Commentary: From links to bonds—what factors determined the survival of Jews during the holocaust?
*Corresponding author. Department of Social Medicine, Canynge Hall, Whiteladies Road, Bristol BSW8 2PR, London, UK. E-mail: y.ben-shlomo{at}bristol.ac.uk
Keywords Holocaust, social capital, social networks, health inequalities
Accepted 22 February 2007
‘... and whoever saves a single life is as if he had saved an entire universe.’Jewish Mishnah, Sanhedrin 4:5
There are probably few readers who are not familiar with the diary of Anne Frank, a young Jewish Dutch girl, originally of German nationality, who wrote her diary whilst in hiding from the Nazis but was eventually betrayed and died in Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. Peter Tammes1 provides a new quantitative analysis examining which sociodemographic factors were associated with the survival of Dutch Jewry using record linkage between the Amsterdam Jewish register and a list of all Jews who died in the German camps. This work in some ways represents a fairly unique test of ideas around social capital. Szreter and Woolcock2 have conceptualized three types of social capital; bonding, bridging and linking capital. Bonding capital reflects trusting and cooperative relations between members of a network who see themselves as being similar. Bridging capital is the respect and mutuality between people who are not alike in some sociodemographic sense but who are more or less equal in power and linking capital is the network of respect and trust between people who are interacting across explicit, formal or institionalized power or authority gradients. There is perhaps no more extreme test of linking capital than trying to understand why some non-Jews risked their lives to help and rescue Jews under Nazi occupation.
The holocaust or ‘Shoah’ resulted in the death of around 6 million Jews in over 35 separate countries as well as other minority groups such as the Sinti and Roma. The largest death toll occurred in Central Europe especially Poland, where 3 million Jews were killed. Holland had a relatively small Jewish community before the war (140 000, including 20 000 German and Austrian refugees). However, unlike Poland, with a long history of anti-semitism and pogroms, Holland had always been a country of religious tolerance, which welcomed many Jews after their expulsion from Spain in 1492.3 This is perhaps reflected by the fact that 4464 Dutch citizens have received ‘Righteous Among the Nations’ awards by Yad Vashem in Jerusalem, second only to Poles.3 This award is given to non-Jews who risked their lives to save Jews, such as Oskar Schindler. Despite this mass showing of bravery, the outcome for Dutch Jews was dismal, and only around 25% of those living in Amsterdam survived the holocaust.
Tammes’ results highlights that having non-Jewish family, being secular or a convert and higher socioeconomic status were all factors associated with an increased chance of survival whilst unskilled workers and those having a large family experienced worse survival. It seems fairly obvious that Jews with large families would be less likely to survive as it would be harder to hide or get protection from others as well as requiring greater assets to find food, clothing, transportation and false documents. The marked social gradient that is observed is clearly open to several possible interpretations. Social epidemiologists have long argued over the relative importance of neo-materialist and psychosocial explanations for social inequalities in disease.4 However, as Szreter and Woolcock argue, ‘it would seem most sensible to assume that both viewpoints could be valid’.2 In this case, affluence may be associated with better survival for a variety of reasons. Material factors would determine the chance of escaping by purchasing false documents, bribing guards or paying money to non-Jews to hide you, and purchasing transportation either legal or illegal, out of the country. However, professionals may have had better quality social networks so that they knew or could influence individuals in positions of authority, such as the Jewish Council. They may have also possessed skills that were valued by both the Jewish and non-Jewsih community. For example, a Jewish doctor who served the health needs of both Jews and non-Jews would have their deportation to a concentration camp deferred. In addition, their knowledge and skills would mean that they would be more likely to be hidden either by patients of theirs or by the underground movement, so that they could care for the wounded and sick. However, education is also important independent of its association with income. In the 1931 census, 79% of Polish Jews gave Yiddish as their mother tongue and only 12% gave Polish. Less-educated Polish Jews spoke Polish badly or with distinctive mannerisms that would quickly betray their Jewish origin.5 This made hiding as a non-Jew difficult, if not impossible. This would be a less significant factor in Holland where the Jewish population was far more assimilated, but even here the ability to look and sound Aryan may have helped some survivors pass as non-Jewish. The protective effect of having non-Jewish family may, therefore, not just reflect having non-Jewish family to hide or protect an individual, but may also be a proxy measure for both secularization and not looking like the stereotypical Jew with dark curly hair and brown eyes.
