Holocaust Education Week

In 1938, without ever having fired a shot, Hitler’s Germany annexed Austria. “Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Führer” was the slogan of the largely enthusiastic Austrians. By 1939, 79 percent of Austrian Jews had fled, seeking refuge anywhere in the world that would take them in. But those countries were too few and too late for them and millions like them.

A documentary telling the little known story of how Venezuela saved hundreds of Austrian and German Jews from certain death was shown as part of Holocaust Education Week.

“The first action roundup,” says one of the survivors in the film, “was cleaning the streets. They (the Nazis) made us go on our hands and knees. Neighbours that had been polite and friendly before, hurled abuse and garbage at us.”

“All borders were closed,” said another. “We felt like we were in a cage.”

But two cruise ships, the Koenigstein and the Caribia, sailing to the Caribbean and the Guyanas, offered a glimmering of hope.

For $180 per permit, 252 set sail. Those that remained in Austria, went to Dachau and Buchenwald concentration and death camps.

But in Barbados their permits were cancelled by the British governor and they were not allowed to disembark. Tobago, Trinidad—every port was closed to them. The British colonial authorities would not allow them to land. “Some of us had family and friends in Trinidad,” said one man in the documentary. “They were rounded up and taken to the police station so they would not be able to come to the boat. Police surrounded us as though we were thieves.”

Finally, they reached Venezuela.

“It is a heartbreaking story with a happy ending,” said Dr. Lia De Merenfeld, to the audience at Temple Sinai. She is the daughter of the man responsible for saving the lives of the refugees—Isack Kohn.

In 1927, Isack Kohn immigrated to Venezuela from Bukovina and opened an optical store. He served as the first president of the Unión Israelita de Caracas, founded B’nai Brith and established a Jewish school there. When he was alerted to the plight of the ships and the refugees, he, with a handful of friends, began to work quickly to exert public pressure on the authorities to gain legal entrée.

The Caribia arrived in February of 1939, and with no lights there was a problem landing. Truck drivers gathered at the port and beamed their lights at the boat to light to way. People, Jews and non-Jews, bought food, to the dock.

But the Koenigstein, a month later, was stalled from disembarking. The captain, unable to wait longer than two days, told them he would have to return them to Germany if they could not disembark in Venezuela. Desperate and scared, they decided to make a hunger strike and called in journalists from every newspaper. Some talked about jumping and killing themselves if they were forced to return to Germany.

“My father, went aboard to prevent this, even though he suffered from an inner ear disorder that made him dizzy on any moving object,” said Merenfeld.

By the word had gotten to President Eleazar López Contreras. He welcomed the destitute refugees “with open arms.” With him, Venezuela entered democracy after a history of despotism,” she explained. “He was a great humanitarianism.”

In the documentary, called Ships of Hope, his daughter praised the Jewish contribution to Venezuela, socially, economically and culturally.

“We were received with open arms by the Venezuelans,” said one man who had been a child at this time. “We were given the same opportunities as the Venezuelan kids.” He is now an engineer and lectures at the University without payment “to give back.”

Merenfeld and other Jewish Venezuelans attested to the fact that anti-Semitism was virtually non existent.

“I was born and brought up in Caracas,” said Nelly Singer, a biologist who is now in Toronto. “I never saw it (anti-Semitism). I never felt it.”

But with Chávez, who they all call “meshugah, crazy” in power, it’s a different story today, they said. “With the lower classes you now hear things like “go back to Israel” and anti-Jewish name calling.” And Jews are afraid. Once Venezuela had a Jewish population of 30,000, mostly living in Caracas. Merenfeld said thousands have left.

Last week, the government announced that Israelis are not allowed to obtain a travel visa to go to Venezuela.

Clearly upset, some with tears, the Venezuelan Jews in the audience, lamented the country they loved. But they see no future for the Jewish people in Venezuela with Chávez in power and they expect it to get worse.