The Doomed Voyage of the St. Louis

All Ruth Zellner wanted was to get to shore. Looking out from the deck of the giant steamliner the St. Louis, the 18-year-old could see the bright lights and palm trees of Miami.

“I [wished] they would let us in,” Zellner recalled in a 1999 interview. “I wasn’t particularly interested in going to America. I was interested in staying alive.”

Zellner and her parents were among the 937 people—almost all German Jews—who’d boarded the St. Louis hoping to escape the forces of Nazi Germany and find safety elsewhere. The passengers had departed Hamburg, Germany, on May 13, 1939, en route to Cuba. Most had documents from the Cuban government that would allow them to stay there while they awaited visas to come to the U.S.  

But when the ship arrived, the Cuban government had had a change of heart and prevented almost all of the passengers from disembarking.

Ruth Zellner was looking out from the deck of the giant steamliner the St. Louis. From it, the 18-year-old could see the bright lights and palm trees of Miami. All she wanted was to get to shore.

“I [wished] they would let us in,” Zellner recalled in a 1999 interview. “I wasn’t particularly interested in going to America. I was interested in staying alive.”

Zellner and her parents were among the 937 people aboard the St. Louis. Almost all passengers on the ship were German Jews. They had boarded the ship hoping to escape from Nazi Germany and find safety elsewhere. The ship departed Hamburg, Germany, on May 13, 1939, en route to Cuba. Most had documents from the Cuban government. These documents would allow them to stay there while they awaited visas to come to the U.S.

But when the ship arrived, the Cuban government had had a change of heart. It prevented almost all of the passengers from leaving the ship.

The St. Louis then turned toward Miami, as passengers pleaded with the United States, Canada, and any other nation on this side of the Atlantic that would listen to save them.

None of them did.

“That’s when [we] really screamed,” Zellner said in an oral history conducted by the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. “It was a riot.”

The St. Louis was forced to return to Europe. Though Zellner survived World War II, many others on the ship weren’t so lucky: More than a quarter of them were killed in the Holocaust.

Many say the turning away of the St. Louis by the U.S. 80 years ago is one of the most infamous moments in American history, when the nation failed to live up to its ideals as a land of refuge.

“We tell ourselves in the United States, in our national mythology, that we’re a nation of immigrants,” says Daniel Greene, a historian at the Holocaust Memorial Museum.
“And then we often don’t live out those realities on the ground.”

The St. Louis then turned toward Miami. The passengers on board pleaded with the United States, Canada, and any other nation on this side of the Atlantic that would listen to save them.

None of them did.

“That’s when [we] really screamed,” Zellner said in an oral history conducted by the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. “It was a riot.” 

The St. Louis was forced to return to Europe. Zellner survived World War II. Many others on the ship weren’t so lucky. In fact, more than a quarter of them were killed in the Holocaust.

Many say the turning away of the St. Louis by the U.S. 80 years ago is one of the most infamous moments in American history. In other words, it depicts a time when the nation failed to live up to its ideals as a land of refuge.

“We tell ourselves in the United States, in our national mythology, that we’re a nation of immigrants,” says Daniel Greene, a historian at the Holocaust Memorial Museum. “And then we often don’t live out those realities on the ground.”

By the time the St. Louis set sail in 1939, it was clear to Zellner and many other German Jews that they were in danger.

Adolf Hitler had risen to power as chancellor of Germany six years earlier (see timeline, below), using Jews as a scapegoat for many of the nation’s problems, including its defeat in World War I (1914-18) and the economic crisis that followed. In his speeches and writings, he compared Jews to “vermin” and called them “subhuman.”

As Germany’s leader, he took advantage of widespread anti-Semitism to systematically target Jewish people, stripping them of their rights, forbidding them to work in certain jobs, and shutting down Jewish businesses.

