The Holocaust Survivors Are Watching

What my father, a Jewish partisan who fought the Nazis, would say to America as it slides toward fascism.

Written by Jerry Elman, October 22, 2025

This may be the most important thing I will ever write. Please share it with as many people as you can. We have to light a fire — in our hearts, in our communities, and across this nation — before it’s too late.

I never thought I’d live to see the warning signs again — the slogans, the lies, the worship of power over truth. But here we are.

When I look at what’s happening in America today, I think about my father — a Holocaust survivor and Jewish partisan who fought the Nazis from the forests of Eastern Europe. And I ask myself: What would he be doing now?

He wasn’t a soldier in uniform or a man with a title. He was one of roughly 25,000 Jews who escaped the ghettos, organized others, and fought back against fascism when the world had turned its back.
He knew what tyranny looked like — and how ordinary people, blinded by fear or pride, made it possible.

If he were alive today, he would recognize what’s happening in America for exactly what it is. He would see the rise of lies over truth, division over decency, power over justice — and he would not be silent.

He would know that fascism doesn’t return wearing swastikas. It comes wrapped in flags and false promises.

And he would tell me, as he told others back then:

“When you see the signs, don’t wait for someone else. Do something.”

His warning wasn’t meant for Europe alone. It was meant for every generation that forgets how fragile freedom really is.

1. They Would Recognize the Pattern

Survivors were masters at reading danger. They would hear the language of dehumanization — “vermin,” “enemies within,” “traitors” — and know exactly what it means.

They’d remember how it began: with slogans and speeches that sounded patriotic. With the promise to “restore order,” “protect tradition,” and “make the nation great again.”
They’d remember how good people, moral people, convinced themselves it was all harmless politics.

But fascism always begins with small lies that become moral rot. They would say:
“We’ve seen this before. The slogans change. The hate does not.”

2. They Would See the Danger in Those Who Think They’re Immune

The survivors knew that fascism seduces not only the cruel, but the fearful — those who crave order, certainty, and safety.

And they would see, with deep sadness, how even many Jews today have fallen into that trap: believing they can side with power, play along with authoritarian movements, and somehow be protected.

They’d remember that in Germany, too, many Jews thought they could find safety by joining the Nazi Party, serving the regime, or proving their loyalty. A few gained privilege — for a while. But history was merciless. When the purge came, they were sent to the same camps, the same graves.

Fascism does not make exceptions. It uses people until it destroys them.

My father would say to them today:
“You think you’re safe because they call you a friend? You’ll be next when they need another enemy.”

3. They Would Not Wait for Permission to Resist

The partisans didn’t wait for permission. They didn’t ask who was in charge. They saw what needed to be done and acted.

They would be doing the same now — organizing small networks of resistance in communities, synagogues, libraries, and living rooms. Not violent resistance — moral and civic resistance.

They’d run voter drives, teach history, challenge disinformation, and build coalitions that cross political lines. They would know that fascism thrives when truth dies, and truth dies when people stop fighting for it.

4. They Would Refuse Silence and Neutrality

Silence was the first victory of fascism then, and it’s the same now.

The survivors learned that neutrality always sides with the oppressor. They would challenge rabbis, Jewish leaders, and politicians who hide behind polite caution — those who say, “We don’t want to get political.”

They would say, “If you are silent when democracy is being dismantled, you are not neutral — you are helping the destroyers.”

And to Jews who support authoritarian leaders because they claim to “stand with Israel,” my father would ask: “At what cost?”

Because support that comes from hate is not friendship. It’s bait.

5. They Would Appeal to Humanity, Not Just Politics

My father understood that fascism feeds on fear and division. He would talk not about party or ideology, but about humanity.

He would sit with conservatives, immigrants, and working families who feel left behind. He would talk about freedom, decency, responsibility — and how democracy depends on ordinary people defending one another.

He would remind them that once fascism wins, no one is safe — not the faithful, not the patriots, not even those who cheered the loudest.

6. They Would Teach and Testify, Again and Again

If the survivors were here, they would be traveling across America — to schools, churches, and civic halls — telling their stories again, even when people didn’t want to listen.

They’d tell how it started with propaganda that blurred truth and made cruelty seem normal. How some people laughed, others shrugged, and only a few stood up.

They’d tell of Jewish collaborators who believed cooperation meant survival — until they were taken, too.
They’d say: “Evil never stays satisfied with the first victims.”

And they’d warn America: when you hear talk of “purifying the nation,” when you see books banned, journalists threatened, and judges mocked — that’s not politics. That’s the road to tyranny.

