A white African experience of identity, survival and holocaust memory.
Gehrmann, Richard
Introduction
While Jewish identity can be expressed in Jewish languages, this is
only possible for authors who speak and write these languages. This
option may no longer exist for those who are assimilated or who have
been hidden, and writing in another's language can even contribute
to obscuring the significance of Jewish identity in a text. In
conjunction with the themes of white African memoir and a critique of
the excesses of the despotic Zimbabwean government, Peter Godwin's
memoir When a Crocodile Eats the Sun also reveals the Jewish identity of
his family. His father was Kazimierz Goldfarb, a Polish Jew sent to
school in England before the Second World War. Following the Holocaust
he concealed his past, reinventing himself as George Godwin, a British
immigrant to southern Africa, and he successfully maintained his
British-Rhodesian persona until his late 70s.
George had concealed his Jewish identity to ensure his children
would be spared the slightest risk of ever sharing the tragic fate of
his sister and mother in Poland, but the decision to acknowledge his
past was motivated by the desire to explain their family origin, and
also to have his son Peter search for information on the deaths of
George's family in Nazi-occupied Poland. Peter becomes his
father's researcher and amanuensis, and finally his legatee, as he
imperceptibly realises the story is not just his father's but that
of his own new identity.
While the discovery of Jewish heritage was a surprise to Peter
Godwin who previously thought of himself as a white African expatriate,
there was a strong southern African Jewish community that his father
could well have chosen to become part of, and this community has
developed and maintained its own particular cultural identity (Shain
2011). Jews played an important part in southern African economic and
cultural life, and individual members of the southern African Jewish
community have on occasion adopted high profile political roles. (1)
While now statistically insignificant, even in 1969 at the apogee
of white Rhodesia (2) the Jewish population was never large in
comparison with the far more significant South African Jewish
community-Rhodesian Jews numbered only 5,194 in a population of 5
million, and constituted only 2.28% of the white population of 228,296
Europeans (Godwin and Hancock 1995:19). Peter Godwin had never thought
of himself as being Jewish, and his previous books had not reflected any
interest in the small Jewish minority of Rhodesia or Zimbabwe.
The author Peter Godwin is a New York-based journalist who
described his own experiences of growing up in white-ruled Rhodesia in
his first volume of autobiography Mukiwa: A White Boy in Africa, and
this provides the background for When a Crocodile Eats the Sun. Godwin
was raised in semirural Rhodesia by his politically liberal engineer
father and doctor mother, and the opening chapters of this first memoir
provide an engaging account of a happy childhood in an interesting
locale. His mother's work with African patients and his
father's occupation gave him a relatively high degree of exposure
to black African life, although this did of course come from the
perspective of their membership of the small group of privileged
Europeans who were outnumbered by other population groups at a ratio of
21 to 1 (Godwin and Hancock 1995:16).
Under Prime Minister Ian Smith Rhodesia had unilaterally declared
independence from Great Britain in 1965, and until 1980 European (3)
dominated governments controlled a relatively prosperous country where
the nation's resources were unequally distributed according to
ethnicity. European males were conscripted to fight a growing African
nationalist insurgency, and although Godwin's parents were
politically opposed to Ian Smith's regime, they believed their son
should contribute to society by meeting his conscription obligations and
serving in the security forces, just as they had in Britain during the
Second World War.
Godwin describes his military experiences in an increasingly nasty,
brutal, and unwinnable conflict before he departs to study law at
Cambridge University at the conclusion of his military service. When his
elder sister Jain and her fiance are tragically killed by government
forces at a checkpoint shooting, Peter Godwin returns to Rhodesia, only
to be called up for further duty with the security forces. At the
conclusion of this second period of military duty, he returns to the
United Kingdom and begins doctoral research which contributes to
Rhodesians Never Die, his co-authored (with Ian Hancock) academic social
history of the white Rhodesia community. Godwin works in Zimbabwe as a
human rights lawyer during Robert Mugabe's 1980s suppression and
massacre of his Ndebele political opponents, before leaving to become an
expatriate journalist. His life and experiences are recounted from his
perspective as a British-Rhodesian middleclass educated white African of
liberal sympathies, with no hint of any Jewish identity.
This article examines his second book of memoir When a Crocodile
Eats the Sun. The memoir's prologue describes the cremation of the
author's father, George Godwin, and from this, the reader thinks
they know how the story ends, but there is a subtle and unseen dimension
to this cremation story that lies dormant until the book's
conclusion. This book reviews the decline and collapse of the Zimbabwean
post independence settlement, from the relative prosperity of 1996 to
the abject poverty and degradation of 2006, interposed with the
author's discovery of his father George Godwin's hidden Jewish
ancestry.
While the repression of democracy and the multiracial Movement for
Democratic Change is a theme of the book, a more significant subject of
this work is the government-sponsored land invasions, in which formerly
white owned farms were expropriated by landless Africans, so-called war
veterans, government supporters and officials. (4) By this time many
white Zimbabweans had undergone complex and contested transitions of
identity as their sense of being evolved from that of British colonial
settlers to Rhodesians and after independence to white Zimbabweans
(Godwin and Hancock 1995; Alexander 2004; Hughes 2010). (5) The validity
of this white Zimbabwean identity would be challenged by government
attacks and denunciation. Like many Zimbabweans of all ethnic groups,
Peter Godwin has become an expatriate, and the revelation of Jewish
heritage adds a further dimension to his already complex hybrid
identity, an identity informed by multiple expulsions.
