Should we buy German products? By Michael Freund (April 18) - An electronics store in an Israeli shopping mall hardly seems like the appropriate place to broach the weighty issues of collective moral responsibility and human ethics. With its dazzling array of material goods and foodstuffs, malls seem intentionally designed to appeal to just about every part of the human body except for one's conscience. And yet, there I was, amid the glitter, facing a simple yet pressing dilemma: the only available models of the item in question were made in Germany, a country I had been taught to scrupulously avoid supporting in any way possible. As a youth, I had been raised to believe that since the Germans had killed six million of our people, the last thing we should do was reward them by buying their products. Many of my childhood friends had lost relatives to the Nazi extermination machine, and the Jewish schools I attended always made sure to commemorate the Holocaust with moving ceremonies and special assemblies. Every year, a school official who survived the camps would roll up his sleeve and show us the tattoo on his arm, as he broke down in tears describing how his relatives had been mercilessly killed. My own family had not emerged from the maelstrom unscathed: Isaac Kottler, my grandmother's first cousin, was murdered in Auschwitz. The more I learned about what the Nazis had done to us, the more incensed I became. Visits to Yad Vashem and to Poland only reinforced my conviction that elementary issues of Jewish dignity required us to refrain from buying German-made goods. But as I grew older, my stubborn refusal to buy German products became the object of mounting criticism, as more and more people would challenge me on the point. Fifty years have passed, they would say, and today's Germans cannot be held responsible for the actions of their fathers. Germany is a strong supporter of Israel, they would argue, and it is time to put the past behind us. The young Israeli clerk in the electronics store in the mall seemed equally astonished by my hesitation. Israel is awash in German products, from electric shavers to taxicabs, so what was the point of my personal boycott? It sounds melodramatic, but standing there in the mall, all of Jewish history flashed before my eyes. The expulsion from Spain in 1492, the Chmielnicki massacres, the pogroms, the persecutions. If I refused to buy products made in a country that had mistreated Jews at some point in history, there would be little left to choose from. And yet, there is something different about the Holocaust, something that resonates far more strongly. As detached as many of us might be from it on a personal level, the events of World War II are still too close, too emotional on a national level. Survivors and eyewitnesses still abound, albeit in rapidly declining numbers. Perpetrators and collaborators are still being pursued, with occasional courtroom verdicts reminding us that justice has yet to catch up with many of the murderers. Indeed, the ranks of those who deny the Holocaust appear to swell every year, as neo-Nazi groups gain in popularity in the US and Europe. The assault on historical memory will likely intensify, requiring each of us to redouble our efforts never to forget. Recent years have produced new revelations about many German companies' uses and abuses of slave labor during the Nazi period. Their belated attempts to offer "compensation" to the victims, and their transparent efforts to drag out the process while the aging population of potential beneficiaries dies out, clearly demonstrate that the Jewish people's account with Germany, morally and financially, remains far from settled. In today's world of realpolitik, Israel may have little choice but to accept Germany's belated attempts at friendship and support. As individuals, we must all make our own decisions as to how to relate to Germany with the passage of time. But as I left the electronics store empty-handed, I was confident I had made the right decision. Because, in the final analysis, it is an insistence on remembering that compels me to check the "Made in" label every time I make a purchase. By doing so, I force myself to stop and think, not once a year, but consistently and repeatedly, about those who were fortunate enough to survive, and those who were not. Refusing to buy German products will not bring back those who were killed, nor will it punish those who participated in the horrors. But, for me, it serves to reaffirm not only that the memory of the Jews lives on, but that Jewish memory is alive as well. And that, perhaps, is the best revenge of all. (The writer served as deputy director of communications and policy planning in the Prime Minister's Office from 1996 to 1999.)