w/Dov Forman | Author, "Lily's Promise"

Lio: Seth, how are you?

Seth: Good. Good. Getting ready to have you over here in the U.S.

Lio: Happening. For anyone targeting us,

Seth: We'll be in the same place.

Lio: Located in the same place for a while.

Seth: God help us.

Lio: Sadly, we're not big enough to have enemies. I am talking lately to people who are big enough to have enemies. In fact, I just got off a meeting with two different Jewish organizations working in non-traditional ways to fight antisemitism. The big organizations take money and don't do much, merely maintaining the status quo. These guys actually do the legwork to identify the enemies outside. In The Jew Function, we discuss the enemy within and our need to unite as Jews, which is both the root cause and solution to antisemitism. With various groups closing in on us—Jews really, in Europe, the UK, and the US—I was amazed at these organizations' work identifying enemies. Seth, let me tell you, it's depressing. I can't show this information, it's not public. But the convergence isn't just Islamists and the woke; there are anarchists and, at least in the U.S., China. There's a whole array of organizations, grassroots to public-facing, that have been receiving massive funding, close to $400 million in the past five years from big foundations. They even have a political party inside that mix, aiming for Congress. It's insane.

Seth: The Chinese one is also antisemitic?

Lio: The Chinese aren't antisemitic. They just saw an opportunity. Everyone has different reasons for working together, but they do. It's tragic but beautiful when you see it.

Seth: The whole creativity is endless.

Lio: Endless. And I think to get the Jews to assume their role, that's what we say.

Seth: Our focus isn't the what. It's the why. Why is it happening?

Lio: The Jew Function?

Seth: Yeah, because each person will figure out how to do their thing best. We talk to so many people from different areas of life. Each figures out the how or the what with their tools. Our focus is the why.

Lio: I agree. That's the heart of it, and people need to know why this is happening and then figure out their piece in the how. So, this is a good opportunity to talk about our guest. If people just stumbled upon this podcast, not knowing us, this is The Jew Function. We discuss the root cause of antisemitism and the solution, the why, and then discuss the how with our guests. Our guest today is young but already a leading voice in Holocaust education and digital advocacy. He co-authored an international bestseller, "Lily's Promise," with his great-grandmother, an Auschwitz survivor. It’s impressive to take it all the way through like that. He used social media to reach millions with her story. Straight from the UK, please welcome Dov Foreman.

Dov: Hello. Thank you for having me. Pleasure to be here.

Lio: It's a pleasure to have you here, Dov. In dark times reminiscent of those you wrote about, everyone we meet here is a point of light. We often fail to see the power of the light we can unite. Before all the grand stuff, tell us a little about Lily's story. What about it compelled you to work on it at a time when many people don't care about the past?