The genre of white African memoir
While the discovery of hidden Jewish identity has been a phenomenon
in post Cold War Eastern Europe and in the United States (Kessel 2000;
Muller-Paisner 2002), this genre did not frame the critical reception of
When a Crocodile Eats the Sun and an understanding of the genre of white
African memoir is important to appreciate the way the issue of Jewish
identity and experience were disregarded and marginalised. Within the
Zimbabwe and Rhodesian white memoir tradition, writing includes general
accounts of life in Africa as well as soldiers' stories (6) of the
Rhodesian Bush War or Second Chimurenga. (7) This incorporates both
soldier experiences of war and an assertion of white African identity,
and has been criticised for its retrospective triumphalism and
valorisation of a racially hierarchical past.
A widely sold and popular account is Fireforce: One Man's War
in the Rhodesian Light Infantry by Chris Cocks (1997). This, in
conjunction with its sequel Survival Course, covers the war and civilian
life in post-independence Zimbabwe, and addresses post-traumatic stress
as well as the white adjustment to independence. Other soldier stories
recount the challenges and trauma of the young soldier in a war they no
longer believe in, and incorporate direct critiques of the war and the
racially structured Rhodesian system (Moore-King 1988; Wylie 2002;
Williams 2008). Peter Godwin's first volume of memoir falls into
this soldier genre with its perceptive depiction of white society and a
morally questionable war, and positions him for his critics in a realm
far removed from Jewish identity and the trauma of the Holocaust.
Other texts within the Zimbabwe and Rhodesian white memoir
tradition are more clearly separated from the soldier's story, (8)
and they narrate the experience of growing up within a white Rhodesia at
war and an independent Zimbabwe in relative peace. Alexandra
Fuller's bestselling Don t Lets Go to the Dogs Tonight (2002) and
Scribbling the Cat (2004) achieved widespread sales in her new home of
North America, perhaps to a degree because of the way in which she
addressed the issues and guilt of white identity. (9) Another author who
also draws on memories of the 1970s, childhood and the search for a new
identity is Lauren St John (Rainbow's End 2007). The Last Resort: A
Zimbabwe Memoir (Rogers 2010) differs from most accounts because it
focuses primarily on the post-independence era, and it effectively
manipulates humour to describe one family's attempts to survive in
an era of farm seizures. While not an autobiography, journalist
Christina Lamb's House of Stone (2006) is a sensitive and balanced
understanding of the dilemmas facing white Zimbabweans who knew that
their position in the country was based on past conquests yet who also
felt this country was their home.
For readers who lived in southern Africa and who share the cultural
background of these authors, such memoirs constitute a poignant
excursion into nostalgia, as well as a reassertion of their white
African identity. For Australian and other western audiences in North
America or Europe, these books might provide echoes of a partly familiar
childhood (Gehrmann 2006:93). However, they can recycle racist views
(Simoes da Silva 2005:475) and evoke memories of white minority rule,
racism and South African Apartheid and can make us feel uncomfortable
with their reminders of a past era of racial hierarchy that we do not
wish to revisit. These easily recognised memoirs constitute an
identifiable genre that certainly addresses the complexity of white
African identity but again, do not relate to Jewish or Holocaust
concerns.
Critical academic reception of Crocodile
By the time When a Crocodile Eats the Sun was published, critics
were accustomed to the regular appearance of white African memoir, (10)
seen by some as perhaps a technique for white African writers to exploit
Western fascination with their plight (Pilossof 2009:623). Given that
Godwin's earlier works were situated in the world of the white
Rhodesian and Zimbabwean community, it was only logical that most
reviewers should interpret his next book primarily within the same
frameworks. An additional consideration was that educated opinion in the
West is generally uncomfortable with the past white minority worlds of
southern Africa and this further shaped the perspective of many
reviewers.
When evaluating the academic critiques of Crocodile, it was clear
that most reviewers saw the Jewish dimensions of this book as of limited
significance. One analysis regarded Peter Godwin's discovery that
he was a minority within a minority and the book's Jewish
background as matter of fact issues, going even further to argue that
George Godwin's concealed identity is an action taken to avoid the
racial prejudice of Anglo-Saxons (Windrich 2007:1409), an assessment
that is difficult to support after any close reading of the text. Wylie
saw Peter Godwin as white rather than Jewish, and interpreted George
Godwin's actions as being undertaken "largely to avoid
thinking about the loss of his own mother and sister in Treblinka"
(2007:160).
This assessment is at odds with George's own stated intent,
and seems to downplay an incredibly complex experience. Research clearly
shows that Holocaust related trauma does indeed shape lives for decades
(Maclean, Abramovich and Langfield 2007:27). Marianne Hirsch has also
discussed the issue of postmemory, in which the generation after an
event considers the traumas, transmitted to them from the previous
generation with these traumas, become a memory in their own right
(Hirsch 2012:5-6). Here, memory is something that is based on the deep
connections that the second generation have to their parents'
survival stories. Peter Godwin's work provides a challenge to this
debate as his mission is to understand his father's experiences and
their impact upon him, largely because his father's memories were
kept from him. (11)
Peter Godwin's connection of his family's suffering under
Nazism to his parents' growing insecurity in Zimbabwe was an area
of concern to several critics. It might be thought that for Holocaust
survivors and their families, associations of trauma and insecurity need
no explanation, but this appears to be less important to critics for
whom George Godwin's assumption of white African identity has
apparently obliterated his Jewish identity, and cut all links with the
trauma of the Survivor's experience. (12) After considering
Crocodile as a white memoir, Linfield separately addressed the Jewish
component of the book as almost a detached story, correctly pointing out
that there was no comparison between the death of a tiny number of white
farmers in Zimbabwe and the events of the Holocaust. She saw this as a
failing of the book in literary and structural terms (Linfield 2007:98).
