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SIMONE THE JOURNEY OF THE CENTURY

We're now parents, grandparents,

even great-grandparents.

Most of us are gone now.

The end will soon come

for this doomed generation.

Mummy, watch!

The time will come

when those who questioned us will vanish too.

Then, only books will hold our memories.

Information will not be lacking,

but the unique,

irreplaceable,

overwhelming contact

with the one who says,

"I was there

and it happened."

Milou, Jean, Denise... Come in now.

Your eyes, Simone.

That's why I put the dictionary away.

Simone, bedtime.

Children, go to bed!

No!

I want to read some more.

Read in bed. Ten minutes.

All right?

- You! - No, it's always me.

I'll join Milou.

Simone...

Wait! It's not fair!

You let Simone do as she wants.

She commands everyone.

She'll end up becoming unbearable.

I grew up in a happy family.

We lived in Nice, but spent summers in La Ciotat,

in a house my father had built by the sea.

Like all assimilated Jewish families,

my father's was very patriotic.

Secularism was our common good.

When fate confused things,

my father still had faith

in the French Republic.

He thought it would never abandon us.

We must resist.

If the advisers are in command, fine.

Let them decide alone.

How the maternal role is viewed is fundamental.

If it's seen as little more than planting cabbages,

then family policy makes no sense.

True, but we won't have the Church or the medical association with us.

We risk presenting the bill

as a minority.

We have 200 votes on the Left.

We need 90 members of our majority.

Antoine is going to try

to persuade Claudius-Petit.

We need Catholics like him.

I know.

Right. The debate will be televised.

Live.

- Let's do your speech. - I've done it.

Really? We were doing it together.

Draw the curtain, Colette.

Yes, Madam Minister.

I speak to this assembly today

as Minister of Health,

a woman, unelected,

to propose to this parliament

a full overhaul of the law on abortion.

I do so with great humility,

yet also with the intense conviction

that I'll defend a bill

designed to put an end

to a situation of disorder

and injustice.

The issue is abortion, a crime in France since 1920.

Mrs. Veil, how will you defend this bill?

The statements made after the Neuwirth bill in the Senate

were harsh.

Women were called whores.

Abortion will bother men less than contraception.

Contraception frees women.

For men, a woman deciding to have a child or not

is unbearable.

If we legalize abortion now,

it'll be homosexual marriage next.

It'll drive the weak-willed to prostitution.

Plain and simple!

We're focused.

She's resolute, Prime Minister.

You know my view of women's issues on the national stage,

but the President and I back Mrs. Veil. She has our support.

We have to persuade our own side.

We can't have only the Left voting for our bill.

We must speak to each deputy.

I wish to share my conviction as a woman.

Forgive me for doing so in this largely male assembly.

No woman opts gladly for an abortion.

Listen to women. It is always a tragedy.

And it always will be.

Among those opposing a change to a repressive law,

how many

care about helping women in their distress?

How many,

casting aside their moral views,

show young single mothers the understanding

and support

that they so needed?

For those women,

we wish to put an end to the illegal abortions

that they are forced to have,

risking sterility

or even graver wounds.

We can no longer ignore the three thousand abortions

that mutilate French women each year.

When doctors in their offices

break the law and say so publicly...

When, for that purpose,

trips abroad are organized by charter flight...

Then,

I say we have a situation of disorder and anarchy

that cannot continue.

However, it is true that no one can feel great satisfaction

in defending such a bill.

No one has ever denied,

least of all the Minister of Health,

that abortion is a failure

when it is not a tragedy.

The deputy

Jean Desanlis.

Must we,

after welcoming immigrant workers,

accept family immigrants

because the French destroy

their own offspring

and undermine their race?

The deputy Jean Foyer.

You prefer helping

women who eliminate their children

to those who keep them!

The deputy René Feit.

After abortion,

why not rule against society's burdens

and outcasts

to impose the worst form of Nazi racism?

The deputy Hélène Missoffe.

Turning a blind eye and ignoring the problem

is both cowardly and stupid.

Albert Liogiers.

Dear colleagues, we have all seen public demonstrations

during which women, or rather viragos...

Stupid!

Not women, as they act like men...

You insult women!

These women offer the sorry spectacle of their own abortions!

Pornography!

How dare you?

We need duty and honour!

Intolerable!

Vice must be countered with virtue!

Your virtue?

For Satan, contraception and abortion

are merely two chapters in the great book

of sexuality!

The deputy Bolo.

You're establishing a right

to legal euthanasia!

You speak of euthanasia to Mrs. Veil?

Do you know her past?

If this bill is passed,

it will leave twice as many dead as the bomb in Hiroshima!

Anti-Republican!

Listen to the heartbeat of a child

recorded 49 days after its conception.

Mr. Hamel, in this chamber

you may only use your own voice.

Not a voice, a heart, sir!

Imagine we find one of the Nazi doctors

who practiced

human vivisection.

Is what he did any different

from what will be done in French hospitals and clinics?

Some have stated

that a human embryo is an aggressor.

Will you allow such aggressors to be burned in crematory ovens?

"Madam Minister,

you'll kill our children, destroy France,

its values and its youth

to content a handful of rabid feminists,

most of them homosexual.

Madam, why are you so ignoble?"

Eat, Simone.

Stop reading and prepare for tomorrow,

please.

Claudius-Petit understands the situation

and the health issues, he told me.

You'll succeed.

Why do they attack me?

They hate what you represent.

The deputy Montagne.

No one...

Mum!

can assume the right to take an innocent life.

To do so, a state must be totalitarian like the Third Reich!

In that case, the Nazis can only be accused

of being precursors in this field!

The ignoble attacks against you in recent days

oblige me to speak out to state my indignation.

Bitch!

The French Resistance defends you

against these Hitlerian attacks!

The vote estimate.

It's unfavourable.

We'll see.

We're going to lose.

I now call the last speaker

in the debate, the deputy Claudius-Petit.

- He could tip it either way. - I know.

In conclusion,

because I have not abandoned

my religious convictions,

and to respect my own standards,

I side with those who suffer most,

those condemned most,

those scorned most.

I side with them

because a distraught woman,

humiliated and at fault,

reflects the face of He who is life.

What?

Because of that

and Him,

I shall share the burden.

And I shall fight what leads to abortion!

But I'll back this bill.

Ladies and gentlemen,

at this late hour...

This morning, November 29th, 1974, at 3:40 AM,

the Assembly

voted 284 to 189,

out of 479 votes cast,

to pass the bill legalizing termination of pregnancy.

Turn it off, please.

Their macho vulgarity was pitiful.

They sneered at me for being a woman.

Why smile?

You're going down in history.

No, I'm going home.

Bravo, Mrs. Veil!

Thank you!

More kisses.

My love...

Stay with me?

