The Act of Leaving

Charlie Burton reflects on his visit to Poland with Year Course, delving into the notion of the act of leaving in our Jewish history.

The act of leaving is something unimaginably powerful and inextricably Jewish. This is a thought that came to me as I departed the Zyblatowska Gora mass graves, the site in Poland where the Nazis executed the Jewish community of Tarnow, ending the centuries of Jewish settlement in this majority-Jewish city. In truth, the thought has been nagging at me for the past few days, from the Jewish ghettoes of Warsaw and Lublin to the concentration camp of Majdanek, stalking me as I survey the last remnants of a now non-existent Jewish community.

Going to Poland for a second time was not something I had ever really anticipated. I felt as though my first visit was so taxing emotionally that it would be self-destructive and irresponsible for me to visit again. But here I am.

My second trip has been very difficult, but it has also allowed me to consider my emotions more thoroughly, coming to a number of new revelations, the most significant of which, thus far, was regarding the act of leaving.

Throughout the history of the Jews, leaving has been a key component, whether of our own accord or after having been forced to leave. From the Exodus in the Land of Egypt to Amy Winehouse’s refusal to leave to rehab, the choice - or lack thereof - between leaving and staying has been a constant in the Jewish experience for the last three millennia.

The Roman banishment of the Jews from Israel comes to mind as a key moment when Jews were forced to leave, leading to 2000 years in exile. During this time, they were continually forcefully relocated, exiled and imprisoned across Europe. And despite it all, despite inquisitions, repossessions and expulsions, we survived.

And then came the Holocaust, where we were prevented from leaving mainland Europe to safety, prevented from leaving ghettos to relative freedom, prevented from leaving concentration camps to survive. As such, being in Poland of my own accord, a country where around half of the victims of the Holocaust came from, is quite a jarring feeling. However, the greatest privilege of my life is the fact that I am here today, to learn and, in turn, educate others about their lives and deaths.

The subject of leaving, in the context of my trip to Poland, is something I have struggled with. Why is it that we get to leave these sites by choice, where the gravest atrocities to befall the Jewish people occurred, when so many of our brothers and sisters never could? It’s not an easy subject to grapple with, but it is an important one. Jews now have power in the modern world and the fact that we can wield that for good is our most important safeguard against events like the Holocaust occurring again. The fact that we can leave of our own accord is the most powerful symbol of modern Jewish power and agency.

Across the world, Jews have exercised our relatively new power for good. From extraditing Jews in danger in Ethiopia to offering aid and assistance to disaster-struck nations across the world, the Jewish state has been a vehicle for Jews to fight for equality for all.

So, in 4 days I will depart Poland to return to Israel; I will embark upon a journey that so many of our ancestors never had the privilege to undertake - to leave the land where Jews were most egregiously stripped of our agency to return, of my own free will, to the nation where Jews can finally exercise our power and autonomy. That will be a great privilege.