Similar concerns were expressed by Pilossof, whose telling critique of
the romanticising and mythologising of Africa by white writers also
interpreted Peter Godwin's associations between whites in
contemporary Africa and Jews worldwide, and the dispossession and
socio-economic collapse engendered by the Zimbabwe land reforms to the
Holocaust as false, "trite and facetious" (2009:633).
The author himself rebutted such critiques directly in an
interview, where he pointed out that the contentious phrase "A
white in Africa is like a Jew everywhere" (Godwin 2006:266) was a
statement about human insecurity rather than an attempt to make direct
comparisons between Mugabe and Hitler (Kachka 2007).
Simoes da Silva (2011) was more sympathetic, and in exploring
George Godwin's Jewish identity understood his decision to conceal
his identity as an action designed to protect his family in the future.
Yet Simoes da Silva also saw the device of using Jewish identity in the
book as one that allowed white Zimbabweans to be positioned as victims.
Other reviewers praised the book but saw the Jewish component as being
of lesser interest than the denunciation of Mugabe's regime, with
the Jewish identity issue passed off in dismissive terms-"one
isn't really interested in his father's back story"
(Cowley 2007).
From the Jewish perspective, the Shoah is not a back story but a
central aspect of modern Jewish identity. Perhaps not surprisingly, the
Jewish dimension of Crocodile was really only fully explored in
Jewish-based reviews, and these were not in the academic sphere.
Kirchick reviewed it in the New York-based Jewish daily The Forward, and
identified the central aspects of the Jewish content of the book and
Peter Godwin's journey that was clearly one of self-discovery
through his attempt to become more aware of the disaster that European
Jews experienced as he starts to discover the fate of his own family.
There was no question that for George Godwin, hiding identity was a way
of escaping trauma and terror (Kirchick 2007). In her blog site
Compelling Stories: Jewish Lives Lived, Bird began by noting that the
author's Jewish roots was only one aspect of the book, but clearly
situated this short but effective review from within the framework of
Peter Godwin's search for his family's past and for his own
Jewish identity (Bird 2010).
Revelation of George Godwin's secret Jewish past
The revelation of George Godwin's past makes compelling
reading, and layers of identity are peeled back as Peter visits and
revisits his increasingly aged parents in between journalistic
assignments in Africa. Peter's father George has a heart attack,
and as his father lies in hospital, Peter tries to imagine his
father's obituary and reflects on what little there is that he
knows of his father. He knows that George was born in England (location
unknown), that he was educated in an unknown school (possibly in
Scotland), that in the Second World War he joined the British army (in
an unknown unit), all facts of which Peter is unsure. Indeed,
Peter's more concrete knowledge of his father's past begins
with his study at London University and his immigration to Africa.
During his ruminations, Peter wanders around the house and casually
absorbs the fact that all the family portraits and memorabilia, some of
which go back to the mid-19th century, are of his mother's rather
than his father's family. Aimlessly looking through his
father's workshop, he finds a hidden photograph of three unknown
strangers, a dated image of a middle-aged couple and a 12-year-old girl.
Feeling a sense of discomfort at his prying, he puts the old photograph
back in its hiding place (Godwin 2006:17-20).
Peter's father survives the heart attack, but five years later
he is badly beaten up in a carjacking attempt and it is after this
narrow escape that Peter again encounters the picture his septuagenarian
father has just placed on the wall. His mother responds to Peter's
queries and explains that these are his father's parents and
younger sister. Peter realises it is the first time he has ever seen any
pictures of his father's family, and he becomes aware that the girl
in the old photograph looks strangely familiar-in fact, she looks like
him. He questions his mother further as he wants to know more about the
picture, and why his father has finally put it up, after half a century
of concealment.
"Listen," she says in a hushed voice so as not to be
overheard by my father, "I'm afraid we haven't been
entirely honest with you. Dad's family wasn't from England.
They were from Poland. He's from Poland. They were Jews."
"Jews?"
"Yes, Polish Jews. Like him. He's a Jew. He changed his
name."
For a moment I still can't quite grasp what she is saying. My
father, as I know him--George Godwin, this Anglo-African in a safari
suit and desert boots, with his clipped British accent--is an invention?
All these years, he has been living a lie? His name--my name is not our
own? (Godwin 2006:113-114).
I find myself looking at him differently--shorn now of his cover,
his assumed identity. He seems to look different, more ...
mittel-European. His handlebar moustache no longer looks like a
Victorian English accessory, but a Slavic one. Stalin as rendered by
Peter Ustinov. I find myself examining him for stereotypical Jewish
features (Godwin 2006:114).
George Godwin refuses to speak to his son about the past, and Peter
returns to New York with his questions unanswered. For Peter and his
surviving sister Georgina, the revelation of their father's secret
Jewish heritage explains aspects of his remoteness. It seems to offer an
explanation for curious quirks of his character, such as why he only
ever took Georgina to the cinema twice, on both occasions to see movies,
both about the 1976 rescue of hijacked Jews at Entebbe in Uganda (Godwin
2006:117). Peter's journey to understanding his father's past
increases after the September 11 attacks. While covering news stories
from Ground Zero, he eats at the nearby cafeteria of the New York Museum
of Jewish Heritage and on visiting the museum experiences a new
comprehension of a Holocaust that now has a very personal reference to
him, most tellingly as he reads the testimony of a Survivor with whom he
shares his Jewish surname.
With some reluctance, George Godwin opens up to his New York-based
son and sends him their family tree. The manner of this communication
reminds the reader how deeply George Godwin has hidden his Jewish
identity, as although the family tree covers five generations it has
names with footnote numbers but no details, and no name linking George
Godwin to this incriminating document. Indeed, where George
Godwin's name should be are the enigmatic letters GG, with the
birth date carefully omitted to ensure George's continued anonymity
and safety. The footnotes that provide the details are deliberately sent
in a separate letter to reduce the chance of their interception by an
outsider. Even though Nazi Germany had been defeated half a century
earlier, George Godwin was still being very careful:
Even now, in his moment of candour, he cannot bring himself to use
his original name. It goes against all that he has struggled to hide for
half a century, his self-imposed witness protection programme (Godwin
2006:123).
