Teaching Night 0
Teaching Night 0
NIGHT
Created to accompany
the memoir by Elie Wiesel
Teaching
NIGHT
Created to accompany
the memoir by Elie Wiesel
Facing History and Ourselves is an international educational and professional devel-
opment organization whose mission is to engage students of diverse backgrounds in
an examination of racism, prejudice, and antisemitism in order to promote the devel-
opment of a more humane and informed citizenry. By studying the historical devel-
opment of the Holocaust and other examples of genocide, students make the essential
connection between history and the moral choices they confront in their own lives.
For more information about Facing History and Ourselves, please visit our website at
www.facinghistory.org.
Copyright © 2017 by Facing History and Ourselves, Inc. All rights reserved.
Facing History and Ourselves® is a trademark registered in the US Patent & Trademark
Office.
ISBN: 978-1-940457-23-9
CONTENTS
Using This Study Guide 1
Exploring the Central Question 1
Section Elements 2
Supporting the Memoir with Historical Context 2
Helping Students Process Emotionally Powerful Material 3
Section 4 Auschwitz-Birkenau 45
Overview 45
Exploring the Text 45
Connecting to the Central Question 46
Activities for Deeper Understanding 47
Visual Essay: The Auschwitz Album 50
Reading: Auschwitz 56
Reading: A Commandant’s View 58
Reading: Voices from Auschwitz: Charlotte Delbo 60
Night is a terse, terrifying account of the childhood experiences of Elie Wiesel during
the Holocaust. As a testimony of immense suffering from one of the darkest moments
of history, Night requires readers to confront the worst of what humans are able to do
to each other. As a work of literature, Wiesel’s memoir also asks students to explore the
ability and, especially, the limitations of language to convey human experience.
This resource is designed to guide teachers and students through an experience of Night
that engages the mind, heart, and conscience. This approach will develop students’ liter-
acy skills, promote their historical understanding of the Holocaust, and foster empathy,
perspective taking, and other social-emotional skills. Most importantly, the goal of this
guide is to facilitate a reading of Night that helps to sensitize students to inhumanity and
suffering and to encourage them to make choices that help to alleviate, rather than to
perpetuate, those experiences in the world around them.
2 Teaching NIGHT
my circumstances,”1 then these events are the “circumstances” students must grasp in
order to understand Eliezer and his story.
You will find a wide range of primary and secondary sources woven throughout the
sections of this guide, designed to help students develop a nuanced understanding of
this complex and disturbing period of history so that they can place the memoir and
its meaning in a larger, more universal context.
1 José Ortega y Gasset, Obras Completas, Vol. I (Madrid: Taurus/Fundación José Ortega y Gasset, 2004), 757.
4 Teaching NIGHT
Pre-Reading:
1
THE INDIVIDUAL AND SOCIETY
Overview
Although it reads like a novel, Night is a memoir. Wiesel described it as “an autobi-
ographical story, a kind of testimony of one witness speaking of his own life, his own
death.”1 The term memoir comes from a Latin word meaning “to remember,” and in his
book, Elie Wiesel recalls what he saw and experienced during the period from 1941 to
1945. From a deeply personal perspective, he shares how his experiences transformed
his identity and sense of self. This pre-reading section therefore focuses on the rela-
tionship between the individual and society, linking young Eliezer’s evolving identity
with the context of the place where he grew up and, later, with the traumatic events of
the Holocaust that so profoundly shaped his life. It also invites students to consider the
relationship between identity, time, and place in their own lives.
To provide context for what students are about to read, the suggested activities in
this section offer insight into Wiesel’s life before the war and help students to imag-
ine his community in Sighet before it was uprooted and destroyed. This section also
offers resources to help students understand the historical context of Nazism and the
Holocaust, including ideas, people, and events that shaped Wiesel’s experiences but are
only briefly mentioned in his memoir.
1 From Henry James Cargas, Conversation with Elie Wiesel (Justice Books, 1992), 86.
2 José Ortega y Gasset, Obras Completas, Vol. I (Madrid: Taurus/Fundación José Ortega y Gasset, 2004), 757.
6 Teaching NIGHT
reflect on the gravity of what was lost. Students can also view this collection of
photographs at hstry.is/TeachingNight, or you can copy and display them in the
classroom.
Use a simple critical viewing teaching strategy called See, Think, Wonder to help
students engage with the images. As students view each photograph, ask them:
• What do you see? What details stand out? (At this stage, elicit observa-
tions, not interpretations.)
• What do you think is going on in this image? What makes you say that?
• What does this photograph make you wonder? What broader questions
does it raise for you?
If students have explored the reading Elie Wiesel’s Childhood, ask them how they
might connect the photographs in the visual essay with the people and places that
Wiesel has described in words. Ask: How do these images extend your thinking about
Elie Wiesel’s identity? Later, as you begin reading Night, you could return to these
images to ask similar questions.
8 Teaching NIGHT
Concentration camps
Travel by train
Travel by forced march
Borders as of
March 1, 1938
Buchenwald POLAND
Territory under German
occupation, December 1944
GERMANY Gleiwitz
Buna
Auschwitz and Birkenau
C Z E C H O S L O VA K I A
Eliezer’s Forced Journey
AUSTRIA Sighet
(Eliezer’s hometown)
Area of map
HUNGARY
ROMANIA
Friday was our special time. I would stop and see [Grandma Nissel, his paternal
grandmother] on my way home from heder [Jewish school]. “Eliezer, my boy, come,
I’m waiting for you!” she would call out from her window. She would give me fresh
buns from the oven and sit and watch fondly, her hands folded, happy and at peace,
a glimmer in her blue-gray eyes, as I washed and recited the appropriate prayer. . . .
I would look at her as I ate and, fifteen minutes later, I would get up. “I have to go
home and get ready, Grandma. Shabbat will be here any minute now.” But then,
when I was already at the door, she would call me back. “Tell me what you learned
this week.” It was part of our ritual. I should share a Bible story or, later, an insight
of the Midrash (commentary on the Bible text). . . .
[S]tudy became a true adventure for me. My first teacher, the Batizer Rebbe, a
sweet old man with a snow-white beard that devoured his face, pointed to the
twenty-two holy letters of the Hebrew alphabet and said, “Here, children, are the
beginning and the end of all things. Thousands upon thousands of works have been
written and will be written with these letters. Look at them and study them with
love, for they will be your links to life. And to eternity.”
When I read the first word aloud—Bereshit, “in the beginning”—I felt transported
into an enchanted universe. An intense joy gripped me when I came to understand
the first verse. “It was with the twenty-two letters of the aleph-bet (Hebrew alpha-
bet) that God created the world,” said the teacher, who on reflection was probably
not so old. “Take care of them and they will take care of you. They will go with you
everywhere. They will make you laugh and cry. Or rather, they will cry when you
cry and laugh when you laugh, and if you are worthy of it, they will allow you into
hidden sanctuaries where all becomes . . . ” All becomes what? Dust? Truth? Life? It
was a sentence he never finished.
There was something terrifying and fascinating about reading ancient texts,
something that filled me with awe. Without moving I could ramble through worlds
visible and invisible. I was in two places at once, a thousand places at once. I was
with Adam at the beginning barely awakened to a world streaming with light; with
Moses in Sinai under a flaming sky.1
1 Elie Wiesel, All Rivers Run to the Sea: Memoirs (New York: Alfred P. Knopf, 1994), 4, 6, 10–11.
10 Teaching NIGHT
Connection Questions
1. What in Elie Wiesel’s life sounds familiar or unfamiliar to you? What questions
do you have? When you remember your childhood, what things come to mind
about your traditions? How are they similar to or different from what Wiesel
remembers?
2. Based on the reading, what do we know about Wiesel’s/Eliezer’s identity—
his family, his religion, his culture, his values, and more?
3. What quotations are most revealing about who he is?
Teaching NIGHT
Pre-War Sighet
16 Teaching NIGHT
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, courtesy of Morris Spitzer
Sighet Soccer Club
Members of Sighet’s Samson Soccer Club, ca. 1930.
Overview
Night begins in 1941 in Sighet, Hungary. Author Elie Wiesel tells the story from the
point of view of his younger self, called Eliezer, who is almost 13 years old when the
book begins. Eliezer introduces readers to his family, his community, and to a daily
life dominated by religious faith, study, and ritual observance. Young Eliezer is desper-
ate to study Kabbalah, a type of Jewish mysticism, and becomes close to Moishe the
Beadle, an impoverished man who tutors him in this spiritual practice.
Soon, all foreign Jews are expelled from Sighet, including Moishe. He and the others
are shipped to German-occupied Poland, where the Nazis force them to dig their own
graves before slaughtering them. Moishe miraculously escapes, and in 1942 he returns
to Sighet to alert his friends to the danger, but no one believes him. Throughout 1943,
life in Sighet goes on as usual, and Moishe grows more silent and withdrawn. By the
spring of 1944, the townspeople are hopeful that the war will soon be over. They hear
on the radio that Russian troops are advancing farther and farther west. But within
days of those broadcasts, German soldiers appear on the streets of Sighet.
We encourage teachers to provide ample time for discussion after reading this section,
and to use some of the strategies for processing emotionally powerful material de-
scribed on page 3.
22 Teaching NIGHT
2. Activate Historical Knowledge
In the previous section, students began building knowledge of the historical context
of Elie Wiesel’s memoir. As Eliezer tells us of life in Sighet in 1941–1944, readers with
knowledge of history are aware of what he and his family do not know or choose not
to believe: the majority of Jews in German-occupied lands have already been mur-
dered, and the Jews of Hungary are next.