Dov: Of course, I'll try and give a brief overview for those who haven't heard my good grandmother's story. My good grandmother, her name was Lily Ebert, originally Lily Engelman. She was born in 1923 in Hungary in a small suburban Orthodox town called Bonnhard. She grew up in a very peaceful childhood, one which she describes having the best parents that anyone could ask for. She used to play outside with their non-Jewish neighbors. They got on very well. They were Schwabian-Hungarian, so they were mainly farmers. They provided the eggs and the milk, and the Jews bought from them. They had a very peaceful childhood, one without really any antisemitism. Of course, in Hungary, towards the 1940s, there were increasingly antisemitic laws against those going to university and in schools. But on the whole, her society in her small southern Hungarian town near the border with Austria was not antisemitic. She describes an idyllic childhood. Her father passed away in 1942. And while two-thirds of European Jewry had already been murdered by the end of 1944, the Nazis were only just invading in March 1944, Hungary. And very quickly, everything changed. Overnight, they were forced to sew a yellow star onto their clothing. Within a week, there was a curfew; they had to give up their belongings, and then eventually, they were forced to move along with Jews from the surrounding small towns into the poorest parts of the town, into what we now know as a ghetto. They were only able to take a small pile of belongings with each person. They were forced to move out of their large home, and my great-grandmother often says that she didn't understand how from one day to the next her Hungarian neighbors, her non-Jewish Hungarian neighbors, who they got on with so well, went to school with, and played with every single day outside, could turn on them so quickly. And that's something which I think Jews again today, in the post-October 7th world, have felt. How could it be that those people that I sat with in a lecture hall only a day before could turn on me so quickly? How could they be posting these terrible things online? And that same realization has been one that many young Jewish people have had to go through again today. But we can speak about that more later. After that, they spent a few weeks working in the ghetto. And again, everything with the Hungarian Holocaust happened very quickly. Within the space of three months, 450,000 Hungarian Jews were murdered in Auschwitz, in other concentration and death camps, and by bullets and starvation. They were transported in July 1944 on the second to last transport from Hungary to Auschwitz, a place that they didn't know would be the hell on earth, Auschwitz-Birkenau. Five days in the grueling summer's heat, only two buckets were placed in this cattle truck where hundreds of people were placed in a truck meant to fit only tens of people. Babies were crying; mothers couldn't give them the food they needed. Old people and babies started dying on the transport. That was really the first exposure that my great-grandmother had, even though she'd been in the ghetto. But again, that was only for a few weeks to this hell, because people started to die, and they were there in this cramped cattle truck with only one bucket of water and one bucket for human waste, no food, only what they had. They arrived in Auschwitz. The day before they arrived in Auschwitz was a fast day, Tisha B'Av. My great-grandmother's youngest brother was fasting. It was his first fast. He had just turned 13. His mother, my great-grandmother's mother, pleaded with him to eat, and he refused. He said he wouldn't. On arrival in Auschwitz, they were separated into groups of five. My great-grandmother's mother, her youngest sister, and her youngest brother were sent left by Dr. Mengele. She never got the opportunity to say goodbye. She didn't know that they would be gassed within hours of arrival. My great-grandmother and two of her other sisters were sent right. They were spared—not that they would survive, but that they would be able to work and that the Nazis would extract the maximum amount of work from them. My great-grandmother describes the moment of realization, finding out that the Nazis had murdered her mother, her youngest sister, and brother. She pointed to the chimney and the smoke that was coming out of it and the fire and the terrible smell. She always spoke about that smell, as all the survivors do. She said to a prisoner who had been there longer than her, "What place is this? What factory is this? What do they produce here?" It's incredible in a sad sense to think that someone in 1944, towards the end of the war, two-thirds of European Jewry had already been murdered didn't know what Auschwitz was, didn't know that just a few hundred kilometers from her, or possibly even less, that this was happening, there was a factory of death. That other prisoner looked up at the smoke and said, "That's not a factory. They don't produce anything there. That's where they've just burned the family that you arrived with." And that's the moment she realized where she had arrived. She'd obviously seen the skeletons walking around, and they'd shaved her hair, but she didn't realize until that moment. She spent four months in the hell on earth in Auschwitz working in the sewing factory, sewing uniforms both for the Nazis and other things. In October 1944, my great-grandmother, along with 500 other Hungarian women, were transferred to Germany to a place called Altenburg, to a munitions factory where they were forced to do heavy labor, making bullets for the Nazis. My great-grandmother often speaks of her own personal resistance. There's a big misconception, especially amongst Israelis after the war, and now antisemitic individuals use it as well—that Jews were like lambs to the slaughter. We know that's not true. People often ask me, as a Holocaust educator, why are there two Holocaust Memorial Days? Why is there the International Holocaust Memorial Day in January and Yom HaShoah in April? The reason is because the International Day is for the wider community but commemorates the liberation of Auschwitz and the destruction and the devastation. Yom HaShoah in April commemorates the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. It's a Jewish day of defiance. For my great-grandmother, that defiance was putting the bad bullets in the good pile and the good bullets in the bad pile. She was in that factory for a few months before in April 1945, being taken on the death march. She marched for five days. Her shoes had already worn out by then, with very little food, no water; anyone who slowed down was shot. If you sat down, you were shot. Suddenly, out of nowhere, they saw American planes flying over, and American Jewish liberators stumbled upon them. That was Chaplain Schachter and his group of soldiers who stumbled upon them and gave them life again. My grandmother often says that she had three lives: the life before the Holocaust, her life during the Holocaust and the hell, and that was her birthday again, Friday the 13th of April, 1945, that day of liberation. But of course, antisemitism didn't die then. The Holocaust ended, but the ideology didn't end with it. My great-grandmother might have been liberated, but that's only the moment that the pain began to set in. She began to realize what had been lost because for that whole year before that, she was just trying to survive. That's the moment when she could begin to internalize what she had just been through. Throughout that time, she was looking after her two sisters. She often says that looking after those two sisters is what helped her get through it, what helped her survive. There are other things as well, which we can talk about, about how she survived. After that, she went to Buchenwald, where she was there for between a few weeks and a few months. We don't know the exact period of time. Before that summer, moving to Switzerland, she said she didn't want to go back to Hungary. She thought that no one else, or she knew that no one else, would have survived. So she went to Switzerland to start again. She spent a year recuperating with other young Jewish men and women who had survived. Then she moved to Israel in 1947 and says that she was in the greatest hell ever, Auschwitz-Birkenau, but was also in the greatest miracle ever on the streets of Tel Aviv on the day that Israel was declared a state in May 1948. Eventually, in 1967, she made her way to England, to London. She built a large and loving family. She not only survived but thrived. She had three children, 10 grandchildren, 38 great-grandchildren. In her 100th year, a great-great-grandchild, my nephew. She often said that Jewish babies are the best revenge against the Nazis. That's a short overview of her life story. We can explain how I came into it as well.

