Berlin’s sprawling Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe consists of over 2,000 gray stone rectangles without any sort of enclosure, signs, or plaques. On one side there is a row of restaurants and postcard shops known in the German press as “Holocaust Beach.” Finding the monument an ideal place for all sorts of activities, visitors not surprisingly begin uploading photographs of themselves engaged in sunbathing, picnicking, calisthenics, and stunts. The Israeli-born Berlin resident Shahak Shapiro created a website merging these photos with actual pictures from the Holocaust. Amy Newman Smith comments:

Much has been made of the striking images: a young woman in workout gear demonstrating her strength and flexibility is paired with twisted bodies piled up in a concentration-camp building, the doorframe replacing the stele she was balanced against, her feet in the air. A man kneeling, juggling bright pink balls, is transported from the memorial to a burial pit. . . .

In part because a visitor can enter the Berlin memorial from any side, there is nothing in the way of preparation or guidance as to what, if anything, it should mean. There is an information center (which, as it happens, [the monument’s architect] Peter Eisenman strenuously resisted), but it is tucked underground, and few visitors ever make it there. . . . Care has been taken, however, to post signs warning of pickpockets.

Time is, of course, picking memory’s pocket, pilfering public memories of the Shoah, even among the Germans, even among the Jews. Memorials remain, unmoved and unchanged by this inevitable erosion of memory. Think, for instance, of the emotional impact of the Lincoln Memorial upon most of its present-day visitors. How many truly feel the rupture of that conflict, fought over the fates of four million slaves and leaving more than 620,000 dead?

Shapira’s close attention to our present-day language and behavior offers one possible way forward: Holocaust Beach and [selfie-taking, video-game playing] museum visitors themselves become part of the exhibit. Part of the brilliance of Shapira’s ephemeral digital creation is that it allows us the space to think about thoughtlessness.

Two extraordinary events demonstrate something important about Israel’s most fervent adversaries. One was a speech given at something called The People’s Forum (funded generously by Goldman Sachs), which stated, “When the state of Israel is finally destroyed and erased from history, that will be the single most important blow we can give to destroying capitalism and imperialism.”

The suggestion that this tiny state is the linchpin of a global, centuries-old phenomenon like capitalism goes well beyond anything resembling rational criticism. Even if Israel were guilty of genocide, apartheid, and oppression—which of course it is not—it would not follow that its destruction would help end capitalism or imperialism.

The other was an anti-Israel protest that took place in front of New York City’s Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, deemed “complicit” in Israel’s evils. At organizers’ urging, participants shouted their slogans at kids in the cancer ward, who were watching from the windows. Given Hamas’s indifference toward the lives of Gazan children, such callousness toward non-Palestinian children from Hamas’s Western allies shouldn’t be surprising. The protest—like the abovementioned speech—deliberately conveyed the message that Israel is the ultimate evil and its destruction the ultimate good, cancer patients be damned.

The fact that Israel’s adversaries are almost comically perverse does not mean that they can be dismissed. If its allies fail to understand the obsessive and irrational hatred that it faces, they cannot effectively help it defend itself.