“She took from me the belief that absolute evil exists in this world, and the belief that I was avenging it and fighting against it. For that girl, I embodied absolute evil ... Since then I have been left without my Holocaust, and since then everything in my life has assumed a new belongingness is blurred, pride is lacking, belief is faltering, contrition is heightening, forgiveness is being born.”
The Girl Who Stole My Holocaust is the deeply moving memoir of Chayut’s journey from eager Zionist conscript on the front line of Operation Defensive Shield to leading campaigner against the Israeli occupation. As he attempts to make sense of his own life as well as his place within the wider conflict around him, he slowly starts to question his soldier’s calling, Israel’s justifications for invasion, and the ever-present problem of historical victimhood.
Noam Chayut’s exploration of a young soldier’s life is one of the most compelling memoirs to emerge from Israel for a long time.
This is the October pick for my in-person book club. I was interested in the premise - a memoir from an Israeli soldier who ended up speaking out against military occupation in Gaza and other regions. But for some reason this is difficult to read. He writes in a bit of a circular way, and there is a lot of repetition. The content matter he knows the best is military jargon, something I'm not sure I always grasp.
As far as this little girl stealing his holocaust, I get what he's trying to do and it's clearly an important moment in his life, but I think in fact it was him stealing her safety. So I felt uncomfortable every time this was repeated, which was often in only 250 pages.
Chayut is a leading member of a group of Israeli former service personnel who in recent years have become increasingly vocal in opposition to the occupation of the West Bank and Gaza, and of Israel’s continuing denial of Palestinian statehood. This memoir, then, is an intervention that can be read at two levels. The first, a general one, centres on a critical exploration of the stories states tell about themselves to justify their actions and build identity and adherence. The second is a more direct intervention in Israeli politics and the continuing occupation of the Palestinian territories. On both fronts, it is powerful and compelling.
The narrative turns around what Chayut presents as a profound contradiction. On the one hand there is Israel’s originary story – its narrative of itself as a safe haven for Jews in the wake of genocide, and related to that a sense of national moral worth, as that safe haven. Chayut presents himself as a believer, as one who absorbed this sense of self and sense of nationhood through education and involvement in the rituals of state and the rituals of remembering – rituals that all nation states and most nations have, although they vary (I read this aspect through the lens provided by Paul Connerton’s outstanding How Societies Remember). Not only does he see himself as a believer, but that he took this attitude of a moral standing into his military service, in his case involving enforcement of the occupation on the West Bank.
It is in his military service that he meets the ‘girl who stole his holocaust’ – not that he knew who she was; she is a young Palestinian (he suggests perhaps 10 years old) who in her play is interrupted by his unit and just for a moment registers fear. It is this fleeting moment of fear that eats away at his sense of moral justification and forces him to rethink his relationship not only with the Palestinians he has encountered during his military service, but with his role in sustaining the Occupation and the Occupation itself, which he sees increasingly as unjust oppression. From here, it is a short step to collecting other soldiers’ testimony, to beginning an involvement in the peace movement and acting against the occupation. It is a powerfully told narrative that draws on the personal to make bigger more general points, as individual interactions become representative of state oppression.
Chayut takes on big issues, and in doing so grapples with one of the most significant political issues of the 20th century. It would be easy to get it wrong, but he strikes a balance centred on the narratives of nationhood, which in turn allows him to link the Holocaust to the Occupation, and in doing so cut to the quick of questions of national self-image. He constructs his authority on the basis of his experience as well as his reflections on wider social issues – but at the heart is his reflection on his time in the military, and the stories other service personnel tell. It seems, though, that there is a step he cannot take – he critiques Israel’s sense of moral self-worth through the Occupation as oppressive, but seems unable to take the extra step to explore that moral sense as an element of Israel’s settler colonial status. As is the case with many, he does not explore whether questioning the legitimacy of the Occupation has any implications for Israel’s theocratic basis; I fully recognise that doing so would be to take a much bigger and much, much more difficult step, as well as changing the engagement with the argument he is making from within Israel.