Lio: No, I mean, first of all, thanks. It sounds like you're meant to write about it. So maybe that's the next question. I mean, because we know we don't do Holocaust memorials. Each one of those stories is tremendous and so detailed. We just won't have time for anything else if we get into that. But maybe you can fill us in with a few more anecdotes along the way. We're really curious about how you ended up in that story and ended up being where you are today, like a Holocaust educator. You're 21. What's up with that?

Dov: So my great-grandmother spent decades of her life after she moved to the UK. Her husband passed away very young. She began to share her story, going out to schools, universities, workplaces, and even back to the camps on five occasions. Growing up, there was never a moment I didn't know that my great-grandmother was a Holocaust survivor. I always knew the story, but it was more of a cover story. It wasn't the details, not the things she saw with her own eyes. It was more like, "I'm a Holocaust survivor. I was in Auschwitz for four months. They put a number on my arm. This is my number. This is what happened." My mother, younger sister, and youngest brother were murdered, but she didn't tell those raw stories.

During COVID, I saw how difficult it was for her not to be able to go out and share her stories, to do what she loved and fulfill the promise she made in Auschwitz: that if she survived, she would tell the world her story. She fulfilled that promise in a way no one could have imagined, with tremendous energy and courage. So during COVID, I turned to her after a few months of not being able to go out and said, "Let's start using Zoom. You can speak to schools on Zoom." And we did that. I wrote an article for the local Jewish news about Holocaust survivors taking to new forms of media like Zoom to share their stories. One thing led to another, and eventually, I said to her, "Safta"—we used to call her Safta, which means grandmother in Hebrew—"show me some things you have from the time of the Holocaust. I'd love to post them on my social media and show the world."

She rummaged around her cupboards and pulled out a banknote. I asked her, "What's this?" She said, "This is a banknote which a Jewish American liberator gave to me on Friday the 13th of April, 1945, upon liberation from the death march. He wrote a message of goodwill because he wanted me to remember him." He couldn't find a piece of paper, so he used German banknotes and wrote ten words of hope: "The start to a new life, good luck and happiness." He didn't write his name, just his position in the army: assistant to Chaplain Schachter.

I was a young Jewish person growing up in the UK, where the UK was part of the allies who liberated these camps. I had never heard about the kindness of the liberators, the work they did to bring survivors back to life. I said to her, "Safta, I have to share this with the world. I think we can find this soldier." Remember, he hadn't written his name, just his position in the army. The issue was there were plenty of people with that same position. I posted it on Twitter, and within eight hours, two million people had seen it. Within 24 hours, we found the soldier's family. He had passed away a few years earlier, and his wife had passed away just a few months earlier during COVID. But we managed to connect with his family, and it turned into an international hunt for this mystery soldier. A historian recognized his letters and realized who he was.

This showed me, for the first time, the power of social media in sharing her story. Since then, we’ve been sharing her story across news channels, as this made international headlines. A few months later, I suggested to my great-grandmother, "People are going viral for dancing on TikTok. Let's use it to answer questions and provide people an opportunity to ask you about your story, especially during COVID, when they can't meet survivors face to face." She agreed but said, "I'm not dancing." So, we posted important videos. Within three months, we had a million followers. We now have over two million. We had 2.2 million, but lost over 100,000 after October 7th, and that's fine. We've had over a billion views on social media, leading to the writing of our book, "Lily's Promise." It’s about my great-grandmother’s survival, hope, and life before and after the Holocaust. It's about how anyone going through dark times can rebuild. These messages have never been as poignant to the Jews since the Holocaust as they are now. Messages of light, hope, and taking it upon ourselves to share these stories, to ensure we become witnesses, and to stand up to antisemitism today.

