Day two of my escapades in Sachsen-Anhalt.
After leaving Gröbzig and returning to Halle, I had plans to meet up with a friend. Actually, this is the same woman I was fortunate enough to befriend on the train from Italy back to Berlin - I may have looked her up online and emailed her (is that creepy?). In any case, it was great to see her again. Then it was off to Magdeburg, the second largest city in Sachsen-Anhalt, where I stayed in a hostel for the night before setting off for Haldensleben in the morning. Sachsen-Anhalt, by the way, feels humongous, since it takes me HOURS to get from one of these little towns to another.
This may be a good moment to interject and explain that almost all of my sites (of which there are 15 at the moment) are in small towns or villages (Centrum Judaicum and Erfurt being the main exceptions). The reason for this is that many of these buildings survived 1938, because they were no longer synagogues. The Jewish communities, thanks to the industrial revolution, left a lot of smaller towns and villages in the end of the 19th and early 20th centuries for bigger cities. This was often the case for Eastern European Jews, like my ancestors as well. Opportunities for better employment were available in places like Berlin, Warsaw, New York (and even Baltimore) that couldn´t be imagined in a Gröbzig or a Haldensleben.
That being said, Haldensleben is much larger than Gröbzig at a whopping 19,000. It is the first place I have been in Germany where I have seen blatant antisemitic graffiti and swastikas in plain view.
I was to meet with the director of the Haldensleben city museum who also oversees the synagogue. Thanks to a tourist map outside the train station, I made my way to the museum, and was greeted by Herr Hauer. We decided that before we talked too much, he would show me the synagogue a short walk away. On the walk over I told him a bit more about my project - historic synagogues, former East Germany, open to the public - he stopped me.
Well, ours isn´t exactly open, he explained. We´d like it to be. But it just hasn´t worked out yet.
The Haldensleben synagogue is known today as Das Haus der anderen Nachbarn, "The House of the Other Neighbors". It was built in 1822 - far enough into the emancipation process of the Jews in Germany to have a spot on a main street rather than in a protected court yard. And, to be honest, it doesn´t really look like a "typical" synagogue. It has gothic style windows. In the middle ages Jewish structures were just about as likely to be gothic style as non Jewish buildings, but the neo gothic architecture of the 19th century was pretty much only popular among Christians. An extremely visible Jewish structure in the 1820s built in a very non Jewish style, could tell a lot about how integrated the Jews of Haldensleben were with their non Jewish community.
By 1907 there were only 3 Jews left in the town, so the synagogue was sold to the Neoapostolischer Church, which occupied the building until 2002, when they decided to move to a larger building. That was when Herr Hauer and others became concerned that something would happen to this historic building, and so, in the hopes to preserve the building, the idea of the House of the other Neighbors was hatched.
The idea was that here was a building that had belonged to two religious minorities in Germany and had been freely sold or given over by each group without pressure of unfriendly governments or neighbors. Here was a building that had not been touched by the horrors of the Second World War. Here was a building that could teach tolerance... period.
It was a beautiful idea, and the local governments agreed. The House of the other Neighbors was funded, restored, and reopened in April 2007. Outside it is pink with those distinctive gothic windows, inside it is painted light yellow. There are outlines of where various religious furniture (arks and pulpits) were located when the building was a synagogue or church. There are models of the building during each time period (the synagogue faced east, the church faced west, the synagogue had a women´s balcony, the church did not). The second floor, for purposes of architectural historical accuracy, once again exists where the women´s gallery once was. Mostly the room is filled with folding chairs and wooden chests where, Hauer explains, each religion or minority group that lives in Sachsen-Anhalt can fill a chest with information, important objects, etc. Groups can come and learn about diversity in an historic space.
"Great", I said. "How is it going?"
"It´s not." He replied. For one thing, none of the groups they have called on to help fill the chests seem to get it. The various churches, when they have filled boxes, have filled them only with paperback bibles and information about how to convert. Most of the chests are empty. One group suggested that only Judaism and Christianity be explained, since the building was only ever a synagogue and a church (aka they would be willing to discuss Islam or Buddhism or Shintoism, etc only in the case that the building had at one point been a mosque or a temple, etc). "They missed the point. It has only been 4 years, but so far they all have missed the point", Hauer said.
At a very very basic level, Hauer achieved his goal. The building was saved. If you aren´t occupied with this type of work, saving a building might be a difficult concept to wrap your head around. But, saving the building is almost always goal no. 1. Call them Buildings of Dreams - If you restore them, they will come. Or at least, that is what we in this business, so to speak, like to think. If only the roof didn´t leak and the decorations were historically accurate. If the walls were sturdy and the electricity were up to code...
Hauer has just that. The building is beautiful. Beautiful and empty. He has taken to enticing school groups with free educational space and tour groups with free bathrooms. The house of the free bathrooms.
Having seen the swastikas across from the train station, I asked, "Aside from a lack on interest, have you had any negative responses?"
He explains. Like most places in the GDR, no one really knew there was a synagogue here. That is was given over to the church already in 1907, no one really remembered there being a Jewish community here. Just before we reopened the synagogue, I published a piece spreading the word in the community about the historical presence of the Jewish community and the synagogue. Just after that someone through a bottle through the window. It made a mark in the wall, which as you can see, I left. Historical evidence of the first and only recorded evidence of antisemitic acts directed at the synagogue in Haldensleben, 100 years after it ceased to be a synagogue.
And what about Jewish tourists? Do people ever call up asking to see the synagogue? Are there families of Haldensleben Jews who have sought it out? Do people ever just pass through and want to know about Jewish life here??