These documents give Peter Godwin his first real understanding of
his father's loss, for in the detailed family tree it becomes
apparent that 16 of the 24 family members living in Poland were killed
in the Shoah. As he ponders on the information his father has sent,
Peter Godwin realises how little he actually knows about the details of
the Holocaust that has now started to become personal to him and is
slowly becoming part of his own changing identity. There is so much he
does not know about being Jewish, the Holocaust and also about his
family history, and his father's revelation of these is a task that
is hard to undertake and that can only be done gradually.
He is finally trying to discard a mask, and yet it seems that when
he peels it off he cannot easily access what's underneath. The
mask, the superimposed visage that he has shown the world, this
concocted exterior, has become his only reality. It is more than just a
mask; it is a suit of armour that hasn't been shed for so long it
has fused onto the milky body within, the body it was fabricated to
protect (Godwin 2006:126).
George Godwin's comfortable middle-class early life in central
Warsaw as Kazimierz Jerzy Goldfarb is eventually revealed. The child of
secular parents, his father Maurycy's work as a shipping agent
keeps the family in comfort, and his mother's law degree is a
further reference to their middle-class status. His holidays include
overseas travel to Norway, Germany and France, and as a non-Yiddish
speaker who has never attended a synagogue he sees himself as a Jewish
Pole rather than a Polish Jew (Godwin 2006:130-132).
Sent to study English in Britain in the summer of 1939, the
15-year-old youth finds himself stranded at the outbreak of the Second
World War and his life changes irrevocably. His service in the Polish
army in exile leads to fighting in Normandy, Belgium and the
Netherlands. During the war he receives only three letters from his
father, and he loses touch with his family. At the end of the war he
finds that his mother and sister were caught by a Nazi patrol in late
1942 and had not been seen since. A sporadic exchange of letters with
his father occurs before the descent of the Iron Curtain ends the now
remarried Maurycy's hope of joining his son in England.
Kazimierz studies engineering as George (Jerzy) Goldfarb, becomes
engaged to Helen, a British medical student, and once naturalised
marries her after a complex process of having her drop her third name,
to allow him to adopt it as his new surname, completing the process of
assimilation and concealment of identity (Godwin 2006:151). He moves to
Africa to work, and becomes a Rhodesian.
When he emigrates to Africa, he is George Godwin. A new man. A man
fleeing racial persecution and war, mayhem and genocide. And with him, a
woman who will keep his secret, even from their own children (Godwin
2006:151).
George's erasure of identity and reinvention as a colonial
British white African is so complete as to demand the concealment of
part of his life usually highly valued by former soldiers, particularly
those in British middle-class society. Upon his father's death,
Peter is sorting through his father's effects when he realises
something is missing. He finds his maternal grandfather's First
World War medals, his mother's Second World War medals and his
father's medals commemorating his part-time military service in the
Rhodesian war, but no other medals acknowledging his father's
intense fighting in the Second World War. These medals do exist. Having
been issued with the now incriminating name of Kazimierz Jerzy Goldfarb,
for fifty years they wait unclaimed in the Ministry of Defence in London
(Godwin 2006:323).
So is it problematic for Peter Godwin to make the connection
between whites in Africa and Jews everywhere, "on sufferance,
watching warily, waiting for the next great tidal swell of
hostility"? (Godwin 2006: 266). Again, this is a connection he has
defended in interviews, indicating that this is not his authorial point
of view, but his rendition of the sentiments and experiences of his
father, who speaks from Holocaust and Jewish experiences of his own
family and of himself. Peter Godwin emphasises that he was not
suggesting an imminent holocaust in Zimbabwe, but events such as the
1994-95 genocide in Rwanda and the Zimbabwe government massacres in
Matabeleland in the mid 1980s make it clear that Africa is no stranger
to state-sanctioned mass murder. He points out that the association
between white Africans in post independence southern Africa and Jews in
interwar Europe was a comparison of ... ethnically and racially
identifiable people, often better off than the average citizen in the
country they inhabited, often doing well, often part of the upper middle
class, but often part of the elite. Essentially, in those situations,
when there is an economic downturn and the leader tends to populism or
fascism, they look for groups like that and export the politics of envy,
and perhaps even an incipient resentment and they sort of exploit that.
So you're always vulnerable as a group--that's the kind of
insecurity that he senses is there (Zuarino 2007).
He goes on to place this in the context of our historical
understanding of the suppression of Jews, of pogroms and repressions
that appear and then disappear, only to reappear again, and in this he
reflects a sense of the history that pervades the experience of Jews
living as a minority among the Christian majority. There are of course
historical differences as unlike Jews, today's white Africans
inherit the legacy of past racial suppression of others. Godwin's
viewpoint goes far beyond nostalgic depictions of Africa by displaced
white African expatriates, and creates an empathetic understanding of
the experience of being identified as a member of an ethnic group who
are the objects of state vilification, a point that is not developed by
reviewers who conflate the writing of Peter Godwin, the journalist son
and the lived experience of George Godwin the hidden Jewish father.
A critical reviewer could well ask what percentage of When a
Crocodile Eats the Sun is a Holocaust or Jewish tale and from this
question how much the experience of the Holocaust and Jewish identity
drives the book. In purely mathematical terms only part of the book is
about Jewish identity. While there are recurrent one to three page
discussions of the Jewish aspects of the Godwin family's past, the
experience of social decline and political chaos in Zimbabwe is the
book's central focus, and George Godwin's upbringing and
experiences in Jewish Poland and his experiences of the Second World War
are covered in only two chapters. The greater part of another chapter
recounts the concentration camp death of his mother Janina and sister
Halina. But this in itself is both telling and terrible, as it
illustrates how very little George Godwin knew about his own past, and
how little he knew about the horrors that Nazism inflicted on his
family.