The book was originally published in Israel in 2010, with an English translation in 2013 (and all credit to Tal Haran as translator – that is engaging, readable and fluid). If anything, since then and despite the withdrawal from Gaza, the Occupation has become more oppressive as both the Israeli state and its major allies, especially the USA, continue to turn the Occupied Territories on the West Bank into a de facto and de jure part of Israel as military occupation becomes civilian colonisation. If the result of Israeli elections in the last 10 years are anything to go by, this book (and those like it) is more important now than when it was first published. This will challenge most of us to (re)think our understanding of one of the world’s thorniest conflict.
This was a HARROWING book. An insider account from an IDF soldier who then was ‘awoken’ to the atrocities he saw and committed and went on to co-found the org Breaking the Silence.
I didn’t really know what I was getting into when I started it but wow. Content aside (which I’ll get into), Chayut’s writing style was fascinating. It was dry, sarcastic, and really blunt. His writing was almost funny at points (even as it was relaying horror) because of the tone with which he wrote. So that was the first surprising and noteworthy aspect of this book.
The next, and most important, was the stories he told. As someone who grew up in a pretty explicitly Zionist family/academic background, and who has since spent 10 years trying to unlearn that and relearn the truth, I’ve never read such an honest recounting of the horrifying crimes that IDF soldiers commit and see others in their cohorts commit.
TW: stories about soldiers taking over Palestinians’ houses as their home bases so they could get a “good nights sleep” and locking the Palestinians in their own kitchens. Or the story of the IDF medic who did an “autopsy” on a Palestinian in the middle of the street for a “medical lesson.” Or the border crossing dehumanizations, the propaganda of the soldiers who come to America to ask for money…this book was chockfull of really hard to read stuff. I really commend Chayut and his fellow Breaking the Silence soldiers for being born and raised within this norm and somehow breaking through to see the light. While it seems obvious to many of us outside Israel of what is “right and wrong,” I can’t imagine how hard this might be for people who have no other perspectives or realities.
I think this should be required reading for every single person, but particularly those Jewish people (I know many—I used to be one) who wear those green IDF shirts with pride.
Israeli left and “pro-Palestinian/pro-peace” israelis have a serious existential problem. They oppose israel’s occupation and the ongoing settlements while standing and living on occupied territories and settlements themselves. The idea seems to be that what we occupied is enough and we need to stop!
Any 1 minute thinking would only lead them to give up on Israeli nationality and leave or call for a Palestinian state from the river to the sea as it has always been where they would be Jewish Palestinian citizens (surprise: this is how it has been for hundreds of years!).
You can feel in the book how alien the zionist israeli is from his environment like typical colonialists. You can see how they just don’t fit in and make huge effort to adapt to the language, culture, weather, landscape of their surroundings.
One great thing about the book is that it provides insight on the mindset of the israeli soldier/officer and exposes the atrocities they commit.
I heard of this book in Masha Gessen’s recent New Yorker piece on Germany’s regulations against antisemitism. It delivers what I expected, an earnest personal story about a change of heart. More than that, I learned from the author’s early life, when as he puts it he still had his Holocaust to give his life meaning, in a way I’d never heard before about the sense of Israeli nationhood that underlies so much of the events of the past few months, 75 years, or century depending how you count. Chayut reveals some internal contradictions that stay unresolved, but I didn’t expect resolution. The writing is not bad, a bit too clever in places but it works. 4.5 stars at least.
This book has its upsides and downsides, both of which I hope to explore, at least superficially, in this review.
I'll start with the good.
I admire Chayut for his bravery in exposing crimes that many IDF soldiers commit; this book, while it was not eye-opening, was certainly sobering for me, as a Zionist, in a way that few books really are. He spares us no moment of self-reflection and of compassion towards the Palestinian (which is NOT a bad thing; please don't misunderstand me).