As you read this section of the memoir with students, the following activities can help
to activate their historical knowledge:
a. Build understanding of Hungary’s history with text-to-text connections: This
section of Night includes many references to Hungarian history. To help students
understand this national context, distribute the reading The Holocaust in Hungary
and make “text-to-text” connections between this historical reading and Wiesel’s
memoir. How does the historical text connect to Night, extend students’ thinking
about the memoir, and challenge or complicate students’ understanding?
b. Make an iceberg diagram: The Iceberg Diagram teaching strategy helps students
gain awareness of the multiple causes that give rise to a specific event, like the
expulsion of foreign Jews from Sighet, that may seem to happen quite abruptly but
is in fact the result of complex forces and longstanding processes. Distribute copies
of the Iceberg Diagram handout. Then ask students to brainstorm what gave rise to
the expulsion and massacre of Sighet’s foreign Jews. Their answers might include
Hungarian antisemitism, the rise of the Nazis in Germany, Nazi ideology, German
expansionism, and the events of World War II, drawing on students’ prior knowl-
edge and on the pre-reading work you did as a class. They should write these causes
beneath the surface of the water on the diagram. (You may also want to create
iceberg diagrams at other points in the memoir—for example, when Eliezer and his
family are deported to Auschwitz.)
c. Reflect on dramatic irony: Dramatic irony exists when readers are aware of events or
circumstances in a story of which the characters have no knowledge. Ask students to
identify one or more moments of dramatic irony in the opening pages of Night. What
do we as readers know in that moment that characters in the memoir do not? What
does the author know that he as a younger person did not, and how does that show in
the telling of the story? What effect does this gap between our knowledge and that of
the characters have on you as a reader? How does it make you feel?
(memoir begins)
Word: Devout
Date: 1941
24 Teaching NIGHT
The Holocaust in Hungary
R E ADI NG
Much of Night takes place within a single year, 1944–1945. It was the final year of what
later became known as the Holocaust. Between 1939 and 1945, Adolf Hitler and his
followers murdered about one-third of all the Jews in the world (and millions of other
civilians), in the midst of the most destructive war in human history. Young and old
alike were killed solely because of their ancestry.
The Jewish community in Hungary was large and diverse. Jews had lived in the area
for more than a thousand years, and after the Jewish population was granted legal and
economic freedoms in the late 1800s, their numbers grew. In the capital, Budapest,
where Jews made up more than 20 percent of the residents, they were often profes-
sionals who played influential roles in the cultural and intellectual life of the city.
Elsewhere in Hungary, Jewish people lived more traditional, rural, and often impover-
ished lives.
When the Austro-Hungarian Empire collapsed after World War I, Hungary entered
a period of unrest. Like Russia, which was transformed by a communist revolution,
Hungary had a brief experiment with communism. This experiment came to an end
with a counter-revolution called the White Terror. During this period, Jews, who were
often stereotypically and inaccurately associated with communism, faced renewed
antisemitism. Hungary’s conservative leader, Regent Miklós Horthy, defeated the com-
munists, restored order, and enacted laws that restricted the legal and economic rights
of Jews. As historian Paul Shapiro points out, “Antisemitism in Hungary did not arrive
from abroad.”1
In the late 1930s, Hungary made an alliance with Nazi Germany. Germany offered
the largest market for Hungary’s agricultural produce, and, most importantly, Nazi
Germany’s expansionist goals aligned with Hungary’s own ambition to reclaim ter-
ritories it had lost in World War I. During most of the war, Hungarian Jews suffered
discrimination and harassment, but they were largely protected from the Nazis’ killing
machine. (Hungary’s foreign-born Jews were an exception. As Elie Wiesel recounts in
Night through the story of Moishe the Beadle, in 1941 foreign Jews were rounded up,
deported, and used as slave laborers or murdered.) Regent Horthy, despite pressure
from right-wing parties and Hitler, refused to deport Hungarian-born Jews to Nazi
death camps. Still, even before the German occupation, as many as 60,000 Jews died
in antisemitic massacres or as slave workers in the military, fighting alongside the
German army even as Germany faced increasing defeats at the hands of Soviet forces.
In 1943, Hitler sensed correctly that the Hungarian government was searching for a
way out of the alliance. In fact, by the spring of 1944, Hungarian officials were in secret
negotiations with Allied forces for a possible armistice. In response, Germany occupied
Hungary, though Horthy was allowed to remain as regent. Hungary, which had lost its
army earlier in the war, could offer only minimal resistance.
1 “The Testimony of Paul A. Shapiro, U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum,” March 19, 2013, Hungarian Spectrum website,
http://hungarianspectrum.org/2013/03/20/the-testimony-of-paul-a-shapiro-u-s-holocaust-memorial-museum/.
Threatened with war crimes by Allied leaders, Regent Horthy ordered the deportations,
which were being carried out by Hungarian forces, to cease. He sought an armistice with
the Soviet Union, whose troops were close to Hungary. In response, the Germans helped
to oust Horthy in a coup. A new government, led by the Hungarian fascist Arrow Cross
Party (known as Nyilas), took over.
Shapiro continues,
The weeks that followed saw a combination of forced ghettoization in Budapest; death
marches involving men, women and children, whose slightest misstep was rewarded
with a bullwhip or a bullet; and renewed deportations to Auschwitz. Nyilas gangs
engaged in wild shooting orgies in Budapest. They massacred the patients, doctors
and nurses at the Maros Street Jewish Hospital, to give just one example, and consid-
ered it sport to shoot Jews seized at random into the Danube from the riverbank. Three
months of Nyilas government cost the lives of an additional 85,000 Hungarian Jews.
2 Ibid.
3 Ibid.
26 Teaching NIGHT
Iceberg Diagram
HANDOUT
When people say that something is the “tip of the iceberg,” they mean that it is a small,
visible part of a much larger and more complex issue, just as the part of an iceberg that
is visible above water is much smaller than what lies beneath.
This iceberg represents the expulsion and massacre of Sighet’s foreign Jews, which
occurs early in Night. What are some of the forces that led to this event? Draw on your
prior knowledge and the historical context you studied to name some of the events,
beliefs, and decisions that led to the death of Sighet’s foreign Jews. Write them in the
underwater part of the iceberg.
The expulsion and massacre
of Sighet’s foreign Jews
The two men also insisted that Karski should see for himself what was happening to
Jews, because his own eyewitness account would make his report more convincing.
As a result, before Karski traveled to London and the United States, he was smuggled
into and out of the Warsaw ghetto and the Izbica transit camp. But even his firsthand
accounts of what he witnessed there were not able to persuade many of the officials he
later met:
It is not true, as sometimes has been written, that I was the first one to present
to the West the whole truth of the fate of the Jews in occupied Poland. There were
others. . . . The tragedy was that these testimonies were not believed. Not because
of ill will, but simply because the facts were beyond the human imagination.
I experienced this myself. When I was in the United States and told [Supreme Court]
Justice Felix Frankfurter the story of the Polish Jews, he said, at the end of our con-
versation, “I cannot believe you.” We were with the Polish ambassador to the U.S.,
Jan Ciechanowski. Hearing the justice’s comments, he was indignant. “Lieutenant
Karski is on an official mission. My government’s authority stands behind him. You
cannot say to his face that he is lying.” Frankfurter’s answer was, “I am not saying
that he is lying. I only said that I cannot believe him, and there is a difference.”2
Among those who dismissed the reports of German atrocities as war propaganda was
W. A. Visser ’t Hooft, a Dutch theologian and the first secretary of the World Council
of Churches. He changed his mind only after hearing an eyewitness account.
From that moment onward I had no longer any excuse for shutting my mind to in-
formation which could find no place in my view of the world and humanity. And this
meant I had to do something about it.
1 Quoted in Maciej Kozlowski, “The Mission that Failed: A Polish Courier Who Tried to Help the Jews,” in My Brother’s Keeper:
Recent Polish Debates on the Holocaust, ed. Antony Polonsky (London: Routledge, 1990), 83.
2 Quoted in ibid., 87–88.
28 Teaching NIGHT
A considerable number of people in Germany, in occupied countries, in the allied
and neutral countries heard stories about mass killings. But the information was
ineffective because it seemed too improbable.3
Visser ’t Hooft believed that “people could find no place in their consciousness for
such an unimaginable horror and that they did not have the imagination, together
with the courage, to face it. It is possible to live in a twilight between knowing and not
knowing. It is possible to refuse full realization of facts because one feels unable to face
the implications of these facts.”
3 W. A. Visser’t Hooft, Memoirs, 2nd ed. (London: World Council of Churches, 1987), 166.
Overview
This section of the memoir describes the immediate physical and emotional impact of
the German occupation on Elie Wiesel’s life. Events unfold at a rapid pace. German of-
ficers and Hungarian police force the Jews of Sighet into two ghettos, where they soon
learn of their impending deportation. Caught between hope and terror, Eliezer and
his family frantically prepare for their journey. A few of their Hungarian neighbors
attempt to help them, while most turn their backs.
Despite efforts by Eliezer’s father, a pillar of the local Jewish community, the entire
Jewish population of Sighet is eventually marched to the railroad station and deported
in overcrowded cattle trains, headed to an unknown destination. On the journey from
Sighet, Mrs. Schächter, a neighbor of the Wiesels’, insists that she sees a fire. No one
else can see the fire, and the other people in the cattle car are first disturbed, then out-
raged, by Mrs. Schächter’s screams. When the train finally pulls into a station, the first
thing Eliezer sees is flames rising from a tall chimney. They have arrived at the death
camp of Auschwitz-Birkenau.
32 Teaching NIGHT
The choice to participate in persecution, to help victims, or to stand by is often shaped
by an individual’s “universe of obligation”—the term sociologist Helen Fein coined to
describe the circle of individuals and groups within a society “toward whom obliga-
tions are owed, to whom rules apply, and whose injuries call for amends.”1 Those with-
in a society’s universe of obligation can expect respect and protection; those outside
it become vulnerable, not only to being deprived of rights, privileges, and economic
benefits but also to expulsion, physical harm, and, in the most extreme cases, genocide.
Like societies, individuals have their own universes of obligation. This activity allows
students to explore this concept.
Distribute the reading Universe of Obligation. Discuss the connection questions that
follow the reading, and then give each student a copy of the Universe of Obligation
handout. Give students time to complete the activity sheet.
In groups of two or three, have students discuss the experience and process of thinking
through and illustrating their universes of obligation. In their discussions, they should
address the following questions:
• What was the experience of defining your universe of obligation like?
• What did you think about when deciding where to place certain groups in your
universe of obligation? Which decisions were difficult? Which were easy?
• Under what conditions might your universe of responsibility shift? How might it
shift in times of terror?
• What do you think is the difference between an individual’s universe of obliga-
tion and that of a school, community, or country?
As an extension, students can use the Universe of Obligation handout to create uni-
verses of obligation for different individuals and groups in Night using evidence from
the text, as described in the next activity.