This lack of the past, and the lack of any links to the past is
brought home after his death when his widow Helen recounts how just
before the war, George's mother Janina had sent a package of Polish
delicacies to England, a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with
string. George Godwin had saved a piece of the string and carried it
around with him for years as "the last contact he had with his
mother before she was killed by the Nazis. The last thing that she had
actually touched" (Godwin 2006:307).
One of the reasons George revealed his Jewish past to his son Peter
was because he wanted Peter to find out what happened to his mother and
sister. Peter discovers the few details he can of their arrest and
subsequent death at Treblinka, but finds it hard to tell this aged dying
man of how his mother Janina and sister Halina would have died.
"From all the details of the research I've done, the
books I've read, it would have been quick, Dad. They wouldn't
have suffered much."... I can see, though, that he is just
pretending to believe me. He knows that they probably did suffer
terribly. But he wants me to believe that I have successfully reassured
him. I am lying, and so is he. We are lying to each other (Godwin
2006:281).
Both men have fought in unpleasant and nasty wars, and they know
the brutal reality of war, and wish that others could have been spared
such horrors. This is the tragedy of these two men who each fought in a
war but have both had a sister die, needlessly and tragically. For
George the problem is magnified as the war dead include his mother
Janina, his sister Halina and his daughter Jain.
Realisation and acknowledgement of Peter Godwin's Jewish
history
Ambiguity and ambivalence are perplexing, uncertain, discomforting
and unsettling, and yet these themes contribute to making Peter
Godwin's account so interesting. Holocaust memories, the analogies
to war and political repression and the legacy of this violence have
devastating impacts on many lives. The use by the father of his son as a
researcher, and the repositioning of Peter as his father's
amanuensis overshadows the fact that this account is also one of
Peter's discovery of his own Jewish heritage. This is a difficult
journey, and a gradual process. He is both a writer and a public
intellectual, and while he is recounting his father's story, this
book also constitutes his own personal discovery of his Jewish ancestry,
and of a possible Jewish identity. His linkage to this ethnicity is tied
up with his connections to these people from the previously unknown
past, and it reaches out to him when he follows his father's
request to initiate a Red Cross search for information about Halina and
Janina. While filling out the Holocaust and war victims tracing and
information enquiry forms, he matches the required information about
these women, such as "Last Contact With Sought Person"
..."Disappeared from a Warsaw street in 1942/43". When looking
over the form he realises he has not answered the very first question
and records for posterity that the person he is seeking is not some
anonymous stranger but is his own Aunt.
Only then does it really sink in. This is not just my father's
history; this is my family too, these are my people ... this Holocaust
is reaching forward in time to snag me with its icy claw, to confound me
with its counsel of despair. But still I want to resist this inherited
burden. My father's antique associations have nothing to do with my
life. These are not my fights. That was there, then. This is here, now
(Godwin 2006:124-125).
Clearly, Peter Godwin resents this identity that is being placed
upon him. The transition to his association with a Jewish identity is a
gradual thing, and after at least one active spoken rejection of Jewish
self identity, he finds himself about to buy a flat in New York from a
Polish Jewish rabbi. The flat is occupied by Polish immigrant Jews and
members of a radical green Jewish environmental group, and to Godwin the
place is permeated with Jewish diversity. There is still ambivalence in
his identification of himself as a Jew, an act he consciously undertakes
to boost his chance of buying the flat, but this is a public statement
of Peter's personal discovery and growing sense of Jewish identity
and ancestry.
Whether or not Peter Godwin is Jewish, at least one observer
understands the conflicts implicit in this Jewish heritage and identity:
"Like my father before me I am rejecting my own identity. I am
committing cultural treason," Godwin writes, referring to his
decision to leave Zimbabwe and move to America. Yet this admission
evinces not simply the guilt of a man who witnessed grave suffering in
his country and feels impassive in its enormity, but also of a
conflicted Jew who suddenly feels some ineffable--yet ultimately
elusive--connection to a people (Kirchick 2007).
George Godwin hides his Jewish identity, tries to erase his past
and suppresses this facet of his existence, but his actions are not
unique. As Peter researches his father's history, he eventually
discovers the existence of his father's Aunt Sophie, whose erasure
of her own Polish Jewish existence to become French, and her revelation
of her Jewish history to her family in old age is a chilling replication
of George's experience (Godwin 2006:267). Of course, hidden Jewish
identity is not extraordinary, and has long been a feature of the Jewish
experience in Spain. The conversos in Belmonte were discovered by the
Polish Jew Samuel Schwartz in 1917 after centuries of hiding, and he
found them to be maintaining dual religious practices that he saw were
neither Jewish nor Christian "though inspired by both
religions" (Yovel 2009:379). However it is not easy to coexist with
a perpetual constructed manner of living in two worlds simultaneously,
with two adopted mentalities (Melammed 2004:145).
In Australia, some survivors of the Holocaust who acknowledged
their Jewish identity but suppressed their stories and did not share
their trauma with their families remained silent for years to put this
past history behind them in order to make a new life (Langfield
2012:76). But for George Godwin assimilation goes beyond this issue of
seeking refuge from trauma while remaining Jewish, rather it also
becomes a path to hiding and assimilation, to prevent a repetition of
the past.
Peter, having been raised as a white, middle-class British
Rhodesian African, has no conception of the complex depths of his
father's Jewish past, and initially views his father's Jewish
identity more as an interesting piece of family history.
