the Western aversion to conflict can itself be weaponized.
The Israel-Lebanon talks are signs of progress. But progress without power is terribly fragile. And as long as Hezbollah remains armed and entrenched, hope is a dangerous strategy.
Justin Amler is a policy analyst at the Australia/Israel & Jewish Affairs Council (AIJAC).
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Israel Must Stop Handing Victories to Its Critics
A general view shows the plenum at the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, in Jerusalem, May 29, 2019. Photo: Reuters / Ronen Zvulun.
Are some of Israel’s own decisions undermining its future?
No one who cares about Israel wants to ask that question. No one who understands Jewish history, regional reality, or the relentless threats Israel faces wants to even entertain it. Yet concern is growing among many who support Israel deeply and sincerely. They are not questioning Israel’s right to exist — but they are questioning if Israel’s actions are harming the Jewish State in the long run.
Let me be clear from the start: Israel has every right to exist. Israel has every right to defend its citizens. Israel has every right to confront terrorism and prevent those who openly seek its destruction from succeeding. In a region where genocidal rhetoric is still common, self defense is not optional. It is essential.
But rights alone do not guarantee wisdom. A nation can be morally justified and strategically misguided at the same time.
Recent events surrounding attempts to breach the Gaza maritime blockade offer a telling example. Many of the activists involved are not neutral humanitarians. Some seek spectacle more than solutions. They understand that confrontation with Israel generates headlines and outrage, and that images travel quickly across the world. Provocation is often the point.
Yet Israel too often responds in ways that hand these provocateurs exactly what they want.
Stopping a vessel at sea may secure an immediate tactical objective. But if the result is another cycle of global accusations, another flood of hostile coverage, and another round of diplomatic damage, then a narrow operational success becomes a strategic failure.
Israel frequently wins the immediate encounter while losing the larger narrative.
That problem extends well beyond maritime incidents.
Many people around the world defend Israel in increasingly hostile environments. Diaspora Jews face intimidation on campuses and in public life. Christian allies speak out despite social pressure. Non-Jewish advocates challenge lies, distortions, and double standards at personal cost. They write, donate, organize, and absorb abuse.
Too many feel taken for granted.
Allies matter. Gratitude matters. Communication matters. Nations under pressure cannot afford to neglect those who stand with them. Support should not be treated as automatic or endless. It must be nurtured.
Another issue that troubles even committed supporters is the use of administrative detention and other extraordinary emergency powers. Israel undeniably faces real security threats. Some dangers cannot be handled through ordinary methods alone. But emergency measures that become routine create a moral and political burden.
When people are held for long periods without normal judicial processes, Israel’s critics seize on every case. More importantly, genuine friends of Israel become uneasy. They ask whether a state founded as a refuge for a persecuted people is drifting from the democratic principles it was meant to embody.
There is also a message for ordinary citizens in Israel — especially those on the far right.
Israel is judged by a harsher standard than most nations. That reality is unfair, often hypocritical, and sometimes openly antisemitic. But it is reality nonetheless. Every act of racist violence, every attack on innocent civilians, every mosque vandalized, every tree burned, every mob chanting hatred, every soldier filmed humiliating noncombatants without cause becomes a global symbol.
One reckless act by one person can damage an entire nation.
Israel does not have the luxury of indiscipline. It is not a quiet country insulated by geography and history. It carries the security of millions of Jews. It carries the memory of exile and extermination. It carries the burden of proving that Jewish sovereignty can be both strong and just.
That requires more than military power. It requires discipline, humility, gratitude, legal integrity, and strategic patience.
Israel’s enemies would love nothing more than to see the Jewish State become isolated, angry, careless, and morally confused. Their greatest victory would not come on the battlefield. It would come if Israel helped destroy its own legitimacy.
The answer, then, is not despair. It is course correction.
Think carefully before reacting. Think strategically before escalating. Think morally before normalizing emergency measures. Think politically before alienating allies.
Israel was built through courage, sacrifice, and vision. It should not be weakened by avoidable mistakes.
The gravest danger to Israel may not come only from those who seek to destroy it from without. It may also come from forgetting how to preserve itself from within.
Sabine Sterk is the CEO of Time To Stand Up For Israel.
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BDS, Pro-Terror, and Anti-Israel Activism Are Still Happening at US Colleges and Universities
A pro-BDS demonstration. Photo: Wikimedia Commons.
Universities remain under pressure from market forces as well as the Trump administration regarding DEI, antisemitism, and funding. Polls also indicate that public trust in higher education continues to decline. The continued closure of smaller institutions such as Hampshire College and the elimination of courses and majors deemed unproductive point to the continuing consolidation of the higher education industrial complex across the US.
Foreign student enrollment has been reduced by US scrutiny of visa applicants, and the administration has proposed steep cuts to US research funding. A new report on academia’s narrowing donor base, where some 2% of donors provided 89% of the $78 billion given in FY 2024-2025, suggests another crisis. Despite these crises, analytical and anecdotal evidence indicate that universities have retained most DEI programs and staff under different labels.