1 Helen Fein, Accounting for Genocide (New York: Free Press, 1979), 4.
34 Teaching NIGHT
Traub’s video testimony about her family’s experience of being confined and de-
ported from Sighet.
d. Finally, ask students to revise their working definitions for the different roles based
on the sources and the class discussion. How did this activity change or compli-
cate their thinking about the range of human behavior and the roles people play?
Students can return to their working definitions and use them to analyze the ac-
tions of other characters as the memoir unfolds.
2 Elie Wiesel, All Rivers Run to the Sea: Memoirs (New York: Knopf, 1995), 321.
36 Teaching NIGHT
Universe of Obligation
R E ADI NG
What does it mean to be a member of a group? In groups we meet our most basic
needs; in groups we learn a language and a culture or way of life. In groups we also sat-
isfy our yearning to belong, receive comfort in times of trouble, and find companions
who share our dreams, values, and beliefs. Groups also provide security and protection
from those who might wish to do us harm. Therefore, how a group defines its mem-
bership matters. Belonging can have significant advantages; being excluded can leave a
person vulnerable.
How the members of a group, a nation, or a community define who belongs and who
does not has a lot to do with how they define their universe of obligation. Sociologist
Helen Fein coined this phrase to describe the group of individuals within a society
“toward whom obligations are owed, to whom rules apply, and whose injuries call
for amends.”1 In other words, a society’s universe of obligation includes those people
who that society believes deserve respect and whose rights it believes are worthy of
protection.
A society’s universe of obligation can change. Individuals and groups that are respect-
ed and protected members of a society at one time may find themselves outside of
the universe of obligation when circumstances are different—such as during a war or
economic depression. Beliefs and attitudes that are widely shared among members
of a society may also affect the way that society defines its universe of obligation. For
instance, throughout history, beliefs and attitudes about religion, gender, and race have
helped to determine which people a society protects and which people it does not.
Although Fein uses the term to describe the way nations determine membership, we
might also refer to an individual’s universe of obligation to describe the circle of other
individuals that person feels a responsibility to care for and protect. Rabbi Jonathan
Sacks describes how individuals often define those for whom they feel responsible:
[Eighteenth-century philosopher] David Hume noted that our sense of empathy
diminishes as we move outward from the members of our family to our neighbors,
our society, and the world. Traditionally, our sense of involvement with the fate of
others has been in inverse proportion to the distance separating us and them.2
Scholar and social activist Chuck Collins defines his universe of obligation differently
from the example Sacks offers. In the 1980s, Collins gave the half-million dollars that
he inherited from his family to charity. Collins told journalist Ian Parker:
Of course, we have to respond to our immediate family, but, once they’re O.K., we
need to expand the circle. A larger sense of family is a radical idea, but we get into
trouble as a society when we don’t see that we’re in the same boat.3
1. What factors influence the way a society defines its universe of obligation? In what
ways might a nation or community signal who is part of its universe of obligation
and who is not?
2. What do you think might be some of the consequences for those who are not with-
in a society’s universe of obligation?
3. What factors influence how an individual defines his or her universe of obligation?
In what ways might an individual show others who is part of his or her universe of
obligation and who is not?
4. In the 1800s, sociologist William Graham Sumner wrote, “Every man and wom-
an in society has one big duty. That is, to take care of his or her own self.” Do you
agree with Sumner? Why or why not? Is it wrong to prioritize caring for those
closest to you over others? How does Sumner’s suggestion about how we define our
universe of obligation differ from Chuck Collins’s view?
5. How would you describe your nation’s universe of obligation? Your school’s?
Your own?
38 Teaching NIGHT
Universe of Obligation
HANDOUT
In Circle 1, write your name.
In Circle 2, write the name of people to whom you feel the greatest obligation. For
whom would you be willing to take a great risk or put yourself in peril? (You don’t
have to write actual names.)
In Circle 3, write the names of people who are on the next level—that is, people to
whom you have some obligation, but not as great as for those in Circle 2.
In Circle 4, write the names of people who are on the next level—that is, people to
whom you have some obligation, but not as great as for those in Circle 3.
Many Hungarians hoped to benefit from the deportations by taking over Jewish
property left behind, including businesses and apartments. In the capital of Budapest,
where housing was in short supply, residents were so eager to claim the apartments of
deported Jews that they overwhelmed the housing department charged with redistrib-
uting the apartments. In the summer of 1944, a local newspaper reported,
The housing department of the capital [Budapest] has been overrun by such
massive crowds of people that highly undesirable mob scenes have developed . . .
City leaders have on several occasions asked the public not to rush to the housing
bureau, for the assignment of apartments is suspended until further notice . . . The
inventory of abandoned Jewish apartments is under way, and satisfactory steps will
be taken within a short time to address those claiming apartments.2
Not all Hungarians sought to benefit from the deportations. Throughout 1944,
journalist and author Sándor Márai kept a diary where he recorded the events he saw
unfolding around him. Márai was a Christian intellectual who opposed the treatment
of Hungary’s Jews; he was also married to a woman of Jewish ancestry whose elderly
father was deported to a camp in Poland. In May of 1944, the same month that Elie
Wiesel and his family were deported to Auschwitz, Márai wrote,
Nothing helps: everything must be experienced in person, on our own bodies. That
is how we will understand it in reality. All that we have heard about the fate of Pol-
ish, Austrian, German Jews over the years was just a hazy image. But when I first
saw a man being taken away to a truck by two Gestapo soldiers—on Vörösmarty
1 Zoltán Vági, László Csösz, and Gábor Kádár, The Holocaust in Hungary: Evolution of a Genocide, Documenting Life and
Destruction: Holocaust Sources in Context series, United States Holocaust Memorial Museum Center for Advanced Holocaust
Studies (Lanham: Alta Mira Press, 2013), 279.
2 Quoted in ibid., 287–88.
40 Teaching NIGHT
Square in Budapest—I understood reality. And now that men, women, children
bearing yellow stars are marching along in front of my window, carrying their mea-
ger packages, to live crammed together, five thousand of them, tens of thousands
of them, headed to some uncertain fate—I am afraid it is not really uncertain! . . .
[N]ow I finally understand. All this has to be seen, in person . . .
Which word? Page Copy down a few lines How might Wiesel be
number that surround the word. using this word as a symbol
at this moment?
Example: Night 18 “Where were the people being They want answers but the
taken? Did anyone know yet? No, night came, and it felt like
the secret was well kept. doors and answers were
closed to them.
Night had fallen.”
Connection Questions
42 Teaching NIGHT
Found Poem: Mrs. Schächter’s Vision
HANDOUT
Create a found poem using only words, phrases, and quotations that have been
selected and rearranged the scene in Night involving Mrs. Schächter’s outburst in the
cattle car. To create your poem, choose language that is particularly meaningful or
interesting to you and organize that language around a theme or message.
1. Read the scene (from “There was a woman among us . . . ” on page 24 to “ . . . We
had arrived in Birkenau” on page 28) two or three times. Read it out loud at least
once.
2. While reading the scene one additional time, copy down 15 to 20 words and short
phrases from it that you find memorable, powerful, or revealing.
3. Arrange the words and phrases you have selected into a poem. You might want to
copy the words and phrases onto notecards or separate slips of paper so that you
can easily rearrange them. Try to arrange the words in a way that captures what you
think is the essence of the scene, as well as your experience of hearing it.
4. Here are a few more guidelines for creating your poem:
• You DON’T have to use all of the words and phrases you chose.
• You CAN repeat words or phrases.
• You CAN’T add other words besides those you copied from the excerpt.
• Your poem DOESN’T have to rhyme.
5. When you are satisfied with your poem, give it a title.
Overview
This section of the memoir begins as the terrible train journey from Sighet is ending.
Eliezer, his family, and the Jews of Sighet have arrived at Birkenau, a reception center
for the vast concentration camp and killing center of Auschwitz. When the transport
arrives at the station, the first thing people notice is fire. Flames are gushing out of
huge chimneys against a black sky. An SS officer orders “Men to the left! Women to
the right!” and Eliezer and his father are immediately separated from his mother and
sisters. Eliezer describes horrific scenes of murder and death, but he and his father
survive the selection process. As they are marched away, the “veteran” prisoners are
amazed and angry to discover that the newcomers have never heard of Auschwitz.
Almost immediately, an initiation begins. Eliezer and his father are stripped of their
belongings, their hair, even their names. They are pushed from place to place, beat-
en, and humiliated without explanation. Eventually they are taken from Birkenau to
Auschwitz, where an officer tells them that they must work or go to the crematori- Locate Auschwitz-
um. A Polish prisoner quietly advises them to “help one another. It is the only way to Birkenau on the map
survive.” Three weeks later, they are moved yet again, this time to another part of the “Eliezer’s Forced
Journey.”
Auschwitz complex—a slave labor camp called Buna.
The events in this section of the memoir pose deep challenges for readers, who must
struggle to imagine and confront a world that defies description. We encourage teach-
ers to provide ample time for discussion and to use some of the strategies for process-
ing emotionally powerful material described on page 3.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 45
3. How do the veteran inmates and others imprisoned in the camp treat the new
arrivals? How do you account for their attitudes and actions?
4. How do the Germans orchestrate the arrival of new prisoners at Auschwitz?
What are some of the key stages of this process? What is its purpose?
5. What questions do Eliezer and the other inmates ask of each other and them-
selves as they enter the camp? What lies or fictions do they tell themselves and
others, and how does this influence their survival?
6. Why do you think the Germans take away the inmates’ personal belongings?
Their clothing? Why do they cut off their hair and tattoo a number on each
person’s arm? What effect does this process have on Eliezer? How do you think it
affects the German guards?
7. How does Eliezer respond when his father is beaten for the first time? How does
that response affect the way he sees himself? How might his universe of obliga-
tion be changing, and why?
8. In what ways has the environment at Auschwitz made Eliezer see himself and
Record an event on
the world differently? What are some key words and phrases that reflect how his
your identity timeline.
identity is changing? Add these quotations and ideas to your identity timeline
for Eliezer.
9. Where in this section of the text do you see evidence of humanity in Auschwitz,
despite the Nazi policies and practices of dehumanization?
10. Recounting the first night in the concentration camp, Wiesel writes, “Never
shall I forget that night, the first night in the camp, that has turned my life into
one long night . . . ” (page 34). What does it mean for a life to be turned into
“one long night”? What other references to “night” have you found in this
section of the memoir? Add them to your Night and Day graphic organizer on
page 42 and reflect on their meaning.