Lio: This is, wow, quite a journey. I had a few questions along the way, but you were such a wave, I didn't want to disturb you. I'm curious because Seth and I, we've talked about the Holocaust on a few occasions. I worked on a documentary related to the Holocaust, and we learned a few things that you might not have learned growing up. One, as you said, is the fact there was resistance, right? Another is that when the Holocaust started, Jews were not united at all. There was a bitter divide among the Orthodox in Poland, the assimilationists, and the socialist Zionists. They did not like each other, to say the least. It's reminiscent of what was happening on October 6th in Israel, where everyone was at each other's throats, each certain they had the answer. The crucial question is, what's the lesson from all this? Is it just hope, perseverance, and rising against all odds? Those are important affirmations, but is there a deeper lesson? Is it purely about endurance and optimism? Or is there a deeper reason behind why these things happen and what we need to learn about ourselves and the people around us? Like the people who were your friends one day and turned against you the next. What we’re seeing on October 7th for this new generation is eye-opening. "Wait, how long have you been holding these thoughts about me for being Jewish? And why? Where does that come from?"

Seth: Or were you not thinking those thoughts, and something else, some other influence, came through and changed everything? What is happening here?

Lio: Right. These are the things we are most interested in. If we don't figure this out, we won't be able to solve the next issues.

Seth: Our great-grandkids will write a book about what we went through.

Lio: Exactly. We don't want that. So did she have an explanation for this change of attitude toward the Jews, for this onset of antisemitism, for this unexplained hatred toward Jews? I'm curious.

Dov: It's a difficult question.

Lio: It's going to be easy.

Dov: Of course. And I like challenging questions. I know antisemitism is the oldest form of hatred in the world. They hate us for various reasons: our religion, our ethnicity, our nation-state. They once hated us because we were capitalists, then communists, then rich, then poor; we controlled the media, then we didn't. There are so many reasons. Internal divisions worsen the situation and give the enemy ammunition, but the Nazis' hatred of Jews, and the hatred that has existed for centuries within Europe and across the world, particularly during the Holocaust, isn't directly caused by those divisions. I don't think Hamas invaded because they saw internal divisions and thought that's why they hate Jews. That might have been when they attacked, but I don't think it's the same parallel with the Holocaust. There's a lot to discuss about internal division within the Jewish community, especially during the Holocaust, but in terms of Nazi ideology, it built up over years and decades. There's debate among historians about how ordinary people became Nazis, whether they were willing executioners or just ordinary men influenced by society.

In terms of the message of the Holocaust, there are many lessons to draw. My great-grandmother often didn't provide much insight into this because she was so protected by her parents and community. She didn't face antisemitism in her immediate surroundings, so I don't have that direct insight. But I'd say there are many lessons from the Holocaust. The main question is: how should society act 80 years from now? Will we be proud of how society has moved forward? Or are we resigned to the idea that history goes in cycles, and we don't need to learn from it? Some might say antisemitism will always exist, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't stand up against it. The world must recognize that fascism and extremism are harmful. I like to focus on the positive aspect, as my great-grandmother did. She wanted people to realize that we all go through difficulties. Look at her hardships and how she survived. She continued that unbreakable Jewish chain of building and educating future generations. She touched hundreds of millions of lives and changed them profoundly. We should strive to be role models for society, influencing not just the Jewish community but others too. That's one of the key messages we should take.

Lio: Great. This is lovely. We like that. We're firm believers in being role models.

Seth: And finding anything that works.

Lio: Yes. Our sages, both ancient and modern, Jewish and non-Jewish, say we’re always in the spotlight. The question is, are we truly role models? Jews often say we're not a monolith, but we're perceived as a whole. Is it our size or some inner quality? We can discuss it. But are we genuinely being role models? That’s really the heart of what you just said. Can we honestly say we're role models? Combating hate and all these organizations ganging up on us is a challenging battle. But within our small group, can we manage ourselves better? Realistically, are we role models for the world?

Dov: Again, a good and hard question. I think you're right in that so often we focus on the outside, but we also have to try and be positive influences on the inside. So often it doesn't seem like we are, especially in the current circumstances. I mean, the Jews at the moment are going through difficult times. It's no surprise that there is internal division and that people think we should deal with this in a certain way or another. In a way, it makes sense. But you're right that so often I feel, when I go to Jewish schools and organizations, I look around and say, what are we succeeding in doing? What has the influence been? Why is there still so much internal division? Why are so few young Jews willing to take up this mantle and go out and speak and fight, not just on behalf of the Jewish community, but on behalf of society? Why are there just these few names that have become synonymous when you say Jewish activist, Jewish influencer, especially since October 7? Why are we not training our younger children to do this? That's something I feel strongly about and often speak about.

Lio: And the answer is...

