“Racism is man's gravest threat to

man--the maximum of hatred

for a minimum of reason.”

-Abraham Joshua Heschel

In the 21st century, when I talk with someone about the Second World War, or about any other the horrors and tragedies that have fallen to so many people, the most of the people usually say to me: "Well, it was in the last century ..." And then they start praising the new century as an era of unprecedented progress and social tranquility. It was always like this: at the time of transition from one century to another, when our ugly arrogance rushes into the future so quickly, as if changes in the calendar protected us from ourselves, somehow improving human nature.

We try to forget our past, especially those moments when a significant part of mankind demonstrated its worst qualities, ruthlessly and subtly destroying others. These “others” could be people of a different race or nation, compatriots who profess a different faith or other political views. Or, in general, innocent people who simply fell under the sword of historical necessity.

It is clear that humanity wants to preserve a good memory of itself for future generations. But the real future can only be built on the real past. Primo Levy's book, completed in January 1947, two years after he left Auschwitz - is written not about the laws of the past and the future, but about the problems of human existence: in the face of life and in the face of death. Speaking more precisely - about limits in which a person retains his individuality, and the boundary between biological and spiritual existence. He reflects on the person who got into such proposed circumstances that were created not just to destroy a person as a biological mass, but as a spiritual being.

Levi's book amazes not by the description of how people killed people- there are many stories written about it; but by scrupulous, extremely detailed, and an absolutely hopeless narrative of how people were killed in people. What did Nazi think about Death Camps?

"We approached stacks. Misha and the Galician, groaning and cursing, raised the block and put it on our shoulders. Their work is not too heavy, and in order to keep it, they had to demonstrate maximum diligence: they hurry those who are hesitating, ashame them for laziness, they are urged and set an unbearable rhythm of work for everyone. It makes me angry, but this is how life in concentration camp works: the unprivileged are urged by the privileged, the social hierarchy of the camp is built on this law. "

“Two SS men entered (one with an insignia on the uniform, probably an officer). Their footsteps sounded like a boom, like in a void. They talked about something with the chief doctor, he showed them the list, points one way, then points the other. The officer marks something in his notebook. Shmulek (my new friend) pulls my knee: - “Pass 'auf, pass' auf” (watch, watch)! An officer with an indifferent face follows the doctor along the bunks.

He stops near one patient with a yellow face, pulls the blanket off him. Patient flinches. The officer touches his stomach, says: "gut", "gut" (good), takes the next step. Then his gaze falls on Shmulek, he takes out his notebook, checks the number of bunks and the number of the tattoo. Then (I can clearly see it from above) makes a mark on the Shmulek’s number and continues his check.

The next day, they split people into two groups. The first group is being shaved and sent to the shower, the second one is led away, without a shower, without changing their bandages.No one says goodbye, everyone, even doctors and guards are silent. Shmulek also leaves with the second group. Thus, delicately, without unnecessary noise, without bitterness, the daily extermination of prisoners is being conducted in the hospital: someone is leaving today, someone is leaving tomorrow- to never come back.”

“Master Nogalla says: - Bohlen holen. Bohlen holen means taking sleepers and putting them in the mud, and then use the levers to roll the cylinder through this road to the factory. But the sleepers were frozen in the ground, they weigh eighty kilograms each, carrying them - is a torture, not a work. Only the healthiest ones, working together, are be able to deal with it, and even they can do only  for a two hours, no more. For me it's just torture. The first sleeper is in the snow and clay, with every step it hits my ear, and the snow is stuffed under the collar. After making fifty steps, I feel that I can not do it anymore, it is beyond human strength. Knees bend, the back hurts as if it is squeezed by a vice, and I'm afraid to stumble and fall. My shoes became soaked, dirt was squishing in them - a predatory, all-pervasive Polish dirt, which was poisoning our dreadful existence every day. I bit my lip to the bone. It is known that a small physical pain helps a person to mobilize the reserve capabilities of the body. And all guards know it as well. Among them there are real sadists who beat us simply out of cruelty.” And if you still believe, that concentration camps are not as horrible as I say, spend 2 more minutes watching this: Auschwitz Death Camp

Primo Levi's book is a message from the past to the future.

A message that must be read by contemporaries and descendants- like any other book about the death camps. They were built by people for people.These books need to be read and remembered clearly about what and why they are written.

