Believe the Unbelievable
This is Cioma Schönhaus’s story. When Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany, Schönhaus was just 11 years old.Later, Schönhaus tried to convince his parents to flee to no avail. This, as Magida indicates, is part and parcel of the story: believing the unbelievable.
Schönhaus’s story is multilayered with social and ethical consequences. It’s a roadmap of how to survive when people—most people—want you dead. On its face, that point is unbelievable.
Who You Are, and Who You Know
Berlin’s moral darkening into a black abyss was a multidecade undertaking. As a young Jew, Schönhaus proved alert to the voices around him—both on the right and on the left. His keen observation kept him a step ahead—sometimes literally—of the Gestapo.Furthermore, Magida demonstrates how Schönhaus’s gift for reading people assisted in his miraculous survival. There is a saying in business: “It’s not what you know; it’s who you know.” This was also the case in surviving a Holocaust event. Schönhaus had developed strong friendships during his young life. He knew who to trust. He also trusted the social recommendations of his friends. We can’t know everyone, much less intimately. “Two Wheels to Freedom” is a case study in networking. A network is only as good as the trust it’s built on.
Other aspects contributed to Schönhaus’s survival. Magida indicates that Schönhaus was handsome, a ladies’ man. But he also notes that this wasn’t necessarily a prerequisite for survival. He mentions several others in the story who were plain looking or unattractive, and their lack of appeal contributed to their survival. It enabled them to avoid attention. Certainly, attractiveness has its benefits, but Schönhaus’s looks, in this case, benefited him for a very specific reason: He didn’t look like a Jew.
Furthermore, Schönhaus was a talented artist, which made him a desired commodity within the resistance. His network and talent placed him in a position to forge more than 200 identification cards, which saved many lives.
Living While Surviving
All of this contributed to Schönhaus’s ability to survive in Europe’s heart of darkness. But there’s more to his story than survival. Schönhaus chose to live, not merely survive. He was consistently face-to-face with evil, yet he chose to see the good in people, of those who actually were good.He was determined not to cower in fear, but rather to walk the streets, eat good food, and visit friends. This isn’t to say he was foolish. Quite the opposite. He was consistently aware of his surroundings, as Magida makes clear. He also chose to love. He had numerous lovers during a time when such opportunities seemed highly unlikely. It’s one of the many lessons we can take from Schönhaus.
Lastly, he chose danger not simply for danger’s sake, but rather for the sake of his fellow Berliners—his fellow Jews. He made the moral and ethical decisions by which history judges all of us. Schönhaus’s story informs the reader that it’s not enough to survive—indeed, it’s not enough to live—if we choose to do so in fear or at the cost of our humanity and, as others chose to do in the book, at the cost of other people’s lives.