Introduction: Destruction After Liberation
When Lithuania emerged from Nazi occupation in 1944, Jewish life in the country had already been nearly extinguished. Ghettos had been liquidated, communities annihilated, and tens of thousands of Jews murdered at mass-execution sites across forests, fields, and ravines. In historical terms, the Holocaust in Lithuania was among the most complete in Europe.¹
Yet the destruction of Jewish presence did not end with liberation. In the decades that followed, Soviet authorities reshaped Lithuania’s commemorative and physical landscape in ways that further obscured Jewish history. Cemeteries were destroyed or built over, synagogues demolished, gravestones reused as
construction material, and memorial inscriptions stripped of Jewish identity. Where Jewish death had occurred, Soviet memory policy substituted universalized language—“peaceful Soviet citizens,” “victims of fascism”—that erased the specificity of Jewish suffering.²
My own research across Lithuania has repeatedly encountered this second, quieter phase of destruction. In Vilnius, Šiauliai, Kaunas (Kovno), Smalininkai, and at mass-grave sites throughout the country, I encountered places where Jewish life once stood, Jewish death occurred, and Jewish memory was later flattened into anonymity. In Šiauliai, this included the Jewish cemetery—established in the early eighteenth century and used for more than two centuries—where members of my own family were buried, including the father of Jacob Gens. The cemetery did not survive the Soviet period.
This article examines that layered history: the Nazi annihilation of Lithuanian Jewry, the Soviet erasure that followed, and the substantial efforts underway in contemporary Lithuania to confront and repair that legacy. Drawing on archival research, site visits, family-connected case studies, archaeology, and the work of Lithuanian educators, institutions, and local activists, it documents both what was lost and what is now being reclaimed.
Soviet Memory Policy and the Language of Erasure
After the war, Soviet authorities framed mass murder in Lithuania almost exclusively through the narrative of the “Great Patriotic War.” Victims were described uniformly as “peaceful Soviet citizens” or “victims of fascism,” regardless of whether the murdered population was overwhelmingly Jewish. This language reflected a deliberate ideological framework that absorbed Jewish genocide into a universal Soviet narrative and suppressed public discussion of antisemitism, targeted extermination, and Jewish communal destruction.³
Paneriai (Ponary): From Soviet Universalism to Historical Specificity
Paneriai—known historically as Ponary—is the most notorious killing site near Vilnius. Between 1941 and 1944, approximately 70,000 Jews were murdered there, alongside tens of thousands of others.⁴ In 1948, surviving Jews erected a memorial with inscriptions in Yiddish and Russian. Within a few years, Soviet authorities removed it.⁵
In its place, the Soviets installed a large obelisk and plaques that described the dead only as “Soviet citizens,” despite the overwhelming Jewish identity of the victims.⁶ After Lithuanian independence, this narrative changed. Beginning in 1991, new memorials and inscriptions explicitly identifying Jewish victims were added, transforming Paneriai into a layered site that now reflects both Soviet erasure and post-Soviet correction.⁷
Cemeteries Destroyed: Šiauliai and Smalininkai
Jewish cemeteries function as historical archives. Names, dates, languages, family relationships, and religious symbols preserve centuries of communal life. Their destruction therefore represents not only physical desecration, but the elimination of historical evidence.⁸
Šiauliai: A Cemetery of Regional Importance (1701–1965)
The Jewish cemetery in Šiauliai was among the oldest and largest in northern Lithuania. Jews were permitted to settle in the town in 1701, and communal institutions—including a cemetery—were established soon thereafter. While some sources date the first burial to 1749, the cemetery functioned continuously for more than two centuries.⁹
Located at what is today the intersection of Žalgirio Street and Rėkyvos Street, the cemetery served generations of Šiauliai’s Jewish community. After the war, a new Jewish cemetery opened on Donelaičio Street, and the old cemetery was closed. In 1964–1965, Soviet municipal authorities completed its liquidation.¹⁰
Thousands of graves were erased. In 1965, a crèche and kindergarten were constructed directly on the cemetery grounds.¹¹ Gravestones were removed, crushed, or reused.
Contemporary accounts note that in 1965–1966, Jewish gravestones were used in the construction of stairs at the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul in Šiauliai.¹²
For my family, this destruction is personal. The cemetery included the grave of Jacob Gens’ father. Its eradication severed a family’s physical connection to its dead.
Smalininkai: Birthplace Without a Cemetery
Smalininkai is the birthplace of my grandmother, Ada Gens. Its Jewish cemetery did not survive the Soviet period. Gravestones were removed and reused in pavements and construction, transforming markers of human lives into anonymous material embedded in the town’s infrastructure.
During a recent research trip, I visited the demolished Smalininkai Jewish cemetery together with Riva Vaiva, whose work in Jurbarkas and the surrounding region has focused extensively on documenting, cleaning, and preserving Jewish cemeteries and individual headstones. Her work is painstaking and physical: recording inscriptions, stabilizing stones, restoring legibility, and treating each grave as a personal record rather than an abstract historical remnant. Where no stones remain, she works to document cemetery boundaries and ensure that absence itself is explained.
Walking the Smalininkai site with her underscored how memory survives only through sustained care—stone by stone, name by name.
Vilnius: Building Over the Sacred, Uncovering the Past
For centuries, Vilnius—known to Jews as Vilna—was one of the most important centers of Jewish religious and intellectual life in the world, often referred to as the “Jerusalem of Lithuania.” Its destruction during the Holocaust was compounded by Soviet redevelopment that embedded erasure into the cityscape.