"Why did you conceal this Jewish stuff anyway, Dad?" I
ask.
He looks at me as though I am being deliberately obtuse.
"Why?" He says. "For my children. For you. So that
you could be safe. So that what happened to them," he nods towards
the photo of his mother and his sister, "would never happen to you.
Because it will never really go away, this thing. It goes underground
for a generation or two, but always re-emerges" (Godwin 2006:173).
Peter Godwin wonders if his father is right, but he cannot know his
father's experience, but can only try and understand it. At what
stage is it safe to reveal a hidden identity? In studies of hidden Jews
in the southern United States and Mexico, it has been suggested that it
might never be safe, with the memory of the Inquisition like the
Holocaust remaining "deeply embedded in the consciousness of
individuals descended from Spanish Jewry" (Jacobs 1996:99).
Conclusion
Is this highly readable book a white African memoir or a memoir of
Jewish identity? Peter Godwin's first autobiographical account,
Mukiwa, is a white African memoir, yet it is also a memoir of military
experience. The same can obviously be said of other Rhodesian Zimbabwean
memoirs such as the works of Cocks, Williams, Wylie and Moore-King. A
memoir can have multiple purposes and it seems undeniable that When a
Crocodile Eats the Sun is both a memoir of white African experience and
a memoir of hidden Jewish identity. Both genres are present, and both
are interwoven in the narrative in a manner that is particularly telling
in the conclusion. This is a memoir partly concealed within a memoir,
and the account of Jewish identity and the Holocaust is used to
contextualise the tragedy of political repression and human misery in
Zimbabwe.
This is an African story, but it is also pertinent to Australia.
Issues of southern Africa are increasingly linked to Australia as the
pattern of southern African migration shows (Louw and Mersham 2001;
Tatz, Arnold and Heller 2007; Lucas, Jamali and Edgar 2011). The story
is important because of the message that it conveys to a new audience,
and this message is the same as that collected in Australia.
The traditional message from survivors at the end of their video
testimonies is "Don't forget you are Jewish" or
"Don't let it happen again" (Langfield 2012:76).
The assumption of such assertions is that to avoid it happening
again, the story has to be told and absorbed, and if it can be told and
absorbed by those reading a white African memoir, this is indeed an act
of good fortune. Isabel Wollaston has pointed out that a strength of
Elie Wiesel is the ability to give access to an East European world that
the Holocaust destroyed, to provide access to a lost and possibly alien
culture "in a manner that is accessible and non-threatening"
(Wollaston 2005:163). The revelation of George Godwin's concealed
identity also opens up the past for a new range of readers.
This article's introduction made reference to the book's
prologue that describes George Godwin's funeral cremation. The
final pages of the book are an exact repetition of this prologue with a
word for word description of Godwin's cremation as a notional
Hindu, in a Zimbabwe where the expense of the cremation is impossible
unless this is prescribed for religious purposes. The same words of the
prologue appear at the end of the book, but for the reader the meaning
of these repeated words has now become entirely different. The cremation
of George Godwin / Jerzy Goldfarb is no longer the cremation of an
elderly white African, but is an act that undeniably evokes thoughts of
his sister's and mother's cremation in the fires of Treblinka.
Surely this allusion demands recognition of the book as a
self-consciously Jewish narrative.
Acknowledgements
I wish to thank Dr Celmara Pocock for her critical and insightful
comments, two anonymous reviewers for their helpful contributions, and
the participants of the AAJS annual conference in Sydney in February
2013 for their discussions on an earlier draft of this paper.
References
Alexander, Karin. 2004. "Orphans of the Empire: An Analysis of
Elements of White Identity and Ideology Construction in Zimbabwe."
in Brian Raftopoulous and Tyrone Savage (eds.), Zimbabwe: Injustice and
Political Reconciliation. Cape Town: Institute for Justice and
Reconciliation: 193-211.
Bird, Toby 2010. "When a Crocodile Eats the Sun: A Memoir of
Africa by Peter Godwin 2006," Compelling Stories: Jewish Lives
Lived. http://compellingjewishstories.blogspot.com.au/, accessed 2
September 2012.
Chirere, Memory. 2005. "The Rhodesian Soldier
Literature.'" Southern Times 17.
http://ir.uz.ac.zw/jspui/bitstream/10646/603/1/The%20
Rhodesia%20Soldier%20Literature.pdf, accessed 6 January 2013.
Cocks, Chris. 1999. Survival Course. Weltevreden Park: Covos-Day.
1997. Fireforce: One Man's War in the Rhodesian Light Infantry.
Roodepoort: Covos-Day.
Cowley, Jason, 2007. "Stick Around and You Just Might Learn
Something." The Observer, 4 March 2007.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/theobserver/2007/mar/04/ society.politics,
accessed 2 September 2012.
De Mul, Sarah. 2009. "Doris Lessing, Feminism and the
Representation of Zimbabwe." European Journal of Women's
Studies, 16(1): 33-51.
Fisher, Josephine. 2010. Pioneers, Settlers, Aliens, Exiles: The
Decolonisation of White Identity in Zimbabwe. Canberra: ANU-E Press.
Fohn, Adeline and Heenan-Wolff, Susann. 2010. "The Destiny of
an Unacknowledged Trauma: Deferred Retroactive Effect of Apres-coup in
the Hidden Jewish Children of Wartime Belgium." The International
Journal of Psychoanalysis, 92(1): 5-20.
Fuller, Alexandra. 2011. Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of
Forgetfulness. London: Simon and Schuster. 2004. Scribbling the Cat:
Travels with an African Soldier. London: Picador. 2002. Don't Lets
Go to the Dogs Tonight: An African Childhood. London: Picador.
