Abstract

Dear Fredy—a feature-length documentary directed by Rubi Gat—tells the remarkable story of Fredy Hirsch, a German Jew and openly gay man in Nazi Germany. Fredy was born in 1916, and he excelled in sports and gymnastics from a young age. His training as a gymnast, and later as a sports instructor, socialized him to German order and organization, thus making him into a true disciplinarian. Shortly after the Nuremberg Laws were passed in 1935, Fredy fled to the Czech Republic. There, he joined Maccabi, a Jewish international sports association, as a sports instructor and he operated a local youth club. From that point on, Fredy took on himself varies roles as volunteer organizer, thus becoming a key figure in the Jewish community.
Fredy was troubled by his sexuality for a long period. Once he came to terms with being gay, however, he felt less compelled to hide it. Being openly gay was unheard of during that period; yet, Gat documents that Fredy was much loved, admired, and respected by the community. When the calls for deportations to Ghetto Terezin began in 1940, Fredy headed an aid committee that helped people vacating their homes and moving to the Ghetto. After arriving at the Ghetto, he was appointed head of the Youth Department and was responsible for the well-being of over 4,000 children and youth. Later, in 1943, Fredy was deported to Auschwitz where he was allowed to operate a “day care facility” for more than 500 children and babies. Freddy mysteriously died a few months later, on the eve of a revolt that never materialized.
The documentary tells Fredy’s story by piecing together a wide range of sources, media, and materials including interviews with his family, colleagues, and pupils; original black and white footage from the 1930s to the 1940s; original black and white photographs; short animations and motion comics; and documents (e.g., letters and articles his wrote). While telling Fredy’s story, this documentary also sheds a unique light on European Jewish men’s masculinities before and during the Holocaust.
Unlike the stereotypes of the Jewish man in that period—considered weak, frail, intellectual, and feminine—Fredy was physically strong, athletic, and reserved. Fredy conformed to dominant Western bourgeois ideals of masculinity, emphasizing power, honor, duty, courage, and respectability. From this ideal, “real men” were expected to be healthy, contained, disciplined, fit, and strong. Their bodies became the medium through which they showcased their gendered physical and mental strength. As Fredy himself wrote in a Jewish community newspaper:
“Our body is weakened by the development of technology, if you think your body should be fit and better looking, join us. When a young Jew declares ‘I want to live for my people’…. He should know that declarations alone are worthless. He must undergo training, be a worker in Eretz Israel [the land of Israel–RTC], be a true Jew.”
Despite his sexuality, and even his religion, Frey enjoyed a unique position within the gendered social hierarchy before and during the Holocaust. Fredy had an overtly “German style”; he was very persistent, obedient, and reserved. Moreover, his Youth Department was well organized, and he kept detailed and precise records. This highly impressed the Nazis, and they treated him differently, as if he were one of them. Through his interactions with the Nazis, he negotiated for permissions to execute his plans in both Terezin and Auschwitz, and was able to secure provisions needed for the children in his care and the community. As for his position within the Jewish community, people were able to either ignore or accept his sexuality because they appreciated his unique attributes and special relations he had with the Nazis. Indeed, it seems that in Auschwitz, out of all places, Fredy was not exposed to homophobia: he had a lover, was open about his sexuality, and people admired him for all the good he was been doing.
There is little academic and non-academic work and other resources on Jewish masculinities during the interwar period and the Holocaust, thus making this documentary an important and unique resource for scholars, instructors, and students in the fields of men’s studies, gender and sexualities, and history.
