Liesbeth Heenk of Amsterdam Publishers in conversation with Nicola Hanefeld, author of ‘The Unspeakable. Breaking my Family's Silence Surrounding the Holocaust’
July 2025.
What motivated you to break the silence surrounding your family’s Holocaust history?
My father sent me the passport of one of his aunts a year before he died in 2005; he was in his 80th year. The passport was issued in 1935, and there I was in 2004, holding it in my hands. In the passport he noted relatives whom I’d never heard of and he said they were murdered by the Nazis. I wanted to understand why my paternal family hadn’t spoken about their losses.
You’ve said you blended your personal experiences while doing the historical research for your book. How did you do that?
It was a bit like changing gears; I could move to one realm and then back to the other. The fate of my family was intimately connected with dramatic political upheavals and WWII. Nothing I researched was independent of time and context. I found myself shifting from the historical factual level to the personal level - observing how the research impacted me. These two different levels became interwoven as I progressed with the writing. I had to decide what gets priority in the narrative, when, and where. Occasionally, the levels mixed during my research, and I experienced sudden and unsettling shifts of consciousness. For short moments, I was back in that horrendous time, but it was my experience now.
What was the most difficult and emotionally challenging part of writing 'The Unspeakable'?
Researching Theresienstadt, the Łódź ghetto, Auschwitz and Treblinka and then writing about what my relatives went through in these horrific places. I had to further my knowledge to research this book beyond the ‘general knowledge Holocaust zone.’ Facing the ‘real Holocaust zone’ with its unspeakable depravity, endless suffering and loss of humanity was something my family had not openly faced. I discovered I had an inherited protective wall within me and I had to dissolve wall to be able to write this book. That took several weeks and was emotionally exhausting because of my unconscious avoidance strategies.
How did you deal with the overwhelming sadness during your research, and what helped you cope?
I learnt that the best strategy was to let the mindnumbing sadness have some space … and trust that it would ebb in its own time, which it did. I never fought or suppressed it. Once, I had a phase where the anguish was so dominating that I spent some time with a psychologist friend trying to work through it. But there was little to work through. It seemed not to be my sadness but the endless desperation and hopelessness that millions of Jews and other persecuted people experienced then. It was as if the sadness was still out there and I had access to it for fleeting moments, and it overwhelmed me. I never knew when the grief would well up; it was unpredictable.
How did you persist through the emotional and psychological challenges?
The deeper I went in, the more people knew what I was researching, and they supported me; a caring network developed. My cousin was the mainstay of this support. Jules is a year younger than me; her mum was my father’s sister. So she’d also grown up with ‘the unspeakable’, and we did a lot of weeping (not talking) on the phone. She lives in London, I live in Freiburg in southwest Germany. My first and second editors, were both friends and colleagues. They were present, gentle and endlessly understanding as we worked through the manuscript. Then, a historian in Prague manifested out of nowhere (through Facebook, of all places), and he was endlessly supportive, too. So empathetic, mindful relationships gave me the strength to persist. I would not have managed on my own.
Was there a specific moment when you felt a significant breakthrough in your research or writing process?
Yes, there was a certain eerie and tragic online moment, when I finally discovered the fate of my great-grandmother, Therese. It was in the summer of 2021. I’d been searching on and off for her since 2004 but wrongly using the German version of her name. My family were German-speaking Czech Jews, and how Czech and German existed side by side in Czechoslovakia was one of my challenges during the research. I discovered her fate by using the Arolsen Archives data bank; her name came up in the Czech version. She was sent to the death camp Treblinka in October 1942, aged 76. That was so endlessly shocking and sad that it motivated me to seriously get down to writing the book. I then spent one and three-quarters of a year researching and writing the first draft.
How did you balance your emotions with historical facts?
I spent a lot of time reading about the Nazi camps to try to understand (if ‘understanding’ is possible), where my relatives were sent and what happened in these dark places. There is a long literature list in the book. That alone was quite challenging, and I often had to take breaks from reading to digest the horrific content. I never pushed or disciplined myself to continue researching the factual side of the narrative when I felt overwhelmed. But I nevertheless, of course, wanted to get the facts right, that took time. So, by allowing the research to be an ‘organic process’ I balanced my need for respite with going in deep enough to get historical facts right.
