The Jerusalem Post - The Jerusalem Post Magazine
Insiders/outsiders
This column was meant to evoke cultured spaces in verdant England, where a stroll round hushed art galleries ends with a nice cuppa tea, served by a waitress who calls you “luv.” I planned to describe a day, so long ago now, when a beautiful long-haired girl sat down next to me on our first day in a Hebrew University classroom on Mount Scopus. British-born Monica Bohm-Duchen, daughter of two refugees from Nazi Europe, went on to become an acclaimed art historian in London; for the past year she has been the director of a year-long nationwide arts festival in the United Kingdom on the influence that refugees from the Nazis, (mostly Jewish, but not exclusively), had on every aspect of British cultural life – art, music, architecture, photography and more. Her mother, Dorothy Bohm, now 95, is a well-known photographer; the spark for the festival came from BohmDuchen’s wish to honor her mom’s contribution.
But then, just days after I returned from London – in those dreamlike days when we popped onto planes and flew off for a few days of non-self-isolation in a foreign capital – an email plopped into my Inbox. Omad Shakur, a Sudanese ex-student of mine, was inviting me to “Illegal Human Being” – a compilation of experiences that African refugees live each day; it’s not a pretty sight. The title references Elie Wiesel’s assertion that no matter what a person looks like or believes, there is no such thing as an illegal human being.
In a trendy theater in the backstreets of south Tel Aviv, a cast of “illegals” and native Israelis punch out the sights and sounds of living on the edge, never knowing when you’ll be picked up by police and thrown out. Israelis are depicted as either callous or bleeding heart liberals. In one scene, a lovely young couple simply looks through a refugee waiting on their table, they keep calling the manager for service. Blacks are invisible to the privileged, eating their foie gras and calvados. One of the scenes was set in my Interdisciplinary Center Herzliya classroom, though I’d morphed into an economics professor. Omad shared his harrowing story with the audience as he had with my students: as a four-year old he was viciously beaten each morning by Muslim conquerors in his small village school; despite the best efforts of his older sister, he could not remember that he was now called Hassan. “Omad,” the trembling little boy would answer, to the fierce imam’s “What’s your name?” And whoosh, the whip would come down.
The show, one of three performances created in the Holot facility where asylum seekers were imprisoned for a period from early 2014, began as a cinematic theatrical collaboration between filmmaker Avi Mugrabi, and Dr. Chen Alon of the TAU Theatre Arts Department to stage the searing pain of refugee testimonies.
I came home to my comfortable clean couches in a warm, tidy living room, to my fridge full of imported cheeses and chocolates, and I wondered how I’d feel if hundreds of African refugees moved into Kfar Saba. And I thought of my own grandparents, European refugees in Africa themselves, and how they had flourished and put down roots and nourished their adopted country in countless ways.
WHICH BRINGS me back to Bohm-Duchen’s “Insiders/ Outsiders” Festival. Some 80 years ago, innovative cosmopolitan artists, writers, musicians, doctors, scientists and more packed up what they could from their homes in Vienna, Berlin, and other European cities, and set sail for England and safety. We know how the script ended; the refugees who were lucky enough to be allowed into Britain in the 1930s, (and a far smaller number of those who came as Holocaust survivors after 1945), poured their energy into remembering, preserving and paving a better tomorrow. The festival celebrating their contribution focused on multiple fields: the Fashion Revolution, for example, spearheaded by escaping Berlin industrialists whose businesses had been ‘Aryanized.’
The cornucopia of cultural gems included a conference on “Cambridge: City of Scholars, City of Refuge,” focusing on how the university town became a sanctuary for persecuted European academics between 1933 and 1945. In another event, the violins of a renowned father/daughter duo were on show – Arnold Rose fled to England but his daughter, Alma, was incarcerated in Auschwitz, where she led the women’s orchestra and saved many women’s lives before perishing there. Audiences watched a screening of Animal Farm by acclaimed Hungarian-born animators John Halas, in partnership with his British-born wife Joy Batchelor, or visited an ambitious group exhibition entitled “Refuge and Renewal: Migration and British Art.”
Some of the more than 150 events celebrated little-known innovators like Karl Koenig, the refugee doctor who pioneered one of the greatest social experiments of the 20th century with care homes that spread a healing aesthetic of social care for marginalized people and embraced the transformative role of art in holistic community building. From the National Museum of Edinburgh in Scotland, to magical-sounding Machynlleth in Wales, as well as a multitude of venues in London and throughout the UK, the festival reminded Jews, and introduced to others, the remarkable contribution of refugees to Britain in every possible way.
Bohm-Duchen admits that the impetus for the project was unashamedly personal: her refugee parents had nothing but good to say of the country that had taken them in. Her father, Louis Bohm, became a scientist and entrepreneur, and a leader in the development of synthetic fibers; her mother co-founded the pioneering Photographers’ Gallery in London. Despite Britain’s patchy record of admitting refugees in those terrible times, both Louis and his wife never forgot how England had saved them from the certain death that awaited much of their families.
Today, with refugees flooding in to so many countries, and often being stopped; with the lessons of World War II 80 years in the past, with antisemitism flaring up again, this accolade to a refugee legacy is particularly poignant. Officially, the festival wound up at the end of March; plans are underway for follow-ups. The website is still up and running – see below. With corona ravishing the economy and charities being squeezed, it is more relevant than ever to remember that no matter how comfortable we might be now, once we were all refugees.
I came home to my fridge full of imported cheeses and chocolates, wondering how I’d feel if hundreds of African refugees moved into Kfar Saba