Daddy works and needs to eat.

Can Milou read to me?

- Don't want to. - Me neither.

Can we see a movie tomorrow?

- The one with Fernandel. - We'll see.

Jean's asleep.

A song then.

You know what Daddy thinks of songs.

Please. The rose song.

It's Sunday today

Here, darling mother

Here are some white roses

You love them so much

When I grow up

I'll buy from the florist

All his white roses

For you, darling mother...

There.

Sweet dreams.

Good night.

You act like such a princess.

Waiting for Prince Charming.

I'm not a princess and I never want a Prince Charming!

Stop sleeping on the floor, Miss Jacob.

It's the only spot I feel comfortable.

We're not there anymore.

We came back.

You're in Paris, at mother's sister's.

You study political science and tomorrow you go...

It was my first holiday since La Ciotat with my parents.

Your skiing pals will laugh if you sleep on the floor.

No one will know.

No one will know until I let them know.

I was 19 and trying to live again.

I stayed away from the other students.

I was the only girl

and feared remarks about my recent past.

Antoine Veil was on the same course,

but we didn't really meet until that weekend in the Alps.

A mutual friend invited us skiing.

I couldn't ski and I felt ashamed.

I'm hopeless.

Wait. Give me your hand.

Thank you, Antoine.

I'm ashamed.

Not with those eyes.

It's even worse now.

Why? You're ashamed of compliments?

Follow me?

Hello, young lady. André, Antoine's father.

Simone?

Yes. Hello, sir.

Make yourself at home.

- Where's Antoine? - Putting the skis away.

Come and eat, everyone.

How was the Sondernach to Nancy road?

Wonderful.

Magnificent. 150 kms of pure joy.

How was the snow, Simone?

It was perfect.

She's an exceptional skier.

How is Sciences Po, as they call it now?

Actually, quite good for now.

The workload is huge.

I should hope so.

France will be rebuilt with you.

- And thanks to you. - Count on us.

With secularity and respect for all.

Why smile?

Let the girl smile if she wants.

Maybe "secularity" made her smile.

Sorry, did I offend your beliefs?

In 1946, a Jewish family like ours

talking of patriotic duty may be surprising.

My parents always used that word.

My father mostly.

- "Secularity" - You're in good company.

For Mother, it was "justice".

I'll be a lawyer.

A lawyer?

Surprising for a young woman.

I hate injustice more than anything.

It's the mother of all misfortune.

Your parents agree?

Mylène, don't...

Never mind.

We'll talk later.

Our home is yours, miss.

Simone? Are you ok?

I can't.

It's ok, try to breathe.

Just breathe.

I can't sleep in a bed since I got back.

Hold on.

There.

A bed fit for a princess.

Jean, give it back!

Jean!

Hello, Jean.

What are you doing?

I'm writing.

- A letter? - No. I'm writing...

a draft.

A draft of my life.

I'll work a bit more, then we'll buy you a dress.

Ok.

Tell Jean I'm going to stay here.

See you later, Grannie.

The war had just ended.

A few of those who collaborated with the Germans had been tried,

but the French and their government wanted to forget.

At Laval's trial, like Pétain's,

there was no mention of the camps...

No one understands.

No.

We bother them, Milou.

Maybe after Reconstruction, people will listen to us.

Your son's beautiful.

And you're pregnant again.

You move fast.

Remember when Paul fell in love in Bobrek?

- With Bluma? - Yes, she was pretty.

Poor boy, in love in a concentration camp.

He made a striped fake collar

to impress her.

Impress her with a fake collar!

- She loved him too. - Yes.

Love kept him going.

He was 19 in Bobrek.

He needed to dream.

I'm glad Paul came back.

Seen Marceline?

No.

Not yet.

What a beautiful baby.

He looks like...

The survivors and witnesses

were now condemned to silence.

"Live, but say nothing,"

the outside world seemed to say.

Stop talking about it to my sister or Milou.

It hurts you.

- I need to talk. - You're upset.

I need to get over...

You're pregnant. With our second child.

Can life be better?

No.

But being ignored is like being there.

- Locked in. - I hear you.

You don't. You're deaf!

Worse, you're ashamed.

You want all France to be deaf!

Simone!

Are you ok?

- Forgive me. - No.

Never apologize.

Not all the facts

can be learned.

The simplest are those one can best reason about.

The inductive method goes from the specific to the general.

End of lecture. Thank you.

Guess what.

- I don't know. - Try.

I hate riddles.

Boissieu wants me as Teitgen's attaché.

I'll work with the MRP.

That's amazing, Antoine.

Antoine, please...

I can't.

You can, don't worry.

Antoine...

- How are you? - Fine.

They were all in the Resistance.

They'll wonder why I'm here.

Not at all.

- I can't. - You can.

- My dear friends. - Professor.

Follow me.

I'm delighted to see you both outside of school.

Come and meet Pierre-Henri Teitgen.

I can't.

You must get used to it.

I'm terrified.

Let me go home.

Pierre-Henri Teitgen.

Antoine Veil. My wife, Simone.

Ma'am.

Boissieu speaks highly of you.

In the 4th Republic,

worth does not depend on age.

You'll have a bright future with the MRP Christian Democrats.

I'm glad you're joining my parliamentary team.

You must support your young husband.

The political world demands a great deal of wifely support.

Why is he always working?

Dad works for us all.

Why him? Why is he the one who works?

Men always like to be in charge.

Suzanne, my sister, was the first female doctor.

I studied too when I was young.

After my baccalaureate,

I studied chemistry.

- Chemistry? - Yes.

I stopped to respect convention.

You too,

you'll be independent and study.

Women must be independent and work.

Like Louise Weiss.

Who's Louise Weiss?

She fights for women's rights.

She refused a ministerial post

saying, "I fought to be elected,

not to be nominated."

Milou?

Well?

I passed!

That's wonderful!

Does Antoine know?

Not yet. Where's Jean?

Sleeping just there.

I'm so proud of you!

Mother would be too.

Are you ok?

Sit down.

Tell Denise, she'll be over the moon.

You're a Sciences Po graduate!

Don't cry, Simone dear.

It's so unfair, Milou.

Mum's with us.

You've come so far.

People will end up listening.

As prefect,

I'm happy to welcome you today, Mrs. Veil,

to lay the foundation stone

of this new children's hospital

in this town

that we all love.

After you.

Quite a technique...

I used to do this.

In the camps.

I know how.

It was my job there.

Stop, it's too bright.

Can you...

dim the light a little?

There's no image without light.

It's not my face that matters, but my words.

The French want to hear you and see you too.

And know you after hinting at your work in the camps.

Yes.

Excuse me.

Mr. Jeannesson knows his job.

And I know my feelings.

And they're complex.

You chose to speak.

