This chapter traces the long trajectory of Holocaust testimony from the 1940s to the present. It notes that there are different temporal registers for testimony, from accounts offered during the war to retrospective accounts offered after 1945, sometimes decades later. It notes the ways in which the testimony considered valuable expanded over time to include not just that of survivors of camps or ghettos, but also that of hidden children or Jews living in hiding with false papers. It also evolved in content, as testimony came to not just remember the dead, but also shape the living and the reconstruction of Jewish life. Even material culture has been incorporated into testimony, as artifacts from survivors have become “sacred relics” of a sort.

Jews trying to survive in Poland, on the “Aryan” side, were exposed to permanent risk of detection not so much by the Germans, but by their Polish neighbors, passers-by, officers of the “Blue” police and the ever-present szmalcovnicy (blackmailers). The behavior, cultural and religious codes, speech, aand stereotyped physical characteristics of Jews conspired to make Jewish survival so very unlikely.

This chapter establishes and problematizes the category of “survivor” and the ways in which its meaning changed over the postwar decades. The definition of survivors is “unstable,” and includes diverse groups, not just those who lived through the camps or ghettos, but also those in exile or hiding. The chapter discusses how trauma affected not just survivors, but also their children and grandchildren, in complex ways. It analyzes the ways in which the experience of the Holocaust affected family life and the intergenerational transfer of knowledge and culture, as well as the (re)construction of Jewish communal life.

This chapter offers a nuanced account of liberation, displacement, and homecoming after the Second World War. It emphasizes the ambiguity of a liberation that was not always freeing, displacement that continued wartime suffering, and a homecoming that was often bittersweet, when it was even possible. It traces the ways in which the savage history of postwar Europe led to massive population transfers, including of Jewish Holocaust survivors. It looks at “homecoming” both in western and in eastern Europe, as well as post-liberation migration out of Europe. After all, most east European Jews quickly realized they had little future in Europe, their sense of belonging shattered. The surrounding societies were often unwelcoming for returnees, reluctant to return appropriated property, and retained substantial antisemitism. If, in western Europe, Jewish survivors could, to a degree, “go home again,” this proved impossible for the most part in eastern Europe. Thus, Jewish survivors often abandoned Europe altogether, seeking new lives in Israel, the USA, and elsewhere. The political and social history of displaced persons after the war is thus both pan-European and global.

Over the course of a tumultuous ecclesiastical career, John Chrysostom (ca. 349–407) put on many hats. He was a brilliant student of rhetoric and literature under the tutelage of Libanius of Antioch; he joined Diodore of Tarsus’ ascetic circle, which counted as a member Theodore of Mopsuestia, among others; he was appointed lector in 371 and then presbyter in 381 by Meletius of Antioch; and finally he was consecrated as bishop of Constantinople after the death of Nectarius (a target of Gregory of Nazianzus’ ire in Poem 2.1.12, “On Himself and Concerning the Bishops”). It was during his time as a presbyter in Antioch that he earned his gilded reputation for preaching, which Christians in the fifth century would encapsulate with the moniker “Chrysostom,” or Golden-Mouth. His sermons were known for their power and eloquence, but also for their confrontational tenor and furious hostility toward opponents (in this case, Jews and “Judaizing” Christians). John hoped that every member of his congregation would demonstrate the same zeal that he strived to embody every day.

This chapter first turns to patterns of arrest, imprisonment, and release, then to life inside the camps, including sites of terror, and also to prisoners’ attempts at survival, self-assertion, and resistance. It examines how inmate populations changed over time and how life and death in the camps was tied to gender, age, and class as well as networks. It also compares the experiences of Jewish inmates to non-Jews in these same camps.

The Nuremberg Laws of 1935 prohibited marriage between people “of German blood” and Jews (including, in practice, “half-Jews”). So-called mixed marriages already in existence were subjected to persecutory measures. This chapter examines the fates of couples in mixed marriages and their “mixed-blood” children, both inside Germany and in Nazi-occupied Europe.

The introduction highlights the enduring impact of the Holocaust, the global reach of its legacy, and the ways it has shaped all domains of social and cultural life. Briefly tracing the changing shape of Holocaust memory and post-Holocaust politics, it is argued that the Holocaust has become a global touchstone for thinking about mass atrocity. The Holocaust has become a master metaphor for evil, which has led to it being appropriated and misappropriated for diverse contemporary political uses in ways that are often detached from the historical event itself. The introduction suggests that the various chapters in the volume trace these developments across a range of geographical spaces and cultural practices.

The Cambridge History of the Papacy is organized to provide readers with a critical–historical survey of the structural development of the papacy as an institution and as an actor in Church history, and in world history. It is hard to imagine a sphere of human activity over the past two millennia that has not been influenced by, and influenced in turn by, papal action – be it in the domains of religious belief and practice; social, cultural, and political thought; art, science, medicine, ethics, diplomacy, and international relations. Four questions – each addressed throughout the three volumes of the present work – have framed that vision across vast chronological and geographical expanses: the pope’s centrality within the Catholic Church, the primacy of papal power as an instrument of governance, the papacy’s cultural influence in society and culture, and the implications of secularity for its place in the lives of believers and non-believers alike. Each question – and the search for answers – converges around the fundamental question of papal authority: its original claims; the ebbs and flows of its effective reach; and the numerous ways in which claims, and expressions of papal authority and supremacy, have been contested within the Catholic tradition, and from without.

