Never could I have anticipated the horror of seeing the camp in color. I expected Auschwitz-Birkenau to be a cold and dreary place – an image I fashioned based on years of only seeing haunting black and white images. So imagine my shock when I passed through the infamous gate and underneath the words “Arbeit Macht Frei,” meaning, “Work Sets You Free.” Before me I saw lawns of green grass shimmering in the sunlight, well-groomed trees and red brick buildings lined in an ascetically pleasing row. It was disturbingly pretty – a thought that chilled me to the bones. The bizarre view gave me new insight into how the first deported prisoners who walked through the same gate could have been unaware of their unspeakable fate.
As we walked through the same gate that all prisoners of Auschwitz passed through I was startled to see the camp in color, shattering my back and white expectation.
However civilized the camp appeared, it couldn’t disguise the horrors that happened there. I felt almost ghostly as I walked up the road, around Block 11 towards the Black Wall and into the gas chambers. I moved at a soundless, sickened pace knowing that I was walking a route that to millions was the daily monotony of a living hell. I have never been so ashamed to be a human being, to be one of a race so susceptible to evil and capable of destruction.
The previous day we visited the Schindler Museum dedicated to Oscar Schindler, a factory owner who saved over one thousand Jewish lives during the Holocaust. For me, the biggest take-away from this site was the ambiguity that surrounded Schindler’s transition from being a businessman benefiting from the exploitation of inexpensive Jewish laborers to an altruistic guardian. Oscar Schindler, like many others during this time, was an opportunist who bought a factory taken from its previous Jewish owners and quickly began to profit. Although he exploited them, Schindler protected his employees from being deported through his connections within the Nazi Party. After our visit, Professor Davidson posed the question as to why this change of heart. I argued that humans are much more willing to exploit and enslave other humans than to exterminate them. The nature of Schindler’s actions suggests that his turning point was the knowledge that exploitation had become genocide. Once it was clear that the Nazis were not merely “relocating” the Jews, Schindler sheltered those he employed from the trains, fed them hearty meals and helped to preserve their humanity.
Humans have historically enslaved each other for racist and economic purposes – the United States is not an exception. Although the Confederacy was fundamentally racist, slavery was equally needed to maintain the region’s agricultural production at an inexpensive rate. In the Nazis’ case, their impulses were deeply racist with additional economic benefits. The prisoners of the concentration camps provided them with free labor, valuable items that were brought with them, and the opportunity for scientific experimentation. But ultimately, the camps were the means for the Final Solution to the Jewish Question. Though the human rights of African Americans were thoroughly violated by slave-owners, racism did not lead to the same horrors performed in the concentration camps. However, our nation’s past is one of many examples of human willingness to exploit others for profit and/or out of prejudice.
The appalling acceptance of slavery and exploitation is not one of the past. Slavery continues to be a global issue in the forms of human trafficking, child labor, sweatshops, and in many other forms – yet we claim to “remember the past so that we don’t make the same mistakes.” Although slavery is now illegal in the United States, capitalistic endeavors to be competitive have led many companies to relocate their factories out of the United States where production is cheaper. Labor laws in many foreign countries allow companies to exploit workers in ways that U.S. law would prevent – a situation that many U.S. companies have taken advantage of to lower expenses. Often times these workers are women and children working long hours for a horrendously small wage in poor working conditions. Still Americans don’t seem to mind. By relocating production, consumers are able purchase their items at a lower price and have an endless supply of choices. Although this particular form of exploitation is not racist, it is powered by greed and profit.
It would be hypocritical to say I’m not a part of this problem – in fact I’m wearing Nike shoes and the Ohio State “Undisputed National Champs” t-shirt produced by Nike as I write this critical piece. My generation’s obsession with labels and need for instant gratification has only perpetuated the problem. As I currently stare at my shoes, I’m overcome with both guilt and hope. I’m ashamed of the swoosh on the sides and what it means for those who produced them, but as I notice the dust kicked up from walking along the train tracks at Birkenau and down the roads of Auschwitz I, I am hopeful. I’m hopeful because after studying the evils of the Holocaust and then making the trip to Auschwitz-Birkenau, I see in color. An unforgettable color image that will always remind me how easily desensitized we are to atrocities and hardship forced upon others.
Leaving the camp, I shared my shock at seeing the camp in color with my friend Bethany. She shared a similar sentiment, except with her own twist. In her mind, it was striking to see Auschwitz in color because it placed it in the present, whereas her previous black and white conceptions confined the evils to the past. We agreed that although the sight of the luscious green grass and red bricks were pretty, they were equally discomforting. Not only did the black and white images maintain the image that the Holocaust is something behind us, but that it couldn’t happen again. However, seeing the site in person – set up in the same manner, like it could have been functional yesterday – I now know that that is certainly not true. Exploitation, slavery and genocide exist today and I fear that we haven’t learned our lesson.