I've always spoken,

but I've never

exposed myself like this.

You've answered many questions,

but we must complete this interview.

Just a second.

Ready when you are.

We left late one afternoon

from the small camp we were in

located near Auschwitz.

We walked for more than 24 hours,

stopping for just a few hours

in an abandoned brickworks.

It was

minus 20, minus 25°C

on what we called the Death March.

We were very few women.

There were several thousand men.

A few dozen women who all knew each other

from the small camp.

None of us fell by the way.

We all survived.

It's striking

to see that women resist

much better than men.

Surviving in the camps required a certain...

aggressiveness.

The gentler ones didn't last.

I think that,

in a way,

Mother and Milou were perhaps like that.

Maybe that's where I helped.

I was tougher.

But, for us, the time

that was the worst...

A little later, in 1952, I think,

a harsh ordeal awaited you,

another ordeal.

Yes.

I can't do this.

You want to go back?

I'm just following Antoine.

Surrendering like Mother did?

It's only temporary!

Germany's the killers' land!

After Father fought in the Great War and got murdered...

I don't understand!

Poher wants Antoine to help with German affairs.

Antoine feels it's ideal for the ENA exam.

He can't refuse.

And I support him.

What about you?

I'm going with him.

And me?

Milou, hearing German isn't as upsetting as you thought.

I'm used to the little I hear.

Everyone speaks American here.

Everything is American too.

I see how badly the Germans lost the war.

But I want to think of the future for my family.

I take our happy memories to bed.

Remember scout camp when I refused my totem?

I refuse

to be Lively Hare, it's my right.

We don't change names.

Why?

It's the rule. Obey.

You're Mirka. I'll be Queen of Sheba.

Simone, how could I forget?

As leader, I wanted you to keep your name.

Simone!

Simone, come back!

I remember everything, Simone.

But I miss you more than anything.

Milou,

our life in Germany is getting organized.

Our conversations with friends often concern France's future.

Antoine is doing well in German Affairs

and I help write his reports.

He's working on the ENA exam too.

For now,

I've put my studies on hold but, in time,

I'll continue, don't worry.

And you, Simone,

what do you think?

I'm wary of the moralist Right and the sectarian Left.

Tell me more about the young man you've met, Milou.

What is he like?

Is he kind?

Does he deserve you?

Pierre is adorable.

He's in love with me.

But I can't talk about the past with him,

only with you.

Simone, sometimes our return feels like a failure to me.

We're alive, but I spend my nights with the dead.

In my dreams,

I wait for Mum, Jean and Dad at the Lutetia.

I look for them near the buses around me.

No one hears me.

In the France you're rebuilding, we're shameful victims,

racial deportees as they say,

not worthy Resistance fighters like Denise or others.

Milou,

my rage is there,

overwhelming, inside me.

It bursts out when the pressure is too great,

but I try to contain it.

Alexanderstrasse 7, please.

The French wish to see France as gloriously united,

resisting and anti-Nazi.

What a joke.

Even the Resistance showed no pity for those "taken without fighting".

What are we, Simone?

What are we?

We're a thorn in the collective memory.

They want to silence us, for our words are real.

Our words and our dead reject politics

and hypocrisy.

I loathe their hypocrisy and suspicion.

An old lady asked me, as I was so pretty,

if I slept with SS men to survive.

Their baseness rivals their guilt and ignorance.

Let them talk. Disregard the lies.

Be harsh as I told you to be in Pitchipoi.

I'm trying to be, Simone.

We shall haunt them forever,

preventing the truth from being rewritten.

Your words do me good.

Your lucidity enlightens me.

You'll be a great lawyer.

I'm lucid and strong because I always have been,

haven't I, troop leader?

But you're right.

No one can know the strength we needed on coming back.

The men are washing the cars.

They couldn't find soap powder!

You darling.

Give me this beauty!

Go to Auntie Simone.

- Paule, can you do the boys' bath? - Yes, ma'am.

We feed Luc first?

Yes.

Hi there...

We need to talk.

- I have to tell you... - What?

Antoine's so focused on the ENA exam...

I told him I'm resuming my studies

to be a lawyer.

Karl Böhm.

A great conductor, right?

True, but I find Fritz Busch more admirable.

In terms of personal commitment, but on a purely musical level...

Artists are political too.

Böhm embraced the Nazis. That's clear.

No politics tonight!

Milou is right. Listen.

This music is extraordinary.

Debussy. What a genius.

I prefer Mahler.

No, Pierre!

Mahler speaks of his own feelings and emotions.

He wrote a Jew's love story.

But it's just one man's story.

- Isn't his Adagietto moving? - It is.

Debussy moves me as, after a century of German romanticism,

he composed Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune

and reinvented it all, both music

and the world.

It unfolds on a human scale

and on the scale of nature,

the stars, the cosmos, the universe...

That's exactly what we must do now.

Reinvent the world.

So Debussy is a political artist.

He's beyond that.

- No politics! - Or cars, Antoine.

Never! You know me, Milou.

I feel like I'm living again.

I've missed you.

To think you go back to Paris tomorrow.

We'll write to each other.

You've been expatriates three years.

I never thought I'd like Germany.

Life is full of surprises.

This song...

Milou! It's our song!

Madam, if you please.

You darling!

You darling, we're coming.

We're coming. Mind your hands.

Children!

A smile, Pierre?

Watch the birdie.

One, two, three...

Perfect.

Thank you, Simone dear.

Shall we take a break?

No.

Yes.

Yes.

What?

We're off to France. See to the children!

Milou, Jean, Denise, come inside now!

Come on, Milou!

Simone!

Out of the way!

Yeah!

Simone...

We can't tell you over the phone. Come urgently.

There's no time to lose.

The car left the road.

Her husband is safe,

but we couldn't save your sister and her baby.

Milou!

Where's Milou? Where's my sister?

Be strong.

Where is she? Where's the baby?

Milou!

Where's my sister?

Please!

Cut.

Thank you, ma'am.

You did very well.

- I'm not sure. - No, it was very good.

Some wine, Simone?

A drop of white.

I see the Nice prefect later.

He might put a plaque

in Jean's school

in memory of the 11 Jewish students shipped to the camps.

I'm not sure

the Imperial Park High School did all it could

to save our brother.

Mum and Dad recently unveiled

the first plaque listing

the 2,693 Righteous of France.

We tried to persuade Chirac to do a tribute.

The crime's accounts are simpler than those of devotion.

So you won't come?

You're worrying your sister. She'll come.

She chairs the Shoah Foundation and...

Sorry, Denise, I'm feeling out of sorts.

She's writing her memoirs.

Really?

What'll you have put on your Académie sword?

I hope my memory lasts.

I prefer to remember others

than my memories.

I'll take the bar exam.

Out of the question.

