Madam President, during World War II, some 23,000 Roma were sent to Auschwitz, mostly from Germany, Austria, and the occupied Czech lands. Sixty Years ago, on the night of August 2 and 3, the order was given to liquidate the “Gypsy Camp” at Auschwitz. Over the course of that night, 2,898 men, women, and children were put to death in the gas chambers. In all, an estimated 18,000 Roma died at Auschwitz-Birkenau.
During the intervening years, Aug. 2 and 3 have become days to remember the Porrajmos, the Romani word that means “the Devouring,” and to mourn the Romani losses of the Holocaust.
As the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum has suggested, Roma are “understudied victims” of the Nazis. What we don’t know about the Romani experiences during the war is far greater than what is known.
But we do know that the fate of the Roma varied from country to county, and depended on many factors. We know that, in addition to the atrocities in Auschwitz, thousands of Roma were gassed at Chelmno. We know that an estimated 90 percent of Croatia’s Romani population–tens of thousands of people–was murdered. We know that approximately 25,000 Roma were deported by the Romanian regime to Transnistria in 1942, where some 19,000 of them perished there in unspeakable conditions. We know that in many places, such as Hungary, Roma were simply executed at the village edge and dumped into mass graves. We know that in Slovakia, Roma were put into forced labor camps, and that in France, Roma were kept in internment camps for fully a year after the war ended.
Still, far more research remains to be done in this field, especially with newly available archives like those from the Lety concentration camp in the Czech Republic. I commend the Holocaust Museum for the efforts it has made to shed light on this still dark corner of the past, and I welcome the work of nongovernmental organizations, such as the Budapest-based Roma Press Center, for collecting the memories of survivors.
I do not think I can overstate the consequences of the Porrajmos. Some scholars estimate that as many as half of Europe’s Romani minority perished. For individuals, for families, and for surviving communities, those losses were devastating. Tragically, the post-war treatment of Roma compounded one set of injustices with others. Those who were most directly involved in developing the Nationalist-Socialist framework for the racial persecution of Roma–Robert Ritter and Eva Justin–were never brought to justice for their crimes and were allowed to continue their medical careers after the war. The investigative files on Ritter–including evidence regarding his role in the forced sterilization of Roma–were destroyed. German courts refused to recognize, until 1963, that the persecution of Roma based on their ethnic identity began at least as early as 1938. By the time of the 1963 ruling, many Romani survivors had already died.
During my years of service on the leadership of the Helsinki Commission, I have been struck by the tragic plight of Roma throughout the OSCE region. It is not surprising that, given the long history of their persecution, Roma continue to fight racism and discrimination today. I commend Slovakia for adopting comprehensive antidiscrimination legislation in May. As the OSCE participating states prepare for a major conference on racism, discrimination, and xenophobia, to be held in September, I hope they will be prepared to address the persistent manifestations of racism against Roma–manifestations that often carry echoes of the Holocaust.