46 Teaching NIGHT
Activities for Deeper Understanding
1. Explore Arrival at Auschwitz through Images
This section of Night describes the arrival of Eliezer and the Jews of Sighet at
Auschwitz. Wiesel tells a singular and deeply personal story, but this experience of
arrival was shared by hundreds of thousands of Jews and other prisoners deported
to Auschwitz. The Auschwitz Album visual essay includes selections from a famous
collection of photographs of a transport arriving from Hungary in early summer 1944.
The album was discovered by then-18-year-old Lilly Jacob in a vacant SS barracks on
the day of her liberation in the Dora concentration camp, hundreds of miles from
Auschwitz. Within its pages, she was shocked to find pictures of herself, her family, and
her friends on the day of their arrival at Auschwitz.
Introduce the album to students and explain that you’ll be making connections be-
tween the photographs and the events they’ve just read about in Night using the Crop
It teaching strategy.
a. Before class, cut out pairs of L-shaped “cropping tools” to use for this activity. In
class, give each student a pair of cropping tools and show them how to use them to
focus on a particular detail of a photograph or other image; the tools can be adjust-
ed to crop large sections of an image or to focus on a tiny detail.
b. Now provide copies of the Auschwitz Album visual essay. Explain the origin of the
Auschwitz Album and give students time to look at all of the images. Then ask
them to choose one photograph for this activity. Offer a series of prompts, one at
a time, giving students a few moments on their own to crop a detail of the photo-
graph in response. Silence and slow, deliberate pacing will help students to engage
deeply with the image in front of them.
• Crop to show the part of the image that first caught your eye.
• Crop to show something you have a question about.
• Crop to show a detail that reveals when and where this image was taken.
• Crop to show a detail that connects to Eliezer’s story in Night.
• Crop to show the most important part of the image.
c. After students work on their own, give them time to journal about some of the de-
tails they selected, and then invite them to discuss with a partner why they cropped
those particular details.
d. As a class, discuss how the images connect to Night, using the Connect, Extend,
Challenge teaching strategy. What details did students see in the images that also
appear in the memoir? How did the memoir help them to interpret the images?
How do the images deepen their understanding of the memoir? What do they feel,
see, or understand that they did not before? Invite students to select one quotation
from the memoir to use as a caption for their photograph.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 47
2. Examine the “Moral Universe” of Auschwitz
The setting of this section of Night is the vast concentration camp and killing center
of Auschwitz-Birkenau in the spring of 1944, when thousands of people were arriving
daily and the SS gassed more than 6,000 Jews each day. To grasp this setting, readers
need to do more than simply establish the time and place. They also need to probe the
“moral universe” of the camp.
In any work of literature, the “moral universe” refers to the “rules, constraints, possibil-
ities, potential conflicts and potential consequences”1 that affect the choices the char-
acters make. The “moral universe” includes power hierarchies and systems of values,
norms, and expectations. Understanding the moral universe of a place like Auschwitz-
Birkenau, or the settings of other works of Holocaust literature, presents a particular
challenge because the shocking violence and cruelty of these places defies our norms
of human behavior and eludes our attempts to explain or understand it. Even those
who were there struggle to describe what it was like. As Elie Wiesel himself said, “Only
those who were there will ever know, and those who were there can never tell.”2
Despite these challenges, a focus on the moral universe of Night provides the essential
context for understanding the pressures on Eliezer’s identity, the conflicts he faces, and
the limited choices he is able to make. To help students understand the distorted moral
universe of Auschwitz, they can review a range of sources that reflect the experiences
and points of view of victims, survivors, and perpetrators; each offers a distinct insight
into the moral universe and the choices individuals made there. You can use some
or all of these sources, depending on the time you have available, your goals, and the
needs of your students.
Moral Universe
hierarchies
values taboos
beliefs expectations
norms obligations
constraints rules
a. Introduce the idea of a “moral universe” to your students. You might ask them to
first journal about the moral universe of the community they live in. How would
they describe the norms, values, hierarchies, and expectations that shape their ev-
eryday world?
b. Ask students to draw on their reading of Night, the Auschwitz Album visual es-
say, and the readings Auschwitz and A Commandant’s View to describe the moral
universe of Auschwitz. What specific details or quotations from the different images
and texts illuminate the moral universe of the camp? Gather students’ ideas into a
1 Michael W. Smith and Jeffrey D. Wilhelm, Fresh Takes on Teaching Literary Elements (New York: Scholastic, 2010), 25.
2 Quoted in Walter Laqueur and Judith Tydor Baumel, eds., The Holocaust Encyclopedia (New Haven: Yale University Press,
2001), 208.
48 Teaching NIGHT
web on a large sheet of paper that you can save and refer to as you continue to read
the memoir. Then discuss the following:
• What events, ideas, or themes were consistent across all of the sources?
• What does each type of source contribute to your understanding? Which type of
source is most impactful for you, and why?
• How does thinking about the moral universe of Auschwitz help you to reflect on
the central question for our study of Night?
Q: How is our identity shaped and reshaped by the circumstances we
encounter? How do tragedy and trauma influence an individual’s
identity and choices?
3 Sonia Schreiber Weitz, I Promised I Would Tell (Brookline, MA: Facing History and Ourselves, Inc., 2012), x.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 49
V IS UAL ES S AY
The Auschwitz Album
Yad Vashem
“The Ramp”
Women and children arrive on the “ramp” at Birkenau, where they would be moved along toward the gates.
There, physicians decided whether they were fit for slave labor or death.
50 Teaching NIGHT
Yad Vashem
Arrival at Birkenau
Mass scene of Jews arriving after an arduous journey. Here they would face the selection process, which
ended for many in the crematorium that can be seen in the background.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 51
Yad Vashem
Selection Process
The start of the selection process, in front of the camp’s entrance. Some prisoners who had al-
ready been at the camp for a time were made to assist in sorting the new arrivals.
52 Teaching NIGHT
Yad Vashem
Crematoria IV and V
A group of women and children going toward Crematoria IV and V. There they would be killed, as they
were considered to be too weak to do hard labor.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 53
Yad Vashem
Confiscation of Prisoners’ Belongings
A trailer full of the clothes and luggage of new prisoners passes a group of women, who are presumably
heading toward the gas chamber.
54 Teaching NIGHT
Yad Vashem
Selected for Slave Labor
These men were determined fit to perform hard labor. Their heads were shaved and their
clothes replaced with prison uniforms.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 55
R E ADI NG
Auschwitz
In 1940, the Nazis built a camp called Auschwitz, located about 37 miles west of
Kraków, Poland, to imprison Soviet prisoners of war and Polish resisters. In October
1941, the Nazis built a second camp there, known as Auschwitz II, or Auschwitz-
Birkenau. With four large crematoria (including gas chambers and ovens to cremate
victims’ bodies), Auschwitz-Birkenau became the largest of the killing centers built
by the Nazis. Jews from all over Europe were sent to Auschwitz to be murdered. Some
have said that the system of killing there resembled an industrial production line—but
at Auschwitz, the goal of the process was not the production of goods but the deaths of
millions of people.
The process began when Jews were ordered out of the trains that brought them to the
death camp and made to stand in line for the “selection,” in which a Nazi doctor or
other official would quickly decide which prisoners could serve as slave laborers and
which would be killed right away. Small children and women with children were not
considered for labor but automatically selected to be killed. Those not selected for
labor were told that they would first undress and go into a special room for a shower
and disinfection, after which they would be given food and new clothing. In reality, the
shower rooms were gas chambers.
Some Jews were deliberately kept alive to assist with the killing process. Formed
into Sonderkommandos, or special detachments, they were the ones who told the new
arrivals to undress and then led them to the “shower room.” The Sonderkommandos
were under strict orders to say nothing to the victims about what really awaited them.
After the poison gas was released into the chambers and everyone inside was dead,
the Sonderkommandos removed the bodies and transported them to specially built
crematoria to be burned. Every few months, the Sonderkommandos were themselves
murdered and replaced by a new group of prisoners.
A former Sonderkommando member described the killing process this way, beginning
with the undressing hall:
The people walked into the room and once they were all inside they began to
undress. . . . From the undressing room the people went down a narrow corridor
to the gas chamber. At the entrance, there was a sign: “To the Disinfection Room.”
. . . [T]he men waited naked until the women were in the gas chamber, and then
they went in. . . . When a large transport with lots of people came, the people were
beaten to force them to enter the room. . . . Only when they were already in the gas
chamber did they sense that something was out of whack. When the gas cham-
ber filled up, the Germans stood at the door with dogs and continued to pack the
people in so that more than were already inside could be gassed. Those who hadn’t
gone in yet began to shout. The Germans responded with murderous beatings. The
people were already naked and defenseless, so they were pushed in by force. . . .
The moment the gas chamber filled up the SS man closed the door. Right after that,
SS men drove over in a car that carried the emblem of the Red Cross. The cans of
gas were taken out of the car, opened, and their contents were thrown into the gas
chambers through the opening of the wall. . . . Some time later, the SS doctor
56 Teaching NIGHT
determined the death of the people in the chamber by saying “It’s all over.” Then he
drove away in the “Red Cross” car.1
As historians and survivors have struggled to describe and understand the nature
of death camps like Auschwitz, they have also emphasized the near impossibility of
conveying what it was like to people who were not there. Historian Gideon Greif, who
edited a book of Sonderkommando accounts, writes:
Many former prisoners explained in their testimonies that everyday life in the
Nazi camps was based on a total reversal of all moral standards. Power was
associated solely with the license to oppress and torture. Values such as mercy and
compassion were regarded as extreme, negative and perverse. . . . It gave rise to an
upside-down world or, as the writer and Auschwitz survivor K. Tzetnik put it, “another
planet,” a place that functioned on different, unknown principles. . . . Auschwitz
constituted a reality that had never before existed and had never been known, let
alone experienced.2
1 Gideon Greif, We Wept Without Tears: Testimonies of the Jewish Sonderkommando from Auschwitz (New Haven: Yale University
Press, 2005), 153–55.
2 Ibid., 52–53.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 57
R E ADI NG
A Commandant’s View
In 1971, journalist Gitta Sereny interviewed Franz Stangl, who had been the comman-
dant of the death camp at Sobibór and, later, the camp at Treblinka.