This anti-Semitic rhetoric and legislation turned into physical violence on the night of November 9, 1938, known as Kristallnacht, or the “Night of Broken Glass.” Vicious mobs, spurred by Nazi officials, decimated Zellner’s hometown of Breslau, Germany, and other Jewish communities. They destroyed thousands of Jewish-owned businesses, homes, and schools, killed nearly 100 Jews, and imprisoned another 30,000 in concentration camps.

Zellner and others sensed that this was only the beginning.

“You knew that things were coming. Nobody knew how horrible, but still,” she recalled. “Everybody was trying to get out.”

By the time the St. Louis set sail in 1939, it was clear to Zellner and many other German Jews that they were in danger.

Adolf Hitler had risen to power as chancellor of Germany six years earlier (see timeline, p. 18),. He used Jews as a scapegoat for many of the nation’s problems, including its defeat in World War I (1914-18) and the economic crisis that followed. In his speeches and writings, he compared Jews to “vermin” and called them “subhuman.”

As Germany’s leader, he took advantage of widespread anti-Semitism to systematically target Jewish people. He stripped them of their rights, forbid them to work in certain jobs, and shut down Jewish businesses. 

This anti-Semitic rhetoric and legislation turned into physical violence on the night of November 9, 1938. That night is known as Kristallnacht, or the “Night of Broken Glass.” Vicious mobs, spurred by Nazi officials, destroyed Zellner’s hometown of Breslau, Germany, and other Jewish communities. They wiped out thousands of Jewish-owned businesses, homes, and schools. The mobs killed nearly 100 Jews and imprisoned another 30,000 in concentration camps.

Zellner and others sensed that this was only the beginning. 

“You knew that things were coming. Nobody knew how horrible, but still,” she recalled. “Everybody was trying to get out.”

The worst was yet to come: By 1945, 6 million European Jews would be murdered by the Nazis—either shot on sight or imprisoned in concentration camps, where they were worked and starved to death or killed in gas chambers. Two-thirds of the continent’s Jewish population would be wiped out, along with another 5 million people, including Roma, Poles, homosexuals, and the disabled.

Zellner and her parents left their friends, family, and home behind, and boarded the St. Louis in May 1939 with only suitcases of clothes, about $120, and landing permits for Cuba. Still, they considered themselves among the lucky few who were escaping.

“We were happy,” Zellner said. “We thought we were out of it—which we were not.”

The worst was yet to come: By 1945, 6 million European Jews would be murdered by the Nazis. Many of the victims were shot on sight. Others were imprisoned in concentration camps. There, they were worked and starved to death or killed in gas chambers. Two-thirds of the continent’s Jewish population would be wiped out. And another 5 million people were killed, including Roma, Poles, homosexuals, and the disabled.

Zellner and her parents left their friends, family, and home behind, and boarded the St. Louis in May 1939. They had only suitcases of clothes, about $120, and landing permits for Cuba. Still, they considered themselves among the lucky few who were escaping.

“We were happy,” Zellner said. “We thought we were out of it—which we were not.”

Little did they know that a few days before they had set sail, 40,000 Cubans had protested the ship’s arrival. The pro-fascist Cuban government caved to this pressure, and when the St. Louis pulled into Cuba’s port after its two-week voyage, only 28 passengers were allowed to disembark.

The rest were stuck at sea.

“People were planning to go overboard,” Zellner said. “They were not taking any chances to go to Germany. They’d rather drown.”

One passenger, who’d already been in a concentration camp, tried to commit suicide. He slit his wrist and jumped overboard, but a crew member saved him and took him to a hospital in Havana, Cuba. However, his wife and kids weren’t allowed to go with him.

A committee of passengers, including Zellner’s father, Max, worked with U.S.-based Jewish organizations to try to convince the Cuban government to let more passengers in, but to no avail.

Over the next 10 days, the St. Louis remained in the Atlantic Ocean, the fate of the passengers in limbo. Some of them cabled President Franklin D. Roosevelt asking for refuge. He never responded. They received only a telegram from the State Department saying they wouldn’t be allowed in at the time.

