If the legacy of the Nazi death camps of World War II hangs over Europe, a lesser-known camp network was born after the war with a diametrically opposed vision: to breathe new life into traumatized populations.
Established by the victorious Allies, the Internally Displaced Persons (DP) camps housed around 250,000 people in the immediate post-war period. Located in Germany, Austria and Italy, these camps served as “temporary homelands in exile, divided by nationality, with their own police forces, churches and synagogues, schools, newspapers, theaters and infirmaries,” writes historian David Nasaw.
Although the IDP camps were ephemeral in design – their mostly Jewish occupants later settled in the United States, Israel, and elsewhere – they served as key sites for post-Holocaust regeneration. From 1946 to 1948, the birth rate in IDP camps was among the highest in the world.
“These camps facilitated the return to health and life of the Jews,” said David Silberklang, senior historian at the Yad Vashem International Holocaust Research Institute. “For most of them, the house is gone – the concept of a house is gone – and that’s what they’re trying to put in place. Former displaced people and their descendants are now returning to the sites to pay tribute to the communities that thrived there after great losses.
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A rocky start
The chaos of World War II left populations scattered across Europe. Although Allied officials helped many displaced people return to their countries of origin, a smaller group – referred to as “non-repatriable” – remained, made up of people who did not want to return to their former homeland. Many of these “non-returnees” were Jews from Eastern Europe, who knew they risked facing anti-Semitic attacks if they returned home.
When the Allies first established camps to house the displaced, living conditions were grim. Residents received insufficient food rations and often did not have enough clothing or medical supplies. “As it stands, we seem to treat Jews like the Nazis treated them, except we don’t exterminate them,” Earl G. Harrison, US delegate to the Intergovernmental Committee on Refugees, wrote to US President Harry. S. Truman. after inspecting IDP camps in 1945.
After Harrison’s jarring tour of inspection, Truman, Allied officials and groups like the International Refugee Organization worked to improve conditions in the camps. Rations have increased and medical aid has become more accessible. In addition, rather than housing internally displaced people of different origins together – a practice that sparked conflict – the Allies began to establish all-Jewish camps for internally displaced persons.
Some of the hundreds of IDP camps, such as Bergen-Belsen, were former concentration camps. Others, like the Bad Reichenhall camp, had been Nazi military installations. After Bad Reichenhall became a camp for internally displaced people, administrators removed a swastika symbol near the camp gate and put up a large sign with the Hebrew word “tikvah”, which means hope.
Rebuild from trauma
Once conditions at the sites stabilized, the IDP camps proved to be important incubators for post-war Jewish culture. Teachers created schools and artists organized theater and comedy performances. The camps also fueled the Zionist movement which is said to help thousands of Jewish survivors to start afresh in the nation of Israel.
Throughout the existence of the camps, however, residents have struggled with their own demons. Many suffered symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of what happened to them and their families during the Holocaust.
“There is a sense of hopelessness and sadness in this seemingly inexpressible camp,” said Eleanor Roosevelt after a visit to the Zeilsheim IDP camp just outside of Frankfurt, Germany. “An old woman knelt on the ground, gripping my knees. I lifted her up, but I couldn’t speak. What could one say at the end of a life which had brought him such complete despair?
Yet amid the lingering trauma, residents have found ways to create new sparks of life. Thousands of people fell in love and married in a short time, and nurseries in IDP camps quickly filled with newborn babies. “It’s an incredible phenomenon to see massive numbers of people meet, get married and have children right away,” says Silberklang. “After everything they’ve been through, they don’t despair of the world – they want to bring more life to the world.”
Confronted with the loss of their family and their community, the internees also launched projects that gave them meaning. Some created camp diaries to keep people abreast of world events, while others created legal committees to bring Nazi criminals to justice.
” We had to do something. You were busy doing things, ”remembers survivor Eliezer Adler. These all-consuming activities helped residents distance themselves from the trauma they faced, at least temporarily. “In oblivion,” says Adler, “the ability to create new life.”
Perhaps because of this, some residents later had fuzzy memories of their time in the camps. When Ze’ev Sharon from Haifa, Israel, asked her mother what life was like in the Bad Reichenhall IDP camp, “she said, ‘I don’t know. We just lived there, ”recalls Sharon. “I said, ‘But you’ve been here for two years. Can’t remember what you did? And she said, ‘I don’t remember.’ “
A post-war diaspora and a permanent legacy
The populations of the IDP camps steadily declined after the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948. About two-thirds of the residents of the IDP camps left for Israel, while the rest settled in other countries starting to admit more refugees, such as the United States, Canada and Australia. The last remaining IDP camp, in Föhrenwald, Germany, closed in 1957.
More than 60 years after the camps were closed, research communities around the world, many of whom have family ties to the sites, continue to carry on their history. They visit camps and share information in online forums to help interested readers plan trips. Among these scholars is Ze’ev Sharon, born to Polish Jews in Bad Reichenhall. He went there several years ago in the hope of better understanding where he came from.
When Sharon first saw the Bad Reichenhall site as an adult, he was struck by how similar it looked to old black and white photos he had seen. The windows of the barracks were the same, as were the ridges of the mountains that rose in the background.
“I found it with very little change,” says Sharon. “It’s fascinating to see history still waiting for you.” He found the stable where his mother and father may have lived, and he found his birth certificate in the city archives. He also saw a German commemorative plaque to the thousands of Jews who had passed through the site.
Families like Sharon honor IDP camp sites as critical starting points – places where people who once hoped simply to survive could envision a real future for the first time in years.
“The Allies created spaces where these people could be, and they were looking to help them get on with their lives,” says Silberklang. “There was a desire to maintain the temporary as a stepping stone towards the permanent. “