Focus ROMI.HR

The Jasenovac concentration camp is a place marked by absence: absence of humanity, of justice, and in some ways, of memory. What is most striking about Jasenovac today is the profound silence that surrounds it — not only the physical quiet of the open fields, but the subdued way in which the history is presented.

The outdoor areas of the memorial site offer no translations, not in English, nor in any other language. Foreign visitors wander through the space unable to grasp the meaning of what they are seeing. The lack of accessible information raises questions about who this memory is meant for, and whether the past is being preserved with the transparency and openness it demands. As if the history here is only meant for a few to understand. As if this horror, this pain, should not cross borders. 

It is a strange kind of remembering: one that whispers instead of speaks. The narrative is there, but in a low voice. Like saying, yes, we acknowledge it, but let’s not talk too loud, let’s not disturb too much.

Speaking the Unspoken: The Porajmos

For this reason, it is essential to shed light on the often-forgotten genocide — the one that remains largely absent from public discourse: the Porajmos, the extermination of the Roma people during the Second World War. This article aims to break that silence and give space to a history that has too often been overlooked, neglected, or deliberately ignored.

Although the Roma were one of the main targets of the Nazi regime, their suffering has often been minimized or entirely excluded from mainstream narratives. The exact numbers remain unclear due to incomplete records and the historical marginalization of Roma voices.

The persecution of Roma was based on racist ideology that viewed them as “racially inferior” and a threat to social order. When Adolf Hitler came to power in 1933, anti-Roma sentiment already permeated German society. The Nazi regime quickly began enforcing racial policies targeting groups they deemed “undesirable,” including Jews, Roma, disabled people, and others. The Nuremberg Laws of 1935, which institutionalized racial discrimination against Jews, were soon extended to Roma and Sinti, classifying them as “racially alien” and banning marriage or sexual relations between Roma and non-Roma citizens of Germany.

One of the earliest forms of state-sponsored persecution was the Law for the Prevention of Hereditarily Diseased Offspring, under which thousands of Roma were forcibly sterilized. These measures were justified by pseudo-scientific racial theories that portrayed Roma as genetically “inferior,” “asocial,” or inherently criminal.

In 1936, on the eve of the Berlin Olympics, the Nazi government forcibly relocated hundreds of Roma to the Marzahn camp, a bleak encampment on the outskirts of Berlin surrounded by barbed wire and patrolled by police. This marked the beginning of a widespread effort to isolate Roma and Sinti from German society and monitor their movements.

With the outbreak of World War II and the invasion of Eastern Europe, Nazi racial policy intensified. Across the continent — from France and the Netherlands to Hungary, Slovakia, and Romania — Roma communities were rounded up, deported, and murdered. Mobile killing units (Einsatzgruppen) carried out mass shootings of Roma, especially in territory of Soviet Europe. In many instances, entire villages were wiped out.

Deportations to extermination camps like Auschwitz-Birkenau, Chelmo, and Majdanek became more systematic from 1942 onward. At Auschwitz, the Nazis established a separate section for Roma — the Zigeunerlager — where over 20,000 men, women, and children were imprisoned in horrific conditions. On the night of August 2, 1944, nearly 3,000 Roma were murdered in the gas chambers, an event commemorated today as Roma Holocaust Memorial Day.

In some regions, local collaborators — including fascist regimes in Hungary, Slovakia, Romania and the Independent State of Croatia (NDH) — actively participated in the extermination of Roma. In the NDH, mass killings began in may 1942, when authorities passed decrees explicitly targeting Roma for deportation and extermination under the guise of racial cleansing. Thousands were sent to the Jasenovac camp system — operated by the fascist Ustaša regime — where they faced extreme violence, forced labor, starvation, and systematic execution. Jasenovac functioned as both a concentration and extermination camp, marked by particularly brutal, non-industrial methods of killing.

Beyond the camps: the total destruction of Roma life

But the Porajmos was not limited to camps. Many Roma were killed in mass shootings, tortured, and subjected to brutal treatment in ghettos and rural areas. The destruction of entire Roma communities meant that cultural traditions, languages, and ways of life were severely disrupted, leaving lasting scars.

Einsatzgruppen (mobile killing squads) and local militias carried out summary executions of entire families — including children, elders, and pregnant women — often forcing them to dig their own graves beforehand. These mass killings were especially prevalent in Eastern Europe, including Ukraine, Belarus, Russia and Poland.

In many places, specially in Romania, Roma communities were forcibly relocated into ghettos or segregated settlements, where they endured starvation, disease, and exposure to the elements. In rural areas, Roma were hunted down, beaten, and tortured, often with the complicity or active participation of local authorities and neighbors. With no access to legal protections or due process, they were easy targets for arbitrary violence.

The genocide also involved deliberate cultural erasure. Entire Roma villages were burned to the ground, and with them disappeared not only lives, but also oral histories, traditional music, crafts, and communal structures that had been passed down for generations. The attack on the Roma people was not just physical — it was existential. It sought to annihilate their languages, including Romani and its dialects, their nomadic traditions, their spiritual practices, and their very right to belong.

This violent rupture inflicted intergenerational trauma. In many cases, the few survivors of these massacres lived in silence, too fearful or ashamed to speak of what they had endured. The postwar period offered no space for remembrance or healing, as most Roma were excluded from reparations, memorials, and public recognition. The scars left by this destruction are still deeply felt today, as Roma communities across Europe continue to fight for dignity, justice, and the right to tell their own stories.

The forgotten Holocaust

Unlike other victim groups, the Roma genocide was less documented. This lack of documentation is partly due to the systemic marginalization of Roma communities before, during, and after the war. The Nazis often neglected to keep detailed records of Roma victims, contributing to the difficulty in fully grasping the scope of the genocide. 

Not only that, but, for more than 30 years, mass killings of Roma were not even recognized as genocide. The Porajmos has long been referred to as the “forgotten Holocaust.” For decades, it received little to no attention in school curricula, public memorials, or official historical accounts. This silence has helped perpetuate antigypsyism and contributed to the ongoing marginalization of Roma communities.

To recognize and remember this genocide is not only a matter of justice for the victims and their descendants. It is a necessary step toward acknowledging how racism and hate can escalate into mass violence—and toward building a society where such horrors are never repeated.

Amid the silence, it is important to acknowledge the tireless efforts of those committed to ensuring that this history is not forgotten. The work of individuals and organizations who have contributed to the creation and preservation of the memorial site in Jasenovac, as well as the Roma cemetery in Uštica, represents a powerful act of remembrance. Their dedication serves to honour every life lost and every name erased. In the face of such atrocities, oblivion becomes yet another form of violence — perhaps the most painful one, if anything could be more painful than what these victims endured.