Die Zweiflers and Frankfurt’s Yiddish Underworld

The series is full of conflicts and side plots: in only six episodes three different romantic relationships undergo a crisis, not to mention the police investigation against the grandfather of the ganef family. Intergenerational conflict is central too, as the above mentioned relationship between Schmuel and Saba illustrates. The older generations try to instill their insistence on segregation from the goys to the next generation, and this tension manifests itself not only through the common tropes of the familial expectation to date only Jews and perform a bris, but also through an interesting usage of Yiddish. The grandparents continuously express their unwillingness – or perhaps inability – to leave tradition behind through their language. The quote that opened this piece is representative of the whole series: depressed Lilka always talks in her heymish Yiddish, and her family always answers her in German. Similarly, while Schmuel produces new hip-hop music – his grandpa still beautifully sings Oyfn veg shteyt a boym. ^{15 15} As Shayna Weíss described in her piece about Shtisel, there as well the grandma speaks mostly Yiddish whereas the younger generations speak Hebrew. However, the shift to Hebrew in Shtisl does not reflect assimilation into non-Jewish culture or even a non-religious one, as the Hebrew-speakers are also Ultra-orthodox. Shayna Weiss, “Shtisel’s Ghosts: The Politics of Yiddish in Israeli Popular Culture”, In geveb (March 2016). https://ingeveb.org/blog/shtisel-s-ghosts-the-politics-of-yiddish-in-israeli-popular-culture

Whereas the plot in die Zweiflers is so dense that it sometimes feels unrealistic, its usage of Yiddish is perfectly anchored in reality. Perhaps this is because so many actors in the impressive production are actually Jewish – many of the younger actors grew up in Germany’s Jewish community, and the actors who play the grandparents, who do not live in Germany, are both native Yiddish speakers. From time to time, the young Jews in die Zweiflers do say some Yiddish words – one of Schmuel’s childhood friends, for example, once screams “Gevald”, and in the fifth episode granddaughter Dana (Deleila Piasko) asks if there are any leftover pulkes. But these isolated Yiddish words and expressions only attest to the transformation of the language from a living one to a post-vernacular one, part of familial and communal folklore. This pattern of linguistic decline across generations is a familiar story, and it has occurred at the conflicted crossroads of German and Yiddish since the nineteenth century. ^{16 16} Aya Elyada’s research about West Yiddish words in German texts confirm that also in the 19th century, individual Yiddish words were incorporated in German by German-speaking Jews, confirming the decline of (West) Yiddish while also reflecting a warm nostalgia for it. This process naturally occurred in many other contexts – otherwise, we would not have the word ganef in English. Aya Elyada, “Between the Jewish Past and the German Present: Old Yiddish Texts and German-Jewish Nostalgia” (Hebrew), Tabur: Yearbook for European History, Society, Culture and Thought, no. 12 (2024), https://tabur.huji.ac.il/%D7%91%D7%99%D7%9F-%D7%94%D7%A2%D7%91%D7%A8-%D7%94%D7%99%D7%94%D7%95%D7%93%D7%99-%D7%9C%D7%94%D7%95%D7%95%D7%94-%D7%94%D7%92%D7%A8%D7%9E%D7%A0%D7%99-%D7%99%D7%99%D7%93%D7%99%D7%A9-%D7%95%D7%A0%D7%95%D7%A1%D7%98%D7%9C%D7%92%D7%99%D7%94-%D7%91%D7%AA%D7%A8%D7%91%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%99%D7%94%D7%95%D7%93%D7%99%D7%AA%D6%BE%D7%92%D7%A8%D7%9E%D7%A0%D7%99%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%9E%D7%95%D7%93%D7%A8%D7%A0%D7%99%D7%AA However, this is the first time it has been enacted so convincingly on German TV.