In contrast to many of the readers, actually, I really appreciated his writing style. I am upset that I can't find the book in Hebrew, since I would have much preferred to read it in the original, but the translation is actually very well done and very lively and conversational. I realize that it may be a turn-off for some readers since, culturally, Israelis and Jews both tell stories in that way-- short, amusing chunks.
On the other hand, I found his story to be extremely one-sided. He rarely takes a moment to consider the bigger picture on the OTHER side. While I sincerely appreciate his efforts in talking about many of the atrocities going on in the Occupied Territories, he never once talks about the atrocities going on the other side, and why they are occupied in the first place. This brings me to the conclusion (and reminder) that this book is a MEMOIR and should not be taken as unbiased political truth or fact; it is, like any memoir, the author's truth.
Also, I was very angry with the way Chayut addresses the Holocaust in the book. He takes it very lightly, and sometimes even belittles his experiences with it. I don't feel like a comparison between the Israeli Occupation and the Holocaust is really legitimate.
What captivated me was the cover picture and the title. Reading the inside sleeve of the book, piqued my interest,as I had never before heard of a book or an opposing view point such as the one the author set out to elucidate. However, the book was a disappointment. The writing did nothing to capture the essence of why Noam as an Israeli soldier, came to question the invasion against the occupation by Palestinians. Instead it portrayed Noam as a self righteous, arrogant weakling!
' "the most moral army in the world" ... That mantra was always repeated to us, enabling us to detach ourselves from reality.'
Some of the most powerful writing on corrupt and morally bankrupt systems comes from those who have at one time been active supporters and believers in those systems. 'The Girl Who Stole My Holocaust, a memoir' is one such example. The book records the authors own life, from a kibbutz childhood steeped in the Zionist founding myths and his growth into a true believer in blood and soil. A desire to serve and protect his homeland and people saw Noam happily join the military. He recalls the selling of the military life at a military presentation in school:
'... it was an appeal to us boys, with our hunger for power and sex. What sells better than a slim, tall blonde climbing out of a tank? And not just any tank, but the "world's best tank" in the "world's strongest army". What could be more attractive to an adolescent....'
He describes how he was '... one of those who told the commander who cheated on exams and who opened a map during navigation manoeuvres. I had been instructed that "credibility and truth are foremost in the army" but I never realised they didn't mean it.' During his service in the Occupied Territories the author had what eventually became his epiphany. He describes the day during a military operation he found himself opposite a young Palestinian girl, recalling '.... you froze on the spot, grew very pale and looked terrified. You neither screamed nor ran off. You only stood there facing me with a horrified face and your black eyes staring...'. For Noam Chayut that encounter '... took away my belief that there is absolute evil in the world. She took from me the belief that I was avenging my people's destruction by absolute evil, that I was fighting absolute evil. Even if I was not a cruel as the absolute - Nazi - evil in the shadow of which I had grown up, I didn't have to achieve its perfection and force in order to fulfil my role in her life. No, I was merely who I was, playing the role of absolute evil in the play of her life. As soon as I realised that in her eyes I myself was absolute evil, the absolute evil that had governed me until then began to disintegrate ... and ever since I have been without my Holocaust.'
Noam completed his military service and was even selected to go to the USA on a fundraising and PR trip on behalf of Israel. It was only later that the simmering doubts began to blossom. He describes his journey of discovery across Israel where he met those living on the periphery, but as a civilian rather than a soldier now. This led him eventually to the Israeli organisation for ex-service personnel 'Breaking the Silence' which aims to do just that and give former conscripts a platform to talk about the reality of their experience. He writes 'I gathered many testimonies, and listened to others gathered by my friends. In the first months I was stunned by the dimensions of violence and humiliation they revealed. The excuse of "rotten apples" within the "moral occupation" cart disappeared. In its stead, a whole system of organised evil was revealed.' The crimes described should cause outrage but as Noam notes there is something of a wish to accept and ignore, especially officially where silence in the face of accusation works to bury a charge in a society that is increasingly intolerant.