He told me, "You are the first."
After leaving Gröbzig and returning to Halle, I had plans to meet up with a friend. Actually, this is the same woman I was fortunate enough to befriend on the train from Italy back to Berlin - I may have looked her up online and emailed her (is that creepy?). In any case, it was great to see her again. Then it was off to Magdeburg, the second largest city in Sachsen-Anhalt, where I stayed in a hostel for the night before setting off for Haldensleben in the morning. Sachsen-Anhalt, by the way, feels humongous, since it takes me HOURS to get from one of these little towns to another.
This may be a good moment to interject and explain that almost all of my sites (of which there are 15 at the moment) are in small towns or villages (Centrum Judaicum and Erfurt being the main exceptions). The reason for this is that many of these buildings survived 1938, because they were no longer synagogues. The Jewish communities, thanks to the industrial revolution, left a lot of smaller towns and villages in the end of the 19th and early 20th centuries for bigger cities. This was often the case for Eastern European Jews, like my ancestors as well. Opportunities for better employment were available in places like Berlin, Warsaw, New York (and even Baltimore) that couldn´t be imagined in a Gröbzig or a Haldensleben.
That being said, Haldensleben is much larger than Gröbzig at a whopping 19,000. It is the first place I have been in Germany where I have seen blatant antisemitic graffiti and swastikas in plain view.
I was to meet with the director of the Haldensleben city museum who also oversees the synagogue. Thanks to a tourist map outside the train station, I made my way to the museum, and was greeted by Herr Hauer. We decided that before we talked too much, he would show me the synagogue a short walk away. On the walk over I told him a bit more about my project - historic synagogues, former East Germany, open to the public - he stopped me.
Well, ours isn´t exactly open, he explained. We´d like it to be. But it just hasn´t worked out yet.
The Haldensleben synagogue is known today as Das Haus der anderen Nachbarn, "The House of the Other Neighbors". It was built in 1822 - far enough into the emancipation process of the Jews in Germany to have a spot on a main street rather than in a protected court yard. And, to be honest, it doesn´t really look like a "typical" synagogue. It has gothic style windows. In the middle ages Jewish structures were just about as likely to be gothic style as non Jewish buildings, but the neo gothic architecture of the 19th century was pretty much only popular among Christians. An extremely visible Jewish structure in the 1820s built in a very non Jewish style, could tell a lot about how integrated the Jews of Haldensleben were with their non Jewish community.
By 1907 there were only 3 Jews left in the town, so the synagogue was sold to the Neoapostolischer Church, which occupied the building until 2002, when they decided to move to a larger building. That was when Herr Hauer and others became concerned that something would happen to this historic building, and so, in the hopes to preserve the building, the idea of the House of the other Neighbors was hatched.
The idea was that here was a building that had belonged to two religious minorities in Germany and had been freely sold or given over by each group without pressure of unfriendly governments or neighbors. Here was a building that had not been touched by the horrors of the Second World War. Here was a building that could teach tolerance... period.
It was a beautiful idea, and the local governments agreed. The House of the other Neighbors was funded, restored, and reopened in April 2007. Outside it is pink with those distinctive gothic windows, inside it is painted light yellow. There are outlines of where various religious furniture (arks and pulpits) were located when the building was a synagogue or church. There are models of the building during each time period (the synagogue faced east, the church faced west, the synagogue had a women´s balcony, the church did not). The second floor, for purposes of architectural historical accuracy, once again exists where the women´s gallery once was. Mostly the room is filled with folding chairs and wooden chests where, Hauer explains, each religion or minority group that lives in Sachsen-Anhalt can fill a chest with information, important objects, etc. Groups can come and learn about diversity in an historic space.
"Great", I said. "How is it going?"
"It´s not." He replied. For one thing, none of the groups they have called on to help fill the chests seem to get it. The various churches, when they have filled boxes, have filled them only with paperback bibles and information about how to convert. Most of the chests are empty. One group suggested that only Judaism and Christianity be explained, since the building was only ever a synagogue and a church (aka they would be willing to discuss Islam or Buddhism or Shintoism, etc only in the case that the building had at one point been a mosque or a temple, etc). "They missed the point. It has only been 4 years, but so far they all have missed the point", Hauer said.
At a very very basic level, Hauer achieved his goal. The building was saved. If you aren´t occupied with this type of work, saving a building might be a difficult concept to wrap your head around. But, saving the building is almost always goal no. 1. Call them Buildings of Dreams - If you restore them, they will come. Or at least, that is what we in this business, so to speak, like to think. If only the roof didn´t leak and the decorations were historically accurate. If the walls were sturdy and the electricity were up to code...
Hauer has just that. The building is beautiful. Beautiful and empty. He has taken to enticing school groups with free educational space and tour groups with free bathrooms. The house of the free bathrooms.
Having seen the swastikas across from the train station, I asked, "Aside from a lack on interest, have you had any negative responses?"
He explains. Like most places in the GDR, no one really knew there was a synagogue here. That is was given over to the church already in 1907, no one really remembered there being a Jewish community here. Just before we reopened the synagogue, I published a piece spreading the word in the community about the historical presence of the Jewish community and the synagogue. Just after that someone through a bottle through the window. It made a mark in the wall, which as you can see, I left. Historical evidence of the first and only recorded evidence of antisemitic acts directed at the synagogue in Haldensleben, 100 years after it ceased to be a synagogue.
And what about Jewish tourists? Do people ever call up asking to see the synagogue? Are there families of Haldensleben Jews who have sought it out? Do people ever just pass through and want to know about Jewish life here??
He told me, "You are the first."
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