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Complementing Tammes’ quantitative work is the qualitative research of Nechama Tec5, herself a holocaust survivor who survived by pretending to be a Christian girl and living with Christian Poles. This is perhaps one of the richest accounts of why some Jews survived and why some Christians risked their lives to help them. Her review of archival material and 65 interviews with both survivors and rescuers provide fascinating as well as moving insights. Her analysis highlights both macro and micro-level factors6 that influenced the success of the Nazi ‘final solution’ and highlights the importance of considering the historical life course of nations as well as individuals.7
At a macro-level, the most important determinant, in her view, was Nazi control of the governmental machinery. This, in turn, was partially influenced by the Nazi attitude to the occupied country's Christian population. So, all Slavs were seen as only slightly superior to Jews, whilst the Scandinavians were given the highest racial rank next to Aryans. In Denmark, the Danes were left to govern themselves until 1943 and Jews were left alone. Even after the Nazis took over the government, the Danes refused to hand over their small Jewish population and moved them to Sweden. It was the Danes’ refusal to see Jews as anything but Danish citizens that meant they did not accept the imposed power divisions enforced by the Nazis. This could be taken as a national example of bridging capital rather than linking capital to use Szreter and Woolcock's terminology. In Holland, however, despite similar progressive attitudes, the Nazis appointed Artur Von Seyss-Inquart as Reichscommisar who implemented anti-Jewish policies with such vigour that Dutch resistance was far less successful.5
Tec's analysis explicitly considers why non-Jews risked their lives to help and hide Jews in Poland. She considers the role of class, financial reward, politics, friendship, anti-semitism and religion as possible micro-level factors.5 Whilst all these factors had some role, Tec highlights their inability to fully explain her sample of rescuers. Whilst some did it for money, most experienced some financial hardship for their efforts. Rescuers would more often hide Jews who were complete strangers than past friends. Whilst intellectuals were over-represented in her sample, the Polish peasants were as likely to help as those with more education. Committed Catholics often took in Jewish children who were converted to Christianity partially to help them survive. Even some anti-semitic Poles risked their lives, as this was seen as an act worthy of defiance against German occupation.
Her analysis suggests ‘individuality’ or separateness, independence and self-reliance, and a commitment or duty to help the needy that existed before the war as key characteristics that cut-across other sociodemographic factors. A classic example of such a figure was the Dutch underground fighter Joop Westerweel. He was a Christian anarchist, a pacifist, a teacher and a fighter for social causes. He and his wife joined the underground movement and smuggled Jews across the border into France and then Spain. He was arrested in 1944 as he tried to help two Jewish girls. Whilst a prisoner, he wrote the following ‘... I am a very ordinary person so please don't idealise me .... If my fate is doomed, I shall go as a man ...’ (cited in reference 4) He was executed at Vught concentration camp in August 1944.
Such brave individuals not only rejected institutional racism but actively resisted it. Whether this should be classified as an example of linking or bonding capital is something of a semantic issue. What is more clear is that these exceptional individuals, regardless of the imbalance of power, did not see their fellow citizens as Jews but as human beings who needed their help.
Declaration of interest: Z.B.-S. is a holocaust survivor. At the age of 14, he survived local Nazi massacres of Jews in his home town and lived in the ghetto until 1942. After this time he and his father, a local doctor, went into hiding with the help of non-Jews until early 1943. After that time they lived in the Carpathian mountains until they were liberated by the Soviet army in 1944.
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1 Tammes P. Survival of Dutch Jews during the holocaust: the importance of different types of social resources. Int J Epidemiol (2007).
2 Szreter S, Woolcock M. Health by association? Social capital, social theory and the political economy of public health. Int J Epidemiol (2004) 33:650–67.
3 Gilbert M. The righteous. In: The Unsung Heroes of the Holocaust (2002) London, UK: Double Day Publishing.
4 Krieger N. Theories for social epidemiology in the 21st century: an ecosocial perspective. Int J Epidemiol (2001) 30:668–77.
5 Nechama T. When Light Pierced the Darkness. Christian Rescue of Jews in Nazi-occupied Poland (1986) New York: Oxford University Press.
6 Susser M, Susser E. Choosing a future for epidemiology: II. From black box to Chinese boxes and eco-epidemiology. Am J Pub Health (1996) 86:674–77.
7 Ben-Shlomo Y, Kuh D. A life course approach to chronic disease epidemiology: conceptual models, empirical challenges and interdisciplinary perspectives. Int J Epidemiol (2002) 31:285–93.
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