It seems to be a rule of humanity that as soon as one group is in a position of power over another (see for example The Third Wave) it will start to abuse and persecute the "other" mercilessly while justifying its actions in its own eyes claiming god given rights and superiority by dint of creed, colour and might. The British Empire honed this to perfection with its mission of benevolence, with a cloak of well dressed lies thrown over a global "civilising" mission of truly genocidal proportions. Against these historic crimes maybe Israel's behaviour - which can at least be understood in part as rooted in a survival instinct born of the experience of industrial age genocide - doesn't seem quite so bad. However, times change and claims to enlightenment and civilised behaviour require actions to match. Israel's long standing problem is its desire to present itself as, and be seen as, a "normal" liberal democracy, a predominantly white, Western oriented paradise island surrounded by a hostile other, a normal state that maintains its normality through apartheid and brutal force which has become a spiral dance of never ending death and destruction of human bodies, minds and conscience. As governments globally embrace increasingly intolerant, nationalist and racist positions, Israel, like many other states, will no doubt find the world less disturbed by its behaviour and will even feel encouraged to press on with its policy of expulsions, ethnic cleansing and the stealing of land. In much of the 'liberal' world to criticise Israel is to faces charges of anti-Semitism, the term now shockingly abused and devalued. It is with these things in mind that the testimony and writing of individuals like Noam Chayut is especially vital, seeking as it does, to address the hatreds on which power systems thrive and bring repentance, forgiveness and hope where there is currently so little.
This is an excellent and moving account by someone who went from true belief to utter rejection of the system that he had so happily embraced as a result of experiencing the reality. As such this is a powerful testimony that should be read and pondered by all.
'...I told them how I felt as a checkpoint commander, how fatigue aggregated with fear to become apathy as the days rolled by, how human compassion and judgement are gradually lost. I described the mental process that a soldier at the checkpoint undergoes, how at first he tries to be nice, to smile, explain, keep calm. How, eventually, he turns into an automaton, and how at the end of the process he no longer sees the Palestinians as human beings.'
The title sounds like a sequel to Stieg Larsson series. Apparently the title of Hebrew original is Thief of my Holocaust. This is an autobiographical story of an Israeli soldier, who after few years of service realized, that for people living in Palestinian territories he might be an embodiment of an ultimate evil. He compares it to epiphany, some kind of revelation of higher order. There are 3 parts in this story - his youth preparing him to be a good citizen of most oppressed nation, to be a good soldier in the world's most moral army. Then comes an epiphany - spark of fear in eyes of a Palestinian girl. From this point he notices multiple cases of brutal abuse of power. He resigns from the army, takes a break - travels to India, makes a hike across Israeli desert. Finally he takes action - joins Break the Silence movement, which publicizes power abuse of Israeli forces. Very honest, personal story, which in my opinion makes it sometimes difficult to read. Sometimes it looks like the author wrote this book to explain to himself his state of mind.
For me, the concept of this book (and the organization Breaking the Silence) are important pieces to convincing the mainstream US culture that Israel is an apartheid state that has been murdering and violating human rights for decades. Coming from the perspective of a former IDF soldier, it shows his personal realization that what he has been doing is part of a systemic oppression machine. It definitely still had a couple of cringey parts in my opinion, where the author did not seem to recognize his own privilege and oppressive mindset, but overall the truth-telling from an apparent “insider” was valuable and hopefully if you were skeptical about whether Israel is an apartheid state, the bare facts and stories here illustrate that Israel’s actions are not about “fighting terror” or “defending innocent people” and are actually about creating terror, powerlessness, and frustration for Palestinians. This is worse than South African apartheid and the US government is funding it all.
Noam Chayut writes his personal story of growing up Zionist, playing his trumpet at the Holocaust Memorial Day programs, and eventually joining the Israeli army. He is surprised at the way soldiers treat Palestinians in the Occupied Territories and he questions his belief that the Israeli army is moral army. In his attempt to make sense of his life, he joins Breaking the Silence which records soldiers testimonies of their military service. It's a very personal story but one that should be told.
