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Posted on Nov. 03, 2003
Taking the Last Chance
BY GEOFFREY VASILIAUSKAS
A project offering rewards to residents
of the Baltic states for tips on Nazi collaborators
prompts a predictable wave of sometimes anti-Semitic
protest but also, surprisingly, two dozen murder investigations
As a young girl early in World War II, Eleonora Vilcinskiene
saw how Lithuanian militias committed atrocities against
Jews even before the Germans arrived in 1941. In her
home town of Rosikis, members of the local “Lithuanian
Self-Defense battalion” marched their Jewish neighbors
into deep mud, buried them up to their necks and cut
off their beards with a long blade used to slaughter
pigs, tortured them for two weeks and then murdered
them. Today, Vilcinskiene, aging and in poor health,
says she remembers everything and that “the guilty
must answer.”
But Vilcinskiene is one of a small minority. Most Lithuanians
are totally opposed to efforts to bring to justice those
of their countrymen who took an active part in the murder
of Jews, and independent Lithuania has not sentenced
a single person to date in connection with the wholesale
slaughter of all but 8,000 of the 220,000-strong Jewish
population under Nazi occupation. Indeed, Lithuanians
complain they are being held collectively responsible
for what they claim were the actions of a few criminals,
and there is almost total denial of any wider Lithuanian
role.
Just over a year ago, the Simon Wiesenthal Center —
in cooperation with the Targum Shlishi Foundation headed
by Miami-based Jewish philanthropist Aryeh Rubin —
announced Operation Last Chance, offering rewards of
$10,000 for information leading to the conviction of
any Holocaust criminal in the Baltic states. But after
the media carried SWC’s offer, websites were swamped
with record numbers of anti-Semitic comments and angry
attacks on Ephraim Zuroff, the head of the SWC in Jerusalem,
who had launched Last Chance at a press conference here
in the Lithuanian capital.
Last April, SWC issued eased terms for collecting a
reward — $1,000 for information leading to an
official investigation, an additional $1,500 for an
indictment served against a suspect able to stand trial,
and the remaining $7,500 for conviction and punishment.
This prompted another rash of internet comments, with
references to Jews as cockroaches and elaborate theories
of international Jewish conspiracy. Several comments
likened anyone accepting the SWC offer to Judas.
Quite apart from the ongoing absence of reflection or
regret in Lithuania over the murderous role some of
its citizens played in the Holocaust, there is also
a longstanding myth that during the era of Soviet occupation
— before and after the Nazi 1941-44 period —
most native Communists were Jews and that the Jews committed
genocide against the Lithuanian nation through deportations
to Siberia and summary executions. The combination is
a recipe for continued widespread hate and misunderstanding
of the Jews.
In this context, even the limited results of Operation
Last Chance are remarkable. The SWC has received leads
to about 241 possible suspects — 184 from Lithuania,
38 from Latvia, six from Estonia and even 13 from Ukraine,
which wasn’t initially included in the scope of
the operation. In turn, the SWC has submitted 32 names
to prosecutors in Lithuania, 13 to the U.S. and 10 to
Latvia. Official murder investigations of 24 suspects
have now been initiated in Lithuania. And this has now
prompted the SWC to expand the project to Poland, Romania
and Austria. Still, the Lithuanian prosecutor in charge
of Holocaust and war-crimes cases, Rimvydas Valentukevicius,
told The Jerusalem Report that Lithuanian police and
security agencies are having trouble locating the people
named in many of the SWC tip-offs.
The SWC is offering total confidentiality to those submitting
information. If indictments are served, said Valentukevicius,
the judges will have discretion as to whether to hold
public or closed trials. He had no plans for a witness-protection
scheme, but did not rule this out. “We’ve
had two of these cases go to trial so far,” he
said — referring to pre-Operation Last Chances
cases against former Lithuanian State Security Department
officials and alleged Nazi collaborators Aleksandras
Lileikis and Kazys Gimzauskas — “and there
wasn't any need for it then.”
(Lileikis and Gimzauskas were both stripped of U.S.
citizenship in 1996 for lying on their naturalization
forms. Lileikis was chief of the Vilnius section of
the Lithuanian State Security Department, Saugumas,
and Gimzauskas served as a deputy. Lileikis died in
2000, having been indicted only after it was clear he
was medically unfit to stand trial for war crimes. In
February 2001, a Lithuanian court convicted Gimzauskas
of collaborating with the Nazis to murder Jews, but
ruled he wasn’t mentally competent to face sentencing.)
While the offer of a $10,000- or even a $1,000-reward
might seem alluring — the average Lithuanian monthly
wage is about $250 — Simonas Alperavicius, head
of the Lithuanian Jewish Community, which is an address
for Operation Last Chance callers, says that most of
those who have come forward with information are not
interested in the money, and this is confirmed by the
informants themselves, who say they simply want to see
justice finally done.
