When taking on a study of the mass slaughter of millions, it seems of little importance to tout the experience of one victimized group over another. Distinguishing between the Nazi holocaust for the Jews, gays, Slavs, Afro-Germans, and Roma (pejoratively known as “gypsies”), among countless other groups, would appear to many to be splitting hairs. The Nazis, as my father would say, were equal opportunity bigots.
However, this past Monday at Ryerson, York professors Marlene Kadar and Sara Horowitz brought the uniquely female holocaust experience to the table as part of the United Jewish Appeal’s Holocaust Education Week. Focusing on testimonies and anecdotes from Ravensbruck and Auschwitz concentration camps, the professors argued that female gender identity had an impact on the internment experience.
A portion of their proposal rang undeniably true, securing a place for feminism in the realm of holocaust studies. Other arguments, though, wobbled conspicuously, suggesting that the characteristically steamroller approach of feminist analysis must necessarily tread lightly in this delicate area of study.
The green light for feminist historiography of the holocaust was given, in my eyes, when the speakers presented overwhelming evidence of specifically gendered sexual abuse in the camps. Kadar’s discussion of anti-natalist racist policies explained the disturbing details of abortion for the persecuted and forced sterilization, sometimes performed on girls as young as eight years old. This “delayed genocide” numbered among other abusive manifestations, such as forced sexual labour at brothels for the benefit of SS soldiers.
Horowitz’s argument of uniquely gendered violation stemmed from her many researched accounts of pregnancy in Auschwitz. Recognizably pregnant women undoubtedly be among those first selected for extermination, and those that managed to conceal their pregnancy would often doom not only themselves, but also the other women implicated in what was seen as their “conspiracy.”
These details are certainly uniquely feminine concerns. But the feminist critique, as demonstrated in later portions of the lectures, can go too far.
As Horowitz harped on the importance and uniqueness of mother/daughter relationships in the camps, evidenced by such things as the overwhelming psychological gravity of a mother’s last dying words to her daughter, I couldn’t help but wonder if someone was going to speak of the unique nature of a father/son relationship in the same context. Similarly, Kadar’s entire presentation led up to the performance of a Roma lament. Although the song was heart-rending and weighty, she failed to argue why music would have been confined to female usage alone.
The danger of ascribing a specifically female aspect to the holocaust experience is that, since its history is so tragic, emotion often blurs with fact. Indeed, feminist critique is demanded by the history, to explore objectively female-centred issues. When subjective experiences like motherhood and music-making, which are both culturally contingent and potentially gender-neutral, enter into the critique, the flags must go up, and the dialogue of holocaust must again be brought back to the general.