A powerful and courageous memoir of an Israeli soldier who in attempting to avenge the evil of his heritage discovers himself turning into a similar evil...
Unlike anything I’ve read about Israel. You want to believe that nice Jewish boys wouldn’t do these things. You want to say that it’s fictionalized. It may be true that the author has dramatized some events to make the story flow better. But you cannot escape the author’s conclusion that the IDF represents pure evil to Palestinians, in the same way that, 80 years ago, Nazis represented pure evil to Jews.
As I think more about my image of nice Jewish boys being kind and gentle, I realize that a perfect storm of factors can turn nice Israeli boys (such as the author) into thugs when given the opportunity. Because:
— Boys of Noam’s generation are the grandchildren of holocaust survivors, and were exposed to their grandparents’ dysfunction. Because even the sanest of holocaust survivors were misshapen and bore scars. How could it be otherwise?
— Their attitude towards Palestinians was shaped by the heroic narratives of Israel’s formation they learned in school. I don’t mean to criticize Israeli education as unfairly jingoistic. The history taught in American schools is equally heroic and just as (if not more) one-sided.
—Their attitudes were further shaped by their own experiences in the intifadas. If a Palestinian bomb killed your sister while she was shopping for bread, might you want to revenge her death when given the chance?
—Finally, they are presented with situations where revenge-taking is free. They are well-armed, fighting teenagers armed with rocks. So they can, at last, revenge their great aunt, who died at Auschwitz, and their sister, who died at the market in Tel Aviv.
What would you do, given that chance? Especially if ordered to make a show of force? And if your platoon mates were depending on you to follow those orders, as they were doing?
I am no hero. I know I would do what everyone else was doing.
Incredibly important book, one of the first of its kind, lending a deeply personal view into Israeli society and its security apparatus aka occupational force. As an outsider we rarely get a look into the psyche of Israeli society (or rather: the Jewish-Israeli majority), how paranoia lies beneath constant readiness for aggressive action, and how & why fear and a sense of supremacy is built in.
It’s a personal story, relatable, mundane, exceptional in its honesty of not hiding from the shamefulness of his actions (and those of his comrades, superiors, the system as a whole). The author’s own trauma from experiencing violence – physically, psychologically, structurally, intellectually – as the perpetrator (!) rips him open and makes him sensitive to 1. his own personal history, his upbringing, his beliefs (the good and the evil), his fears & obsessions, and 2. the people subject to the system he is part and perpetrator of. He becomes empathetic and vulnerable to Palestinians, those he was taught to not recognize as equals, let alone brethren.
In the laying bare of reality, the humanity behind/in/at the end of violence, there is poetry.
I was intrigued by the title of this book since I got the idea that this might be a memoir about Israel's cruelty (random and deliberate) toward the Palestinians. And it is. The author is a former soldier who served in the Israel Defense Forces in the interim between the first and second Intifada. Noam Chayut grew up in Israel and traces how he was indoctrinated in a blind love for the "morality" of the Israeli army and his actual experiences as a soldier. The Girl Who Stole My Holocaust: A Memoir shows the personal realization of one man who has an epiphany that his Holocaust isn't the only one, and good and evil can shift. This time, he has become the evil being visited upon innocents.
Perhaps it was the translation that lost the potential poetry in his words, but the repetitive, privileged tone is really hard to escape for the first half of the book. I found the inclusion of his erections and masturbation odd, as they weren't really contextually necessary. Amidst this is the story of how nationalistic ideology is nurtured in young people, like the author, from a young age. It raises this dilemma between acknowledging intergenerational trauma and becoming blinded by nationalistic protectiveness. The experiences he describes after joining Breaking the Silence were more reflective of what I expected/hoped for from this book, and are a powerful look into his experiences in the IDF and the shift in his perspective of said experiences.
"I was stunned by the dimensions of violence and humiliation they revealed. The excuse of 'rotten apples' within the 'moral occupation' cart disappeared. In its stead, a whole system of organized evil was revealed."