Gehrmann, Richard. 2006. "Booze and Gunshots in a Hot Dry
Summer: An African Childhood." Coppertales: A Journal of Rural
Arts, 10: 92-94.
Godwin, Peter. 2006. When a Crocodile Eats the Sun: A Memoir.
London: Picador. 1997. Mukiwa: A White Boy in Africa. London: Picador.
Godwin, Peter and Hancock, Ian. 1995. Rhodesians Never Die; The
Impact of War and Political Change on White Rhodesia, c. 1970-1980.
Harare: Baobab Books.
Hirsch, Marianne. 2012. The Generation of Postmemory: Writing and
Visual Culture after the Holocaust. New York: Columbia.
Hughes, David McDermott. 2010. Whiteness in Zimbabwe: Race,
Landscape, and the Problem of Belonging. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Jacobs, Janet Liebman. 1996. "Women, Ritual, and Secrecy: The
Creation of Crypto-Jewish culture." Journal for the Scientific
Study of Religion, 35: 97-108.
Johnson, Laurie. 2013. "Cryptonymic Secretion: On the
Kind-ness of Strangers," in Thwaites, Tony and Judith Seaboyer
(eds.), Rereading Derrida: Perspectives on Mourning and Its
Hospitalities. Lanham: Lexington Books: 117-129.
Kachka, Boris 2007. "Eye on Zimbabwe: Peter Godwin". New
York Magazine 15 April. http://nymag.com/arts/books/features/30625/,
accessed 2 September 2012.
Kessel, Barbara. 2000. Suddenly Jewish: Jews Raised as Gentiles
Discover their Jewish Roots. Hanover: University Press of New England.
Kirchick, James. 2007. "Hunting in Zimbabwe for Identity and
Family." The Forward; Jewish Daily. 26 June,
http://forward.com/articles/11034/hunting-in-zimbabwe-for-identity-and-family-/, accessed 2 September 2012.
Kriger, Norma. 2008. "Zimbabwe through Multiple Personal
Perspectives." African Studies Review, 51(3): 159-164.
Lamb, Christina. 2006. House of Stone. London: Harper.
Langfield, Michelle. 2012. "Negotiating the Shadow of the
Past: Don't forget you are Jewish': Holocaust Survivors,
Identity Formation and Sense of Belonging in Australia," in Mason,
Robert, and Anna Hayes (eds.), Cultures in Refuge: Seeking Sanctuary in
Modern Australia. Aldershot: Ashgate: 67-78.
Linfield, Susie. 2007. "The Bleeding Wound: Zimbabwe's
Slow Suicide." Dissent, 54(4): 94-101.
Lis-Turlejska, Maja, Aleksandra Luszczynska, Anna Plichta and
Charles Benight. 2008. "Jewish and Non-Jewish World War II Child
and Adolescent Survivors at 60 Years After War: Effects of Parental Loss
and Age at Exposure on Well-Being." American Journal of
Orthopsychiatry, 78(3): 369-377.
Louw, P. Eric, and Gary Mersham. 2001 "Packing for Perth: The
Growth of a Southern African Diaspora." Asian and Pacific Migration
Journal, 10(2): 303-333.
Lucas, D., M. Jamali, and B. Edgar. 2011, "Zimbabwe's
Exodus to Australia," African Studies Association of Australasia
and the Pacific Conference 2011, Flinders University: The African
Studies Association of Australasia and the Pacific: 1-22. http ://www.
afsaap.org. au/Conferences/2011 / Lucas_Jamali_Edgar.pdf, accessed 10
September 2012.
Maclean, Pam, Dvir Abramovich, and Michelle Langfield. 2007.
"Remembering Afresh? Videotestimonies held in the Jewish Holocaust
Museum and Research Centre (JHMRC) in Melbourne," in Pam Maclean,
Michelle Langfield and Dvir Abramovich (eds.), Testifying to the
Holocaust. Sydney: Australian Association of Jewish Studies: 3-28.
Melammed, Renee Levine. 2004. A Question of Identity: Iberian
Conversos in Historical Perspective. New York: Oxford University Press.
Mendelsohn, Richard, and Milton Shain (eds). 2002. Memories,
Realities and Dreams: Aspects of the South African Jewish Experience.
Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball.
Minter, William. 2007. "The Armored Bubble: Military Memoirs
from Apartheid's Warriors." African Studies Review, 50(3):
147-152.
Moore-King, Bruce. 1988. White Man Black War. Harare: Baobab Books.
Muller-Paisner, Vera. 2002. "Poland: crisis in
Christian-Jewish identity." Journal of Applied Psychoanalytic
Studies. 4(1): 13-30.
Pilossof, Rory. 2009. "The Unbearable Whiteness of Being:
Land, Race and Belonging in the Memoirs of White Zimbabweans."
South African Historical Journal, 61(3): 621-638.
Primorac, Ranka. 2010. "Rhodesians Never Die? The Zimbabwean
Crisis and the Revival of Rhodesian Discourse." in Joann McGregor
and Ranka Primorac (eds.), Zimbabwe's New Diaspora: Displacement
and the Cultural Politics of Survival. Oxford: Berghahn Books: 202-228.
Rand, Nicholas. 1994. "Introduction: Renewals of
Psychoanalysis," in Nicolas Abraham and Maria Torok, The Shell and
the Kernel; Renewals of psychoanalysis, edited and translated by
Nicholas T. Rand. Chicago: University of Chicago: 1-22.
Rogers, Douglas. 2010. The Last Resort: A Zimbabwe Memoir. London:
Short.
Sachikonye, Lloyd M. 2004. "The Promised Land: From
Expropriation to Reconciliation and Jambanja," in Brian
Raftopoulous and Tyrone Savage (eds.), Zimbabwe: Injustice and Political
Reconciliation. Cape Town: Institute for Justice and Reconciliation:
1-18.