I want to be a lawyer.

I hate lawyers.

- With your career... - I'm at the ENA.

I want to work!

It's not reasonable.

I won't depend on anyone.

And the children? You're irresponsible!

Leave the children out of it!

I supported you all over Germany,

Morocco and France!

Did I study to be a housewife

in a fancy evening gown?

A lawyer's fancy robes don't bother you?

It's no job for a respectable woman.

I want to work, understand?

Sorry, forgive us.

You met me at Sciences Po, not cooking!

Children change nothing. Women work if they want.

They're not lawyers.

Magistrate?

Yes.

Women have the right to be since 1946.

But you're married. With three young children.

- And your husband... - My husband isn't me.

If you need to lead a condemned man

to the scaffold...

How would you do it?

If my jurisdiction sentenced him,

I'd do it.

You're a confident young woman.

- Can I get by? - No!

- Enough of her convictions. - Calm down.

I respect French laws!

We answer the census!

Get out of my way!

André, listen to her!

Some girl

won't tell me what do to!

How can she be so arrogant?

The census is a trap!

They'll list us as Jews and we won't be able to do a thing.

- He doesn't realize! - Quiet!

I want to be a magistrate.

It's two years of training.

If you manage it.

Madam Minister, you're early

and we're still setting up.

Your dressing room is here.

Madam Minister.

Hello.

We shall film here.

- Outside this room. - Fine.

So how is it going to happen?

I'll explain. They want to start the evening news

with a shot of this door.

You'll supposedly be with an AIDS patient.

At our signal, you come out

to give your speech live.

Then we do the headlines and...

I don't understand.

There won't be a patient inside?

No.

You're joking.

The viewers will think there's a patient.

It's symbolic.

Symbolic, sir?

I don't pretend,

I need the truth.

I want to talk to a real patient

20 minutes before I speak.

Alone with him. Is that clear?

Neither of us will lie.

I won't emerge from an empty room.

But for your comfort...

Damn my comfort.

I prefer discomfort to lies.

- Is that clear? - We'll work it out.

After you.

We have 20 minutes.

Mr. Greacen, can you find an AIDS patient to talk to the Health Minister?

This government ignores the massacre.

Few will want to speak to her.

It's an ideal opportunity.

Give me a minute.

Put him in here.

David, any problem and we'll stop.

Madam Minister.

This is David.

Hello, David.

Hello.

We'll knock at 8 sharp and you can come out...

I know. You can leave us.

Take a chair.

10, 9, 8,

7, 6, 5,

4...

Where is she?

Keep filming.

Go and see.

No cameras.

No cameras!

Send them away.

Is today's AIDS summit at UNESCO

a failure?

The French Health Minister, Mrs. Simone Veil,

fought hard for a year for this international summit,

but only 13 government leaders are to Paris in person.

I know what this century has inflicted on people.

The response to AIDS must be a humanist one.

That young man was so thin...

So weak...

AIDS calls all our certainties into question.

Am I any use?

Some people react like in the Middle Ages.

The insults and humiliation

lead the sick and charities

to turn to reason and generosity.

The patients' basic rights had to come under threat

before anyone considered their protection.

I don't like to let women in this wing,

or even in my prison.

I'm not a woman, Warden.

I'm a magistrate with the penitentiary board.

This is the hot room.

It's the only room with heating.

The central hole is for excrement.

How does it leave the building?

A horse and cart collect waste once a week. Why?

The state cut back

on guards as we had fewer prisoners.

But now we're overrun by Algerian terrorists,

what do we do?

France now has 6,400 prison guards,

9,000 seven years ago.

- Expect strikes. - Open it.

I'm sorry.

Open this door.

When did they last see a doctor?

How many cases of tuberculosis this year?

You seem to care more about convicts than our guards, ma'am.

Your husband's contacts

may have brought you here,

but it's no job for a woman!

I get the message.

It was a mistake to let women vote or become magistrates.

The prison service is for men,

with women as receptionists or typists.

Not me, apparently.

Don't be insolent!

Three wardens have complained in less than ten days.

Where will this lead us?

Your job...

My vocation, Mr. Perdriau.

It's not a job,

it's a vocation.

All prisoners need health checks.

Is that all?

It's a matter of dignity.

Of democracy.

Of humanity, if you prefer.

I know the word has meaning for you.

Call this number.

And learn self-control.

Dr Fully, the prison service

needs a revolution in conditions with us on board.

Antoine, it's nearly ready.

Sorry, Dr Fully.

Yes, I understand. Sorry.

Jean!

I understand.

But we need x-ray vans.

What?

That pain's here.

She has a van in the yard on ministerial orders.

I'm the warden here.

May I see the ministerial order?

Dr Fully, Prison Service Inspector.

You're Mrs. Veil?

Yes.

Your reputation is appalling.

Less than tuberculosis, I hope.

You make us look like foul mediaeval jailers!

I'm doing my job.

And I mine.

Detention isn't elimination.

Incarceration doesn't entail

lack of care, humiliation and shackles.

We're just detecting cases of TB,

like in schools.

They're not schoolboys!

None of my prisoners will be X-rayed by you.

Ask the French...

Ask the Minister, not the French.

And they're not your prisoners.

If you stand firm and defy not me but the French state

and the Justice Minister,

we can indeed leave.

All the reports back us up.

Prisons need medical and psychological units,

for the youngest or those in custody.

That's a new one.

Prison while awaiting trial is a trauma.

Counselling should be provided.

We help those presumed innocent until trial.

Justice is conservative and upholds social values.

Mrs. Veil has a suggestion.

Countless prisoners would like to have books.

Are you serious?

You want libraries in prisons?

With the terrorist attacks by the FLN, do the French

care about prisoners reading?

Reading helps reintegration.

That's prison's goal.

What's the status of prison schools for minors?

You've been nominated. You're in charge of implementing it.

I forgot to say.

Thank you, sir.

Don't thank me.

You know what I thought of you.

But your tenacity has persuaded me.

Are you ready to order?

Certainly. Let's eat...

Thank you.

There's another subject:

women's prisons.

What lesson is learned

from this punishment?

Let's say

it treats her impulses,

prevents a theft.

Everything forbidden here.

What did she do?

She was dealing in lipstick

and displayed homosexual tendencies.

I don't care about that.

Why deny her makeup, books, warmth?

She killed her son and her husband.

Only her dignity counts here. The rest isn't our concern.

Still awake?

Where were you?

At work.

Jean tore a page of my Tintin book.

Never mind.

We'll all go out on Sunday.

Go to sleep now.

Not too tired?

I still have work.

Chin up, I'll soon finish.

Today, General de Gaulle raised

a route other than military victory

in relation to Algerian self-determination.

He suggested three solutions:

secession,

gallicization or association.

