I’ve spent this past semester in a first-year seminar about the legacy of Anne Frank called “Anne Frank’s Diary and its Legacy” (CJST165F). We’ve seen dozens of movies, books, shows, cameos, clips, house tours, and articles about Anne. The conversations were as fruitful as they were critical, successfully unpacking the successes and failures of each piece of media. Yet, as the class wrapped up and I stepped back to reflect on how my perspective about Anne’s legacy had changed, something felt unfinished. Our reflections didn’t feel entirely accurate to what I’d observed about Anne Frank in pop culture today. Then it occurred to me: 

We should have studied Holocaust denial in class. 

And not just one conspiracy theory post: We should read the more egregious theories about Anne’s diary fraudulence; watch the most sexualized, inappropriate jokes; and peel through the meanest comment sections we can find. When studying Anne Frank and her legacy, I think this is not only an important, but a vital component of the contemporary world’s engagement with this young girl. And the exclusion of these parts of media aren’t specific to the Anne Frank class. When we consider Holocaust education and media in classes, in articles, and in conversations, there is a tendency to believe popular culture and beliefs are shaped by the official and highbrow art that’s produced. For all of these valuable and thoughtful conversations, I don’t think they reflect the landscape of contemporary Holocaust memory right now.

We undersell the cultural reach of the crude jokes and conspiracy theories that show up in TikTok comments and hashtags. In the context of the Holocaust’s—and specifically Anne Frank’s—‘mainstream’ legacy, there is a tendency to characterize Hollywood movies as the primary voice of Anne’s contemporary identity. I’d argue, however, that in a world dominated by YouTube videos, TikTok clips, and comment sections, Anne Frank is most alive in these tweets and ten-second clips rather than a book or full length movie. The age of the internet and social media has democratized platforms of culture and ideas, and a consequence of this is that the leaders of belief and collective memory aren’t Hallmark media and educational institutions—it’s anyone who can get their hands on a phone. So then, in these spheres, there is some pretty degrading stuff.

I think it’s fair to characterize the types of hateful material about Anne Frank and the Holocaust as a gradient. There is a domain of denial and hate that is not very extreme. This is usually limited to crude or insensitive language describing her, her sexuality, her identity, or her death. In many ways, this has very little to do with Anne and is derived more from an online culture of bluntness. But I think this makes it more pernicious in some ways, because it means the language of the internet doesn’t accommodate the sensitive mourning tone that the Holocaust ought to be spoken about with. 

Then, there are jokes and videos that explicitly make fun of Anne, jokes usually at the expense of either her Jewishness or her young sexuality. This, I think, comes from some of the nastier sides of the internet, which can be quite sexually perverse and certainly very violent. Just because these beliefs feel fringe in our everyday lives doesn’t mean they don’t have the capacity to spread quite far, especially when targeting young men. 

And of course there is explicit and violent antisemitism, usually manifesting in either denying the existence of the diary or the Holocaust in general, or celebrating the violence perpetrated against Anne and the Jewish people. All of these beliefs and ideas, I would argue, are quite prevalent on the internet. They are not hard to find, nor are they fiercely condemned by other internet users. I searched ‘Anne Frank’ in the Reddit search bar—something no one should ever do, frankly—and almost every result was shockingly inappropriate. The users made flippant and intentionally offensive jokes about the Holocaust and crudely dissected the sexual parts of her diary in some of the earliest searches. So, the first reason to study this hate and denial is simply that it has become a large part of the story of Anne. If we are to properly understand Anne’s contemporary legacy, this is a portion of it. When we study the legacy of Anne and the Holocaust through official movies and educational programs, we should consider the social landscape they are received in. This conversation isn’t just about the production of media, it’s about the psychology and social engagement of the consumer. And being on almost any mainstream social media platform, especially TikTok or Reddit, means the consumers become warped.

The other reason I think it’s so crucial is because this media better frames the conversations we do have about ‘positive’ Anne Frank material. When movies, documentaries, or books are produced with the intention of reverently, positively, accurately, and educationally depicting Anne, they ought to be studied next to soundbites of offensive content. This is because it better contextualizes the intention and impact of the positive media. In academic settings, I worry there are moments we become critical for the sake of being critical, while losing sight of the larger goals and impacts of these movies and books. I think placing the positive media into a more complete picture of contemporary Holocaust conversations—one that tackles the full extent of good and bad—makes for more honest, fair, and thoughtful conversations about the role of this media. 

I also think learning about the worst of Holocaust posts and videos makes for more effective criticism of the ‘positive’ media. This is because Americans, in my experience, aren’t particularly well-versed in antisemitism. They don’t usually understand its intensity or the language it manifests in. There isn’t much conversation about it in most schools, aside from the Holocaust, and it doesn’t fit cleanly into the traditional paradigm of American oppression, which tends to be more associated with America’s history of race and class than the more hidden and international forms that antisemitism takes.

So when we see Anne Frank media that erases Anne’s Jewishness, for most audience members—and perhaps even people in our classrooms—it isn’t the end of the world. Complaints about the religion of the actress or the de-Jewification of the Holocaust can feel nitpicky in academic settings because there isn’t media that demonstrates the way these sentiments can escalate into intense antisemitism. Basically, it can be hard to understand why the complaints about ‘good’ Anne Frank media matter unless you see the larger social background they live in. By seeing and studying Anne Frank media created by and for sexists, incels, and antisemites, we can see if those beliefs—or versions of them—appear in mainstream media. ‘Dejewifying’ Anne might not matter to everyone who studies a mainstream film. But it does matter when we see how that message can play into Holocaust denial, a deeply grave yet familiar example of antisemitism. 

This hateful content provides insight into a dimension of the Anne Frank universe we like to ignore. It is brutally sexist, relentlessly antisemitic, and often violent. But if we are to truly understand how a contemporary world understands Anne’s story, and the Holocaust in general, we have to venture to these dark places. In many ways, they are the foundation of the cultural climate we stand on. 

Julia Schroers can be reached at jschroers@wesleyan.edu.