The Jewish 100: A Ranking of the Most Influential Jews of All Time (8 page)

Before David, Jewish history seems a tangle of petty tribal hostilities. His reign gave coherence and an international resonance to Jewish affairs. By David’s example, God’s covenant with the Jewish people, with every soul on Earth, was channeled into everyday life through a humane method of governing, constitutional monarchy, or what has been called by the eminent Paul Johnson “theocratic democracy.”

David was never an Oriental-style monarch, dictating to his subjects absolutely. His actions were mostly limited by their will. A deeply religious man, he despised oppression and sought to ensure that justice would prevail. These concepts of freedom and responsibility exerted immense historical force, serving as models for constitutional government in America and Europe during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

The development of David’s personality has been repeatedly studied and discussed over the centuries. Much more popular than his predecessor, the brooding warrior Saul, and more capable than his beloved friend Jonathan, Saul’s son, David, a model leader of fighting men, could not control his own family. Three sons, most prominently Absalom, died tragically, committing crimes of passion in open revolt against the established order.

David’s liaison with Bathsheba, a married woman, had disastrous consequences. Viewing her taking a bath on her terrace, David was smitten, invited her to his palace, slept with her, and made her pregnant. He then arranged to cover up his act of adultery by ordering her husband back from the army to stay with Bathsheba. Instead, her husband slept in the palace, ignoring Bathsheba, providing no opportunity to legitimize her pregnancy. David completed the subterfuge by ordering her husband to be sent to the forefront of the battlefield and sure death. When confronted by the prophet Nathan and even though the supreme authority in his kingdom, David repented, asked forgiveness, displayed his humility before God (one might argue that David’s deeds were punishable by death, but kings apparently are able to live by different rules while setting poetic examples for future generations to ponder). Bathsheba later gave birth to Solomon, David’s scholarly successor.

To consolidate his power, David transformed a society of disputing tribes into a centralized national government. Like so many successful leaders in history, he was highly skilled in military affairs, trained by the Philistines in the use of their new iron weapons. In the power vacuum left after Saul’s death, David subdued the marauding Philistines and other local groups, seizing land, which was reassigned to the tribes in exchange for loyalty and a consolidated state.

David captured Jerusalem in a daring raid (penetrating its fortifications through an underground water conduit), and established the city as the capital of his united kingdom. Jerusalem lay at the crossroads of the northern region of Israel and southern Judah, with nearby access to ancient trade routes.

Michelangelo’s marble statue of David from the early 16th century.

Seeking to display his obedience to God and vesting his reign in religious armor, David moved the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem and made plans to build a great temple for its home. Jerusalem became the “City of David,” site of the Second Temple of Herod, Jesus’ crucifixion, Roman massacres, the Prophet’s ascent to the heavens, invasion by the Crusaders, Ottomans, and British (among many others), and today’s Israeli Knesset. Jerusalem remains the center and heart of western religion and politics.

For Jews today, the golden age of David’s rule established their national identity. The six-pointed Star of David worn by Jewish people and featured on the Israeli flag symbolizes their home, eternal Zion. The inhabitants of the tiny state of Israel have long viewed themselves as a nation of Davids, clustered together in a hardy army ready at all times to defeat the Goliaths of the Middle East. The Jewish memory of David’s era remains perfect, an ideal for modern Israelis.

Through the centuries before Jesus, Jews believed that the Messiah or “anointed one” would be a direct descendant of David. Jesus was indeed repeatedly called “son of David” during his life, and the authors of the Gospels take great pains at listing his genealogy. Like David, Jesus was said to have been born in Bethlehem. David as precursor of Jesus became a model for early Christian royalty. Charlemagne was dubbed the “new David.” David’s open relationship with the Prophet Nathan (who held David accountable for his sins) was used as precedent for the many Christian European kings during the Middle Ages and Renaissance desiring legitimacy through the sacred anointment of the Church. For the Renaissance artist Donatello, David is a slight Italianate boy with ideal, somewhat female shape, a new Apollo. Only in Michelangelo’s enormous marble statue can we feel David’s unique charisma, fortitude, courage, and humanity. David, singer of psalms, glorified his people and his good name through the poetry of enlightened rule.

I
t seems hardly possible to imagine the deaths of over six million people. Think of the town or city you live in. Unless you are in a great metropolis like New York or Tokyo, most likely the number of people living around you is much less than six million. Six million people may be greater than the total number of persons in your country, in your state, perhaps in your entire region. Still, you cannot imagine so many people, so many lives, and so many deaths. This is beyond your understanding.

Yet you do know Anne Frank. Her story is familiar from the well-known stage and film dramatizations. You remember her family and friends hidden in an attic, the Secret Annexe, in Amsterdam, helped by Christian friends, betrayed to the Nazis, followed by death in the concentration camps. You remember her childish hopes and fears, her teenage love, her spunk and lack of respect for certain elders, her great ability to write. You must surely cherish her memory.