“Would it be true to say that you were used to the liquidations?”
He thought for a moment. “To tell the truth,” he then said, slowly and thoughtfully,
“one did become used to it.”
“Even so, if you felt that strongly, there had to be times, perhaps at night, in the
dark, when you couldn’t avoid thinking about it.”
“In the end, the only way to deal with it was to drink. I took a large glass of brandy
to bed with me each night and I drank.”
“Would it be true to say that you finally felt they weren’t really human beings?”
“When I was on a trip once, years later in Brazil,” he said, his face deeply concen-
trated and obviously reliving the experience, “my train stopped next to a slaughter-
house. The cattle in the pens, hearing the noise of the train, trotted up to the fence
and stared at the train. They were very close to my window, one crowding the other,
looking at me through that fence. I thought then, ‘Look at this; this reminds me of
Poland; that’s just how the people looked, trustingly, just before they went into the
tins . . . ’”
“You said tins,” I interrupted. “What do you mean?” But he went on without hear-
ing, or answering me.
“ . . . I couldn’t eat tinned meat after that. Those big eyes . . . which looked at me
. . . not knowing that in no time at all they’d all be dead.” He paused. His face was
drawn. At this moment he looked old and worn and sad.
“When do you think you began to think of them as cargo? The way you spoke earli-
er, of the day when you first came to Treblinka, the horror you felt seeing the dead
bodies everywhere—they weren’t ‘cargo’ to you then, were they?”
“I think it started the day I first saw the Totenlager [death camp] in Treblinka. I
remember [Christian Wirth, the man who set up the death camps] standing there
58 Teaching NIGHT
next to the pits full of blue-black corpses. It had nothing to do with humanity—it
couldn’t have; it was a mass—a mass of rotting flesh. Wirth said, ‘What shall we
do with this garbage?’ I think unconsciously that started me thinking of them as
cargo.”
“There were so many children; did they ever make you think of your children, of
how you would feel in the position of those parents?”
“No,” he said slowly, “I can’t say I ever thought that way.” He paused. “You see,”
he then continued, still speaking with this extreme seriousness and obviously
intent on finding a new truth within himself, “I rarely saw them as individuals. It
was always a huge mass. I sometimes stood on the wall and saw them in the tube.
But—how can I explain it—they were naked, packed together, running, being driven
with whips like . . . ” The sentence trailed off.
. . . “Could you not have changed that?” I asked. “In your position, could you not
have stopped the nakedness, the whips, the horror of the cattle pens?”
“No, no, no. This was the system. . . . It worked. And because it worked, it was
irreversible.”1
1 Gitta Sereny, Into that Darkness: An Examination of Conscience (London: Pan Books, 1977), 200–02.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 59
R E ADI NG
Voices from Auschwitz: Charlotte Delbo
Charlotte Delbo (1913–1985) was a member of the French resistance, along with her
husband, Georges Dudach. Neither was Jewish. Both were arrested in March 1942 by
French police who were collaborating with the Nazis. While Dudach was executed on
French soil, Delbo was deported in January 1943 to Auschwitz. This excerpt comes
from Delbo’s collection of post-war writings, None of Us Will Return.
Street for Arrivals, Street for Departures
There are people arriving. They scan the crowd of those who wait seeking those
who wait for them. They kiss them and they say that they are tired from the journey.
There are people leaving. They say good-by to those who are not leaving and they
kiss the children.
There is a street for people arriving and a street for people leaving.
There is a café called “Arrivals” and a café called “Departures.”
There are people arriving and there are people leaving.
But there is a station where those arriving are the same as those leaving
a station at which those arriving have never arrived, to which those leaving have
never returned
it is the biggest station in the world.
This is the station at which they arrive, wherever they come from.
They arrive here after days and nights
after crossing whole countries
they arrive here with children, even babies, who were not supposed to have been
taken
They have brought their children because you do not part with children for this
journey.
Those who had gold brought it along because they thought gold might be useful.
Everyone brought his dearest possession because you must not leave what is dear
to you when you go far away.
Everyone has brought his life along, above all it was his life that he had to bring
along.
And when they arrive
they think they have arrived
in Hell
possibly. Still they do not believe it.
They did not know that you could take a train to Hell but since they are here, they
steel themselves and feel ready to face it
with women, children, aged parents
with family keepsakes and family documents.
60 Teaching NIGHT
from not having slept across so many lands. At long last they are arriving, they will be
able to take care of them.
And when the soldiers shout to them to leave bundles and blankets and keepsakes
on the platform they leave them because they ought to be ready for anything and do
not wish to be surprised at anything. They say “We’ll see”; they have already seen so
much and they are tired from the journey.
The station is not a station. It is the end of a line. They look and they are stricken by
the desolation about them.
In the morning, fog hides the marshes.
In the evening, spotlights illuminate the white barbed-wire fences with the sharp-
ness of stellar photography. They believe that this is where they are being taken, and
they are terrified.
At night, they wait for daylight with the children weighing down their mothers’
arms. Wait and wonder.
In the daytime they do not wait. The lines start moving right away. Women and
children first, they are the most weary. The men next. They are also weary but relieved
that their wives and children are being taken care of first.
For the women and children always go first.
In the winter they are gripped by the cold. Especially those who come from Crete.
Snow is new to them.
In the summer the sun blinds them as they step down from the dark boxcars that
were sealed shut at the start of the journey.
At the start of the journey from France from the Ukraine from Albania from Belgium
from Slovakia from Italy from Hungary from the Peloponnesus from Holland from
Macedonia from Austria from Herzegovina from the shores of the Black Sea from the
shores of the Baltic from the shores of the Mediterranean and from the banks of the
Vistula.
They would like to know where they are. They do not know that this is the center of
Europe. They look for the name of the station. It is a station without a name.
A station which for them will never have a name.1
1 Charlotte Delbo, None of Us Will Return, trans. John Githens (Boston: Beacon Press, 1968), 5–13, 128.
Section 4: Auschwitz-Birkenau 61
62 Teaching NIGHT
5
MORAL COMPLEXITY
Reading Assignment
Pages 47–65
Overview
As this section begins, Eliezer and his father are selected for slave labor and moved
once again, this time to Buna/Monowitz, a satellite camp of Auschwitz owned by the
German industrial firm IG Farben. Eliezer and his father endure routine humilia-
tions and random violence at the hands of both German officers and kapos, prisoners
assigned to assist in the running of the camp. Eliezer’s father finds it harder and harder
to keep up, and Eliezer feels a troubling mixture of anger, love, and pity. As all the pris-
oners struggle with hunger, Eliezer says he is becoming nothing more than a “starved
stomach.” Although a public hanging briefly troubles him, he and the other men are
too hungry to think much beyond their dinner. Then a child and two adult prisoners
are hanged for hiding weapons. The other prisoners, forced to watch, feel a renewed Locate Buna on the
map “Eliezer’s
despair. It is in this environment of moral, physical, and spiritual extremes that Eliezer,
Forced Journey.”
his father, and the other prisoners try to stay alive.
The painful events of this section of the memoir can elicit powerful emotional re-
sponses and deep questions from students. We encourage teachers to take ample time
for discussion and to use some of the strategies for processing emotionally powerful
material described on page 3.
64 Teaching NIGHT
Scholar Lawrence Langer introduced the term “choiceless choices” to describe pris-
oners’ lack of true agency within the camps. This notion can illuminate many of the
experiences described in this section of the memoir.
Have students explore this notion by responding to the reading Choiceless Choices
using the Big Paper teaching strategy. Depending on the age and reading level of your
students, you may first want to paraphrase Langer’s definition and come to a shared
understanding as a class before beginning the Big Paper activity. You can use the con-
nection questions that follow the reading as prompts for students’ silent conversation
and follow-up class discussion.
66 Teaching NIGHT
Choiceless Choices
R E ADI NG
Scholar Lawrence Langer introduced the term “choiceless choices” to describe prison-
ers’ lack of true agency within the camps. He argues that behavior in the camps
. . . cannot be viewed through the same lens we used to view normal human
behavior since the rules of law and morality and the choices available for human
decisions were not permitted in these camps for extermination. As important as it is
to point out situations of dignity and morality which reinforce our notions of normal
behavior, it is all the more important here to try to convey the “unimaginable,”
where surviving in extremity meant an existence that had no relation to our system
of time and space and where physical survival under these conditions resulted in
“choiceless choices”!1
Connection Questions
1 Lawrence L. Langer, “The Dilemma of Choice in the Deathcamps,” Centerpoint: A Journal of Interdisciplinary Studies 4, no. 1
(Fall 1980): 53–58.
3. In a later memoir, Elie Wiesel wrote about inmates who tried “to show the killers
they could be just like them.” He said,
No one has the right to judge them, especially not those who did not experience
Auschwitz or Buchenwald. The sages of our Tradition state point-blank: “Do not
judge your fellow-man until you stand in his place.” In other words, in the same
situation, would I have acted as he did? Sometimes doubt grips me. Suppose I
had spent not eleven months but eleven years in a concentration camp. Am I sure I
would have kept my hands clean? No, I am not, and no one can be.3
4. Author Primo Levi, who also survived Auschwitz, also resisted the idea applying
standard notions of moral judgment to the camps. He wrote,
We now invite the reader to contemplate the possible meaning in the Lager [camp]
of the words “good” and “evil,” “just” and “unjust”; let everybody judge, on the
basis of the picture we have outlined . . . how much of our ordinary moral world
could survive on this side of the barbed wire.4
1 Marc A. Drumbl, “Victims Who Victimise,” London Review of International Law 4: 2 (2016): 217–46, https://academic.oup.
com/lril/article/4/2/217/2222520/Victims-who-victimise.
2 Doris Bergen, War and Genocide: A Concise History of the Holocaust, Third Edition (Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield Publishing
Group, 2016), 219.
3 Elie Wiesel, All Rivers Run to the Sea: Memoirs (New York: Knopf, 1995), 86–87.
4 Primo Levi, Survival in Auschwitz (New York: Touchstone, 1996), 86.
68 Teaching NIGHT
Varieties of Resistance
R E ADI NG
Jewish resistance to Nazi oppression occurred throughout the Holocaust. In homes
and schools, Jewish communities continued to observe religious rituals and holidays,
educate their children in secular and religious schools, write, play music, and express
their intellectual and artistic voices while defying the Nazi laws prohibiting such practic-
es. The struggle to maintain a sense of identity, dignity, faith, and culture was a form of
defiance, known today as “spiritual resistance.”