Dov: The answer is… is it money? What's missing? I don't think so. Firstly, I think many Jewish people don't go into it because it's difficult. That's not an answer to why you shouldn't do it. People find it hard to go out and be challenged, especially on national television or during a debate. These aren't easy things, but debating is something synonymous with Jews. I mean, look at our own texts, the Gemara, etc. Judaism is based on arguments. We shouldn't be scared of that. Ultimately, we have a role to play in society to go out and make a positive change. I'm not just speaking about external society; I'm speaking about internal society too. Many people are scared of doing that, and we need to step up as a community. We need to realize that we have a responsibility in this world to make it a better place. No one else is going to do it for us. I think that's a painful but important lesson. My great-grandmother realized that no one else would make sure people remembered the Holocaust. No one stood up for them then, and no one will stand up for us now. It's up to us.

Seth: So why is it such a hard sell?

Dov: So you're saying...

Seth: You know, when your message lands with so many millions of people, did five percent of them take the mantle and go out? You cast a gigantic net, and you might touch someone's heart, but there's a smaller group it really affects, and an even smaller group becomes inspired enough to do something about it. How does this become the same? You asked a question earlier: Was there something specifically about the Germans that made them susceptible to become Nazis? Our feeling is no, it could happen anywhere. Nazism is not a German phenomenon.

Lio: Certain... That expression of the trains being on time and all that, that was German. But not, you know...

Dov: By the way, evil exists in everyone. That's also an important message my grandmother wanted to say. The gas didn't fall from the sky. Auschwitz-Birkenau was not a place created by monsters. These were, by the way, from the most educated and modernized society in the world.

Lio: We talk about it all the time in our podcast, The Jew Function. Just like in America...

Dov: And Britain today, right? Some of the most advanced societies.

Dov: These were doctors, scientists, lawyers, accountants. Dr. Mengele, the infamous angel of death, was a human who decided to conduct gruesome, cruel, inhumane experiments on Jewish people for his own scientific methods, but also because he had this evil inside him. He would go home at the end of the day and spend time with his family. The same goes for Rudolf Hess.

Lio: His house...

Dov: His house was opposite Auschwitz Birkenau crematorium one. Opposite his house was a chimney where hundreds of thousands of Jews were being cremated weekly. He played with the kids in the garden.

Lio: Have you seen the movie?

Dov: Yeah. I mean, these were humans, and we have to remember that this evil can crop up anywhere in society. Back to your question, did it make a difference? I think a number of things did. My grandmother's message to young Jewish children was a message of hope that resonated with millions and changed lives. A small percentage did see what we were doing, were inspired to start their own social media channels, or became witnesses and began sharing her story. I see that all the time. Especially since October 7th, I've been inspired by young Jews who've put themselves on the line to combat antisemitism. It's not enough, and frankly, whenever they're looking for a young Jewish voice in the UK to go on national media, they only come to me. It can’t be that out of 200,000 Jews in the UK, I'm the only one available or willing to speak up? Why are enough people not doing this?

Seth: Have you discovered the answer to that?

Dov: I don't have the answer. Perhaps it's simply that there's no money in this space. You do have to provide for a family. Perhaps the other thing is that people are scared. I mean, I get death threats every day. I get hundreds of antisemitic comments and DMs and get recognized on the streets after being on the news. It's not easy, but nothing worthwhile and rewarding in life is easy.

Lio: By the way, just about the money, I don't think there's a shortage. The other side got close to $400 million in the last five years just for protests. I'm sure all the great Jewish organizations could put their heads together to nurture and raise the next generation of speakers and organizers, like a nation of priests, as we refer to in the Bible. In the modern day, you need to be more than just an influencer; you need to be connected to love and bestow this to the world. I think this is our calling. It's not lucrative, but there is money. Those organizations are hosting lavish congresses, like the elections for the World Zionist Organization. There's no shortage of money among Jewish people.

Dov: I agree. I often speak to Jewish organizations that have raised billions of pounds in the past decade and spent hundreds of billions. I ask them to think about what the gains have been, especially since a lot of money has been wasted on interfaith programs that failed since October 7th. It's money down the drain. Moreover, Jewish messaging has seen ridiculous spending because other Jews are ripping them off. Hundreds of millions have been wasted. We need to get better at directing those funds and nurturing the future generation of leaders, activists, and spokespersons. We need to value people more than we do.

Seth: One of our problems after October 7th is rallying around a problem. The Holocaust, for example, allows us to rally around a problem. Leo just gave an option to be a kingdom of internet priests. But what is the compelling good thing to strive for? If we're educating about the Holocaust or October 7th, that's fine for rejecting the bad. But what inspires a generation towards greatness, to understand who they are and what their role is, beyond defining by tragedy? What compelling ideal can we offer for Jews and the world?

Dov: We shouldn't be defined by our history. It's an important part, both religiously and socially, to know we've been persecuted and that antisemitism is the oldest hatred. But we shouldn't define ourselves by it. We should be proud Jews because of who we are and keep looking forward. I'm not sure I fully understood the question.

