Turning Away From the Holocaust
By Max Frankel
November 14, 2001

From the New York Times 150th anniversary site:
http://www.nytimes.com/2001/11/14/specials/onefifty/20FRAN.html

AND then there was failure: none greater than the staggering, 
staining failure of The New York Times to depict Hitler's 
methodical extermination of the Jews of Europe as a horror 
beyond all other horrors in World War II — a Nazi war within 
the war crying out for illumination.

The annihilation of six million Jews would not for many years 
become distinctively known as the Holocaust. But its essence 
became knowable fast enough, from ominous Nazi threats and 
undisputed eyewitness reports collected by American 
correspondents, agents and informants. Indeed, a large number 
of those reports appeared in The Times. But they were mostly 
buried inside its gray and stolid pages, never featured, 
analyzed or rendered truly comprehensible.

Yet what they printed made clear that the editors did not long 
mistrust the ghastly reports. They presented them as true within 
months of Hitler's secret resolve in 1941 to proceed to the 
"final solution" of his fantasized "Jewish problem."

Why, then, were the terrifying tales almost hidden in the back 
pages? Like most — though not all — American media, and most of 
official Washington, The Times drowned its reports about the fate 
of Jews in the flood of wartime news. Its neglect was far from 
unique and its reach was not then fully national, but as the 
premier American source of wartime news, it surely influenced the 
judgment of other news purveyors.

While a few publications — newspapers like The Post (then liberal) 
and PM in New York and magazines like The Nation and The New 
Republic — showed more conspicuous concern, The Times's coverage 
generally took the view that the atrocities inflicted upon Europe's 
Jews, while horrific, were not significantly different from those 
visited upon tens of millions of other war victims, nor more 
noteworthy.

Six Years, Six Page 1 Articles

Only six times in nearly six years did The Times's front page 
mention Jews as Hitler's unique target for total annihilation. 
Only once was their fate the subject of a lead editorial. Only 
twice did their rescue inspire passionate cries in the Sunday 
magazine.

Although The Times's news columns in those years did not offer 
as much analysis or synthesis as they do today, the paper took 
great pride in ranking the importance of events each morning and 
in carefully reviewing the major news of every week and every year. 
How could it happen that the war on the Jews never qualified for 
such highlighted attention?

There is no surviving record of how the paper's coverage of the 
subject was discussed by Times editors during the war years of 
1939-45. But within that coverage is recurring evidence of a 
guiding principle: do not feature the plight of Jews, and take 
care, when reporting it, to link their suffering to that of many 
other Europeans.

This reticence has been a subject of extensive scholarly inquiry 
and also much speculation and condemnation. Critics have blamed 
"self-hating Jews" and "anti-Zionists" among the paper's owners 
and staff. Defenders have cited the sketchiness of much 
information about the death camps in Eastern Europe and also the 
inability of prewar generations to fully comprehend the industrial 
gassing of millions of innocents — a machinery of death not yet 
exposed by those chilling mounds of Jews' bones, hair, shoes, 
rings.

No single explanation seems to suffice for what was surely the 
century's bitterest journalistic failure. The Times, like most 
media of that era, fervently embraced the wartime policies of the 
American and British governments, both of which strongly resisted 
proposals to rescue Jews or to offer them haven. After a decade 
of economic depression, both governments had political reasons to 
discourage immigration and diplomatic reasons to refuse Jewish 
settlements in regions like Palestine.

Then, too, papers owned by Jewish families, like The Times, were 
plainly afraid to have a society that was still widely anti- 
Semitic misread their passionate opposition to Hitler as a merely 
parochial cause. Even some leading Jewish groups hedged their 
appeals for rescue lest they be accused of wanting to divert 
wartime energies.

At The Times, the reluctance to highlight the systematic slaughter 
of Jews was also undoubtedly influenced by the views of the 
publisher, Arthur Hays Sulzberger. He believed strongly and 
publicly that Judaism was a religion, not a race or nationality — 
that Jews should be separate only in the way they worshiped. 
He thought they needed no state or political and social 
institutions of their own. He went to great lengths to avoid 
having The Times branded a "Jewish newspaper." He resented other 
publications for emphasizing the Jewishness of people in the news.

And it was his policy, on most questions, to steer The Times 
toward the centrist values of America's governmental and 
intellectual elites. Because his editorial page, like the American 
government and other leading media, refused to dwell on the Jews' 
singular victimization, it was cool to all measures that might 
have singled them out for rescue or even special attention.