At other times, resistance occurred through physical and armed struggle. Even in the
most extreme of environments, such as the ghettos and the concentration and death
camps, Jewish prisoners organized armed uprisings, risking their lives and those of their
fellow prisoners. Professor Lawrence Langer explains:
A group working outside the barbed-wire fences of the Sobibor death camp over-
powered and killed the Ukrainian guards and escaped into the surrounding woods.
The SS summoned all the remaining prisoners in the camp to roll call, and randomly
chose every tenth one to be sent to the gas chamber. With what language or spirit
do we admire the heroic daring of the escapees, once we have learned the effect of
their flight? Does the life of the few “redeem” the death of the others? Or in celebrat-
ing one, do we defame the other? Neither query nor language begins to grasp the
complexity of situations like these, which elude common definition and cast us into a
morass of moral confusion.1
In Auschwitz, an armed uprising was organized and carried out by the 12th
Sonderkommando unit working in Crematorium IV.2 Jewish women such as Ester
Wajcblum, Ella Gärtner, and Regina Safirsztain, who worked in the nearby Auschwitz
munitions factory of Weichsel-Union Metallwerke, were the first in the chain of smug-
glers necessary for this uprising to occur. These women hid small amounts of gunpow-
der in bits of cloth, concealed them on and in their bodies, and passed them on to Rosa
Robota, who worked in the clothing detail at Birkenau. She would then pass them on to
her co-conspirators in the Sonderkommando, who would manufacture the crude explo-
sives and primitive grenades used later to launch the attack.
On October 7, 1944, after learning that his Sonderkommando unit was to be murdered,
Chaim Neuhof launched the revolt. Attacking SS guards in the crematoria with hammers
and axes smuggled in, Neuhof and other members of the Sonderkommando fought back
heroically, cutting fences, opening fire on the guards, and detonating explosives that were
attached to captured SS guards, despite being woefully outnumbered. With superior arms
and manpower, the Germans quickly suppressed the uprising. After being betrayed by one
of the Sonderkommando, all five of the women were captured. Despite being tortured for
months, they refused to reveal any remaining individuals involved in the uprising.
On January 5, 1945, all five were publicly hanged in front of the entire female camp
population. It was the last public execution held at the camp. Twelve days later,
German authorities forced all remaining prisoners, including Elie Wiesel and his father,
to leave Auschwitz-Birkenau in order to flee from the advancing Soviet Red Army.
1 Lawrence Langer, Art from the Ashes: A Holocaust Anthology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), 6.
2 “Prisoner Revolt at Auschwitz-Birkenau,” United States Holocaust Memorial Museum website, www.ushmm.org/learn/timeline-
of-events/1942-1945/auschwitz-revolt.
Overview
The previous section of Night ended with an inmate’s anguished cry at the hanging of
a young boy: “For God’s sake, where is God?” (page 65). Questioning God amid the
struggle to survive is a central theme of this section of the memoir, as Eliezer and other
prisoners ask whether they can—or should—maintain their faith and rituals despite
their suffering. On the eve of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, prisoners impro-
vise religious services and Eliezer attends, even though he feels like an outsider because
he has begun to question God. For a person who once said he believed “profoundly,”
Eliezer’s questioning of God is a signal of the drastic transformation of his identity. A
few days later, he, his father, and the others in the camp debate whether to fast on Yom
Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish year—the Day of Atonement.
Not long after Yom Kippur, another “selection” is announced, and this time Eliezer’s
father is chosen. Preparing for the end, he gives his son his inheritance—a knife and
a spoon. Eliezer spends the entire day fearing that his father has been taken away.
However, when he returns that night, his father is still there. He has somehow made it
through the final “selection.” Those who did not are seemingly forgotten in the terrible
days that follow—days when the prisoners receive “more blows than food.” By January,
Eliezer is in the camp infirmary with an infected foot, and he learns that the Soviet
Red Army is approaching Buna and that the camp will be evacuated. For the first time
in months, Eliezer and his father have a choice to make: they can leave with others or
stay behind. They decide to leave. They are marched with the other prisoners through
the icy countryside in the dead of winter to yet another unknown camp.
72 Teaching NIGHT
Activities for Deeper Understanding
1. Explore Themes of Faith and Doubt
Many of the central figures in Night, including Wiesel himself, are people for whom
faith, religious study, and ritual observance are at the heart of their lives. Among the
many conflicts and tragedies in Wiesel’s story is the way that the Holocaust unsettles
or even destroys their religious identities and beliefs. For believers, the Holocaust
raised painful questions, some of which Wiesel voices in his memoir: How could a
good and all-powerful God allow this to happen?
Such questions are shared by many survivors, and indeed by many people who study
the events of the Holocaust. But not all survivors answered these questions in the same
way as Wiesel, who writes in Night of the flames that “consumed my faith forever”
and the moments that “murdered my God and my soul” (page 34). Wiesel himself
revisited questions of faith and doubt in many other works that he wrote after Night.
Distribute the reading Faith after the Holocaust, an excerpt from David Weiss Halivni’s
memoir The Book and the Sword, as a complement to Night. Use the Connect, Extend,
Challenge teaching strategy to help students compare and contrast the two authors:
• How does each author experience religious life and rituals in the camps?
• How would you describe each author’s faith and relationship to God?
• What do these readings tell you about how the two authors’ experiences of the
Holocaust shaped their religious faith?
74 Teaching NIGHT
The strategies for processing emotionally powerful material described on page 3 are a
useful resource here. If your class explored Samuel Bak’s artwork, the Color, Symbol,
Image teaching strategy can be an especially relevant and meaningful way to synthe-
size ideas and reflect on this section of the memoir.
Upon seeing this wrapper, I instinctively fell at the feet of the guard, without even
realizing why; the mere letters propelled me. With tears in my eyes I implored him
to give me this bletl, this page. For a while he didn’t know what was happening; he
thought I was suffering from epilepsy. He immediately put his hand to his revolver,
the usual reaction to an unknown situation. But then he understood. This was, I
explained to him, a page from a book I had studied at home. Please, I sobbed, give
it to me as a souvenir. He gave me the bletl and I took it back to the camp. On the
Sundays we had off, we now had not only Oral Torah but Written Torah as well. The
bletl became a visible symbol of the connection between the camp and the activi-
ties of Jews throughout history.1
Later in his memoir, Halivni discusses how the war and the Holocaust influenced his
religious life:
I remember, after I came to the United States, Moshe Meisels Amishai, the Hebrew
philosopher, asked me, speaking in Yiddish, “Were you religious before the war?”
and I said, “Yes, of course, I was a chasid.” “Are you religious now?” he asked. I
said, “Yes.” And he said, “I understand those who were religious before and be-
came irreligious after, and those who were irreligious before and became religious
after. I can’t understand those who were religious before and remained religious
after. Nothing happened? Something must have changed.” . . .
Opposite forces bear upon the survivor. On the one hand, one must find fault with
what happened, for if there is no fault, there is indirect affirmation. If you continue
doing now what you would have done before, then you are saying that nothing was
wrong, that you do not relate to what happened . . . On the other hand, if you ac-
knowledge the wrong, then you risk cutting off the branch upon which you rest. . . .
We must somehow find room for acknowledging that something went awfully
wrong—that nobody extended help, not even God himself . . . Nonetheless, as
religious Jews, we have to know that without God there is no humanity. Life makes
sense only if we are hooked into something higher, something transcendent. It’s
1 David Weiss Halivni, The Book and the Sword: A Life of Learning in the Shadow of Destruction (Boulder, CO: Westview Press,
1998), 68–69.
76 Teaching NIGHT
like a trolley car, if you’ve ever been in a trolley car: you think the conductor’s in
charge, but the power comes from above. “Walk humbly with the Lord thy God”
(Micah 6:8)—like a child holding hands. You must hold hands, and walk. But that
does not mean that you always have to say, particularly in remembrance of the
Holocaust, “What you did was right.” It was terribly wrong.1
1 Lawrence L. Langer, In a Different Light: The Book of Genesis in the Art of Samuel Bak (Boston: Pucker Art Publications, 2001),
6, 9.
78 Teaching NIGHT
Courtesy of the Pucker Gallery
Creation of War Time, Samuel Bak
Artist and Holocaust survivor Samuel Bak’s 1999 painting depicts the relationship between God and human.
Teaching NIGHT
Creation of Adam, Michelangelo
Overview
The last section of Night tells the story of the final days of the Holocaust for Eliezer
and his father. After leaving Buna, they march 42 miles through the ice and snow.
They were among thousands of prisoners forced on “death marches” from Poland, as
German authorities tried to hide evidence of their crimes from approaching Allied
forces. Thousands walked from Poland to camps within occupied Germany, and thou-
sands died along the way.
Eliezer and his father survive the march to a new camp, Gleiwitz. There, unable to
sleep, Eliezer spends the night listening to the sound of a violin playing to an audience
of dead and dying men. The violinist is Juliek, a fellow prisoner from Buna. The next
morning, he too is dead. Three days later, the prisoners, still without food or drink,
face yet another “selection.” Once again, Eliezer’s father is “selected,” but in the confu-
sion, the two end up on the train to yet another camp, a desperate journey that kills
many of the prisoners.
When the train finally reaches Buchenwald, a concentration camp in Germany, only
12 prisoners in Eliezer’s car are still alive. Eliezer desperately tries to protect his sick
father, but the next day, his father is dead. Eliezer is unable to cry and even admits that
in “the recesses of his weakened conscience” he now feels free.
Three months later, as the war is drawing to a close, the Germans decide to evacuate
the camp and kill off the remaining prisoners. Before they can act, the camp resistance
movement drives the Germans out of Buchenwald. That evening the Americans arrive. Locate Gleiwitz and
The book ends with Eliezer in the hospital, a victim of food poisoning. After hovering Buchenwald on the
between life and death for two weeks, he looks into a mirror, the first he has seen in a map “Eliezer’s
year. He sees a “corpse” gazing back from the mirror: “The look in his eyes as he gazed Forced Journey.”
at me has never left me” (page 115).