Lio: I'll tell you the question. Instead of inspiring activism to avoid the next Holocaust, what is a vision to inspire towards greatness? What state should we reach? Is it the life we know, the routine, or is there a bigger vision we're after?

Seth: Can we offer a vision like becoming a football player like Ronaldo or a singer like Beyoncé? Do you have a compelling future to talk to the Jewish youth about that they can aspire to?

Dov: Firstly, we've lived a golden age of Jewish life for the last 80 years after the Holocaust. Hopefully, the aspiration is to live life as regular Jews, with antisemitism below the surface like before October 7th. In terms of a big aspiration for Jews, maybe people won't like to hear this, but surely the aspiration is to live our lives like everyone else, that each Jew can be what they want to be.

Lio: No, I don't want to cut you off, but… because we ask this question a lot. First of all, going back to anything isn't an option. Nature doesn't move backward. Even to say, hopefully, you can go back, things move in cycles. But really looking forward, it's not just the Jews. Even if you took antisemitism out of the equation, the world is undergoing a big transformation. COVID was a big moment for humanity, but now wars and instability are making us question certainties in politics, education, trade, and family. Big questions arise: what's not working, what should be working, what should we aspire to as humans? And I can't help but feel that we as Jews have a huge, tremendous place in those answers.

Dov: I agree. That's what I was trying to say. Jews have a responsibility to try and improve the world, to make it a better place. That doesn't mean everyone needs to do that, but we need Jewish leaders not only inside the Jewish community, but outside who are going to be spokespersons, speak to people, lead that change from policy positions, their organizations, or as individuals using their voices for good on social media, etc. But my comment, Ari, the other side was, what can the Jewish community, I think, aspire to? Surely the aspiration has to be that we can go back to some sort of normality. Life will not go back to the same way, of course. The world is undergoing major changes across the whole Western world particularly. We should be the ones trying to influence and make the change for good and for positive in society. Some people might not want to do that, but for those that do, the aspiration should be that Jews can live like everyone else in freedom without the fear of persecution.

Seth: Are we like everyone else? This has to be the ground. I mean, we have to be able to walk outside without being killed. There has to be that. But there also has to be more than that. So are we like everyone else?

Lio: No, not anatomically. I mean, you know, like.

Seth: Our role towards humanity.

Lio: Well, I think... Hold on. I'll just add a little preamble to this question to not just drop it on you. But when we did our research, it appears that throughout history, no matter what, Jews were typically singled out. People pointed at us. For better and for worse. Oh, it's the Jews. Or, oh my God, the Jews, they can do this and that. Or it's their fault. It's their responsibility. If this were an equal opportunity civilization, then one generation would be the Jews, then the French, the Cossacks, but it's always the Jews. It kind of begs the question, why? As you said in the very beginning, when we were capitalists, it was capitalism. When we were communists, it was communism. It seems like those are just garments that people threw on us to point at something. But underneath the garment, there was always the same feeling, the same sentiment. Something is up with those people. We were never allowed to fully assimilate. Any other nation, any other group, put them with another group, two generations later, they disappear. Not the Jews. Why is that? It's not even a genetic thing. What's going on here? This disproportionate attention that we get, disproportionate amount of Nobel Prize winners, nothing is statistically balanced about this group. So you could say, well, it's an anomaly. Well, it's a fluke of nature. But, you know, when it's for 2000 years, 3000 years, one might have to stop and say, well, maybe nature is saying something.

Dov: Yeah, I think we're unique in our outlook on the world and our view on the world. That's perhaps more for a rabbi than necessarily for me. But certainly, we are unique in our outlook on the world. That goes back to what I was saying throughout this interview, which is that we believe in making an impact. We believe in being the ones who stand up. My point about going back to just being able to live was more a broader point about Jewish society as a whole, not individuals. Jewish individuals believe in the impact of one person. We believe in promoting and educating young people in a way like no other society does. We believe in that community. We believe in one family, that one Jew from one side of the world to another, who might speak different languages, will help and host another Jew. That's completely unique to any culture in the world. That's why we’ve contributed so much. Perhaps that's led to other societies being jealous and having this unnatural hatred towards Jews. That's more what I meant. But again, that question takes me back to my answer, which is surely, therefore, we as Jewish people are sort of failing at the moment in being that upstanding society, in being the people who want to make a positive change. I don't see enough Jews doing that now. So perhaps maybe I wouldn't say it's changing, but perhaps at this point in history, we're not doing enough.