An eye-opening examination of the systematic violence within the Israeli Occupation Forces, told by a former IOF member as he converts into a believer in Palestinian liberation. The story goes on some random, personal tangents, and toward the end, shrinks back in willingness to condemn the occupation as a whole, but is a good read for those who doubt the stories of the IOF's discrimination toward, and murder of, civilians and innocents.
I appreciated the writing style here - candid and diary-like, I feel like it enabled a more empathetic journey for the reader as the author's worldview is transformed. I thought the return to the enduring theme - and elusiveness - of "absolute evil" was a thought-provoking lens from which to view both the Holocaust and Israeli occupation, and really suited the narrative as well. Finally, moral and political aspects of the book aside, I also found this to be an informative and immersive introduction to on-the-ground realities of the conflict as someone who knew relatively little about it.
The story of a military man who slowly realized that he had power and he was abusing it. This should be studied in military and police academies. It's not a sudden revelation but an incremental self-questioning. Actually, I think we should all read it and think about how easy it is to take advantage of people who have no power to fight back.
I reviewed this for Publishers' Weekly about 10 years ago. I don't have the files any more.
A powerful book that lays bare the early indoctrination of the Zionist mentality of conquest in Israel and why they must conquer the Palestinians at all costs. Especially poignant reading as of June 2025 when the genocide in Gaza rages relentlessly on. This is a hugely brave, insightful memoir that deserves to be read by many.
Self-proclaimed "enlightened" Zionist recounts the unpunished war crimes committed by him and his IOF fellows while equating his own suffering to that of his victims.
Disjointed at its best, racist and juvenile at its worst.
I will acknowledge, the writing in the English translation is definitely a bit clunky at times, but I think overall this book is a great reflection on guilt, honesty, and generational trauma. It's also a very interesting look into the history of the organization Breaking the Silence.
An important read but I couldn’t continue to read the last chapters. Too awful
Returned to finish
Several keepers: “Being at the checkpoint, on its other side, was the most profound psychological transformation I had ever undergone. I recommend it whole-heartedly to any checkpoints soldier whose mind has been scathed.”…
“If you could steal the Holocaust from all the hundreds of thousands of Israeli soldiers, you’d probably be free along with all of Palestine.”…
I appreciated the unique perspective this offered into the Israel-Palestine conflict. I cannot say I particularly enjoyed the writing style, but I still recommend reading this for a personal account of very real atrocities.
There were things about this book that I really liked and things that were a bit reaching as to why they were included.
I've always been an avid reader of Holocaust books (since I was 8 when I read the Rise and Fall of the Third Reich) and have always had an internal struggle to understand why it happened and how man could be so cruel to his fellow man.
To have reached adulthood and realize that the same scenario was being repeated by the very people who vowed "never again" has always been one of the cruelest ironies I can imagine.
It is brave of Noam to be an Israeli soldier who can look inside himself and see the twisted reality in the Middle East shows a man who can hopefully help lead the region to a more sane reality.
The biggest con to this book, in my opinion, is the slightly disorganized writing style and lack of focus.
I read this book in a single morning and choked back tears. Yeah, it's really hard for me to read this and still love my family members, but I managed to only feel the same pride in my cousins, who I believe served as honorably as possible. Despite my strong beliefs, I still think it's worth reading as long as it's taken as one soldier's story. The low review isn't because of the content, but the writing style which sadly comes across a bit like St. Augustine discussing stealing pears, with excessive self flagellation until I wanted to shake him and say "Get a grip," because war isn't fought with rose petals.
Yes, it's terrible what is happening, and I am sad for both sides, but I think it's a lot more complex that the book explains. A better book is "Company C" by Haim Watzman.
This is a very heart-felt memoir about a soldier who tries desperately to overcome his tragic past. Even though, I love the story, I have to admit that the writing style is a little bit disjointed for me. At the same time, I also understands that could have been because it must have been very difficult for the author to express how he feels, let alone putting it in writing.