Dark Times: The Double Tragedy of European Jews

In today's world, thank G-d, we don't know the true horror of plague. We pray during the High Holidays, "end the plague," and we might imagine it as something akin to a more deadly pandemic like COVID-19. But in the medieval ages, the plague was the great fear, a dark phenomenon against which humanity was utterly helpless. The sights accompanying the plague were terrifying: death at every corner, entire cities turned into ghost towns, streets devoid of life, carts full of the dead, and a profound fear in every eye.

In the age of modern medicine, humanity has, with G-d's help, learned to cope with epidemics. But in 14th-century Europe, physicians were baffled by the carts of the dead and the misery of the sick. The Black Death was the deadliest plague in history. In Europe alone, it claimed a horrific toll of 25 million lives—about 50% of the population.

Yet for the Jews, the plague was a calamity doubled. Aside from the dreadful suffering and loss of life caused by the plague itself, their Christian neighbors accused them of plotting to cause the plague. Across Europe, Jews were captured and tortured, leading to so-called "confessions" of a Jewish conspiracy to poison the wells.

Throughout Europe, Jews faced violent attacks, especially in France, Switzerland, and Germany. The violence began in the city of Toulon in France and spread to Germany and Switzerland. During these attacks, 510 Jewish communities were targeted, and thousands of Jews were murdered. In many communities, Jews were given the choice: death or conversion. In Strasbourg, France, the authorities took the Jews to the cemetery and burned 2,000 alive. One priest present, Friedrich Kleuzner, described it: "At dawn, an indescribable scene filled the streets of Strasbourg: there was the sound of marching soldiers, advancing to the rhythm of wild songs, accompanied by the weeping of freed women as they broke the barriers that closed the city. When the crowd reached the Jewish quarter, men and women, children and the elderly were mercilessly slaughtered. In the burning houses, entire families vanished without a trace."

Another priest, named Konigshafen, described the martyrdom this way: "In the year 1349, on St. Valentine’s Day, the Jews were burned in Strasbourg. In that city, there were around 2,000 Jews—men, women, and children—all brought to their cemetery. A large platform was built, and they were burned there. Those who wanted to convert to Christianity were saved. Many chose to die as Jews rather than convert. All their possessions were taken by the locals. The debts owed to them were canceled, and the municipality took the money found. Thus, the Jews of Strasbourg were destroyed."

After this horrific massacre, the Jewish survivors were expelled from the city for 100 years. A similar terrible pogrom happened in Basel, Switzerland: the agitated crowd built a large wooden house, placed 600 Jews inside, and set it ablaze. Similar pogroms occurred in Jewish communities across German-speaking regions and France.

The impact of these pogroms was immense. Jewish life in Western Europe was devastated, and the exiled Jews began migrating eastward to the Kingdom of Poland. This eastward migration paved the way for the formation of the largest Jewish communities in the world, in what became known as Jewish Poland and Lithuania.

Today, Strasbourg is a central city in France, home to some of the European Union's governing bodies, the European Parliament, the European Court of Justice, and the Council of Europe. The last two, especially the latter, are charged with defending human rights and justice. Yet for us, the Jews, we have a long memory, and no, Europeans cannot preach to us about justice, especially not from the city of Strasbourg.