“There are only two kinds of blood, the blood that

flows in the veins and the blood

that flows out of them”

-Julian Tuwim

Last time I was telling you about my experience reading memoirs of a Jewish soldier, a prisoner of war. But there is another book, one of the first stories about II World War I read, which had a greater impact on me- “Fateless” by Imre Kertesz.  At the age of 15 he gets imprisoned in the death camp. The perception of children differs from the perception of adults: while the adult soldier described the actual events themselves, and didn’t focus much on his emotions; the 15-year-old Imre bases his memoirs on what he felt; that is why some parts of the story seems to be somewhat vague, but much more colorful (although with a predominance of the dark colors) and appealing to readers' emotions.

“The prisoners suddenly got very curious about our age. "Vier-zehn, fiinfzehn" (fourteen to fifteen)- we answered them. They immediately shook their heads violently, expressing protest and resentment. "Zeshzain,"- I heard a whisper from everywhere, "zesh-tsain." I was surprised - and even asked one: "Warum?" (Why?). "Willst du arbeiten?" - he asked me in return, if I want to work, staring at me with his empty eyes. I said: "Naturlich", that is: of course, obviously; after all, that’s the only option I had. Then he grabbed me with his yellow, bony, hard hands over my shoulders- not just grabbed, but shook it thoroughly, repeating: "Zeszine ... ferstaist di? .. zeszcine! .." I saw he's seriously angry: for some reason, it is very important for him; and though with a little grin, I agreed: okay, let it be sixteen. There was another weird thing he said: no matter what they say, there should not be any brothers among us, and especially - here I was quite amazed - twins; and his last advice was: "Everyone has to work, otherwise- death".

Then I saw two groups ahead. On the right - a larger group, quite more diverse; on the left - smaller and somehow more pleasant to look at, and I saw there several guys from our company. People in the left group looked - at least in my eyes - suitable for work. The medical examination itself actually took about two to three seconds. Just in front of me was one of my friends, Moshkovich; however, the doctor immediately sent him in the opposite from “working group” direction, to the right. I heard how Moshkovich was trying to explain: "Arbayten ... Zekszen ..."; but soldiers forced him to go to the right, and I took his place in front of the doctor. I saw, that the doctor examined me more carefully, with a serious, attentive, estimative look. I straightened my shoulders, straightened up to show my chest, and even, I remember, smiled slightly - perhaps, to emphasize that I'm not Moshkovich. With a quiet but very clear voice, the doctor asked: "Wieviel Jahre alt bist du?(How old are you?)". "Sechszehn (Sixteen)" I said. He nodded slightly - but it seemed like I gave him the answer he expected to hear. And then, with one hand still touching my face, he pushed me to the left, across the road, to those who were recognized as suitable for work.”

Few hours later…

“And then all of us, like it or not, had to pay serious attention to the smell. It was, it was difficult for me to describe or define it: sweetish, some sticky, it contained a familiar chemical taste and something else, and all this in such a combination that I felt nausea. We quickly discovered the source of it - a pipe that could be seen on the left, quite far off the highway. It was obviously a factory trumpet, (so the headman told us), and it looked like a factory. Later, other prisoners told to us that it was a "crematorium", that is, an oven for burning corpses.

Then I looked at it more closely: it was squat, angular, with a wide hole. I can say that after learning this, I felt nothing special about it, except for some fear- well, and, of course, the smell, which simply was enveloping, was tightening like a thick sticky liquid, like a swamp. A little further, we were able to see, one more, then another and, already somewhere on the horizon, on the very edge of the shining sky, another pipe.

And after this observation, I had a more or less accurate understanding of where we were. I knew that there, in front of us, at that very moment, those who rode along with us on the train, but were sent to the right group, were burning in the stove. Those who at the station asked for a truck, those who for age or for some other reason, the doctor considered unfit for work, toddlers, and their mothers.”

Some people believe that wars and battles make people cruel. But is it so? Read a few excerpts I gave above: none of these people, including SS, doctors, and guards of the camp were on the wart, and yet their cruelty towards the prisoners is beyond the limits of my perception. It is not war that inculcates cruelty to us; it is us bringing cruelty, violence and ruthlessness into war. We respond to words with an aggression, aggression leads to a feud, feud leads to a war, war ends with the execution of prisoners, and the execution of prisoners is being responded with genocide... 71,170,000 people were sacrificed 73 years ago to break this loop, so let's not start it again. "No color or religion ever stopped the bullet from a gun."

