Wednesday, 28 January 2026

Erased: A Tale of One Book, Two Letters and Three Libraries

 

St. George's Hall, Liverpool
Colin Lane/Liverpool Echo 

It is Holocaust Remembrance Week 2026 in Liverpool. The 27th was the actual day. The day when prominent buildings around the Western world are bathed in purple at night; when descendants of survivors go into schools and take to the airwaves to remind us that unspeakable things happened in Europe generations ago, that we must never forget, and that “never again” must it happen. They tell us with great urgency that the scourge of anti-Semitism is as strong as ever, as evidenced by massacres in Manchester, Sydney and elsewhere.



This was the week that Prof. Eve Rosenhaft chose to launch for the first time a new book she has edited for the widow of a remarkable man wanting to share her late husband’s story. Ronald Roberts, the Lad Who Outwitted the Nazis: From Weimer Germany to Windrush Britain is about a man born of a Black (Barbadian) father and a White German mother in Germany in 1921. The title alone indicates that this is one hell of a story, and having read from it in draft form, I was thrilled when Professor Rosenhaft engaged me to read extracts from the finished book, which draws from personal testimony, including many, many letters. We learn for example that in 1940, Ronnie had been captured by the Gestapo, held in an internment camp at Wülzburg, made three futile escape attempts, but was finally liberated by the British Army in 1945. One of the letters recalls his time working in a British-run camp in Judenburg, Austria, not long after:

 

One day with about one hundred and fifty Jews in the camp, the colonel said to me, “Ron there will be some movement in the camp tonight, don’t let it concern you.”  By then we were good friends. I knew what was going to happen. The next morning all the Jews were missing. The Jewish Brigade had arrived in the night and loaded all the Jews onto lorries and taken them away. The Colonel made a phone call to Headquarters reporting the missing Jews and replaced the phone with a big grin on his face.

It was an illegal movement in those days, well according to the British, but if those people wanted to go to Palestine I wasn’t going to stop them, and certainly not the Colonel. The Colonel and I became lifelong friends until his death in the 1970s. He was a wonderful man.

 

A wonderful man indeed, helping persecuted people escape to safety.



Marx Memorial Library, London.

Last week, I was privileged to honour another wonderful man - Paul Robeson - at the Marx Memorial Library in London. He died on January 23, fifty years ago, and on the 20th, the library invited the public to see a display of items from their collection relating to him. One I saw was a letter from a young Scottish man writing home from the battlefield during the Spanish Civil War. Toward the end, he wrote:

Yesterday afternoon we had the pleasure of a visit from Paul Robeson, his wife & Charlotte Haldane. Robeson rendered to us many of his songs, but he gave “Ole Man River” to new words, words of hope & struggle & not of as in the past defeatism & helplessness. Charlotte Haldane brought us news of the British Labour movement & the encouraging interest now being taken in the struggle against fascism in Spain.

 

The library folks had invited me to contribute to their event with some words and music. It was truly an honour to be able to recount how Robeson had literally taken over my life since 1995, and how one particular episode in his life in particular has uncanny and troubling parallels with today. On a tour of Europe in 1949, he made a speech in Paris which would pave the way for his government to silence the former national treasure. He had discussed the absurdity of African Americans, second-class citizens in their country, fighting against the Soviet Union, where he had been treated like a real person for the first time in his life. The press distorted his speech, suggesting that he said he loved the Soviet Union more than America, and by the time he got back home later that year, he was Public Enemy #1. The campaign against him reached its climax at the Peekskill, NY where a concert had to be cancelled because of violence, and the rescheduled concert days later was followed by more violence. The infamous Peekskill riots showed his country at its most anti-Black, ant-Communist and anti-Semitic as it ever was, at its most fascist, until now.


Robeson’s wife was part-Jewish, and his son married a Jewish woman. He spoke Hebrew and Yiddish. The hatred being shown toward him and Jews would have hurt all the more as a result. Just as his own father and millions after him had fled North from the Southern states in search of safety, he understood and supported the desire for Jews to find a haven away from their persecutors in Europe, and, as the Peekskill example showed, America.

 

Coming so soon after speaking and singing at the Robeson event at the Marx Memorial Library, participation in two launches of the Ronald Roberts book was going to be part of a wonderful, meaningful start to 2026. After Toxteth Library in Liverpool on Jan 29, the second place I would be reading Ronald Roberts’s words at was going to be the Wiener Holocaust Museum in London.


Wiener Holocaust Museum

Was; because alas, I was told I would no longer be welcome there, and my details were erased from the publicity. The reason? Palestine. Or specifically, Palestine Action, and my avowed support for the non-violent direct action campaign group opposing the genocide in Palestine. I had told Eve to let them know of my previous pro-Palestine activity for the sake of openness, but that turned out to be a mistake.

 

In the same way as Ronald Roberts was asked not to see Jews being helped to escape to Palestine from Austria in 1945, some descendants of Holocaust survivors are asking us not to see what other descendants are doing in Gaza or the West Bank, or in the rest of the Middle East and beyond.

I - and thousands of others - have however chosen not to look away, not to remain passive. Many of us (Jews included) have been arrested. Some have been imprisoned. Some have almost died from hunger strikes as a result of their illegal, harsh treatment by the British state. Some have lost jobs for wearing, instead of purple, the Palestinian colours of red, black, green and white at work. To be cancelled from reading from a book telling a wonderful Black man’s story of survival in fascist times is a small price to pay by comparison.

 

Auckland War Memorial Museum lighting after action by pro-Palestine activists. NZ Herald

Maybe one day, some eighty years from now, someone will stand in a Palestine Genocide Library in a Gaza still being rebuilt from the rubble, and read or sing the words of another Black man who in 2026 penned these words in a song about his own strange times:

 

When the oppressed becomes the oppressor
We’ll still find Paul on the right side
In his rich bass voice he’d declare
I’ll be no part of your genocide
I’ll be no part of your genocide

 From: Wake Up, America! (A Lament for Paul Robeson), a song commemorating the 50th anniversary of Paul Robeson’s death, premiered online on January 23, 2026.


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