Author Deborah Feldman has been shaking up expectations since she published “Unorthodox,” a 2012 memoir about her departure from her Hasidic community in New York City, which was later turned into an acclaimed Netflix series. Feldman, whose first language is Yiddish, immigrated to Berlin a decade ago. He has published books in English and German. And since the start of the Israel-Hamas war last October, her writings and interviews have struck a nerve in Germany, where she is now a citizen.
She became a rare voice in the German media: a Jewish writer critical of Germany’s unquestioning support for Israel and the stifling of dissenting voices in the country’s cultural institutions. He joined more than a hundred Jewish writers, artists and academics who signed a letter condemning Germany’s ban on pro-Palestinian rallies and, in a widely publicized televised appearance, emotionally charged German political leaders with failing to properly apply the lessons of the crimes of Third Reich.
Over a recent lunch in central Berlin, at a restaurant around the corner from the city’s renovated Great Synagogue, we discussed the rise and fall of a cultural capital, the place of Jews in contemporary German society, and how the legacy of the Holocaust shapes a culture both historical responsibility as well as political fear. This conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.
You’ve been living here in Berlin since 2014. How big was the adjustment from your previous life in New York?
I love Berlin. Moving here was really a very personal decision for me. I grew up ultra-Orthodox in New York, and when I left the community, I didn’t really leave. For many Orthodox, if you stay where you come from, there is a sense that you have your past in your backyard. Many of my ex-Orthodox friends from Israel say the same. There is a whole scene of ex-Orthodox people in Berlin, many of them from Israel.
And ten years ago, it was still a very exciting city. Honestly, it was the first place where I really met Muslims and Palestinians. Even though I’m from New York, my experience of New York was pretty segregated. Things took a downturn after that, but it was very exciting and it was very diverse, and it was full of people reinventing themselves and getting away from things. Many refugees, many fascinating biographies, many foreigners. New York was becoming a city of bankers and prostitutes. And Berlin still felt anti-capitalist, it felt independent, and also: I’m German.
You were raised by Holocaust survivors. And one of your great-grandfathers left Bavaria just before the war started.
My great grandfather was arrested in 1938 when he was 43 years old. He was one of the last people to get a PhD before it became illegal for Jews.
In the weeks after Hamas attacked the residents of southern Israel, as the siege of Gaza intensified, you appeared on a German talk show with Robert Habeck, the vice chancellor. You used some harsh language. you accused the politicians in this country of not learning from the holocaust.
I said you use the Holocaust as an excuse to abandon moral clarity. The reaction was huge. People were writing charts trying to explain why I was wrong and why I shouldn’t be allowed on TV.
What I really think has happened here is that memory culture has produced two conflicting phenomena.
It produced a society paralyzed by guilt and discomfort. Germany has no emotional space and energy for any other historical responsibility than the fact that it committed the Holocaust.
But at the same time, the official culture of memory created an uncontrolled arena for politicians to abuse this history. These politicians do not reflect the views of society, but they do not feel the need, because they have created a culture in which society has no say in this matter. And it is so sad that the Jewish people have such different cultural, ethnic and religious identities, but in Germany they have to fit it into the Holocaust victim identity.
Over the past five years there have been frequent discussions about how the culture of memory you describe—those institutional efforts to address the country’s Nazi past and responsibility for the Holocaust—should represent Germany’s current reality as a diverse, multinational society. After October 7th, this seems to have become much more difficult.
That was exactly my struggle. All these centre-lefts I know, people who vote SPD or Greens, seemed to be on the good side of things. They would talk about racism and diversity. And then you have this story with Documenta…
The country’s most important art exhibition, which fell to pieces in 2022 amid accusations of anti-Semitism and racism. And after October 7th, the team took it upon themselves to plan the next edition of Documenta collapsed.
Documenta was a very big moment for artists in this regard. Everyone became very afraid. What we are experiencing is a gap between the cultural establishment and the political structures that finance the cultural scene.
Artists and art professionals keep telling me that this seems like a turning point for Berlin’s position as a European cultural center. Does the city seem transformed to you?
I have many Palestinian friends. Many Israeli friends. Many friends with an immigrant background. My whole community was just paralyzed with fear and hopelessness and this feeling of humiliation, worthlessness, dehumanization.
I feel more and more uncomfortable. I reapplied for my US passport which I allowed to expire. I have discussed with my husband the possibility that if things go south, should we leave? It’s really hard to keep up, and the only way I manage to occasionally show my face and make my voice heard is by mustering righteous anger, which doesn’t always meet the best. But many people try to stop me.
Is it also possible to come up with an alternative? After the uproar over the revoked literary prize for Berlin-based Palestinian writer Adania Shibli, decided to publish in the Berlin Reviewa new cultural edition.
Berlin’s review is so cathartic and it’s so landmark. Honors Berlin. It’s stuff like this that keeps me here, because I’ve lost faith in the German media. I never had faith in German politics, but now I really have no hope for German politics. Honestly, I think what I still feel connected to is people telling me in private, “I agree with you, but if I do, I lose my job.”
