The name of EVERY Jew Who Ever Lived: Jewish Genealogy Amid Renewed Antisemitism

Embed from Getty Images

A  name isn’t just a label; it’s an identity, a legacy, and an enduring bond linking each individual to the larger whole—to humanity and to the chain of generations. It’s something deeply personal yet collectively vital, something that underlines the profound Jewish belief that remembering and preserving names is both an act of spiritual continuity and historical survival.

Throughout history, however, oppressors have repeatedly recognized the symbolic and practical power of names. Jewish communities have been forced, time and again, to surrender their identities through imposed name changes, bans on traditional naming, or even the replacement of names with dehumanizing numbers. From medieval Spain to Nazi Germany, names became instruments of identification, humiliation, exclusion, and ultimately, erasure.

In Nazi Germany, the forced addition of the names “Israel” for men and “Sara” for women to official documents served as a bureaucratic brand, identifying Jews instantly to authorities, isolating them administratively and socially. Names that were once proud markers of identity and heritage became tools of stigma. Later, in concentration and extermination camps, even these imposed names were stripped away, replaced by numbers tattooed onto arms. The horrifying process of becoming a mere number is a recurring theme in nearly every Holocaust survivor’s testimony—an ultimate act of dehumanization and an attempt to erase the identity and existence of every Jew who ever lived.

In their zeal for destruction, the Nazis, meticulous and chillingly effective genealogists, systematically documented Jewish families only to annihilate them—literally eradicating not just lives, but the names and family histories connecting generations. With each murdered Jew, the Nazis also symbolically destroyed “the name of Israel,” attempting to erase the Jewish people from history itself.

Yet, despite centuries of oppression, Jewish communities consistently resisted the erasure of their names, whether through clandestine naming ceremonies during forced conversions in medieval Spain, by maintaining Hebrew names secretly under oppressive Tsarist regimes, or through acts of defiance in Nazi-occupied Europe, where forged papers bore false names to save lives. Each of these acts of quiet resistance preserved identity, dignity, and memory against overwhelming odds.

Today, names remain battlegrounds. The Stolpersteine (“stumbling stones”) across Europe exemplify this vividly: small brass plaques embedded in sidewalks marking the last known residences of Holocaust victims. Each Stolperstein bears a victim’s name, a modest yet profoundly powerful act of remembrance, personalizing the vast scale of loss into intimate, human terms. Recently, however, these stones have themselves become targets. In cities like Dordrecht and Brussels, vandals have defaced Stolpersteine with hateful slogans, perversely weaponizing Jewish memory by conflating Holocaust victims with contemporary political conflicts. Shockingly, one of my own former students publicly defended these desecrations, claiming them as justified political statements. Such incidents highlight a disturbing reality: antisemitism today cloaks itself in political justifications, reducing once again Jewish names into targets of hatred.

In response to these threats, contemporary Jewish genealogical initiatives, such as the Documentation of Jewish Records Worldwide (DoJR)—spearheaded by Jewish genealogy pioneers like Dr. Sallyann Sack and the L’Dor V’Dor Foundation—have taken on profound new significance. Leveraging advanced artificial intelligence, DoJR efficiently identifies, analyzes, and links genealogical records, creating a living archive that actively counters attempts to distort or erase Jewish identities.  Initially designed primarily for academic or cultural purposes, these initiatives aimed at meticulously preserving genealogical records and creating a comprehensive catalogue (JCat) of Jewish lives across generations. However, in today’s climate of resurgent antisemitism, their role has unexpectedly and urgently expanded beyond archival preservation and documenting the names, familial connections, and historical footprints of Jewish communities. These initiatives now serve as living testimonies—tangible evidence of individual and collective Jewish existence—that directly counter contemporary antisemitic narratives seeking to distort, diminish, or erase Jewish identity and history.

Jewish Genealogy, then, emerges not merely as historical research but as a potent ethical and practical tool in combating antisemitism. Names, after all, are the most intimate, personal possession anyone holds. They are proof of existence, recognition, and humanity. Documenting these names not only restores dignity to victims of historical oppression but actively protects contemporary Jewish communities by asserting their undeniable place in history.

Indeed, Jewish tradition itself deeply intertwines genealogical consciousness with spiritual and communal life. The Torah, in addition to or because of being a sacred religious text, is itself an extensive genealogical monument, meticulously recording generations of names and family lines. From its earliest passages, it underscores the importance of remembering one’s ancestors, thus preserving a collective memory that is as vital today as ever.

Preserving names and passing them on from generation to generation—l’dor v’dor—is not merely a tradition; it is a profound act of resistance, remembrance, and hope, creating an unbroken chain. Ultimately, the power of a name lies in its ability to transcend time and tragedy. It connects individuals to communities, communities to histories, and histories to futures. Every act of naming, every name remembered, documented, and honored, defies the oppressors who sought—and still seek—to erase them. And in reclaiming and preserving our names, we affirm, again and again, the sacred dignity and enduring humanity of every Jew who ever lived.