A stormy reaction from French Algeria is to be feared.

I was arrested on Friday, March 8th, at 11 PM,

with my husband and my brother.

They took us to the Villa Susini.

They put a hood on me while slapping me.

Then they took me to the torture room.

They stripped me naked.

Then they used electricity.

On my lower belly...

On my breasts...

I screamed.

They said,

"We'll finish her off this way."

They turned it up higher.

Then...

they untied my ankles.

They spread my legs

and applied electricity to my whole body,

even more intense.

After the soldiers hit one side, they turned me to the other.

I'm in the Barberousse Prison in Algiers.

I don't know where my husband is.

My name is Zahia Hamdad,

married name Orif.

I'm in Algiers.

The situation is dramatic.

Mr. Perdriau,

prevent soldiers and the French Far Right

from executing Algerian prisoners in the jails.

Maison Carré, Barberousse, Berrouaghia...

All prisons and camps rate as unhygienic

under French and international law.

I didn't think such conditions were possible.

The prisoners are held

in damp, rat-infested cellars.

They only get out for so-called interrogations.

I'm told you have young minors here.

Only killers and enemies of France.

Age has nothing to do with it.

What's your game?

Why such unhealthy compassion?

I only report on what I see.

All these dogs deserve is a mass grave.

She should be in the infirmary.

She should be dead.

Shut up!

She lost her legs to a bomb destined for the El-Fouad gendarmerie.

How old are you?

16.

Your report is a bombshell.

- How many at threat? - All of them.

From lack of care or hygiene.

300 men and women

will be liquidated by the army unless we save them.

Michelet saved lives in Dachau. He resisted.

His moral standards must stop France turning ignoble again.

I'll speak to him.

He knows your work.

These "terrorists" cannot turn into political prisoners.

The Algerian French blindness

could harm future relations.

Independence is inevitable.

Torture is a disgrace

for our department.

The women...

They're the most at risk.

My mission was approved.

They gave me radios, batteries, money,

uniforms, cyanide.

- June 18th, 1944? - Yes.

On the 19th, I was arrested just outside Lyon.

They handed me to the Lyon Gestapo.

I was a terrorist for the Germans.

They tortured me.

The bathtub ordeal all night, as for all resistants.

I didn't tell them a thing.

Fear makes you snap, not pain.

Denise, I'm your sister, you never told me.

I related it in '47, in a Resistance journal.

You know...

I did a search to find a trace of Dad and Jean.

I found nothing.

I don't know if they were transferred later,

nor where.

Keep at it.

And resist.

Minister Edmond Michelet and Magistrate Simone Veil

ordered the transfer, without military approval,

of Algerian women prisoners risking death in Algiers' jails.

But is this a sanitary operation

as part of prison reform

or a highly political one?

You're absent. All you talk about is prison.

We're off to Spain

and you plan a two-hour stop in Nîmes

to see a "protégée"?

One hour.

Mum...

Is Djamila Boupacha a terrorist?

No, an FLN activist.

Doesn't your family count?

Professional fulfilment is fine, but this an obsession!

You're in jail, Simone!

And us with you.

It's true. We never see you.

Seven years travelling France.

You've overhauled the prison service.

You fought and obtained funds, you've been exceptional!

The authorities know it.

But what about us?

We're proud of you, Mum.

I miss you too.

Maybe it's time to change.

Leave the prison service to come home.

Am I any use?

More than ever, Simone.

The French love and trust you.

For how long?

Stop worrying, Simone.

Mitterrand and Balladur aren't helping things.

I feel...

I feel powerless to get funds.

The AIDS epidemic...

Are they even aware of it?

The Health Ministry is marginalized.

Ten years ago, we founded the Vauban Club

for politicians of all sides, in this apartment.

The Left-Right split is outdated.

It's a matter of time. Be patient.

But I'm not patient.

Never in politics.

I'm not gifted with your vision or distance.

You have something else, Simone.

You're the one who writes the interesting books.

I've always admired them.

Is it compliment time?

I always said

La Mémoire Longue overwhelmed me.

It's true. You have such a clear view of France.

Stop laughing.

You should be the minister.

I'd no longer be Mr. Simone Veil.

You give me strength.

This centre's nice.

It's better than being outside like dogs.

The Health Minister, Mrs. Veil, wished to meet patients

who benefit from the new care plan.

It's a revolution not to count

solely on weaning addicts off drugs,

but also to avoid infection

and ease access to care.

How about you, Jonas? Where were you before?

On the street since I was 16.

I began dope doing lines on the sly.

Then I got high in the metro.

But nothing beats shooting up.

Injecting it, like.

And you?

Me?

I was at my mother's.

She hated seeing me like that.

She threw me out.

Your centres are good

for us.

It's true.

We get nasty looks outside.

You know, people...

are scared of others' suffering.

It's funny.

Sometimes, we feel like dying.

I know.

But you must overcome those moments.

You really must.

It's never easy but, you'll see, you grow stronger

each time.

What about you?

I never saw a minister before.

Or anyone famous.

Never mind who I am.

We're sitting here together. We're comfortable,

out of the rain...

What about you?

I've been using heroin every day for 15 years.

I sold myself for sex.

I come to see Dr Hefez and he helps.

That's good.

Why do you have

coffins tattooed on your arm?

They're my kids' coffins.

They died of AIDS at birth.

But you'll survive.

You'll survive. It's all you can do.

No one's destined for grief.

Keep faith in love.

I'm not saying you must be invulnerable.

We never are. You know that.

But...

the frontier between life and death is...

minute.

That's shown by destruction

and resurrection.

You've met the world's presidents,

queens and even the Pope.

Can you change the world or is that screwed too?

Boys, I'm talking to Marceline!

Did you sing The Internationale in '41?

Claude, close the window.

What's this scoop?

You sang The Internationale under Pétain?

- Who told you that? - Dad.

I'd like to hear about it too.

Go on, tell us.

It was in the midst of collaborationist propaganda.

School was brainwashing us

about Darlan's visit.

In reaction, we began singing The Internationale

with Denise and our cousins on the terrace.

A Communist song? And your husband made fun of me!

We were reported to the police

by the neighbours.

- That's all? - Our parents were summoned.

The police opened an enquiry

that went on for days.

The judge threatened

to put us in care.

Quite a scandal.

How did it end?

Mrs. Jacob grounded her.

No, I got...

six months, suspended.

What?

Pétain gave you six months at 15?

On the report, they wrote

my words

could have had a nefarious influence

on people's minds.

You started young, pissing people off!

The riot cops are here!

Now, comrades, come rally

Stop, it's embarrassing!

Pierre-François, stop that!

Let him sing.

Pierre-François!

Pierre-François!

Your mother's here!

I love it, Mum. The whole world's here.

Thank you.

