Nie wieder

Given Germany's historical responsibility for the Holocaust, support for the State of Israel is a matter of German national interest. 

With regard to the treatment of Palestinians, legitimate criticism of Israel is increasingly leading to anti-Semitism across the political spectrum - on both the left and the right - fueled by Muslims living in Germany. Anti-Semitic resentment lurks behind the supposed advocacy for Palestinian rights. Nearly one half of Germans agree with the statement that Israelis are doing to the Palestinians what the Nazis did to the Jews.

Provocation:
On November 8, 2026, a Palestinian flag in front of the Reichstag building in Berlin (©NZZ)

Anti-Semitic slogans at demonstrations and aggressive activism on college campuses are increasingly resulting in attacks on Jewish life.

In the view of Jewish communities, the police patrols previously stationed outside synagogues are no longer sufficient.

©Caritas

Thus, after much hesitation, the city of Freiburg has granted the repeatedly requested protective fence around the "new" synagogue. Mayor Martin Horn stated: "It is alarming that such a measure is necessary. At the same time, it is our duty to do everything we can to protect Jewish life in Freiburg as best as possible. After careful consideration and in close consultation with the Jewish community, we have decided to take this step. The protection of the community and harmonious coexistence in our city are at the heart of this decision."

As early as 1991, the German-Israeli political scientist David Ranan remarked: "To this day, Jews are regarded as a barometer for the state of democracy in Germany, and normal Jewish life is not possible as long as there is a need for an anti-Semitism commissioner. If such a position is absolutely necessary, then one should at least have created the position of an anti-racism commissioner ... The point should be not to single out Jews but to condemn dehumanization, no matter who it affects."

Looking back at its past, Germany has a particularly hard time dealing with the "new" anti-Semitism.

In pouring rain

Against this backdrop, the 88th commemoration of the synagogue fire took place yesterday at the Old Synagogue Square.

Addressing the drenched crowd and soaked Red Baron in the Old Synagogue Square ...

... Freiburg's Mayor Martin Horn found the right words

The outdoor commemoration was followed by a

in the Winterer Forum at the Municipal Theater.

Soprano Inga Schäfer sang the Kaddish* in Hebrew by Maurice Ravel.

*May His great name be magnified and sanctified in the world which He has created according to His will

This was followed by a reading about Max Mayer's fate in Freiburg:

Max Mayer ran a historic Jewish-owned leather goods and shoemaker supply business, Lederhandlung Leser & Mayer, at Schusterstraße 23.

©Julika Häusling

Under pressure from Nazi persecution and anti-Semitic laws, Max Mayer sold the business in 1935 to his employee Eugen Rees, who continued it under the name Leder-Rees, which still operates at the same location today.

Max was forced to emigrate because of the Nazi regime. His daughter, Lotte (married name Paepcke), wrote about growing up in the house on Schusterstraße and how the Nazi era affected her family.

Lotte recalls that even before the Nazis began systematically persecuting Jews, her father often emphasized: "You have to behave yourself so you don't stand out."

"Then the doorbell rang in the middle of the night." 

On November 9, 1938, Lotte's father was taken away without further explanation, detained at the Kornhaus ...

... and subsequently transported by train to the Dachau concentration camp.

After several weeks, he returned home, scarred by abuse and humiliation.

After two grueling years of waiting in Switzerland, Max and Olga Mayer received permission to immigrate to the United States. There, relatives helped them find a modest apartment in Manhattan.

Both of Lotte's parents worked - her mother as a seamstress at home, and her father as a messenger and later as a music copyist.

After her mother's death, Lotte brought her father back to Germany. Despite the city's destruction, he found familiar surroundings and watched Freiburg's reconstruction with interest. 

Lotte describes him, who was small in stature, as a "little American," for he could no longer feel like a German, even though he was "happy to have the language back."

He was carried out "to the small Jewish cemetery, and in the Kaddish the Eternal One was praised, 'as is customary.'"

Never again.

**