After more than three weeks at sea, the St. Louis re-routed to Antwerp, Belgium. Jewish organizations had negotiated with four European governments to take in the passengers. The luckiest ones—nearly 300, including the Zellners—went to Great Britain, where all but one survived the war. The rest were divided up among the Netherlands, Belgium, and France. Each of these nations was later invaded by Germany, and more than 250 of the St. Louis passengers were killed in the Holocaust.

Little did they know that a few days before they had set sail, 40,000 Cubans had protested the ship’s arrival. The pro-fascist Cuban government caved to this pressure. As a result, when the St. Louis pulled into Cuba’s port after its two-week voyage, only 28 passengers were allowed to disembark.

The rest were stuck at sea.

“People were planning to go overboard,” Zellner said. “They were not taking any chances to go to Germany. They’d rather drown.”

One passenger, who’d already been in a concentration camp, tried to commit suicide. He slit his wrist and jumped overboard, but a crew member saved him and took him to a hospital in Havana, Cuba. But his wife and kids weren’t allowed to go with him. 

A committee of passengers, including Zellner’s father, Max, worked with U.S.-based Jewish organizations to try to convince the Cuban government to let more passengers in. Their plea wasn’t successful.

Over the next 10 days, the St. Louis remained in the Atlantic Ocean, the fate of the passengers in limbo. Some of them cabled President Franklin D. Roosevelt asking for refuge. He never responded. They received only a telegram from the State Department saying they wouldn’t be allowed in at that time.

After more than three weeks at sea, the St. Louis re-routed to Antwerp, Belgium. Jewish organizations had negotiated with four European governments to take in the passengers. Nearly 300 of them were among the luckiest ones, including the Zellners. They went to Great Britain, and all but one of them survived the war. The rest were divided up among the Netherlands, Belgium, and France. 

Each of these nations was later invaded by Germany. More than 250 of the St. Louis passengers were killed in the Holocaust.

Looking back, it might seem rather unfathomable that the U.S. wouldn’t let in the passengers of the St. Louis.

Americans weren’t oblivious to the horrors Jews faced across the Atlantic. The plight of the St. Louis was on the front page of The New York Times. And though nobody predicted just how bad things would get, American newspapers frequently reported on Germany’s persecution of Jews. In 1938, a front-page article in the Los Angeles Examiner even read: “Nazis Warn World Jews Will Be Wiped Out Unless Evacuated by Democracies.”

So then why didn’t the U.S. open its ports to the St. Louis?

After World War I, America took an isolationist stance on world affairs; it wouldn’t enter World War II until after Japan attacked Pearl Harbor in 1941.

The U.S. also didn’t have a refugee policy at the time, and it placed strict quotas on the number of immigrants it allowed from each country. For Germany, the limit was about 25,000 a year. Because the U.S. didn’t differentiate between refugees—people escaping war or persecution at home—and immigrants simply seeking a better life, everyone was grouped on the same waiting lists. As a result, it could take years to gain entry.

From 1933 to 1940, the U.S. accepted about 90,000 German Jews—more than any other country. However, thousands more applied to immigrate but weren’t allowed in.  

Looking back, it might seem hard to believe that the U.S. wouldn’t let in the passengers of the St. Louis.

Americans weren’t unaware of the horrors Jews faced across the Atlantic. The plight of the St. Louis was on the front page of The New York Times. Nobody predicted just how bad things would get. Still, American newspapers frequently reported on Germany’s persecution of Jews. In 1938, a front-page article in the Los Angeles Examiner even read: “Nazis Warn World Jews Will Be Wiped Out Unless Evacuated by Democracies.”

So then why didn’t the U.S. open its ports to the St. Louis?

After World War I, America took an isolationist stance on world affairs. The nation wouldn’t enter World War II until after Japan attacked Pearl Harbor in 1941. 

The U.S. also didn’t have a refugee policy at the time. The U.S. placed strict quotas on the number of immigrants it allowed from each country. For Germany, the limit was about 25,000 a year. The U.S. also didn’t differentiate between refugees—people escaping war or persecution at home—and immigrants simply seeking a better life. So everyone was grouped on the same waiting lists. As a result, it could take years to gain entry.

