Maryla Husyt Finkelstein.
In April 1990, on the 47th Anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, Maryla Husyt Finkelstein (1917–1995) spoke to Amy Goodman on WBAI radio in New York. She was not only a Holocaust survivor but also a woman who carried the voices of the exterminated with her—a witness to hunger, confinement, betrayal, and unimaginable loss.
Maryla survived the Warsaw Ghetto, Majdanek, and two slave-labor camps. Every member of her family in Poland was exterminated. Her husband, Zacharias Finkelstein, survived Auschwitz and the death march, though his entire family too was wiped out. They were left alone in the world, but they carried their memories like sacred testimony.
Maryla was also the mother of Professor Norman Finkelstein, one of the fiercest critics of Israeli policies today. Her legacy and her words live through him—and through us, if we choose to listen.
When Maryla spoke that spring day in 1990, she gave a testimony of hunger and abandonment that eerily echoes what Palestinians endure today in Gaza. Her words cut through decades and borders to touch the heart of a struggle that repeats itself: a people besieged, starved, bombed, and demonized—yet blamed simply for being born where they were.
A Survivor’s Testimony
Maryla remembered the faces of the Jewish youth in the Warsaw Ghetto:
“They were between 18 and 22. Those were faces of old people. Serious. Anticipating more than I. They were building hiding places, knowing already that we are going to die. The whole ghetto population threw themselves into building bunkers… It was extermination. It was not a fight. It was extermination.”
She recalled what it meant to live like vermin in the eyes of her oppressors:
“My life was literally the one of a roach. Run, run, and finding myself here or there.”
And she exposed the deepest wound—not only the brutality of the Nazis but the abandonment by the world:
“The whole world left us alone. Again and again I knew the world, the ruling powers, agreed to our extermination. We were absolutely betrayed.”
Maryla understood that the greatest cruelty was not only the violence of the oppressor but the silence of the bystander.
From Warsaw to Gaza
When she reflected on Israel’s treatment of Palestinians, Maryla did not mince words. She refused to let the Holocaust be weaponized to justify occupation and slaughter:
“Often you hear American Jews and some Israelis using the Holocaust as a justification of Israeli policies in the West Bank and Gaza. They are liars, imposters. If they went through what I went through, they wouldn’t accept such a bloodthirsty attitude.”
Then she uttered the words that should ring in every conscience today:
“The Palestinian people’s fault is the one and only: They were born in this terrain. I don’t think that this deserves persecution. They are innocent. They show tremendous patience. I wish them from the bottom of my heart a peaceful and good life. If I only could, I would stretch my arms and brace them all.”
These words, spoken by a woman who saw her entire family exterminated, carry a moral weight that shames our age. She recognized in the Palestinians’ suffering the echoes of her own—and she refused to be silent.
Why Her Words Matter Now
Today, in Gaza, children starve slowly while the world debates numbers and politics. Homes collapse under bombs. Mothers bury their children in pieces. And still, global powers nod, veto, or remain silent—just as they once did when Warsaw burned.
Maryla’s testimony is not history alone. It is prophecy. It is warning. And it is solidarity.
She knew the danger of forgetting, the corruption of memory, the betrayal of invoking the Holocaust to justify oppression. That is why her words pierce through propaganda: because they come from someone who had no illusions about what extermination means.
A Legacy of Truth
Maryla Husyt Finkelstein’s story is not simply one of survival. It is one of moral courage—the courage to speak truth even when her own community tried to silence her.
“I want to be the one who, for the sake of history, will speak for people who are against these policies. I’m always gagged, or outright thrown out from the meeting. They don’t let me tell it.”
But she told it anyway. And today, her voice joins the cries from Gaza, demanding that we do not look away, that we do not abandon the people whose “fault” is simply that they were born on their land.
Conclusion
Maryla’s words are not only testimony; they are a mirror. They ask us: What do we do when history repeats itself, live before our eyes?
Will we betray, as the world betrayed Warsaw?
Or will we finally learn, finally listen, finally stand with the oppressed?
Maryla Husyt Finkelstein, a survivor of hunger, betrayal, and extermination, told us where her heart lay:
“My heart and my sympathy goes to the Palestinian population… They are innocent. They show tremendous patience. I wish them from the bottom of my heart a peaceful and good life.”
Let us not betray her legacy.
Comments