7. They Would Demand Action, Not Pity

My father didn’t survive to be pitied. He survived to rebuild, to bear witness, and to demand responsibility. He would say:
“Talk is not enough. Act. Organize. Write. Vote. Protect the truth. Don’t wait for action — take action.”

Because the smallest act of courage — the refusal to repeat a lie, the defense of someone being attacked — is how civilizations are saved.

8. They Would Defend Democracy — Chaos and All

Survivors valued democracy not because it was easy, but because it was human. They knew that dictators promise order, but deliver fear.

Democracy, with all its chaos, arguments, and imperfections, is the only system that lets conscience breathe.

They would tell us that democracy isn’t fragile because it’s weak — it’s fragile because it depends on courage.

They’d say: “Freedom isn’t free. You have to earn it every day — with truth, decency, and vigilance.”

9. They Would Warn the Comfortable

Survivors would not be surprised that fascism has found new life in America. They would recognize the complacency of those who say, “It can’t happen here.”

They would remind us that Germans said the same thing in 1932. So did Italians, Hungarians, and Poles.
Each believed their institutions were strong enough — until they weren’t.

And they’d ask us: “Do you think your Constitution will save you if you won’t defend it?”

10. They Would Leave Us with a Message

If my father and his fellow partisans were here, they would tell us:
“You are the last line. There is no one coming to save you.”

They would remind us that fascism always starts with words — and always ends with silence.

And they would tell us what they told each other in the forests, when hope seemed lost:

“We may die, but on our own terms.”

The Problem We Face Now

The No Kings rallies are a start — but they are not enough. There is nothing happening that is consistent or constant.

This is not like the 1960s, when people filled the streets every day, every weekend, in every city across the nation. When the noise outside the White House was never-ending. When President Lyndon Johnson could hear the voices of protest from inside — and still defended their right to be there.

Today, we are only out when it’s convenient for us. We post memes instead of marching. We share outrage instead of organizing. People are spending more time preaching to their own circles than reaching across divides.

The fascists are marching again — and we’re sending memes.

They see our weakness. They know our will isn’t there to truly take them on.

This weekend, there will be no organized protests. Next week, none. The week after, none. Meanwhile, they are hard at work — every day, non-stop.

And that’s why they are winning.

The partisans would never have accepted that. They knew survival required more than words — it required relentless, united resistance.

The Silence of Our Own Leaders

Jewish organizations remain largely silent. The Anti-Defamation League, Jewish Federations, the American Jewish Committee, and countless others stand on the sidelines while democracy crumbles and fascism gains strength.

Many have taken what they call a “support for Israel is worth the downside” approach — accepting alliances with those who despise us, as long as they say the right words about Israel.

There is no courage among most Jewish leaders, nationally or locally.

They speak at conferences and issue statements, but not one of them is leading a moral uprising. There is not a single Elie Wiesel today — no one with the moral authority to speak truth to power, to unite us, or to remind the world that silence in the face of evil is complicity.

My father and his generation of survivors would have been appalled. They would have seen this cowardice for what it is — a surrender of conscience for comfort, of leadership for access.

The Survivors’ Final Lesson

America doesn’t need more outrage. It needs courage — the kind my father carried into the woods, not just for revenge, but for life itself.

They would tell us that saving democracy starts small — with decency, truth, and the refusal to hate.

The survivors are mostly gone now, but their warning is not:
Freedom dies when we stop defending it.
Truth dies when we stop telling it.
And humanity dies when we stop caring.

My Reflection

I often ask myself what my father would be doing today if he saw the hatred, division, and blindness spreading across America.

I think he’d be doing what I’m trying to do now — speaking to anyone who will listen, especially those who’ve never heard our story before. He’d be organizing quietly, reaching across divides, and calling people back to decency and truth.

He’d remind me that democracy isn’t an inheritance. It’s a daily fight — one that can’t be won with anger, only with courage.

And I can still hear his voice:

“If you wait for someone else to act, you’ve already lost.”

We all like to believe we would have resisted if we’d lived in those times.

But the truth is — we are living in those times again. And history is asking the same question:

Who will stand up this time?

The survivors are gone. But their warning is still echoing — if we have the courage to hear it.

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About Jerry Elman
Author of Miracles Through Hell, A True Story of Holocaust Survival and Intergenerational Healing.
A second-generation Holocaust survivor, educator, and speaker on the lessons of history, hate, democracy, and moral courage.