Seth: So you've been talking to a lot of people, and I'm imagining that as you do that, you're fine-tuning your message. When does it land? How does it land? So Dov, when does it land? When does it reach a person's heart?

Lio: I mean specifically.

Seth: Specifically, not just about the past. How does it land in someone's heart?

Dov: I think my great grandmother's story is important; the reason I'm here and do what I do is because of her story. I often refer to myself as this accidental game changer. I didn't plan to do this; one tweet led to the next. I could have left it as one viral tweet, but I ran with it, and I'm still running with it. It goes back to the quote by Nietzsche: "One who has a why can bear any how." That's the basis that my great-grandmother's story, her positivity, her message of tolerance and hope, resonates with almost every audience I speak to. I tailor my message based on who I'm speaking to. If it's young Jews, I try to share that they have to become the witnesses and take that torch from the survivors and leaders like Rabbi Sacks. It's up to us to take those torches, to run with them, and to pass them on to millions of people across the world. I say to people, it doesn't matter if you have two million followers like me or one follower, you can make a difference.

Lio: Like us.

Dov: You can make a difference, and your voice does matter. Everyone should realize that. The easiest way to demonstrate that is COVID. If one person had COVID, you could infect hundreds of people. It's the exact same thing with your voice, your words, your education, your messages. They can make a difference. That can resonate with anyone, and that's the message I look for.

Seth: I'm interested specifically in the message that is landing with people. For example, when a new song comes out and it's a good song, like you just know it's a hit. What lands with people?

Lio: What is it?

Seth: What lands with the youth? What excites them? What makes them inspired? What are they living for? What do they want answers for?

Dov: I mean, it's difficult. Every person is different.

Lio: I know, I know. Generalize. Generalize.

Seth: Give us a few, three principles. I mean, three things that are going to make a hit message with a young Jew.

Dov: From my great grandmother's story, it's the positivity, the hope, and the power of one person to make a difference. My great grandmother survived the worst hell, came through it, rebuilt, and look how many descendants she had, all unique and powerful in their own way. Then you look at me, who was 16 at the time, and her story has led me to speak in governments, parliaments, and on the biggest news channels and podcasts in the world, including speaking to you. Those are things that resonate with people, the fact that you can make a difference, the principle of an individual realizing that your voice, even just through social media, can reach millions.

Lio: Okay.

Dov: So I want to build on that and bring it home because we're coming to a close. We often ask here, how would you define a Jew to an alien? If an alien ship landed and they asked, "What is this group of people?" People give different answers. There isn't one answer that we got. We got a lot of clueless answers, a few good summaries. I'm curious, if you had to take those principles you said—positivity, the ability of one person to make a difference—and apply it to the specifics of being Jewish, what is it that defines us as Jews which we need to bring to the world? You mentioned seemingly small customs, but I don't think they're small. I think they're huge. When you said the ability of one Jew to talk to another across the world and be almost friends. What are those specific things that define a Jew and that maybe anyone listening can apply, alongside the positivity and the perseverance, but to those qualities that maybe the world is missing?

Dov: I'll take it in steps. First, how would you define a Jew to an alien? Something I've never had to do, but I have had to define Judaism for many people. We Jews share a common and very difficult history. We have a unique culture, religion, and a deep sense of identity, which connects us worldwide. We trace our history back thousands of years amongst the oldest living civilizations today. We track it back to one place, our nation state, Israel, a place where Jews have rebuilt a state. Our beliefs are based on Judaism, a guidebook of law called the Torah, and we are one of, if not the oldest monotheistic religions in history. That's the basic understanding, whether an alien or not would understand that. But being Jewish means more than that. It's an ethno-religion. It doesn't matter if you're Reform, Conservative, Orthodox, ultra-Orthodox, modern Orthodox, observant or not—if your mother was Jewish, you're Jewish. That blood gets passed down as an unbreakable link. Whether you want to be called Jew or not, to the antisemites, they don't care. They'll target you too. But to the Jews, it doesn't matter whether you believe in God or not. You're Jewish because Judaism is not just a religion, it's an ethnicity, a culture, a family. That's what's unique about Judaism. Non-Jews sometimes define themselves as atheists, but there's no atheist in a foxhole. Over history, we Jews have lived through the worst persecution and got through it, rebuilt, adapted to different cultures, maintained our ancient traditions, festivals, and languages. We revived ancient languages into modern languages, revived an ancient state into a modern state, and remember our shared past, which includes incredible suffering but also immense joy. As my great grandmother said, she lived through the greatest hell and the greatest miracle. Ultimately, all that comes together in an immensely unique tapestry to make Jews one of the most unique cultures in the world. Examples like Chabad houses, where you can go anywhere in the world and find kosher food, speak to a rabbi, and have a congregation or community life. People are longing for community, a sense of belonging, searching for meaning. Judaism is all about that. It's about meaning, connection, family, and community. Your world comes in with open arms. It doesn't matter who you are or what you keep; you're still part of that family. One Jew who has never even heard of you, with the hostages for example, with 59 hostages now today, every single Jew, or maybe not everyone, but a vast majority of Jews, know those names. They know the faces. They've been praying for these people every day. That's what Judaism is about. It's about caring for your brother or sister who you've never met, who can live far away from where you do. But you care about them and feel that pain and have that collective sense of mourning, but also of joy. That's why people are often struck by the amount of joy. When you see parades on the street on Purim or Hakhnasat Sefer Torah or any festival, people are struck by that light, by that sense of life.