Do you speak Hebrew?

Badly. I know a few words.

I'm learning. I'll soon be fluent.

You won't come home.

I will, but...

life is so perfect here.

I hate the family being scattered.

I'm safe here, Mum.

I'll learn Hebrew and make history.

He's right, Simone.

Move to Israel.

It's the only place for the world's Jews.

I'm French. My culture is French.

Look around you.

This youth, this country to build...

It's a beautiful place.

Do you believe in God?

I'm an agnostic.

Like my parents, well integrated in France.

You're Jewish.

Yes, but with no religious instruction. That's my heritage.

I heard you're a feminist.

No, well, yes... Out of necessity,

I am.

Pompidou has just named her

Secretary of the Magistrates' Board.

A first for a woman.

Mazel tov. Congratulations.

Sorry to say this, but...

Where else but in Israel can a woman lead the government?

She wants you to stay.

No, my fight is in Europe.

I'm more useful there.

It's a psalm.

"Splendour

and magnificence lie before Him,

Glory and majesty lie in His sanctuary."

For pity's sake,

water for the baby!

Where are we?

Please!

Tell me where we are.

- Where? - No idea. Let go.

Marceline!

Water for the baby!

Water!

Please, water for my baby!

Water for my baby!

Hold the children.

Water for my baby!

For pity's sake!

- What station? - I didn't see.

Pitchipoi.

In Drancy, they said we'd go there.

Pitchipoi doesn't exist.

It'll get colder. Huddle against me.

Put your scarf on.

Put it around your neck like this.

We must stay together. Nothing must part us.

I hope...

I hope Jean stayed in Drancy.

That it's not another trap.

We did well to tell him to stay.

He'll work for the OT. He'll be safe.

She's right, Mum. They need young workers. He's safe.

André...

Don't cry, Mum.

I want to see André.

Dad's hiding. He's smart.

If Denise is hidden too, that's three safe.

- We'll see them soon. - Yes, dear.

You used your real name?

Yes.

Are you crazy or what?

We hide and you use your name.

The examiner said nothing.

Out for a stroll?

Papers!

Your papers!

Come in, quick.

I came to see how Milou is.

They arrested Simone.

No!

Mathieu told me. He was there

when they took her.

My husband hid Milou in the cellar. Jean's due back.

Someone told them your papers are fake.

Where's Simone?

At the Excelsior.

Where's your husband?

He's hiding at Bolleti's.

Come in, quick.

Jean!

What's wrong, Mum?

They took Simone.

Come on, I'll hide you with Milou.

I have to go.

Calm down.

I remember the first question I was asked two months ago.

Some wondered

why I was standing in this European election

having never joined a party

and, until now,

never having stood for election.

Here's the answer I keep giving...

Filthy Jew!

I am fully committed to a united Europe

to learn from my past

and ensure France's future.

Jews to the ovens!

I've suffered too much myself

emotionally and physically,

to allow my children

and my grandchildren

to experience what I did

like so many others in this room!

Filthy Jew!

Ban abortion!

I support the European Union

because that Union

seems to me

to be the sole way to end those horrors!

A million French babies

died because of you!

The National Front. Leave.

I'm staying.

Those promoting European construction

have realized that peace

must be more than the shadow of war!

I'll say this and repeat it:

the EU means peace!

One more thing...

You don't scare me.

Not a bit!

I survived worse than you!

You're pathetic compared to the SS!

Come now.

After getting the abortion bill passed,

supporting the Lyon prostitutes,

fighting within the government

against the deportation of 500,000 immigrant workers,

after being considered by the UDF

as a possible Paris mayor,

who is this Mrs. Veil

acclaimed by the French since 1974

and who recently resigned as a minister

to devote herself

to the European elections?

People devote so much energy to getting elected,

they forget why they were ever elected.

That won't happen to me.

I'm not a politician and never will be.

I'll go to the office.

Thanks for lunch.

See you later.

We've drawn up

a new schedule.

Good.

Lots of interview requests after Le Pen's cronies' fracas.

Mr. Klarsfeld is here.

- Mr. Klarsfeld. - Madam Minister.

Thank you for coming. Delighted to meet you. Have a seat.

I'm impressed by your work as a historian.

Your book on the deportation of French Jews

is a fundamental historical survey.

Thank you, ma'am.

The only way to build a French memoir of the Holocaust

is to begin by listing the 76,000 sent to the camps.

Your family, mine...

It's a devastating task.

The way in which you...

gathered all those names,

those convoy numbers, those children...

those people who'd vanish from History...

Thanks to you,

they're here forever.

I've been looking...

all these years...

by every means possible, to find a trace.

Do you have any information about

my father and my brother?

As I said, I cannot answer all your questions.

But, indeed, your brother Jean was about

to join the OT volunteers.

After his arrest in Nice, following a round-up,

your father joined him at the Drancy camp.

Convoy 71, yours, had already left.

They were in Drancy a while.

So they...

they saw each other in Drancy?

I don't know. Probably.

They boarded the same train

on May 15th, 1944.

Convoy 73.

Shall I stop?

No, carry on.

Convoy 73 was made up of 878 men and adolescent boys.

They left the station in Bobigny in goods wagons

heading for Lithuania.

Lithuania?

Not Auschwitz?

No.

It was the only convoy of the 79

that left Drancy with that destination.

That's incredible.

All the time we were

in Auschwitz,

we thought

they were in the camp next to ours,

the men's camp nearby.

We tried to send messages for news.

To learn that...

That they...

Please, carry on.

They arrived at a small town called Kaunas in Lithuania.

The convoy was split into two. Some of the men stayed in Kaunas,

while the rest were sent to Reval,

in Estonia.

From that point on,

nothing is certain.

Not one of the 20 survivors of convoy 73

could name them on returning to France

in 1945.

No trace either at the Stutthof camp in Poland,

where some prisoners were sent from Reval.

And so...

they stayed in Kaunas?

That's possible.

But...

in that case...

Only two men escaped.

They identified the place.

The Germans had hidden it.

Some words were carved in the stone.

"900 French lie here."

It's possible that your brother and your father

were executed in the forest, next to Fort IX.

Executed on arrival.

You're crap at parking.

Don't be so rude.

Do you think she'll be here?

Where else?

Remember where it was?

The stalls keep changing.

Hello.

Hello, ma'am.

Mrs. Veil?

Thank you.

Thank you for your work for women.

Thank you.

Have a good day.

That's nice.

Everyone's looking at you.

Mrs. Veil,

bravo.

I work in a crèche. With the new status you gave us,

my life has changed. Thank you.

I'm glad.

Have a good day.

You're a real star.

I won't get that for my film on Mao's death!

Hosiery...

Ginette...

Simone?

What brings you here?

I needed some air.

I brought you chocolates.

