In Germany today, descendants of Nazi perpetrators are confronting their family histories and standing publicly against Holocaust denial and antisemitism. At a time of rising antisemitism and growing Holocaust distortion, their voices offer an unexpected and deeply meaningful answer to an urgent question: when the survivors are no longer here, who will stand up and say clearly that the Holocaust did happen?

In Germany, I found an unexpected answer.

I recently attended the March of Life conference in Tübingen, Germany, a small university town that was a hotbed of Nazism 90 years ago. From this region came individuals responsible for the murder of more than 600,000 Jews during the Holocaust.

I accompanied the inspirational Holocaust survivor Irene Shashar, who came bravely, and not without fear, to speak with descendants of Nazis. Irene lost her childhood in the Holocaust. She witnessed the murder of her father, was smuggled through the sewers of the Warsaw Ghetto, and hid in closets as a terrified young child in order to survive.

Thankfully, she survived.

March of Life was founded in 2007 by Jobst and Charlotte Bittner, German Christians who felt compelled to confront the silence surrounding their nation’s past, including their own family histories. For many participants, the discoveries are devastating. Some uncover SS affiliations. Others find documentation of participation in the Wehrmacht or the Einsatzgruppen units responsible for mass shootings. Their shame is real. The guilt is heavy.

But what defines this movement is what comes next.

Members of the TOS Church speak openly about what they have uncovered. They march publicly in cities across Germany and around the world, declaring that the Holocaust happened, that antisemitism must be confronted, and that silence is no longer acceptable. They build relationships with Jewish communities. They support Holocaust remembrance initiatives. They stand visibly with Israel.

For me, as CEO of March of the Living Israel, and as a descendant of Holocaust survivors who lost both of my great-grandfathers in Auschwitz, this was profoundly moving.

When Holocaust denial grows louder, the voices that will carry unique moral authority will not only be Jewish voices. They will also be German voices. Voices that say: the Holocaust happened. It happened to the Jewish people. And our families were part of it.

That declaration dismantles denial at its core.

The founders of March of Life often speak about breaking the “silence of the generations.” For decades after the war, many German families did not speak about what had happened. Children did not ask. Grandchildren did not probe. The past remained buried.

A similar silence existed among Holocaust survivors. For years, many did not speak of what they had endured. They buried the pain, humiliation, and grief in silence, trying to rebuild their lives without reopening unbearable wounds.

That silence began to break during the Eichmann trial in 1961. For the first time, survivors publicly opened what I call the “black boxes” of their memories. Not only did their testimonies transform their own lives. They transformed global understanding. The world began to grasp not only the scale of the crime, but the human story behind it. The perception of what it meant to be a Holocaust survivor changed forever.

For Germans, it took decades longer to open their own “black boxes.” It was through the vision and faith of Jobst and Charlotte Bittner that a movement emerged to confront what had long been buried. These revelations, and the moral calling that followed, created what Jobst himself describes, borrowing a term from Jewish tradition, as teshuva: repentance, moral reckoning, and ultimately, action.

This does not erase the past. Nothing can. But it transforms inheritance into moral responsibility.

Standing in Tübingen, I understood something deeply hopeful: We are not alone in our mission to protect and ensure Holocaust memory.

The descendants at the conference promised Irene Shashar they would carry her story forward. They committed to being active in safeguarding Holocaust memory by fighting both silence and denial. Long after Irene and other survivors are gone, they will say: the Holocaust happened. It happened to Irene, and it happened to the Jewish people. And our families were part of it.

For decades, Jewish survival has required vigilance. Our historical modus operandi has been survival. We learned not to rely on others. We became accustomed to standing alone.

But at that gathering, I felt something different.

March of the Living was founded on the belief that memory must lead to responsibility. What I witnessed in Tübingen was that responsibility can cross even the deepest historical divide. Descendants of victims and descendants of perpetrators can stand together in honest confrontation with the past.

During the conference, I spoke with many descendants about their horrific family histories, including those whose grandparents played roles in deportations, in building and managing the camps, and in carrying out mass murder.

I found myself confronting a difficult realization: being the grandchild of a perpetrator is not necessarily easier than being the grandchild of a victim. Both inherit a heavy burden, one of guilt or grief, of shame or sorrow, of pain not personally chosen, yet deeply carried.

What began as a local initiative in Tübingen has, in less than two decades, grown into an international movement active in more than 25 nations. I hope more Germans, and others whose nations collaborated with the Nazi regime, will break the silence, open their family “black boxes”, and join this effort at the forefront against denial.

The remaining survivors need to see this movement grow within their lifetime. We have limited time left with them. They need to know that their story will be carried forward for generations to come.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)