Seth: What you're saying now, summed up, is like the remedy that everybody needs.

Dov: Yeah, agreed. I think, as I said, the world is searching for this community, is searching for this cohesion, is searching for meaning. The reason why you have so many crazy things in the world is because people want to feel part of their community. They want to feel part of something. So they join these crazy groups or whatever it might be. But you go back hundreds of years, and the world was more of a community. And now it's not. So I think a lot of the remedies for the world can be found in our own Jewish community.

Seth: And it's your job to spread it.

Dov: I try.

Lio: I think it's beautiful because, in the end, even though almost every Holocaust story you hear is about the individual survivor, when you pull back, you realize that it's never just the one. There were always connections along the way that helped that person reach where they are. If they were absent, they too helped him realize that's what was missing. If you read Viktor Frankl's books, you realize that ultimately this is what's hiding behind everything, not just personal strength. People were almost dying there. There was no logic to what was going on. But there was something passing between these things, something you can't really put your finger on. Somehow, all those stories weave together into this sense that there's something holding, propping up this group of people. I think that's the magic we often overlook when things are okay and everybody's just drifting into their own little corner. But when there's pressure, it forces us to rediscover that. I think the fact that we came to that is everything you just said in the end. We're part of this something you can't see or really feel. But eventually, everybody talks about it when the going gets tough. I hope you can maybe I put a quote in the chat for you. Very simple quote from Baal HaSulam, the Kabbalist. We ask our guests to read it. Maybe you can read it, and then we can close with this looking forward.

Dov: I will just add you said each Holocaust story is unique, but it's part of a wider history, as you said. Rabbi Sachs, former chief rabbi of the United Kingdom, speaks about this a lot. He says why is there no word for history in biblical Hebrew? In modern Hebrew also, it's just historia, an English word translated into Hebrew. There's only a word for memory, zakhor. The reason is that history is his story. But in Judaism, there is no his or her story. There's no one story. It's all part of the collective. It's our collective memory, our story, our shared memory. We use zakhor, remembrance, because it's up to all of us to place those individual stories as part of the wider Jewish community's history. We can take those stories, make them part of our beings and our consciousness, and use that for positive change in the world. That's what each of us needs to do. Back to the quote, I think the two connect very well, which is one does not live for oneself but for the whole chain. Thus, each and every part of the chain does not receive the light of life into itself but only distributes the light of life to the whole chain.

Lio: Beautiful. I think this sums it up really nicely. Also, we already passed Passover, but it's like the same thing. You tell the story as if it's happening now to you, right now, right? I think this is the quality that really separates. This is all happening now, and it's happening again and again in the now for us to realize it and make a little psychological switch that we can rise from it. Dov, this was great. Like I said in the very, very beginning, I wish we had more time to hear just more stories from Lily's story. But if not, I urge people to go buy the book and read it, and then invite you over to talk at their synagogue or wherever they are. We can find it on Amazon, right?

Dov: Anywhere, wherever you get books, they have Lily's Promise in stock.

Lio: I get my books from a table at the corner of the street here.

Dov: Maybe not there, but any store.

Lio: Fair enough. We'll put a link in the description to that. Thank you very much, Dov, for making time.

Seth: Good luck with everything. It's wonderful what you're doing.

Lio: Really. I mean, I'm so hopeful every time we meet a young person that speaks this way. There aren't that many, as we said, but those few gems, they give us hope. So thank you. Please keep doing it and we'll stay...

Seth: ...connected. See you success.

Lio: Yes, yes. You're part of our circle, this Unbreakable Jewish Circle. We're The Jew Function. You're now part of that. This is your function in that circle. And we'll see everyone. Please like, share, and subscribe to the content. Leave a review. It really helps. And we'll see you all next time. Take care. Thank you. You too.