The Cambridge History of the Papacy is organized to provide readers with a critical–historical survey of the structural development of the papacy as an institution and as an actor in Church history, and in world history. It is hard to imagine a sphere of human activity over the past two millennia that has not been influenced by, and influenced in turn by, papal action – be it in the domains of religious belief and practice; social, cultural, and political thought; art, science, medicine, ethics, diplomacy, and international relations. Four questions – each addressed throughout the three volumes of the present work – have framed that vision across vast chronological and geographical expanses: the pope’s centrality within the Catholic Church, the primacy of papal power as an instrument of governance, the papacy’s cultural influence in society and culture, and the implications of secularity for its place in the lives of believers and non-believers alike. Each question – and the search for answers – converges around the fundamental question of papal authority: its original claims; the ebbs and flows of its effective reach; and the numerous ways in which claims, and expressions of papal authority and supremacy, have been contested within the Catholic tradition, and from without.

The Cambridge History of the Papacy is organized to provide readers with a critical–historical survey of the structural development of the papacy as an institution and as an actor in Church history, and in world history. It is hard to imagine a sphere of human activity over the past two millennia that has not been influenced by, and influenced in turn by, papal action – be it in the domains of religious belief and practice; social, cultural, and political thought; art, science, medicine, ethics, diplomacy, and international relations. Four questions – each addressed throughout the three volumes of the present work – have framed that vision across vast chronological and geographical expanses: the pope’s centrality within the Catholic Church, the primacy of papal power as an instrument of governance, the papacy’s cultural influence in society and culture, and the implications of secularity for its place in the lives of believers and non-believers alike. Each question – and the search for answers – converges around the fundamental question of papal authority: its original claims; the ebbs and flows of its effective reach; and the numerous ways in which claims, and expressions of papal authority and supremacy, have been contested within the Catholic tradition, and from without.

European history has been defined as a field by a notion of Europe – its borders, values, civilization, and nationalities – that is structured by Christianity and its secular legacies. Rather than seeking to globalize the history of Europe by considering the impact of European Christianity on other parts of the world, and how it was impacted by them, this chapter challenges that narrative. It asks how the historiography of Europe can be integrated with the historiographies of Europe’s historic non-Christian populations, namely Jews and Muslims. These are historiographies with their own rhythms, conceptual frameworks, and geographies in which Europe carries quite different connotations. They shift our attention from the north and west to the south and east, enjoining us to think differently about Europe and the diversity that has always existed within it. Separately, these historiographies speak to very different experiences. Taken together, they help us to think differently about the interface between Europe and the world and to write the history of Europe itself against the grain.

In Chapter 6, we present examples from the four different kinds of personal narratives that we conceptualized that connect to genocide and war, with this chapter focusing on the Holocaust. Our four types of personal narratives are termed: distancing, victimhood, ambivalence/paradoxes, and embracing the other while remaining in one’s pain. In this chapter, we present and analyze long quotes from narratives of Jews and (non-Jewish) Germans who are descendants of Holocaust survivors and Nazi perpetrators. Our examples come from a variety of sources – interviews that we undertook over the years with members of the first, second, and third generations, internet sources, YouTube, research books that present narrative interviews, and memoirs and autobiographies that exemplify the different kinds of narratives. This chapter, then, presents concrete examples of the different kinds of personal stories that we find in the context of speaking and/or writing about the Holocaust, mainly among the second and third generations, the children and grandchildren of the war generation.

In Chapter 7, we present examples of the four different kinds of personal narratives – distancing, victimhood, ambivalence/paradoxes, and embracing the other while remaining in one’s pain – connected to the Jewish–Arab/Israeli–Palestinian conflicts that appear to have the potential either to promote peacebuilding or to obstruct peace. We address these two connected, yet not identical, conflicts together for two main reasons. While the conflicts have differences (Arabs in Israel have citizenship and Palestinians in the Palestinian Authority/Gaza Strip do not, leading to different conflictual aspects), the dilemma is the same: should Israel be a Jewish State or a state of all of its citizens? Furthermore, when people share narratives about these conflicts, they often combine the two contexts. Thus, it would be artificial to separate them. Our examples come from different sources – interviews that we undertook over the years with Jewish-Israelis and Arabs, and Israelis and Palestinians, internet sources, research books that present narrative interviews, and memoirs and autobiographies that exemplify the different kinds of narratives. This chapter, then, presents concrete examples of the different kinds of personal stories that we find in the context of speaking and/or writing about the Israeli–Palestinian conflict.

In Chapter 8, through the presentation and analysis of our four conceptualized kinds of personal narratives of intractable war – distancing, victimhood, ambivalence/paradoxes, and embracing the other while remaining in one’s pain – we address a major issue, which has always divided Jewish-Israeli society: Arab–Jewish/Israeli–Palestinian relations. This issue tends to divide the left wing from the right wing and the secular from the religious Jewish citizens. This schism exploded in late 2022, when a very right-wing coalition was formed in the Israeli Knesset and government, which led to numerous legislative proposals that have been perceived by many as endangering Israel’s fragile democracy. This political upheaval further led to massive demonstrations and strikes that threw the country into turmoil. While this specific ideological/religious divide is mainly between Jews and Jews, it ties into the Jewish–Arab/Israeli–Palestinian conflict, as its roots connect to the question of the desired nature of the state and to the often-hostile intergroup relationships that characterize Israeli society. In this chapter, we present personal narratives connected to Jewish–Jewish relations, a very “hot” topic in Israeli society today.