The Great Synagogue of Vilna
The Great Synagogue of Vilna, constructed in the early seventeenth century, stood at the heart of a large synagogue courtyard complex (Shulhof) that included study houses, ritual baths, and communal institutions. It was closely associated with the intellectual tradition of the city and figures such as the Vilna Gaon.
Although damaged during the Nazi occupation, the synagogue was demolished by Soviet authorities in the 1950s, and a school was built on the site. For decades, its absence was normalized.
In June 2016, my family and I were present in Vilnius with Dr. Richard Freund, who led the archaeological team that mapped the underground remains of the synagogue complex using non-invasive technologies such as ground-penetrating radar. This work confirmed the location of buried walls, floors, and mikva’ot and directly enabled subsequent archaeological excavations.¹³
In a major post-Soviet reversal, Vilnius initiated demolition of a later nursery school built atop the synagogue site in August 2025, clearing the way for heritage interpretation and public commemoration.
The Old Jewish Cemetery at Šnipiškės
The Old Jewish Cemetery at Šnipiškės, established in the late fifteenth century, was one of the most sacred Jewish burial grounds in Lithuania. It was the original burial place of the Vilna Gaon, interred there in 1797.
During the Soviet period, the cemetery was destroyed. In 1971, the Vilnius Concert and Sports Palace was constructed on the cemetery grounds. Gravestones were removed or destroyed. The remains of the Vilna Gaon and other prominent figures were later reinterred at the Jewish cemetery in Sudervė, where a mausoleum was erected.¹⁴
Today, Šnipiškės remains one of Lithuania’s most ethically complex heritage sites—an unavoidable reminder of Soviet redevelopment and the long effort required to restore historical truth.
The Jewish Cemetery in Užupis: A Sacred Space Erased
The Jewish cemetery in Užupis, established in the early nineteenth century, once served as one of Vilnius’ primary Jewish burial grounds. For more than a century, it functioned as a place of mourning, memory, and continuity for the city’s Jewish population, receiving thousands of burials and reflecting the growth and vitality of Jewish life in Vilnius.
The cemetery did not survive the Soviet period. After the war, it was closed, dismantled, and ultimately destroyed. Gravestones were removed, displaced, or repurposed, and the cemetery’s boundaries were erased from public awareness. What had been a clearly defined sacred space was transformed into an ordinary urban landscape, stripped of visible markers indicating that generations of Jews were buried there.
The fate of the Užupis cemetery mirrors that of Šnipiškės and other Jewish burial grounds across Lithuania. In each case, destruction was not accompanied by meaningful commemoration or explanation, leaving absence where memory once stood. Today, the history of the Užupis cemetery survives primarily through documentation, research, and deliberate acts of remembrance—underscoring how much of Vilnius’ Jewish past must now be recovered through knowledge rather than preserved through place.
Remembrance, Education, and Lithuanian-Led Restoration
Contemporary remembrance in Lithuania is increasingly supported by Lithuanian institutions and civil society. Museums such as the Vilna Gaon Museum of Jewish History and research bodies including the Genocide and Resistance Research Centre of Lithuania play central roles in correcting Soviet-era distortions and supporting site-based education.¹⁵
At mass-grave sites across the country, I repeatedly encountered stones left on memorials—a quiet indication that visitors had come to remember and pay respects. While I did not personally observe student groups at cemeteries, Lithuania has increasingly integrated Holocaust sites into educational frameworks that emphasize historical accuracy, ethical reflection, and the importance of naming victims correctly.¹⁶
Local activists remain essential. In the Jurbarkas region, Riva Vaiva’s cemetery documentation and preservation work exemplifies how memory is sustained through repeated, physical care—returning
to sites, cleaning stones, recording names, and refusing to allow Jewish burial grounds to vanish a second time.
Conclusion: Repair Without Reconstruction
The cemeteries destroyed during the Soviet period cannot be rebuilt. The synagogues demolished will not return. But memory—when grounded in truth and specificity—can be repaired. Across Lithuania, historians, archaeologists, educators, municipalities, and local activists are working to replace Soviet silence with historical clarity.
Standing at sites where my own family’s dead were once buried, visiting Smalininkai—my grandmother Ada Gens’ birthplace—with those committed to preserving its erased Jewish history, and witnessing the uncovering of the Great Synagogue’s remains, I have seen how remembrance functions not as accusation, but as responsibility. Naming the dead correctly does not reopen wounds; it prevents their disappearance.
Citations
- Yitzhak Arad, Ghetto in Flames (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 1980).
- Amir Weiner, Making Sense of War (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001).
- Karel Berkhoff, Motherland in Danger (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006).
- United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, “Ponary,” Holocaust Encyclopedia.
- Yad Vashem Archives, Memorial Policy Files, Vilnius District.
- Jewish Heritage Europe, “Paneriai Memorial History.”
- Vilna Gaon Museum of Jewish History, Paneriai Exhibition Materials.
- David Roskies, The Jewish Search for a Usable Past (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999).
- Šiauliai Municipal Archives, Jewish Cemetery Records.
- Nerijus Brazauskas, “Destruction of Jewish Cemeteries in Šiauliai,” Lithuanian Historical Studies.
- Šiauliai City Council Minutes, 1964–1965.
- Lithuanian Heritage Department Reports, Šiauliai Region.
- Jewish Heritage Europe; LiveScience, “Remains of Vilna’s Great Synagogue Found,” 2015–2016.
- Vilnius Jewish Community Archives, Šnipiškės Reburial Documentation.
- Genocide and Resistance Research Centre of Lithuania, Educational Programs.
- International Commission for the Evaluation of the Crimes of the Nazi and Soviet Occupation Regimes in Lithuania, Educational Frameworks.