How did your personal experiences shape the narrative and perspective in the book?
The question driving the research and writing was, ‘why had I never heard of these relatives?’ So, growing up in England, knowing next to nothing about my Jewish heritage (my family was non-religious), was the initial primary personal experience that drove both the narrative and perspective. However, having lived for over 40 years in Germany (why I live in Germany is part of the book’s story), Errinerungskultur also played a role. That means ‘the culture of remembrance’ and refers to societally anchored activities reminding the present-day German population of Nazi Germany’s crimes against humanity. Germany rigorously addresses its past, and it does so conscientiously.
How did such a painful subject impact your mental and emotional well-being?
I spent many days in a dark grim cloud of gloom interspersed with spontaneous weeping. As I’m usually quite balanced and don’t have any significant mental or emotional issues, I soon realised that these moods were related to my research. It impacted me in unexpected ways, for example, when uncontrollable sobbing suddenly overcame me. Or waking up from a nightmare with my heart beating wildly because I was being followed; I usually have nice dreams. Or not being able to fall a sleep because horrific images of concentration camp prisoners were stuck in my mind. I often had to distance myself from the topic to be able to carry on. I took a break; I let everything go, telling myself no one was forcing me to do this, and I can stop at any time.
Interestingly, the more I found out about the fate of my relatives (and millions of others), the more determination grew in me to draw my relatives out of history.
Any advice to others who are working on similar projects involving sensitive family histories?
Take care of yourself, and have a supportive network. Talk about what you’re going through. Know when to take a break and feel free to let everything go; don’t force yourself to research and write. Trauma is traumatic. Don’t expect close family to be delighted you’re doing the research. There are reasons why people don’t talk about certain things.
How has ‘The Unspeakable’ been received by those close to you, and what impact has it had on them?
There have been a range of reactions, from great interest to indifference. As mentioned, my cousin was significantly impacted and deeply involved in my research. Therefore, she could make better sense of her upbringing through what the research brought to light. I have two younger brothers; one was reasonably interested, and the other did not respond. My mother (born 1934) is fascinated now the book is out. My children (I have three), are busy with their little children, my grandchildren, and I understand that they are not open to the subject at present. But the book is there when they are ready for it.
Can you mention any support systems or resources that helped you while journeying into the past?
I’ve mentioned people who supported me but several institutions acted as both support systems and resources. The Arolsen Archives in Germany answered questions and researched documents for me which showed exactly what had happened. These archives developed from the Allies’ International Tracing Service after WWII. Employees were gentle and caring when I visited in the summer of 2022. Amazingly, I discovered by chance that my great uncle (my grandmother’s brother), had given the Archives of Contemporary History in Zurich 1000 pages documenting the fate of his family in France while they were on the run from the Nazis. This state archive quickly digitised everything within a week and made everything available when I asked. Official archives in Prague were also very supportive.
What do you hope the book’s impact might be on readers and future generations?
I hope that readers will be prompted to research their heritage, especially families where the Holocaust was hushed up. The Arolsen Archives have digitised cards documenting the fate of millions of victims, but most people don’t know that the data is available. Finding murdered relatives gives the victims their identity back and can contribute to clarifying one’s identity and possibly also addressing some passively inherited unconscious psychological ‘knots’. As antisemitism raises its ugly head again in the wake of the murdering and kidnapping Hamas attack on Israel on 7 October 2023, and ensuing inhuman war in Gaza, I hope readers will be motivated to actively engage in institutions and democratic political parties to counteract racism and antisemitism. Present and future generations need to engage in a variety of ways to learn to live together as one species to survive on Planet Earth. I believe countering climate change is more important than fighting territorial conflicts and ideological-religious wars.
Any other projects you're pursuing beyond this book?
I’m still working in my profession as a teacher of the Alexander Technique; that remains fulfilling. Above all, I’m concentrating on project grandmother. I want to be as wonderful a grandparent as my grandparents were to me. My grandchildren are Therese’s great-great-great-grandchildren.