Chemnitz contemporary witnesses: Renate Aris

She always had a bit of luck

The pogrom night on 9 November 1938, when synagogues in Germany were set on fire, Jewish shops and private homes were looted and many Jews were arrested, was a turning point in the life of three-year-old Renate. "That was the release of the Jews as fair game."

An incisive experience that was to be followed by others. Renate Aris is one of the last people in Saxony to survive the Holocaust. More than 20 of her family members were killed in concentration camps or perished on death marches. Some are missing.

She speaks about her life to various groups from all parts of society - from church congregations to universities - and young people from well over 500 schools alone have listened to her. "This is very important. In all sections of society, from young schoolchildren to professors, the lack of knowledge about National Socialism and the Holocaust is frightening."

"Well, they missed the mark."

Renate Aris was born in Dresden in August 1935, on the same day as Honecker, she says, smiling mischievously. She grew up in Briesnitz, in an atmosphere of harassment that culminated in hostility. "We didn't have a childhood - because of all the pogroms." Jews had already been stripped of their citizenship. One ban after another followed, and people of Jewish faith were gradually pushed out of public life: they were not allowed to go to the theatre or cinema, or even sit on a bench in the park. "There was always something else," says Renate Aris. They even had to give up their bicycles. "That was difficult for us children. We weren't allowed to do anything. And the worst thing was: from 1941, we were no longer allowed to go to school."

This was followed by occupational bans and the wearing of the yellow star from 1941, the year her father had to do forced labour. "The circumstances were terrible," recalls Renate Aris of her permanently tired father. But her mother worked at a greengrocer's, so the family had a few more cabbages. Ration cards have long been the new currency, but with the stamp "Jew" they are practically worthless. What's more, shops were no longer allowed to sell to Jews.

But Renate Aris is not bitter. "Lucky circumstance" or "We were lucky", she often says. For example, when she recounts how she fled into a house with other children - illegally playing with them - during a low-altitude air raid and met an older man there. "I can still see him in front of me, long beard." He sees her star, grabs her by the collar, throws her into the street and says: "They can shoot you." "Well," says Renate Aris today. "They missed."

The same goes for the fact that her mother did not convert to Judaism after her marriage and the family did not have to move into a Jewish house until the end. The other parties in the apartment block tolerated this. "We were lucky."

And then Dresden experienced the attack of 13 February 1945, when hardly a house in the family's neighbourhood was destroyed, but the city burned. It was Shrove Tuesday and Renate Aris' father had to go to the office. He is ordered to take the children to Theresienstadt concentration camp on 16 February. But her mother says: "I won't let my children go to their deaths. We're escaping." She runs into the city. In front of a friend's house, she sees her lying dead, beaten to death, along with her two children. "My mother decided at that moment: We'll take the name. That's what you'll be called from now on,' says Aris, looking back. Of course, the girl already knew the commandment 'Thou shalt not lie'.

"They smell good, the apples"

The attack cost the lives of around 30,000 people. But the chaos, the broken railway tracks that made transport to Theresienstadt impossible, saved the lives of Renate Aris and her family. The mother flees through the city with her son and daughter. "The corpses were piled up on the Altmarkt, bodies burnt beyond recognition. The piles were set on fire, but we had to cross them first. Those are childhood memories."

The three of them stayed with acquaintances at the Weißer Hirsch, who hid them until 7 May. In a dressing room, behind a shelf full of winter apples. The danger was not yet over, the Nazis were looking for the 60 Jews who were to be sent to the concentration camp on 16 February. They scoured the house and stood in front of the shelf. "They smell good, the apples," Renate Aris hears the men say. They leave. "We were lucky again, the apples saved our lives."

A few months after the end of the war, Renate Aris and her brother go to school for the first time, straight into fourth grade. The home schooling that their parents had given them for years had worked: shortly afterwards, they moved up a class. They both transferred to grammar school and her brother went on to study economics. Renate Aris, however, wanted to go into the theatre; costumes were her passion. She began training as a dressmaker, which was abruptly interrupted: Two days after her 17th birthday, her mother died suddenly. Renate Aris later completed her apprenticeship and graduated from the master craftsman's academy in 1958.

She joins the Elbe-Elster Theatre in Wittenberg via the Junge Generation Theatre in Dresden, where she heads the costume department. But her spine is injured in a road accident and the days of carrying heavy costumes and bolts of fabric are over. Just at this time, the largest colour television studio of GDR television is being built in Chemnitz, in the Kulturpalast in Reichenbrand. There it is again, that happiness. Renate Aris remains head of the costume department at the Dresden, Leipzig and Chemnitz studios until 1990.

She has lived in Chemnitz for 54 years. But her hometown is and remains Dresden. "Dresden is a beautiful city. But you can live anywhere, you just have to get involved and not wait for someone else to do something." This is where she has her garden and her flat. "You know, the people of Dresden don't walk across the Brühlsche Terrasse every day either."

Soon after her arrival, she became active in the Jewish community, but reportedly remained in the community in Dresden, of which her father was the chairman for a long time. It was not until 1987, when she had already been living in Chemnitz for 17 years, that Renate Aris joined the community. At that time, the congregation had twelve members. Renate Aris was deputy chairwoman of the Chemnitz Jewish community for 15 years, which today has over 500 members. In 1999, she founded the Jewish Women's Association, which she still heads today. But they are few and the few are old. "The young people no longer have time for anything," Aris regrets.

What does Renate Aris want from the younger generation? "That they make the effort and delve into the history of our country, into the Nazi era. And when there are discussions: Don't listen away, but face up to it with the knowledge you have."

Renate Aris repeatedly approaches people who harbour prejudices against Jews. "They are then quite surprised that I am just like them. You just have to talk to them properly. This strange image of Jews only exists in people's heads." Renate Aris is not afraid of such conversations. "Oh, you know, anyone who survived the Holocaust shouldn't be afraid."

On the occasion of her 90th birthday, Renate Aris signed the Golden Book of the City of Chemnitz. Lord Mayor Sven Schulze honoured her decades-long commitment as one of the last contemporary witnesses to speak tirelessly to school classes and young people.