82 Teaching NIGHT
Connecting to the Central Question
After exploring the text and reviewing the events that take place in this section of the
book, give students an opportunity to revisit their thinking about this guide’s central
question:
Q: How is our identity shaped and reshaped by the circumstances we encounter?
How do tragedy and trauma influence an individual’s identity and choices?
Give students a few minutes to reflect and write in their journals about the changes
they have noticed in Eliezer’s identity as he endures forced marches, loses his father,
and barely survives after the end of the war. If you are having students use identi- Refer to your
ty timelines, they may help in this reflection. Do the students’ observations about identity timeline.
Eliezer’s changing identity support their previous thinking about the central question?
Or do they prompt them to revise their thinking?
A culminating activity designed to help students synthesize their thinking about
the central question over the course of the entire book is provided below (Socratic
seminar).
Preparation
In class: If you have never held a Socratic seminar with your students, spend
a few moments brainstorming the qualities that make for a successful semi-
nar. These might include defining norms for respectful dialogue, grounding
discussion with evidence from the text, asking probing questions, and sharing
airtime. You can also use these criteria to create a grading rubric to evaluate
the seminar and students’ participation.
At home: Remind students of the central question and explain that the
Socratic seminar will explore these questions through the lens of Night. To
prepare for the seminar, students should:
• Select three to five key moments and quotations that speak to the central
question. If students created identity timelines for Eliezer, they can draw
on their timelines for relevant events and quotations. Otherwise, stu-
Implementation
Depending on the number of students in your class, consider breaking them
into smaller groups so that each student can more readily participate in the
discussion. On the day of the Socratic seminar, try to arrange the classroom
desks in circles or horseshoes so that the students in each group can see or
hear each other. There should be no back rows.
Before beginning, check to make sure that students have completed their
preparation work and remind them of the rubric or ground rules.
A Socratic seminar conversation should be guided primarily by students.
Begin with one part of the central question. As the discussion progresses,
students can also introduce other questions of their own. Socratic seminars
should be held for at least 20 minutes and can last for a whole class period or
even longer.
Reflection
A few minutes before the end of class, ask students to write in their journals
about new insights or ideas that surfaced during the seminar; they can also
freewrite about one part of the central question. Alternatively, students can
reflect on the process of the Socratic seminar: What went well? What was chal-
lenging? What role did they themselves play in the discussion? What would
they like to do differently in a future Socratic seminar?
Extension
Students can use their preparation for the seminar and the ideas generated
in the seminar itself to inform an essay written in response to one part of the
central question.
84 Teaching NIGHT
• What memories does Radnóti describe? What sights, sounds, smells, and feelings
does he evoke?
• How does the structure and appearance of the poem on the page reinforce its
themes?
• What does the poem have in common with Wiesel’s passage about Juliek?
• What might the writing of the poem and the playing of the violin have meant for
each man?
After your discussion, you might choose to play a recording of the Beethoven violin
concerto. As students listen, they can write in their journals, compose a poem, or draw
a picture. In writing or images, students can capture what mood the music evokes,
how it adds to their understanding of this scene in Night, and what emotions it arouses
in them.
• How do these sources describe the physical, mental, and emotional state of
survivors?
• What questions and choices did survivors face after liberation? What options did
Wiesel and others consider?
• What did “liberation” mean for Wiesel? To what extent were survivors “free” after
they were released from the camps?
• What do you think Wiesel meant by “the other side of the wall” in his letter to
Judith Hemmendinger? What was the wall that separated the survivors from her
and others who tried to help them? What do you think allowed some survivors to
cross to the other side of that wall?
1 Miklós Radnóti, Forced March: Selected Poems, trans. Clive Wilmer and George Gömöri, rev. ed. (London: Enitharmon, 2003),
85.
86 Teaching NIGHT
After Liberation
R E ADI NG
Although Elie Wiesel ends Night immediately after the liberation of Buchenwald, his
story—and his struggle to return to life—would continue. Years later, Wiesel wrote at
greater length about his memories of liberation:
Strangely, we did not “feel” the victory. There were no joyous embraces, no shouts
or songs to mark our happiness, for that word was meaningless to us. We were not
happy. We wondered whether we ever would be. . . .
Wiesel was one of hundreds of children among the survivors at Buchenwald. Many
were orphans. They debated what to do. Eventually, a group of boys from Buchenwald
was invited to go to a home for orphans in Écouis, France, run by a child welfare
organization. Judith Feist Hemmendinger was a volunteer who offered to help care for
the children. When the overwhelmed director of the home quit his job shortly after
the boys arrived, she took his place and remained with the boys until September 1947,
when the last boy was placed in a permanent home. She wrote of her experiences:
Écouis was an abandoned sanatorium placed at the disposal of the OSE [a group
that saved Jewish children during the war] by the French government. The OSE had
prepared 500 beds for little children, unaware that nearly 400 were aged twelve to
twenty-one and only thirty were between eight and twelve years old. They looked
like bandits, suspicious and mute. Their heads were shorn; all dressed the same,
with faces still swollen from hunger and not a smile to be seen. Their eyes bespoke
sadness and suspicion. They were apathetic towards the outside world. They
likened the supervisors to guards and were terror stricken at the sight of doctors
who reminded them of Mengele, the man who, upon their arrival in Auschwitz, had
sent the weak ones to gas chambers, the able-bodied to slave labor . . .
For these young people, all adults were potential enemies who were not to be
trusted. One day they were served Camembert cheese for dessert. The strong smell
convinced them that it was poison. They threw the cheese at the adults who were
supervising dinner. . . .
There were many visitors who came to Écouis to talk with the young survivors of
Buchenwald. There were journalists and rabbis and numerous officials who came to
meet with these earliest arrivals from Germany . . . The children listened silently to
the beautiful and affectionate words, noted that it was well meant, but did not react
for they were totally disillusioned about human nature.
1 Elie Wiesel, All Rivers Run to the Sea: Memoirs (New York: Knopf, 1995), 95–98.
Not long after Hemmendinger’s account was published in 1989, she received a letter
from one of the “boys,” Elie Wiesel:
I read your book and I remember. I see us back in 1945. . . . The dumbfounded
instructors, the disoriented children . . . Did you know, Judith, that we pitied you?
We felt sorry for you. I hope you are not angry that I speak so openly? You thought
you could educate us, and yet the younger of us knew more than the oldest of
you, about what existed in the world, of the futility of life, the brutal triumph of
death. We were not impressed with your age, or your authority. We observed you
with amusement and mistrust. We felt ourselves stronger than you. How did you
succeed to tame us, Judith? . . .
Reasonably, Judith, we were doomed to live cloistered lives on the other side of
the wall. And yet we succeeded in a short time to find ourselves on the same side.
To whom can we attribute the miracle? How can one explain it? To our belief? To
yours?3
2 Judith Hemmendinger, “The Buchenwald Boys,” in Judith Hemmendinger and Robert Krell, The Children of Buchenwald: Child
Survivors of the Holocaust and Their Post-War Lives (Gefen Press, 2000), 27–31.
3 Elie Wiesel, quoted in Hemmendinger and Krell, The Children of Buchenwald, 10–11.
88 Teaching NIGHT
Post-Reading:
8
MEMORY AND
RESPONSIBILITY
Overview
In 1986, Elie Wiesel reflected,
I remember: it happened yesterday or eternities ago. A young Jewish boy discov-
ered the kingdom of night. I remember his bewilderment, I remember his anguish.
It all happened so fast. The ghetto. The deportation. The sealed cattle car. The fiery
altar upon which the history of our people and the future of mankind were meant to
be sacrificed.
I remember: he asked his father: “Can this be true?” This is the twentieth century,
not the Middle Ages. Who would allow such crimes to be committed? How could the
world remain silent?
And now the boy is turning to me: “Tell me,” he asks. “What have you done with my
future? What have you done with your life?”1
In the 71 years between liberation and his death in 2016, Wiesel wrote, taught, and
became known as a witness to the Holocaust and a prominent voice of conscience.
After the war, he learned that his mother and youngest sister perished at Auschwitz,
but his two older sisters survived. He worked in France and Israel as a teacher, transla-
tor, and journalist, but he didn’t begin writing the book that would become Night until
1955, fully ten years after liberation; it was published in 1960. He later emigrated to the
United States and wrote dozens of books, works of fiction, essays, and even music. He
urged leaders to respond to injustice around the world, speaking out about the plight
of Jews in the then–Soviet Union and Iran, against massacres in Bosnia, and in favor of
peace and human dignity around the world. In 1986, he was awarded the Nobel Peace
Prize. Night became a standard text in high schools and colleges, selling hundreds of
thousands of copies each year.
To Wiesel, the memory and legacy of the Holocaust created a profound sense of re-
sponsibility to be a witness to suffering and inhumanity in our contemporary world.
The activities and resources in this section explore what it means to be a witness and
how our memory of history might influence our choices in the world today.
2 Quoted in Paul Vitello, “The Urgency of Bearing Witness,” New York Times, April 9, 2010, www.nytimes.com/2010/04/10/nyre-
gion/10calligrapher.html.
90 Teaching NIGHT
memory, witness, and responsibility. (Alternatively, teachers can use the Big Paper
teaching strategy to engage students in a silent discussion on questions 4 and/or 5.)
1. How did Wiesel and Ferencz connect their memories of the war and the
Holocaust to the choices they made during the remainder of their lives? How do
you think their personal histories shaped their universes of obligation?
2. Unlike Wiesel and Ferencz, Sonari Glinton did not have a direct experience of
the war or the Holocaust. In what sense is he a witness? How does Glinton con-
nect Wiesel’s teachings to his own life experiences as a black man in the United
States?
3. What responsibility do witnesses have? What phrases or sentences in the read-
ings or film reveal something about what it might mean to be a witness?
4. Do you agree with Elie Wiesel that “to listen to a witness is to become a wit-
ness”? In what sense are you a witness now that you have read his memoir? Is
there something in your own world or life experience that you feel a responsibil-
ity to remember and share with others?
5. How has studying the history of the Holocaust and Wiesel’s story informed your
own sense of responsibility today?