From 1933 to 1940, the U.S. accepted about 90,000 German Jews. That was more than any other country. However, thousands more applied to immigrate but weren’t allowed in.

A few months before the St. Louis set sail, two senators introduced a bill in Congress that would have let 20,000 German Jewish children above the quota come to the U.S. But it failed to pass.

Popular sentiment put pressure on President Roosevelt and Congress not to take in more refugees. In a 1939 poll, only 30 percent of Americans supported letting more Jewish refugee children come to the U.S. Historians say the Great Depression, which lasted from 1929 until the late 1930s, inflamed deep-seated anti-Semitism and xenophobia in the U.S.

“You have this rhetoric that we can’t take new immigrants because there aren’t enough jobs for Americans who are living here,” says Greene of the Holocaust Memorial Museum. “And some even stronger anti-immigrant voices in America at the time blamed the immigrants for the bad economy.”

Many Americans also feared that Nazi spies were hiding among Jewish refugees, a concern experts now say was overblown.

A few months before the St. Louis set sail, two senators introduced a bill in Congress that would have let 20,000 German Jewish children above the quota come to the U.S. But the bill failed to pass.

Popular sentiment put pressure on President Roosevelt and Congress not to take in more refugees. In a 1939 poll, only 30 percent of Americans supported letting more Jewish refugee children come to the U.S. Historians say the Great Depression, which lasted from 1929 until the late 1930s, fueled deep-seated anti-Semitism and xenophobia in the U.S.

“You have this rhetoric that we can’t take new immigrants because there aren’t enough jobs for Americans who are living here,” says Greene of the Holocaust Memorial Museum. “And some even stronger anti-immigrant voices in America at the time blamed the immigrants for the bad economy.”

Many Americans also feared that Nazi spies were hiding among Jewish refugees. That’s a concern that experts now say was overblown.

After the war, the U.S. and many other nations responded to their failures in helping more Jews escape the Nazis by creating new policies to protect refugees. Today, under the Refugee Act of 1980, the U.S. president has the authority to set the maximum number of refugees to let into the country each year, separate from the number of other immigrants.

Since World War II, no country has accepted more refugees than the U.S. And 68 percent of Americans think that our openness to people from all over the world is essential to who we are as a nation, according to a 2018 survey by Pew Research Center.

However, Americans once again are at odds over how best to deal with immigration issues. The world faces its largest migrant crisis since the Second World War (see “In Search of a Home”), and thousands of Central Americans have streamed across the U.S. border from Mexico seeking asylum.  

Greene cautions against drawing too close a comparison between the U.S. today and during the 1930s when it comes to immigration. But he does see similarities.

“There’s a lot of disagreement among Americans today about their responsibilities to refugees and immigrants, and that debate was going on in the 1930s,” he says. “And I think understanding some of the failures of the past might help inform the present.”

After the war, the U.S. and many other nations responded to their failure to help more Jews escape the Nazis by creating new policies to protect refugees. Today, under the Refugee Act of 1980, the U.S. president has the authority to set the maximum number of refugees to let into the country each year. And that quota is now separate from the number of other immigrants.

Since World War II, no country has accepted more refugees than the U.S. And 68 percent of Americans think that our openness to people from all over the world is essential to who we are as a nation, according to a 2018 survey by Pew Research Center.

However, Americans once again are at odds over how best to deal with immigration issues. The world faces its largest migrant crisis since the Second World War (see “In Search of a Home”). Thousands of Central Americans have also streamed across the U.S. border from Mexico seeking asylum.

Greene cautions against drawing too close a comparison between the U.S. today and during the 1930s when it comes to immigration. But he does see similarities.

“There’s a lot of disagreement among Americans today about their responsibilities to refugees and immigrants, and that debate was going on in the 1930s,” he says. “And I think understanding some of the failures of the past might help inform the present.”