A few days ago, I told a cousin in Iran that our publication, iranwire.com, would publish Anne Frank’s authorised biography in Persian for the first time. “Who’s Annie Frank?” he asked. The only thing he knew about the Holocaust was that Iranian leaders regularly denied it happened.
Another elderly relative living in the UK for the past three decades recently told me he couldn’t believe six million Jews had died in the Holocaust because “it’s just impossible to gas so many people in a few years”. I had to explain to him about the death marches, the Einsatzgruppen mobile killing squads and ghettos, the forced labour camps — and the basic fact that not all six million Jewish victims were murdered in gas chambers. He was open-minded about it and asked me for a few articles in Persian to read because “his English is not just good enough”.
My relatives are not uneducated bigots. The one back home in Iran is an engineer, and the older one in the UK is a retired lawyer. But neither of them has access to reliable, correct information about the Holocaust in their own language.
The Anti-Defamation League’s Global 100 poll found that in 2019, one quarter of respondents globally harboured anti-Jewish sentiment, rising to 74 per cent in the Middle East. The lack of education in many languages contribute to antisemitism and Holocaust denial among many people around the world, and in this country, too. The same poll indicated that 33 per cent of people in the UK thought Jews were more loyal to Israel than Britain. Eighteen per cent per cent thought the Jews talked too much about the Holocaust. The survey didn’t indicate the background and ethnicity of those who replied.
As a refugee to this country, I’m concerned that a large segment of the population is ignored by the government and organisations in charge of teaching the Holocaust and antisemitism here. Officials and civil society groups seem not to realise that many foreign-born residents speak English as a second language. Like my relative, when it comes to complex matters such as the Holocaust or racism, the only material available is in their primary language. Alas, much of that is rife with false information and spin.
Asylum seekers and refugees are particularly vulnerable to disinformation. When they arrive, they must wait for months or years to settle. During that period, local governments or organisations provide them with English lessons or, if they’re lucky, they’ll learn some applicable skills. But they rarely learn about subjects such as antisemitism, Islamophobia or homophobia.
I remember the first few years after I left Iran as a refugee, aged 19. I was traumatised by brutalities and the last thing I wanted to hear would have been the tragic stories of other people. Even though I’d escaped from the Iranian regime, much of what I knew about the world came from Iranian schooling and media. I had psychological wounds but also many questions and misconceptions that needed to be addressed. Fortunately, I could speak English and resettled relatively quickly. This is not the case for most refugees.
The first months and years are the most critical and volatile periods in the lives of a refugee, especially the young. Confronted with a strange new land where the customs and values are different, they review their lives and try to fit in. Understanding the values of their new homes can help them.
On the other hand, a lack of appreciation of the values of their new countries can result in alienation, resentment and, even violence. Holocaust education can be done delicately and with care. Learning about other people’s history and narratives can help young newcomers gain independence of thought and help them in their future studies, careers, and social relations. The government and civil society have a duty to provide guidance during this delicate period. Otherwise, they can resort to the overly simple and extremist explanations available in their language.
A few years ago, I decided to launch a news organisation called IranWire, and forged a partnership with the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM). They have a strikingly forward-thinking, inclusive approach to Holocaust education. We have produced several videos and articles about the Holocaust in Persian and Arabic, mainly for Iranians inside the country. Some has been shared by groups working with immigrant communities across Europe. Our collaboration with USHMM is called the Sardari Project, named after Abdolhossein Sardari, an Iranian Muslim diplomat in Paris who saved hundreds of Jews during World War II. IranWire and the Sardari Project attempt to combat the Islamic Republic’s hate propaganda.
This isn’t only about the right of the Jewish people to live in peace and security. It’s a humanitarian issue. Billions of people are growing up not understanding the world they live in. Not only does that stunt their trajectories, but in a state of oblivion, history can and does repeat itself. Fast.
Maziar Bahari is an award-winning journalist and filmmaker based in London. In 2020, he received the Elie Wiesel Award @maziarbahari