Take over for me.

I won't be long.

What's your name?

Cherkasky, Ginette.

My brother, Gilbert.

And my father too.

I'm Marceline Rozenberg.

I'm with my father.

I heard we'll work hard.

Don't be afraid.

Three nights already.

Where are we going?

My legs are numb.

- Lean on me. - It's our turn to sit soon.

He's dead!

That man's dead!

The baby's warm clothes are in my suitcase!

Let go of my father! Dad!

Your age?

16.

Say you're 18.

Météoun!

Météoun!

I've lost my husband in the crush.

I want my husband!

We don't board the trucks.

How old?

43.

And you?

21.

And you?

18.

My daughter-in-law and grandsons...

Myriam!

We'll take the trucks.

Take the boys with you!

No!

They'll arrive first.

Stop complaining. Walk.

They're my sons.

My sons are in the truck.

My sons!

Put everything on the tables!

Your jewels, watches, earrings and handbags.

Everything. Keep nothing.

Everything on the tables!

Your jewels, earrings,

watches...

Put everything on the tables!

Jewels, watches.

Earrings.

Simone!

Blanche?

Why are you here?

I saw Simone outside.

It's Blanche, from Rue Cluvier.

My mother took the truck. I don't know where she is.

I'm glad to see you.

The filthy Krauts will rob us.

Hush, the guards are French.

I'll try to keep my thimble, in case.

And this too.

Leave it here.

Not for the Krauts.

It's Lanvin.

Some luxury.

Here, luxury.

Stop that.

They can't have it all.

Not so loud!

On the tables! Earrings,

watches, everything!

Is that all?

If you hide anything,

you leave as smoke!

We should have jumped off.

They'd have shot everyone.

We should have jumped

just outside Paris.

Maybe they'll move us again.

They'll make us work like dogs.

My father and brother must be elsewhere,

in a shed for men.

So where's my mother?

The guard says the smell

is that of burning bodies.

Don't listen to rumours.

What do you think, Simone?

This is the journey's end.

Shit...

The clippers are broken.

So use scissors.

Learn your number by heart!

Forget your name.

Answer the call by number.

I'm telling you,

learn your number by heart.

Is that clear?

Learn your number by heart.

You, dancer?

Pretty face. Singer, maybe?

Parisian actress?

Chair of the European Parliament.

I can't believe it.

Show the EU what you're made of!

We'll see when it happens.

She's so modest!

You never change.

She saved me with a dress.

It restored my humanity.

You kept me going.

Your gift saved my life, Simone.

Better than the rags we wore.

You'll win. It's our revenge.

Just to shut up Le Pen and his Nazis.

They're like a militia at the market.

Not just Le Pen, the misogynists too.

I cut this out for you.

Listen.

Hold on, listen.

"Simone Veil, European election candidate.

As her radio interview last Sunday showed,

she's an amateur in Europe's garden,

twirling her parasol,

hoping Eve will get an apple to bite."

- They know no limits. - You said it.

- Get rid of it. - All right.

Got a bin, sir?

Please welcome Mrs. Louise Weiss.

In France, I led

the struggle for gender equality

in an outdated climate

in which our opponents could successfully argue

that women's hands were made to be petted

and not to put voting slips in ballot boxes.

Universal suffrage has spoken.

Mrs. Veil has obtained

the absolute majority of votes expressed.

I congratulate Mrs. Veil on her election

and invite her to take the presidential chair.

When I was elected

in 1979 as President

of the first European parliament,

the cabinet was mostly made up of men.

When I suggested a commission for women's rights,

I encountered strong resistance.

But I obtained it.

Thank you for your work.

My generation was inspired by your writing and your stands.

Thank you.

The EU has allowed women to make great advances.

Every advance,

however small, is important.

My dear colleagues,

ladies and gentlemen,

I am honoured by your vote

to summon me to preside the European Parliament.

And so,

the emotion I feel

on taking this place

is so great that I cannot express it.

I've expressed our gratitude

that we must feel for Louise Weiss

for guiding our first steps so well.

Allow me to say a word or two

about the key role she has played in every struggle

for female emancipation.

The European Union represents hope

as a bastion of democracy and liberty.

We must be aware of the necessity to unite and support one another

and so resist any return to totalitarianism.

Where are you going?

To walk, my legs are numb.

Simone!

What do you think?

Nothing.

A rat just bit me!

Stop!

Stop!

She didn't do anything!

Don't touch her!

You shut your mouths here, ok!

Get back to your roosts!

Help her.

We must help her.

We'll never leave.

I'd like to speak to Mrs. Simone Veil.

Speaking.

Alain Généstar, editor of Paris Match. Is this a bad time?

No, go ahead.

Next January sees the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.

We'd like to do a report on the commemoration.

I'm listening.

Would you agree to go back with us?

Are you sure?

I'm sure.

I want to go back.

But I want to go

as a family this time.

With our children and grandchildren.

Shall I ask them?

No, I'll do it.

I've often thought of doing it.

Then it's time to.

Memory isn't images.

It's words. You know that, Simone.

Deep down,

the images of mother and Milou are so mingled...

I was, I'd say, at the lower age limit to enter the camp

and mother was at the upper age limit.

Few women were over 40.

Women over 40 were killed immediately?

Yes, they were taken to the gas chambers.

A few months after we arrived in Birkenau,

one of the camp guards, a kapo,

spotted me at the gate.

We went out every day for earthworks.

She told me I was young and pretty.

She wanted to help me.

There was a camp nearby that people spoke of like a myth.

She'd send me to Bobrek

and, as we'd be fewer there, life would be easier.

An "opportunity".

And I said...

I'll go nowhere unless Mum and Milou come.

We must get closer to Block 7.

Why?

To get Mum a spoon.

No...

Give it to me!

Let go of her!

Leave my mother be!

I don't care who she is, it's the law!

The brutes' law?

She looks after you and you take her food?

What are you, animals?

Simone!

14 dead today in our group! I won't starve here!

Screw you and your mother!

The girl's right!

She's right.

Her mother hid me when I fainted

on the ramp yesterday.

They killed my sister for less.

Your mother's a saint. They all know it.

I want a spoon for Mum.

Simone...

I couldn't find a spoon for your mum.

But some Hungarians arrived at dawn.

I have a friend in sorting.

You're so like my niece.

She lives in New York.

She must be wondering where I am.

Here.

Take this.

Take it.

- Well? - She had no spoon.

She gave me this.

Dresses!

Brand-new.

It's your size.

It's for you.

I don't know what to say.

If we die tomorrow, we'll be pretty.

You go to Bobrek with mother and sister. All three of you go.

We left for the Bobrek camp.

A camp near Birkenau.

In a less harsh unit.

Before leaving, we had a medical check-up.