Only once did The Times devote its lead editorial to the subject. 
That was on Dec. 2, 1942, after the State Department had 
unofficially confirmed to leading rabbis that two million Jews had 
already been slain and that five million more were indeed "in 
danger of extermination." Even that editorial, however, retreated 
quickly from any show of special concern. Insisting in its title 
that Jews were merely "The First to Suffer," it said the same 
fate awaited "people of other faiths and of many races," including 
"our own `mongrel' nation" and even Hitler's allies in Japan if 
he were to win the war.

In only one 48-hour period, in early March 1943, was the paper 
moved to concede in multiple ways that Europe's Jews merited 
extraordinary attention. The impetus apparently came from Anne 
O'Hare McCormick, the foreign affairs columnist, a favorite of 
Sulzberger and a member of his editorial board, who thought that 
a Madison Square Garden rally pleading for the rescue of Jews 
had exposed "the shame of the world."

"There is not the slightest question," she wrote, "that the 
persecution of the Jews has reached its awful climax in a 
campaign to wipe them out of Europe. If the Christian community 
does not support to the utmost the belated proposal worked out 
to rescue the Jews remaining in Europe from the fate prepared for 
them, we have accepted the Hitlerian thesis and forever 
compromised the principles for which we are pouring out blood and 
wealth."

Beside her column on March 3, the last of seven editorials allowed 
that Hitler had condemned the Jews to death "where others are 
sometimes let off with slavery." Vaguely urging the United States 
to revise "the chilly formalism of its immigration regulations," 
it urged other free nations to let no "secondary considerations" 
bar entry of those refugees who might yet escape from the Nazis' 
control.

On the previous day, that same Garden rally was described in an 
exceptional half-page article, beginning with three paragraphs 
on Page 1 under the smallest of 11 front-page headlines:

SAVE DOOMED JEWS,
HUGE RALLY PLEADS

As never before or after, that day's coverage included long 
quotations from speeches and even the text of the rally's 
"resolution" calling for urgent measures to move Jews out of 
Hitler's grasp.

When more than a year later the editorial page returned to the 
subject and supported the idea of temporarily housing refugees 
in isolated American camps, it urged saving "innocent people" 
without ever using the word "Jew."

On its dense inside pages, however, The Times was much less 
hesitant about offering persuasive and gruesome details of the 
systematic murders of Jews. Hundreds of short items and scores 
of longer articles from different corners of Europe bore out 
the prophetic dispatch from the Berlin bureau that had appeared 
on Page 5 on Sept. 13, 1939, two weeks after Hitler invaded 
Poland:

NAZIS HINT PURGE
OF JEWS IN POLAND

"First intimations," it began, "that a solution of the 'Jewish 
problem' in Poland is on the German-Polish agenda are revealed 
in a `special report' of the official German News Bureau." 
Given the report's claim that Polish Jewry "continually fortified 
and enlarged" Western Jewry, the Times correspondent added, 
it was hard to see how their "removal" would change things 
"without their extermination."

On March 1, 1942, just seven weeks after the notorious Wannsee 
Conference distributed orders about the mass-murder weapons to 
be used against Jews, an article on Page 28 bore this headline:

EXTINCTION FEARED
BY JEWS IN POLAND

Polish intellectuals and officials cited underground sources for 
the warning that 3.5 million Jews stood condemned "to cruel death — 
to complete annihilation."

By June 13, the threat became official: "Nazis Blame Jews/For 
Big Bombings" read a headline on Page 7. The accompanying article 
quoted Joseph Goebbels as vowing that the Jews would pay for 
German suffering "with the extermination of their race in all 
Europe and perhaps even beyond Europe."

Two weeks later, two paragraphs appended to the end of a related 
article brought the news that "probably the greatest mass slaughter 
in history" had already claimed the lives of 700,000 Jews in 
Poland — a slaughter employing "machine-gun bullets, hand grenades, 
gas chambers, concentration camps, whipping, torture instruments 
and starvation." By June 30, a brief item said the World Jewish 
Congress put the death toll at one million.

Still greater detail followed, on Page 6 of the July 2 issue, in 
a London report quoting the Polish government in exile. It cited 
the use of gas chambers to kill 1,000 Jews a day in different 
cities and the staging of a blood bath in the Warsaw ghetto. 
It said that "the criminal German government is fulfilling 
Hitler's threat that, whoever wins, all Jews will be murdered." 
Typically, the headline, "Allies Are Urged/To Execute Nazis," 
was no larger than that on a neighboring article about a Polish 
diplomat who died in a plunge on Riverside Drive.