For instance, Justinas Jokubaitis of Klaipeda (formerly
the city of Memel, in German East Prussia, but part
of inter-war independent Lithuania), says the money
was not an inducement — even though his monthly
pension is only some $100. Jokubaitis, who claims to
have witnessed atrocities against Jews, says he came
forward because there is so much talk about Soviet deportations
of Lithuanians but total silence on the fate of the
Jews.
At the initial press conference last year, Zuroff noted
that Nazi collaborators were dying off, as were witnesses,
and this could be the “last chance” (hence
the title of the project) to bring prosecutions. But
most Lithuanians who care even to discuss the issue
contend that all Holocaust crimes were thoroughly investigated
by the Soviet tribunals, all perpetrators were brought
to justice long ago, and Zuroff is beating a dead horse.
Most responsible scholars, however, say the Soviet Holocaust
trials were inadequate — show trials in the true
sense of the word, aimed at doing away with potential
political troublemakers. Liudas Truska and a small number
of Lithuanian historians, working under the umbrella
of the Lithuanian government's Commission for Assessing
the Crimes of the Nazi and Soviet Occupations, are consolidating
materials deconstructing long-held Lithuanian notions
such as that myth, still espoused by the younger generation
of nationalist Lithuanian historians, of Lithuanian
Jews committing genocide against the Lithuanian nation
after the introduction of Soviet power. Scholars on
the commission also note that the Lithuanian exile community
in North America condemned the Soviet trials in the
1950s, saying that only independent Lithuanian judges
could try cases of war crimes on Lithuanian territory.
Vilcinskiene, a witness at those Soviet trials who,
at age 15, says she saw her Jewish neighbors killed
by her Lithuanian neighbors in the northern town of
Rokiskis, insists that the Soviet authorities ignored
her testimony, and that a number of those she saw murdering
Jews later became important officials in the Soviet
hierarchy. “Those same people, the partisans who
are raised up as heroes by our government today, they
committed murder,” protests Vilcinskiene.
In 1996 Vilcinskiene told her story again to Alperavicius,
whose community organization represents Lithuania's
3,000 or so remaining Jews. And she contacted the SWC
via the Lithuanian State Jewish Museum in Vilnius, which
took her testimony last fall. Special prosecutor Valentukevicius
visited her in May to take formal testimony. “They
say they’re all dead now,” she continues,
referring to the common perception of the perpetrators,
“but I don’t think so. I have this feeling
some of them are still alive. As long as Lithuania doesn’t
come to terms with this dark part of its history, the
country can’t move on.”
Zuroff echoes the sentiment, saying he saw how a single
successful prosecution in Croatia — that of Dinko
Sakic, commandant of the Jasenovac concentration camp,
jailed for 20 years in 1999 for responsibility for the
murder of thousands of camp inmates — can change
public opinion. “I am hoping that powerful eyewitnesses
and good evidence will help educate the Lithuanian public
about the events of the Holocaust and the need for the
country to confront its past,” he states.
But critics of Operation Last Chance are not only the
cyber riffraff, as Alperavicius calls the authors of
some rabidly anti-Semitic comments on the Lithuanian
Internet. At least one Lithuanian parliamentarian has
called for Zuroff to be declared persona non grata,
for allegedly inciting anti-Semitism during his visits.
And, however surprisingly, Operation Last Chance enjoys
only very limited open support even among local Jews.
In fact, some of the internet critiques came from self-described
Jews, blasting Zuroff for souring Jewish-Lithuanian
relations.
Lithuanian philosopher, TV personality and author of
“The Vanished World of Lithuanian Jews,”
Leonidas Donskis, who describes himself as an assimilated
Jew and a child of Holocaust survivors, says the Lithuanian
public reaction is understandable, in that it looks
like SWC is trying to buy justice. “There are
very few, if any, Holocaust deniers in Lithuania,”
he says. “The stance of the vast majority of Lithuanians
could best be described as a kind of defensiveness about
an inconvenient past,” he asserts, adding that
it will take decades for Lithuania to come to terms
with its painful history. Still, Donskis says he takes
some consolation from the fact that Lithuania has done
more than Latvia or Estonia to change the curriculum
in high schools — to introduce new teaching programs
in Holocaust studies.
Dovid Katz, a Brooklyn-born, Vilnius-based professor
of Yiddish language, literature and culture, opposes
the project because of what he calls the “position
and sensitivities of the older Jewish community here,
the survivor community... They deserve to live out their
days in tranquillity and peace,” he says. Initiatives
relating to the past need to be pursued in a way that
does not “cause resentments — now, at this
hour, when we need to be building bridges.”
Alperavicius, of course, strongly disagrees, saying
this is a simple matter of justice. He adds that he’s
probably the only Jew in Lithuania to publicly support
Zuroff. Many others, he suggests, “are probably
afraid. But I’m not.” Taking the opposite
tack to Katz regarding the interests of elderly Jews,
he adds: “I’m old, there's nothing left
to be afraid of.”
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