Portraying the exhumation and reburial of Polish Jewish Holocaust victims in the pages of yizkor books
Gabriel N. Finder
-roots efforts by surviving members of hundreds of destroyed
Jewish communities. Meant to commemorate these communities,
yizkor books were published in small runs, primarily in the 1950s,
1960s, and 1970s, by landsmanshaftn, mutual-aid societies of Jews
located mainly in Israel and North America but also in South
America, Australia, and various countries in Western Europe who
36 Gabriel N. Finder
came from the same town or region in Eastern Europe. Six hundred yizkor books have been published. Ninety per cent pertain to
Jewish communities within the borders of interwar
Challenges and technological solutions to the identification of individuals in mass grave scenarios in the modern context
Gillian Fowler and Tim Thompson
, 57 (2012), 47–51.
Gonzalez-Rodriguez & Fowler, ‘A study on the discrimination’.
S. Dillane, M. Thompson, J. Meyer, M. Norquay & R. C. O’Brien,
‘Inductively coupled plasma-atomic emission spectroscopy (ICP-AES)
as a method of species differentiation of bone fragments’, Australian
Journal of Forensic Sciences, 43 (2011), 297–312.
Dillane et al., ‘Inductively coupled plasma-atomic emission
J. E. Byrd & B. J. Adams, ‘Osteometric sorting of commingled human
remains’, Journal of Forensic Sciences, 48 (2003), 717–24.
For example, E. Anastasiou & A
A war of extermination, grave looting, and culture wars in the American West
and defeated Native
communities on the west coast were unable to protect their ancient
Unauthorized exhumation was not an exclusively American phenomenon. In the 1830s, British scientists brought back Tasmanian
Aborigine corpses to London. Hundreds, possibly thousands of
Aboriginal remains from Australia ended up in universities and collections in England and Scotland.25 Dutch colonists sent the head of
an Ahanta king in Ghana back to the Netherlands in 1838, where it
was kept at Leiden University’s Medical Centre until repatriation in
2009.26 By the
unsystematic burial of migrants. A member of a local civil society group told us of a relative of a migrant who died on the neighbouring island of
Chios. Although he had travelled from Australia and had spent a fortune trying to
trace and identify his dead relative, the gravedigger could not remember the precise
burial spot, and no systematic data was stored as to which body was buried where.
Once a tractor started digging, it became clear that he was buried in a mass grave
along with other victims, making identification impossible.
The reaction of the islanders to migrant
ignore them, because we didn’t want people to think we were
like them.’ Shame in border crossing therefore reflected not only the shameful acts
of sexualised performance but was relational to a broader shame of having to make
such trips to Romania, ‘the poorer neighbour’.
In the Ukrainian context we are dealing with a situation similar to that discussed
by Blagg (1997) in his study of the Australian justice system’s inability to employ
reintegrative shaming with aborigines. The system’s ability to shame is compromised by its own shameful past treatment of aborigines
Holocaust and the Postmodern (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2004); K. Ball, Disciplining the Holocaust (New York:
SUNY Press, 2008).
See Lemke, Biopolitics, pp. 58–63.
D. A. Moses, ‘Genocide and modernity’, in Dan Stone (ed.), The Historiography of Genocide (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), pp. 156–93;
D. A. Moses, ‘Modernity and the Holocaust’, Australian Journal of
Politics and History, 43 (1997), pp. 441–5.
D. Stone, ‘Biopower and modern genocide’, in A. D. Moses (ed.),
Empire, Colony, Genocide: Conquest Occupation and Subaltern Resistance in World History (New