Extermination Order on Page 10

On Nov. 25, a lengthy London dispatch on Page 10 cited roundups, 
gassings, cattle cars and the disappearance of 90 percent of 
Warsaw's ghetto population. It said Heinrich Himmler, the 
Gestapo head, had ordered the extermination of half of Poland's 
Jews before the end of 1942.

That same month, the State Department finally conceded that it 
had confirmed the extermination campaign but insisted that the 
Allies were helpless to prevent it. By Dec. 9, 1942, President 
Franklin D. Roosevelt was reported on Page 20 to have promised 
Jewish petitioners eventual punishment of the Nazi murderers. 
He was told that "the scientific and low-cost extermination" 
had claimed almost two million lives. There followed a rare 
front-page notice, on Dec. 18, under the smallest of a dozen 
headlines: "11 Allies Condemn/Nazi War on Jews." A brief 
editorial that day observed that this protest responded not 
just to the outcry of victims but to "officially established 
facts."

For once, The Times Magazine now felt free to offer a passionate 
plea for Europe's Jews. A brief essay by the novelist Sholem Asch 
on Feb. 7, 1943, recounted "the inhuman process of transportation 
in sealed, unventilated, limed freight cars, which are death 
traps."

"Those that survive," he wrote, "become as human waste to be 
thrown into mass- slaughter houses."

The magazine's next and last article on the subject, by Arthur 
Koestler on June 9, 1944, dealt mainly with the difficulty of 
comprehending "the greatest mass killing in recorded history."

Yet comparable emotion appeared in The Times only in a half dozen 
large advertisements pleading for "ACTION — NOT PITY!" They were 
from groups urging the rescue of Jews or the formation of an 
avenging Jewish army in Palestine. Only passing notice recorded 
the mounting Jewish death toll: 3 million in August 1943, 
4 million in July 1944, 5.5 million in November 1944.

Never the Lead Article of the Day

No article about the Jews' plight ever qualified as The Times's 
leading story of the day, or as a major event of a week or year. 
The ordinary reader of its pages could hardly be blamed for 
failing to comprehend the enormity of the Nazis' crime.

As Laurel Leff, an assistant professor at the Northeastern 
School of Journalism, has concluded, it was a tragic 
demonstration of how "the facts didn't speak for themselves." 
She has been the most diligent independent student of The 
Times's Holocaust coverage and deftly summarized her findings 
last year in The Harvard International Journal of Press/Politics.

"You could have read the front page of The New York Times in 
1939 and 1940," she wrote, "without knowing that millions of 
Jews were being sent to Poland, imprisoned in ghettos, and dying 
of disease and starvation by the tens of thousands. You could 
have read the front page in 1941 without knowing that the Nazis 
were machine-gunning hundreds of thousands of Jews in the 
Soviet Union.

"You could have read the front page in 1942 and not have known, 
until the last month, that the Germans were carrying out a plan 
to annihilate European Jewry. In 1943, you would have been told 
once that Jews from France, Belgium and the Netherlands were 
being sent to slaughterhouses in Poland and that more than half 
of the Jews of Europe were dead, but only in the context of a 
single story on a rally by Jewish groups that devoted more 
space to who had spoken than to who had died.

"In 1944, you would have learned from the front page of the 
existence of horrible places such as Maidanek and Auschwitz, 
but only inside the paper could you find that the victims were 
Jews. In 1945, [liberated] Dachau and Buchenwald were on the 
front page, but the Jews were buried inside."

A story buried but not, over time, forgotten.

After the Nazis' slaughter of Jews was fully exposed at war's 
end, Iphigene Ochs Sulzberger, the influential daughter, 
wife and mother of Times publishers, changed her mind about 
the need for a Jewish state and helped her husband, Arthur Hays 
Sulzberger, accept the idea of Israel and befriend its leaders. 
Later, led by their son, Arthur Ochs Sulzberger, and their 
grandson Arthur Sulzberger Jr., The Times shed its sensitivity 
about its Jewish roots, allowed Jews to ascend to the editor's 
chair and warmly supported Israel in many editorials.

And to this day the failure of America's media to fasten upon 
Hitler's mad atrocities stirs the conscience of succeeding 
generations of reporters and editors. It has made them acutely 
alert to ethnic barbarities in far-off places like Uganda, 
Rwanda, Bosnia and Kosovo. It leaves them obviously resolved 
that in the face of genocide, journalism shall not have failed 
in vain.

Max Frankel is a former executive editor of The Times.