The Absence of a Certain Race in a video game VS Concentration camps

“We hate everyone equally, without distinction of race, religion and color.”
-Wall inscription

         

Nowadays, almost every third person without a SJW t-shirt on is being accused of racism: a bad joke about black color, or (what a horror!) he dared to speak out negatively about the countries of the third world. Only 73 years have passed, a tiny time period by the standards of history, but people have already forgotten what the real racism is, how does real discrimination by blood look like; they forgot that horror- instead of remembering it, they prefer making up new ones. Well, the only thing I can do is to recall those nightmares, remind people about the madness which is known as "concentration camps".

What is concentration camp?

   

Based on Mikhail Beniaminovich’s memoirs, a person, who was a prisoner in 10 Nazi concentration camps in a period from 1941 to 1945.

    "At the end of the day, all prisoners were cleaning shovels and pickaxes. The SS soldiers stood near and watched them.  Mikhail cleaned the shovel and ran to put it in the barn, so then he could return to a formation.  He tried to do it quickly, to avoid any attention from the Commandenfuhrer. But he did not succeed. The SS man ordered: "Stop!". He immediately stopped, holding a shovel in his hands. He looked at him and said: "Ah, yude (Jew)?".

    The SS man forced Mikhail to clean the shovel again, ordered him to stand in front of the building and began the interrogation in front of the formation: "Doo bust yude(Are you Jew)?". There is only one possible answer, if you want to stay alive - no. He asks the SS security guards who were standing near by them : "What do you think guys, is he a Jew, or not?". Everyone laughed, taking this as a joke, and did not answer. Then the Commandenfuhrer said: "Wait, I know a great way to find out whether he is a Jew or not!".

    Prisoner was taken to the barn where the instrument was stored, and was ordered to lie down across the bench. Kapo handed the SS soldier a shovel, and he began to beat Mikhail’s back. Pain was unbearable- hunger weakened his body, and even the slightest blow caused an explosion of pain. SS man was beating him until the shovel broke down into two parts. Then they told Mikhail to stand up, get out of the barn and return to the formation. Prisoner left, staggering from side to side, barely holding on to his feet. Then the SS man hit him with the his heavy, military boot in the chest; I fell in the mud, but somehow was able to rise and get in the line. Other prisoners stood in silence, and the SS men watched and laughed.

    After that, the guards took their places, and prisoners moved towards the camp. Mikhail writes: “I have no idea, how I made it to the camp. I just kept telling myself that it's necessary to go and go without any stop- this is my only salvation.”

Do you still think that picture of an african american boy wearing “The coolest monkey in the jungles” t-shirt is worse than, or can be compared with THAT?

Incredibly hard work and lack of food was exhausting. The prisoners became very skinny, barely moved and did not look like normal people. Eight people were forced to carry rails, 20 meters each, and bring it to a railway track.

                                                            
                                                               "Rise Of Evil", Sabaton

From exhausting deadly labor, daily beatings, and starvation the number of prisoners was decreasing every day. The sick ones were dying, the weak ones were killed. The cases of suicides became more frequent: prisoners were taking a high-current barbwire with their bare hands. The 16th and 17th barracks were emptied. Less than half of Russian prisoners was alive. Now there was a new method for their elimination.

All prisoners after work, before going to  bed, have to stay in the courtyard. When it's time to go to sleep, everyone takes off their outer clothes, pads, takes a cold shower and stands in one line to go into the bedroom. In the doorway there is a “room-chief” -another prisoner with a green or black triangle (which means he is one of the criminals or bandits), and examines everyone at the entrance. Only those who are still able to work are allowed to enter the barracks.

Those who are weaker, are not allowed to enter there; they are forced to step into the washbasin. When it was filled with people, the doors were closing and cold water was released, after which the executioners enter there and finish off everyone with sticks. Prisoners were understanding that they are being killed for not being able to work anymore, and my memory still keeps a terrible cry from the washstand: "Ich arbayte, ich arbayt!” --I will work, I will work!"... But nothing helps, nothing can save them from executioners’ cruelty."

Kingdom Come: Deliverance was repeatedly accused of racism, as the developers did not include African characters in the game. In their defense, the developers claim that in the medieval czech republic there were no immigrants from Africa, which is confirmed by history. Unfortunately, the arguments and facts did not convince fanatical human rights activists.