Surprisingly, a report by Yale University faculty attributed plummeting public trust in higher education to institutions themselves, citing rising costs and lowering standards. Harvard president Alan Garber obliquely expanded this critique by noting the combination of student ignorance and arrogance regarding the Arab-Israeli conflict.
Another tacit recognition that protests have damaged both campus safety and public image may be continuing restrictions on student commencement speakers, some of whom particularly in New York City area universities have excoriated Israel and the universities themselves since October 7th.
Amidst these structural changes Jewish students have continued to migrate to southern and southwestern institutions such as Vanderbilt and Clemson which are regarded as safer and more supportive. Active campaigns aimed at Jewish students by other institutions such as American University have touted safety.
Recent studies have suggested that institutions such as Yale and Harvard have deliberately reduced their Jewish populations to post- World War II quota levels as a function of both embracing DEI and globalization. As colleges seek to increase more Arabic and Muslim enrollment, it is undeniably clear that anti-Jewish sentiment has increased on campus. It’s fair to ask questions about whether there is a direct correlation — but critics try to stifle any attempt at an actual conversation or debate with charges of anti-Muslim prejudice.
Finally, reports indicate that the Qatar Foundation has hired two Washington, D.C. public relations firms to provide crisis communications regarding that country’s massive funding to American universities. The move came after a US House committee released emails it had subpoenaed from Northwestern University showing foundation executives consulting university officials regarding PR issues that arose immediately after October 7th.
Faculty misrepresentation of Middle Eastern affairs on campus — and in the press — continues to be a major problem. This was exemplified by an op-ed in The New York Times authored by University of California Berkeley faculty member Ussama Makdisi, in which he attacked Israel over its policy in Lebanon. Makdisi has a long record of troubling anti-Israel hatred. Makdissi’s appointment as the chair of a newly established program in “Palestinian and Arab Studies” at Berkeley institutionalizes and further legitimizes Palestinian grievance and antisemitism.
In a sign of European academic attitudes towards Israel, three Belgian universities conveyed honorary degrees on the deeply antisemitic and relentlessly hostile to Israel United Nations Special Rapporteur for human rights in the Palestinian territories, Francesca Albanese, who remains under US sanctions.
Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) chapters and their allies continue to disrupt pro-Israel events across the country, including at Ohio State, the University of Connecticut, SUNY Buffalo, Florida State, the University of Minnesota, the University of Oregon, Stanford University, Rutgers University, and the University of Washington. SJP protestors also disrupted a trustees meeting at Bryn Mawr College. A pro-Hamas encampment was also created at Occidental College.
BDS resolutions and referendums continue to be considered by student governments. At Ohio University, a divestment referendum approved by the student government in March was overwhelmingly approved by students. Similar resolutions were passed at Colorado State, the University of Wisconsin, and San Diego State University. New divestment campaigns have also been launched at Rutgers University and other schools.
Student groups continue to showcase actual Palestinian terrorists in events. In one recent case the Berkeley SJP featured Israa Jabaris, convicted of attempting a car bombing outside Jerusalem in 2015. She was released from prison in exchange for Israeli hostages held in Gaza. Jabaris thanked students for their “solidarity.”
In another case at the University of Washington, Students United for Palestinian Equality & Return at UW (SUPER UW) co-hosted a fundraiser to support the “Lebanese resistance.” The university banned the group after a building takeover which caused several million dollars in damage. Reports now indicate the group is under investigation by the Civil Rights Division of the US Department of Justice.
Support for those with terror ties was also expressed by the Georgetown SJP chapter, which held a letter writing campaign for “Palestinian prisoners” including those convicted in the Holy Land Foundation case and other “comrades caged by the US empire” including several convicted of arson and assault.
Student governments also remain in the lead in limiting other Jewish and Israeli events. The appearance of former Gaza hostage Omer Shem Tov at UCLA was condemned by the student government as the “selective platforming of narratives that obscure the broader reality of state violence” which shows a “troubling disregard for Palestinian life and contributes to a campus climate in which Palestinian, Arab, and Muslim students are further marginalized, silenced, and harmed.” The university condemned the statement as did trustee Jay Sures who stated he was “disgusted and appalled” by the decision. Conversely, the student government at Stanford awarded the Muslim Student Union $175,000, more than all Christian groups combined or the marching band.
Finally, the role of teachers unions as key drivers of left wing politics inside and outside of classrooms was highlighted by a report that noted that since 2015 unions have contributed more that $1 billion to political activism and advocacy. Causes include “human rights” — which often means anti-Israel activism.
In a convenient illustration of teachers union attitudes towards Israel, New York City delegates of the United Federation of Teachers approved a resolution condemning Israel and demanding a US arms embargo. The measure will be voted on by members in May.
Alex Joffe is the Editor of SPME’s BDS Monitor and director of Strategic Affairs for the Association for the Study of the Middle East and Africa (ASMEA). A completely different version of this article was originally published by SPME.