Sakinofsky, Phyllis. 2007. "Imprints of Memories, Shadows and
Silences: Shaping the Jewish South African Story." Australian
Journal of Jewish Studies, 21: 223-240.
Shain, Milton. 2011. "Jewish cultures, identities and
contingencies: reflections from the South African experience."
European Review of History--Revue Europeenne d Histoire, 18(1): 89-100.
Shimoni, Gideon. 2003. Community and Conscience: The Jews in
Apartheid South Africa. Lebanon NH: University Press of New England for
Brandeis University Press.
Simoes da Silva, Tony. 2011. "Longing, Belonging, and
Self-making in White Zimbabwean Life Writing: Peter Godwin's When a
Crocodile Eats the Sun." LiNQ, 38.
http://www.linq.org.au/samplers/articlefiles/ JCUPRD1_069427.html,
accessed 15 September 2012. 2005. "Narrating a White Africa:
Autobiography, Race and History." Third World Quarterly, 26(3):
471-478.
St John, Lauren. 2007. Rainbow's End; A Memoir of Childhood,
War and an African Farm. New York: Scribner.
Tatz, Colin, Peter Arnold and Gillian Heller. 2007. Worlds Apart:
The Re-migration of South African Jews. Dural: Rosenberg.
Williams, Paul. 2008. Soldier Blue. Claremont: David Phillip.
Windrich, Elaine. 2007. "Zimbabwe Lives: Autobiography as
History." Third World Quarterly, 28(7): 1401-1411.
Wollaston, Isabel. 2005. " Telling the Tale': The Self
Representation and Reception of Elie Wiesel," in Ed Kessler and
Melanie J. Wright (eds.), Themes in Jewish-Christian Relations.
Cambridge: Orchard Academic: 151-169.
Wylie, Dan. 2007. "The Schizophrenias of Truth-Telling in
Contemporary Zimbabwe." English Studies in Africa, 50(2): 151-169.
2002. Dead Leaves: Two Years in the Rhodesian War. Pietermaritzburg:
University of Natal.
Yovel, Yirimiyahu. 2009. The Other Within: The Marranos, Split
Identity and Emerging Modernity. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Zuarino, John 2007. "An interview with Peter Godwin." at
http://www.bookslut.com/features/2007_07_011354.php, accessed 2
September 2012.
Endnotes
(1.) Sir Roy Welensky was Prime Minister of the Federation of
Rhodesia and Nyasaland. In South Africa, Joe Slovo and Ruth First were
significant African National Congress leaders, Helen Suzman and Harry
Schwarz were notable as long-standing opposition politicians, while
Nadine Gordimer and Johnny Clegg achieved success in the literary and
music fields. For further accounts of the South African Jewish community
see Mendelsohn and Shain (2002), Shimoni (2003), Tatz, Arnold and Heller
(2007), and Sakinofsky (2007).
(2.) The country was named Rhodesia until 1979, then Zimbabwe
Rhodesia, and after majority rule in 1980 became Zimbabwe.
(3.) The 1969 Constitution included Asian and those of mixed-race
as Europeans (Godwin and Hancock 1995).
(4.) For a detailed account of the social and political factors
that drove this complex event, see Sachikonye (2004).
(5.) Whites who had not adapted saw themselves as
"Rhodies" (unlike "Zimbabweans" who had adapted),
and those who had emigrated to South Africa and lived in the past with
their references to "when we were in Rhodesia" were
disparagingly referred to as "when-we's" (Fisher
2010:151).
(6.) Soldiers' memoirs include both accounts by participants
who write retrospective critiques of the conflict in southern Africa,
and attempts by participants to justify and explain their position. A
survey of the second perspective is provided by Minter (2007), while
Chirere (2005) gives an overview of one example of popular
pre-independence white Rhodesian war writing.
(7.) The war (also referred to as the War of Liberation) began in
1964 and lasted until 1980, and these names are used by participants
from different sides.
(8.) De Mul (2009:47) argues that there is a clear difference
between male war accounts and female memoirs of this period.
(9.) Partly to redress what her mother (understandably) felt were
misrepresentations in the first book, Fuller went on to write a more
empathetic account of her mother's African experiences in Cocktail
Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness (2011).
(10.) This form of writing has become focused on questions of
identity post-emigration, and reinvention or reassertion of identity,
which Primorac sees as an attempt to belong in a world of multiple exile
that reproduces a sense of colonial ambivalence about home, belonging
and Africa (2010: 202-203).
(11.) Peter Godwin has inherited a memory gap, rather than the
postmemory he might have expected to inherit. This concept of the trauma
memory gap has been explored in the framework of the psychoanalysts
Nicolas Abraham and Maria Torok, whose work draws on the idea of a
trans-generational phantom (Rand 1994). The Holocaust is a silence in
their writing yet as Holocaust survivors themselves, their memories are
informed by this experience (Johnson 2013: 122-124). Space precludes
examination of this issue here, but in-depth exploration of
intergenerational trauma transmission in the context of Godwin's
experience constitutes a further research topic.
(12.) George Godwin's experience places him in the categories
of a Jew who has consciously assimilated, and a Jewish child who escaped
the Holocaust and was an indirect witness to his family's
suffering. As such, he represents both first-generation and second
generation experiences. While Holocaust survivors who emigrated to the
United States, Canada, Israel and Australia had better mental health
care than those who remained in Europe (Lis-Turlejska, Luszczynska,
Plichta and Benight 2008), it is clear that trauma remains a reality for
those who were separated from their families at a young age, and those
whose families died. This is particularly the case for children who were
separated from their parents and hidden in Europe (Fohn and Heenan-Wolff
2010).