Title: Unmasking the Past: Brandeis Library’s Quest to Reclaim Nazi-Looted Books
In the heart of Brandeis University lies a poignant mission: to identify and document materials from its library’s holdings that were looted by the Nazis from European Jews. The university, which received sizeable donations of Nazi-looted books shortly after its founding in 1948, has embarked on a painstaking task to gather and preserve these critical pieces of history scattered throughout its collections.
Lou Hartman, a metadata coordinator at Brandeis, has been at the forefront of this effort. "We want to make sure none of these books are accidentally discarded," Hartman said, explaining how the project originated from a larger initiative to clean up the library’s physical books.
The search began with identifying books published before 1945 in target languages—German, Yiddish, Hebrew, and Russian. One day, Hartman stumbled upon a 1933 Jewish prayer book from Frankfurt, bearing a slip of paper with a handwritten transliteration of "Shalom Aleichem." The spellings hinted that the writer’s most fluent language was German.
"The emotion hit me like a ton of bricks," Hartman recalled, choking up at the memory. "I just about sat down in the middle of the aisle and started crying."
These books serve as tangible memorials to those killed in the Holocaust, according to Brandeis Judaica librarian Rachel Greenblatt. Even after the last Holocaust survivors pass, these books will remain as "material survivors, as witnesses."
The Brandeis University Library received these books through Jewish Cultural Reconstruction, Inc. (JCR), an organization tasked with collecting and distributing unclaimed Jewish cultural materials recovered post-World War II. Despite receiving over 11,000 JCR books, no inventory of titles has been found. Thus, Hartman and their team began with a list of around 30,000 titles, which has since yielded roughly 700 volumes with evidence of Nazi looting.
The search for these books is no easy feat. Some bear book plates from JCR, but many do not. Nazi stamps, swastikas, or seals from the Offenbach Archival Depot—the warehouse where the U.S. military collected and attempted to organize looted items—help identify looted books. However, many books have no clear markings, leaving librarians to piece together clues from publication dates, bookstore stickers, or inscriptions.
Greenblatt, Hartman, and fellow librarian Ari Kleinman have formed a task force at the Association of Jewish Libraries to identify Nazi-era looted books and create a database of stamps and other markings found within.
To assist in the search, Hartman trained three students, two of whom graduated. Those students, especially descendants of Holocaust survivors, proved "really invested" in the project. "This is an emotionally resonant sort of project," Hartman noted, citing dark humor as a coping mechanism for the weighty subject matter.
When opening books and finding Nazi stamps, Hartman feels a mix of revulsion and triumph. "It’s creepy, it’s chilling," they admitted. "But then you think, ‘You thought your empire would last a thousand years. And now you’re dead, and your books are at Brandeis, and I’m touching your stuff.’"
In collaboration with Towson University, Brandeis received a federal grant to create a shared catalog of their JCR materials. Towson also plans to incorporate these books into public educational programming aimed at combating Holocaust disinformation.
Through tireless dedication and meticulous detective work, Brandeis University Library is slowly unraveling the tangled web of Nazi looting, one book at a time.
The Brandeis Library’s quest to reclaim nazi-looted books is a testament to the enduring power of remembrance. By meticulously uncovering these stolen treasures, the university honors the victims of the Holocaust, preserving their stories and ensuring their voices are not silenced. Lou Hartman’s personal connection to the project underscores the profound human impact of this endeavor. Each recovered book is not just a collection of words, but a fragment of a life interrupted, a legacy threatened, and ultimately, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Brandeis University’s commitment to this project serves as an inspiration, reminding us that even in the darkest chapters of history, the pursuit of truth, justice, and remembrance remains paramount.
This meticulous effort to uncover and document the stories hidden within the pages of these Nazi-looted books is more than just cataloging; itS a powerful act of remembrance and restitution. Brandeis University is shining a light on a dark chapter of history, ensuring that the silenced voices of those who lost their homes, libraries, and cultural heritage are heard. By identifying and preserving these “material survivors,” Brandeis is honoring the memory of the victims and creating a tangible link to the past, serving as a reminder of the devastating consequences of intolerance and the importance of safeguarding cultural heritage for future generations. The search for these lost treasures is not only a testament to Lou Hartman’s dedication, but a beacon of hope, highlighting the enduring power of knowledge and the importance of confronting our history, warts and all.