As I have already noted in an interview with the Forward, die Zweiflers situates Jewish life in Germany within a transnational crossroads: the grandparents moved to Frankfurt from Poland, their daughter Tammi (Ute Lemper) moved from Frankfurt to the US, her brother-in-law Jackie (the wonderful Mark Ivanir) is a post-Soviet Jew who feels most comfortable in Russian, and his daughter (the aforementioned Dana) made aliyah and married an Israeli. This again is a realistic portrait of the migratory patterns of contemporary German Jews and provides a further explanation for the second post-vernacularization of Yiddish in Germany – the influence of the constant migrations. ^{17 17} In addition, the Jewish community of post-Holocaust Frankfurt also included a highly influential group of German Jews, who had never spoken Yiddish. Among them were a few well-known personalities, such as philosopher Theodor W. Adorno. The yekkes and the Ostjuden in the city had many tensions in the 1950s, but in some respects, not only the language, the Eastern European community has merged into the German Jewish group over the years. See: Freimüller, “Migration, Memory and New Beginnings”.

A few books and films have already described the unique Jewish community of post-Holocaust Frankfurt while alluding to its involvement in crime, ^{18 18} See: Itai Lev, On Packed Suitcases, 2018, a documentary about the Punk-Klezmer band The Jewish Monkeys, and the first books in Michel Bergmann’s trilogy about the Jewish community in Frankfurt, that incorporate many Yiddish words: Michel Bergmann, Die Teilacher (Zürich: Arche, 2010); Michel Bergmann, Machloikes (Zürich: Arche, 2011). Die Teilacher was also made into a filmcalled Bye Bye Germany. among them LE CHAIM!, the imprecise documentary that was released together with Die Zweiflers. ^{19 19} The documentary was released on German TV as a part of the promotion of die Zweiflers, and was presented as revealing the real story behind the series. However, it is important to note that the film’s portrayal of the ganefs is partial and too innocent, for example by falsely presenting prostitution and Jewish bars in Frankfurt as two unrelated topics. Interestingly, when the old Jews in the film are interviewed talk about their childhood, they describe Yiddish as the language not only of their youth young years but also of the whole red-light district of that time, claiming that all procurers, newspaper sellers, and taxi drivers spoke it. Ilana Goldschmidt and Adrian Oeser, directors, LE CHAIM! Auf Das Leben Unserer Eltern, aired October 10, 2024 on ARD (Hessischer Rundfunk). But perhaps the most interesting source about post-Holocaust Yiddish in Frankfurt is the Israeli press. During the 1960s and 1970s various Israeli newspapers reported frequently and sensationally about the ganefs, surprisingly highlighting the ganefs’ Yiddish.

In 1962, for example, Uri Dan published a six article series in the daily Maariv titled “Jews in Yordim in Germany”. The reportage highly criticized the Jewish underworld in Frankfurt, as hinted by its title: Yordim, a Hebrew term regarded today as an insult, which is used to describe Jews who migrated out of Israel, thus betraying Zionism. Describing the atmosphere of the Jewish-owned striptease clubs in Frankfurt in the first article in the series, Dan notes that non-Jewish sex workers are referred to as Khavches, a Yiddish diminutive for the Jewish name Hava. ^{20 20} Uri Dan, “Yosale - the Ruler of Frankfurt’s Underworld: Jews and Emigrants in Germany, Pt. 1” (Hebrew), Maariv, January 4, 1962, 3. Dan also describes how an owner asks patrons at his bar, “du vilst a shikse?” and then proceeds by speaking Yiddish phrases to the khavches such as“Helga, kum aher”. The fourth article in Dan’s series, titled “Selling ‘Pekalakh’ through Dubious Tricks”, focused not on the bar-owning ganefs but on the less prosperous door-to-door traders. Here as well Dan describes the widespread usage of Yiddish in downtown Frankfurt, and quotes a ganef explaining that the pekalakh – which were usually fake or stolen rags repatched as bedsheets – are just a bunch of shmates. I could easily imagine the Zweifler family members saying similar things.