For most people (prior to the remarkable testament of Steven Spielberg’s
Schindler’s List),
Anne Frank’s diary is the only way to begin to comprehend the personal tragedy of the Holocaust.

Her diary begins on June 12, 1942. The first entries are those of a giddy young girl at home, gaily itemizing her birthday presents. Soon, however, she states the reason for her writing—she has no really close friend, she wants her diary to be her real friend, she will call her friend Kitty. She details in brief how her father, Otto, at thirty-six, married her mother, Edith, then twenty-five, and that her older sister, Margot, was born in 1926 in Frankfurt, Anne joining the family three years later. In 1933 the family escaped Nazi persecution for Holland. With the Nazi invasion of 1940, anti-Jewish laws are brutally enforced, Jews severely restricted in their activities. Despite the horrors around her she gossips about her girl friends in class, her test results, who’s a good or bad student.

One sunny afternoon Anne sits outside on the veranda, lazily reading a book. The front doorbell rings. Her life suddenly changes. The SS has issued a warrant for her father’s arrest, the family must flee. Mother is warning the Van Pels family. Mr. Van Pels is a coworker of Mr. Frank. Otto’s Christian friends Miep and her new husband, Jan Gies, arrive to take away some personal belongings. Soon the family reaches Otto’s office, climbs the stairs to a plain gray door. Behind the door are several rooms, you could never imagine there are so many rooms there, the Secret Annexe. A few days later Mr. and Mrs. Van Pels and their fifteen-year-old son Peter join the Franks. Peter brings his cat, Mouschi, with him. The Franks and the Van Pels settle in, while the streets around the Annexe echo with the sounds of transports of Jews being carted away to unknown destinations.

Anne writes in detail about their mundane life in hiding. Mr. Van Pels and Anne upset each other (he prefers Margot). Peter is boring, Anne thinks him a fool. The weather is nice. The Van Pels quarrel while the Franks try to keep the peace. No one dares move around during the day; someone below might hear, get suspicious. Otto starts to read the plays of Goethe and Schiller to Anne every night. Great German culture is passed from one generation to another amid the greatest Teutonic barbarism. Anne clings to her father.

Photos of Anne Frank before she went into hiding in June 1942.

They all listen to the radio for news of the war. Appalling stories of Jewish persecution are told to them by Miep and their other Good Samaritan hosts. They decide that since “it is just as dangerous for seven as for eight,” they will take in another boarder, a dentist named Friedrich Pfeffer. Anne must share her little room with the quiet dentist, who is very slow to understand her and can’t seem to remember anything. Despite her new eccentric companion, she feels “wicked” sleeping in safety while her classmates are outside meeting some cruel fate.

Burglars strike below during the night. Anne notates carefully the behavior of all her companions in hiding. Taking literary license, she changes her name in the diary to Anne Robin, the Van Pels to the Van Daans. Dr. Pfeffer becomes Dr. Dussel, the cat is renamed Boche (meaning “German” in French). Anne experiments with language, dialogue. As 1943 progresses, she notices Peter’s helpful contributions to their common plight. His parents have terrible rows, arguing over hocking Mrs. Van Pels’ fur coat, over their lack of money. Anne composes an ode to her fountain pen, cremated by accident in the stove. She deeply regrets harm possibly inflicted on a friend in school. Where is that friend now? She prays that the girl will survive the war.

Anne sees herself in the mirror. Her face has changed, her mouth softened in appearance. If only Peter would notice! Politics and news of the imminent Allied invasion is mixed with her confused longings for spring. The year 1944 brings questions about her sexuality (why don’t parents explain more to their children?), desires for her first kiss. More burglars attack their building and the police come as far as the swinging cupboard hiding the door to the Annexe; the hidden Jews are lucky not to be discovered.

Anne speaks directly to God. Why must the Jews be treated differently from other people? But she recognizes the strength of her people; that they will last despite the hate. She too will not be insignificant but will work for the world, for mankind. Shortly thereafter, the diary entries break off.

Just one month after the Allied invasion of Normandy, the Secret Annexe was raided by the Grüne Polizei. Everyone was sent to concentration camps along with two of their Christian friends. For most of August 1944 the Franks, Van Pels, and Dr. Pfeffer were all together in a Jewish transit camp. Anne and Peter were inseparable during this time. On the night of September 5—6 they arrived at the death camp, Auschwitz. The men and women were immediately separated. Mr. Van Pels was gassed immediately. Pfeffer was transferred to another concentration camp where he perished shortly thereafter. Just after New Year’s of 1945, Anne’s mother died in Birkenau, the women’s camp adjoining Auschwitz. With the approach of the Red Army, large groups of prisoners were moved on death marches in the bitter cold to Czechoslovakia and Germany. Mrs. Van Pels died on one of these marches sometime between April and May. Peter survived such a death march only to die just three days before the liberation of the Mauthausen concentration camp by the American Army. Margot and Anne were moved to the Bergen-Belsen camp where they survived under the harshest conditions until their deaths from typhus sometime in late February or early March. It was said that Anne died a few days after Margot.