If the kapo hadn't insisted,

Dr Mengele would have rejected Mum

as her health was declining.

At Bobrek, we did earthworks.

We cleared stones from a lot.

Then I was transferred to masonry.

Making useless walls with a trowel.

Then I worked in the Siemens plant.

We were in Bobrek from July '44 to January '45.

Throughout that time,

Mum, Milou and I managed to stay together.

You're sure you don't want to come?

It's between Mum and you now.

I'm ready.

Mum was weakening.

We did our best to protect her.

Typhus terrified us. Mum had it.

The Soviet advance soon caused the Germans to panic.

On January 18th, 1945,

we left Bobrek.

That day,

in panic and fear,

Mum, Milou and I

left with the 40,000 surviving prisoners.

Escorted by the SS fleeing the Russians,

we set off on this march that we now call

the Death March.

I was your age.

I place my hope in Europe.

Europe that has overcome hatred and barbarity

to follow the path of democracy

and solidarity between the people composing it.

More and more protests about former Yugoslavia.

Politicians of every country and side demand military intervention to end

the massacre and the concentration camps.

"We need information! When will we step in?"

We're not stupid!

We heard this 50 years ago!

Millions died because of it!

Will we argue again?

Should secrecy be broken?

Must we set civilian prisoners aside?

Do we have no right to enter the camps?

Will we hear that again for days on end?

If the Red Cross is powerless, it must say so!

We'll launch an international enquiry.

It's not all equivalent!

I refuse to hear what I heard 50 years ago,

that the priority was putting an end to the war,

while people were being killed in concentration camps.

I refuse to hear that again!

I read that you said in an interview

that building Europe reconciled you with the 20th century.

That's a fine sentence.

I did what I could.

It feels like a drop in the ocean.

I don't know what I should write

about these wars, the Rwanda genocide,

all the political scheming,

about Darquier denying gas chambers existed, Papon,

Bousquet and Barbie whom everyone protected.

I don't know what I should write about the crimes

left unpunished, all those innocents forgotten.

All the dead...

And I don't know

what I should write...

about my parents.

About my brother...

My sisters...

Us...

Our children...

You...

Write what you feel.

Talk.

We walked. All three of us walked.

Mum was very ill.

She'd had an operation just before her arrest.

The cut hadn't healed.

She walked anyway.

So many people fell on that march...

They clung to each other.

Someone clung to Mum and Milou.

I pulled them away with another prisoner.

It took courage, if it was courage, or egoism

not to try to save others

and to defend your food,

defend the blanket you had on you.

We had to survive without knowing where we were going.

People died or were shot by the road.

Those who vanquished exhaustion reached Gleiwitz.

There, it was Dante's hell.

The SS were convinced the Soviets would kill them,

and we, that the SS would kill us before the Russians arrived.

Those who had survived the march,

but in a poor state, were executed.

There were few women.

And men who hadn't seen women for a long time.

The SS tried to find women too

when the issue wasn't raised with Jews before.

For them, it was forbidden.

But there were no more rules.

Some tried to escape by any means.

But no one could cross the lines.

Those who escaped came back.

It was the end.

As the artillery fire drew closer,

the SS managed to find trains to take us away.

The men and women were separated again

and we left for Mauthausen.

But there was no room there.

So we kept going.

We were in low, open wood wagons.

There were so many of us, we could barely sit.

We feared that, in fighting,

we could be pushed out of the wagon.

The SS machine guns on the roofs would have executed us instantly.

Many died of hunger and cold in those wagons.

At each station, they removed the corpses,

leaving them on the platforms.

Nearing Prague, we passed close by the houses.

People threw bread from windows or gave us water in the stations

when the SS looked away.

That's how we survived.

It was different in Austria.

Then came Germany.

We were 35 women from Auschwitz, with a few gypsy women

who had been put with us.

When we arrived in Dora,

one of those women gave birth.

The baby was killed immediately.

The mother survived.

The next day, we left for Bergen-Belsen in a closed wagon.

In Bergen-Belsen, from late January,

the Russian advance increased.

Things became worse.

Prisoners arrived from all over, on foot, in terrible conditions.

There was no roll-call there.

Few people worked.

People were dying in their masses,

either of hunger or typhus.

I heard that, towards the end, women took shoes from corpses

to eat them.

We didn't work.

We tried to work.

It was the only way to get food.

Those who couldn't had nothing.

Eat, Milou.

Eat.

You must eat too, Simone.

That's where I found that Polish kapo again.

She recognized me

and helped me a second time.

Milou...

Simone...

Do good.

Don't wish others harm.

Without any care, Mum lasted as long as she could.

All we could do was give her a few scraps of food.

The days passed and, powerless, we witnessed

the slow death of the woman we loved more than anyone.

Where's Mum?

Mum has gone.

It's for the best.

I have never been able

to accept her death.

I see Mum every day.

She left early in the morning.

They took her body.

I never said goodbye.

She has never vanished.

She still stands by my side.

She is my strength

and my model.

More generous than me,

more indulgent...

gentler,

and calmer too.

Everything I have ever done

was thanks to her.

Every struggle

was her.

For her.

By her hand.

Mum.

Mummy!

Jump!

Mummy, look at me!

Yes, honey, I see you.

Out of the way!

Jean!

Jean, mind your sister.

Stop it!

Mummy, where's Daddy?

On the beach.

Come on in!

Come for a swim!

Mummy, look at me!

My sweet mummy.

How can I define memory?

It stands apart from history

through its direct, personal aspect

or through a family intermediation

with a past event, heavy with consequences.

For two or three generations,

memory and history are closely bound.

This memory is not just contemplative

or made up of information.

It cannot be totally objective

as it constitutes a form of consciousness,

a form of identity.

Like it or not,

aware or not, we're responsible

for what will unite us all tomorrow.

We are made of what preceded us

and what commits us to the future.

Memory primarily haunts the witnesses,

or, rather, the victims,

those of us who survived,

who experienced the suffering some say is over,

but that never truly ends.

And will not end

until we are no more.

Throughout my life, attention to others' suffering

has dictated my behaviour

on a political level

and a personal one.

Now, when I hear reassessments of the past

that, whatever their legitimacy,

trivialize the Shoah as something to put into perspective

and consign to the dungeons of History,

I truly wonder if our society is not losing its way

and confusing all struggles,

confusing rights and duties,

confusing falsehood and truth,

leading today's youth along the paths of hatred,

racism,

antisemitism

and xenophobia.

UNITED IN DIVERSITY

There are many false prophets today in France, Europe and the world

to lead the weakest among us along those paths.

Our task is to thwart them.

FOR CLAUDE DAHAN

ANTIRACIST ACTIVIST AND VOLUNTEER SOCIAL WORKER

SIMONE THE JOURNEY OF THE CENTURY