In 1964 Haaretz published another article on the ganefs, claiming that 42 out of the 50 shady bars in Frankfurt were Jewish-owned. Reporter Amos Eylon wrote that upon approaching the red-light district of the city he sat in a café where he heard two ganefs, the owner and his guest, talking in Yiddish about a waitress who had troubles with the police. Eylon approached them by saying “a mekhaye to hear mame-loshen here!”, to which they fondly replied by saying “Oh, a landsman!”, inviting him to join them and revealing to him that the guest was the owner of the Kolibri, a bar hinted by Eylon to be a brothel. ^{21 21} Amos Eylon, “‘Had It Not Been So Hot in Israel’” (Hebrew), Haaretz, September 11, 1964, 11. According to another source, Kolibri was an important gay club: David Moskovits, Die Kolibri-Bar – Ein Zeitzeuge erinnert sich, December 7, 2023, Schwules Archiv Frankfurt. Other bars/brothels are named in the article as well. This prominence given to the ganefs’ Yiddish in the Israeli press is curious, especially as in the German articles about the ganefs their language is not mentioned even once. ^{22 22} The German press in general reported much less often and much less critically about the ganefs’ criminal activity. However, there is absolutely no mention of the ganefs’ Yiddish in the few articles that can be found. That is true to articles about the ganefs’ trials in the 1950s, to later articles about their real-estate activities, including articles about Buchmann from the 1960s published around the time his Yiddish was mentioned in articles in Israel, and even most articles about well-known Buchmann from the last twenty years. For a few examples, see: Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, “Aus Angst keine Anzeigen erstattet: Weitere Ueberfälle der fünffestgenommenen Polen ermittelt,” August 13, 1951, 5; R. E., “Überfallkommando im Gerichtsgebäude: Tätliche Ängriffe auf zwei frankfurter Bildsreporter,” Frankfurter Rundschau, October 14, 1954, 4; tme., “Das Nachtleben soll weiter florieren: Besitzerwechsel des „Imperial“ läßt nicht auf eine Krise schließen,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, May 21, 1964, 14; vi., “AGI gegen Buchmanns Baupläne: Die Stadt soll sich nicht „erpressen“ lassen,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, January 11, 1974, 33; rieb., “Stiftung hier, Schenkung dort: Ehrenplakatte für Frankfurts Immobilienkönig Buchmann,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, December 17, 2011, 46. For more examples of Israeli articles mentioning the ganefs Yiddish, see these interviews: Haolam Haze, “The King of “Deutsche Vita” Conquers Hilton: The Deal the Government Did with Yosale Buchmann” (Hebrew), April 21, 1971, 18-26, 26. For another interview, see: Yuval Elizur, “The Marks Are Flowing into Hayarkon Street: Pt. 1” (Hebrew), Maariv, July 9, 1971, 14, 22.

Although in the 1960s Yiddish was stigmatized both in Germany and in Israel, it had very different associations in these places. In Israel, the mocked jargon was for many a symbol for the pre-Holocaust Jewish diaspora. For Israeli reporters, the lively usage of Yiddish in Frankfurt may have just seemed like a colorful anecdote, or may have served to confirm that the ganefs belong to the diaspora, placing them at a cultural distance from the Israeli readership. Some Israeli journalists also used Yiddish as a part of their reporting, speaking the language to the ganefs to get them talking.

In contrast, German reporting was cautious in its references to the ganefs’ use of Yiddish. As Yiddish was the mother tongue of most Polish Jews and the dominant language in the DP camps, ^{23 23} Ella Florsheim, Words Reaching for Life: Yiddish Culture in the Displaced Persons Camps (Hebrew) (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem; Merkaz Zalman Shazar, 2020). nothing is more natural than the Frankfurt ganefs simply using it. However, German reporters may have sensed a danger that the ganefs’ Yiddish, similar to their involvement in prostitution, could easily be interpreted as the embodiment of an antisemitic trope. According to this myth, which has since been discredited, Yiddish is a corrupted version of German developed by Jewish crooks so the German authorities could not understand them, similar to Rotwelsch, the famous German thieves’ cant. ^{24 24} Aya Elyada, A Goy Who Speaks Yiddish: Christians and the Jewish Language in Early Modern Germany (Stanford California: Stanford University Press, 2012), 99-117; Berkowitz, The Crime of My Very Existence, 11.
Perhaps caution around the possibility of reinforcing this myth is the reason German newspapers never commented on the use of Yiddish in Frankfurt and why the ganefs appear so rarely in scholarly works. Precisely because of these hesitancies around ascribing Yiddish to the underworld, the use of Yiddish is crucial for understanding the ganefs, who, as hinted before with the Fassbinder controversy, have caused a scandal or two. Die Zweiflers, which puts Yiddish in the mouths of its characters in a very authentic way, is not only a fun watch, but also a provocative and refreshing one, that complexifies, refutes, and plays with common conceptions and misconceptions about Jewish life in Germany.