Memory, he said, wasn’t just for Holocaust survivors. The people who ask us to
forget are not our friends. Memory not only honors those we lost but also gives us
strength. In those office hours, he gave me a shield, practical words and thoughts
that would help me—a gay, Nigerian, Catholic journalist. He gave me tools that
would aid me in an often hostile world. Over the years, I have found myself quoting
Professor Wiesel to white people who want me to “get over race.” “That’s old.” “It
was a hundred years ago.” But Professor Wiesel had been emphatic: Nothing good
comes of forgetting; remember, so that my past doesn’t become your future . . .
So, as a journalist, at times without noticing, I find myself helping others to re-
member or bear witness. I will not forget the victims of police torture I reported on
in Chicago, or Lafonso Rollins, who was falsely imprisoned for rape . . . And when
Trayvon Martin’s parents went to Capitol Hill and the press corps was less than
sensitive, I remember kneeling in front of his grieving parents with my microphone.
Why in those moments would I want to forget?
During the 2012 presidential campaign, I was stopped in Michigan, Indiana, Iowa
and Ohio. I have tried to shield my friends and co-workers from the fear, anger and
indignities I face on a daily basis. That futile exercise has cost me dearly. I realize
that I have a responsibility to let people know about what affects me. But I also
know that, as a black man, that has costs as well. Mentioning race to white Ameri-
cans has almost never failed to cause me pain or to be attacked . . . As I grow older,
and feel the need to speak up more, I understand just a little the burden Elie Wiesel
took on.
92 Teaching NIGHT
And that’s what I mourn when I think about him now. I mourn the man who taught
me that in many ways laughter is the greatest victory. I mourn the man who saw me
struggling and tried to give me tools to survive. I mourn the man who let me know
that those who demand that I forget are not my friends. I mourn the teacher who
made a solemn vow to me as a student in the ’90s and kept it. I mourn the fact that
with him gone, I’m now more responsible for bearing witness. It saddens me that
there’s still so much to bear witness to.1
1 Sonari Glinton, “Forgetting Isn’t Healing: Lessons from Elie Wiesel,” Code Switch, NPR website, July 14, 2016, www.npr.org/
sections/codeswitch/2016/07/14/484558040/forgetting-isnt-healing-lessons-from-elie-wiesel.
Oh, I don’t believe there are answers. There are no answers. And this museum is
not an answer; it is a question mark. If there is a response, it is a response in
responsibility . . .
What have we learned? We have learned some lessons, minor lessons, perhaps,
that we are all responsible, and indifference is a sin and a punishment. And we have
learned that when people suffer we cannot remain indifferent.
And, Mr. President, I cannot not tell you something. I have been in the former Yugo-
slavia last fall. I cannot sleep since for what I have seen. As a Jew I am saying that we
must do something to stop the bloodshed in that country! People fight each other and
children die. Why? Something, anything must be done.
This is a lesson. There are many other lessons. You will come, you will learn. We shall
learn together.1
Wiesel’s message continues to resonate in the twenty-first century, at a time when many
would say that the “lessons” of the Holocaust have not been learned and the promise
of “never again” has not been fulfilled. Remembering post–World War II genocides in
Cambodia, Rwanda, the former Yugoslavia, and Darfur, a group of scholars and activists
observed, “Leaders at every level seem to love hearing themselves declare ‘Never Again.’
But those who mean it have no power and those with power never mean it. The record
speaks for itself . . . ”
In the face of this dismal record, the memory of the Holocaust continues to inspire peo-
ple to work to end genocide and mass violence—a task that will require the dedication,
persistence, and vigilance of generations.
1 Elie Wiesel, “Elie Wiesel’s Remarks at the Dedication Ceremonies for the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, April 22,
1993,” United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, www.ushmm.org.
94 Teaching NIGHT
NIGHT Glossary Terms
Antisemitism: A form of racism, hostility, and discrimination toward Jewish people as
a group.
Appelplatz: German word referring to the area in concentration camps where prison-
ers were required to assemble for daily roll call. These spaces were also often used for
humiliation and execution of prisoners.
Aryan: Refers to a mythical race of people that many Northern Europeans believed
they had descended from and that was described by the Nazis as the “master race.” The
myth of the Aryan race was used to justify discrimination against and persecution of
peoples that the Nazis considered to be of inferior, non-Aryan races.
Auschwitz: A network of camps, including multiple forced labor camps and a killing
center (Auschwitz-Birkenau) equipped with gas chambers. More than one million
people, mostly Jewish, were murdered by the Nazis there.
Babylon: A major city in ancient Mesopotamia, located in present-day Iraq, near the
modern city of Hillah. In 587 BCE, Babylonian general Nebuchadnezzar destroyed the
city of Jerusalem and the Hebrew temple there. As a result, Babylon often symbolizes
brutal oppression in Jewish and Christian tradition.
Barracks: A building or group of buildings in which laborers or prisoners are housed,
often in wretched conditions. During the Holocaust, prisoners in the Nazi camp sys-
tem slept in barracks.
Beadle: An official at a church or synagogue who assists in religious functions and is
the caretaker of the building.
Blockälteste: A German word that translates to “block elder.” This person was a kapo
who was in charge of the other inmates in a single barrack in a Nazi camp. See kapo.
Buchenwald: One of the largest concentration camps used by the Nazis during the
Holocaust. While Buchenwald did not have gas chambers, many died there due to
malnourishment, disease, hard labor, medical experimentation, shooting, or hanging.
Further, many Soviet prisoners of war were brought to Buchenwald for execution.
Chasid: A member of a sect of Judaism that focuses on spirituality, piety, and tra-
ditionalism. Hasidism still exists today, with many Hasidic Jews living in close-knit
“courts” in America, Britain, and Israel. These communities each follow a specific
“rebbe,” or rabbi, often from a dynastic line of rabbis.
Chief Rabbi: The title given to the religious leader of a given country’s Jewish
community.
Communism: A political and economic ideology based on the ideas of Karl Marx and
Friedrich Engels, in which property is owned collectively and distributed to citizens
according to need. A version of the ideology was the foundation for the government of
the Soviet Union, and many countries had communist political groups in the twenti-
eth century.
96 Teaching NIGHT
Gleiwitz: A small German town near the Polish border. Here, the Nazis staged an attack
and blamed it on Poland, using the event as an excuse to declare war in September 1939.
Irrevocable: Final; no longer able to be changed.
Jewish Council: Established by the Nazis in Jewish communities and ghettos, these
councils were tasked with ensuring that Nazi orders and policies were carried out in their
communities. Members of Jewish Councils often faced unthinkable moral dilemmas as
they had to decide whether it was in their and their communities’ best interests to follow
or resist Nazi orders. They were often charged with choosing who would be deported to
Nazi camps and killing centers.
Jewish police: Established by the Jewish Councils upon Nazi order, they were tasked with
carrying out Nazi directives within the ghetto, including deportations from the ghetto to
camps and killing sites. Like Jewish Council members, they were often faced with difficult
moral dilemmas.
Kabbalah: Jewish teachings of mysticism.
Kaddish: A hymn of praise to God in the Jewish prayer service said in memorial of
someone who has died.
Kapo: Inmates in Nazi camps responsible for supervising other inmates during camp
procedures and forced labor. Kapos had some special privileges in the camps, including
increased chances of survival, but they were required to enforce brutal Nazi policies and
were held responsible for disorder. Some kapos acted, when possible, to protect other
inmates from the Nazis. Others treated other inmates savagely.
Kommando: German word for “unit” or “detachment.” In Nazi concentration and labor
camps, this term was often used to refer to groups of enslaved workers.
Labor camp: Nazi camps in which prisoners were forced to do hard labor, often pointless
and humiliating. Many labor camp prisoners died from malnourishment and exhaustion.
Lagerälteste: The highest-ranking kapo in a Nazi concentration or labor camp. He was
responsible for overseeing lower-ranking kapos (such as Blockältestes) and making sure
rules were followed by prisoners throughout the camp. See kapo.
Lament: A passionate expression of grief.
Liquidate: A euphemism the Nazis used for mass murder.
Maimonides: Also known as Moses ben Maimon, a well-known and revered rabbi and
physician from medieval Cordova.
Master of the Universe: Term often used in Hebrew prayers to refer to God.
Mengele, Josef: A German SS officer and physician who was in charge of deciding who
was fit to work and who would be sent to the gas chambers at Auschwitz. He also per-
formed many deadly human experiments on prisoners.
Messiah: The leader or savior of the Jewish people and prophesied deliverer of the Jewish
nation.
98 Teaching NIGHT
Shekhinah: The female conjugation of the term for “the Divine presence” in Judaism.
Often used to refer to the female aspect of God.
Sonderkommando: Prisoners in killing centers who were forced to lead other prison-
ers into gas chambers and then, once dead, bring their bodies to the crematoria to be
burned. While sonderkommando were temporarily spared from execution, very few
survived; the Nazis murdered and replaced the sonderkommando every few months.
Spanish Inquisition: An organization put in place by King Ferdinand II and Queen
Isabella I in 1478 to root out Jewish and Muslim influence in Spain through imprison-
ment, expulsion, or execution.
SS, or Schutzstaffel: Nazi “protection squadrons” that began as bodyguards for Hitler
and other party officials in the 1920s and grew into the leading security force, com-
prised of the supposed “racial elite,” in the Nazi government. The SS was responsible
for carrying out the “Final Solution to the Jewish Question” and operating Nazi con-
centration camps and killing centers during World War II.
Synagogue: A building that is the center of Jewish social and spiritual life.
Talmud: The set of teachings on the Torah that form the basis for all Jewish law.
Talmudic treatise: Short essays written after the Talmud was put together that detail
some things that the Talmud does not mention. Usually printed at the end of Seder
Nezikin in the Talmud.
Temple: Often used synonymously with today’s word synagogue, temple historically
referred to the original temple in Jerusalem, before it was destroyed by the Romans in
70 AD.
Transports: Buses and trains used to deliver prisoners to and from Nazi camps.
Yom Kippur: The Day of Atonement, a day when Jewish people repent for their sins
and start the year fresh. It is considered the holiest day of the Jewish year.
Zionism: A movement for the re-establishment, development, and protection of a
Jewish nation in Israel.
Zionist youth organization: Movements and organizations in Eastern Europe in the
twentieth century to help establish a feeling of Jewish nationalism and to keep Zionist
ideas alive in Jewish youth.
Zohar: The foundational writing of Kabbalah.
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