Holocaust Survivors, Heirs Fight On for Compensation

Some German officials had worried that making the records public would lead to a new flood of compensation claims against the government. But under pressure from researchers and Holocaust survivors, Germany last year agreed to open the archives, which are overseen by an 11-nation consortium and the International Committee of the Red Cross.

Since then, the German government has tried to resolve another Holocaust-era dispute by agreeing to pay $140 million to former residents of Jewish ghettos who were forced by the Nazis to work for negligible wages.

Germany had passed a law in 2002 granting monthly pensions to the so-called ghetto workers. But of the 70,000 people who applied for the benefits, more than 85 percent were rejected, often because they lacked documentation of forced employment. (The program is separate from a $6 billion fund established in 2000 to compensate 1.7 million slave laborers conscripted by the Nazis and forced to work for no pay at all).

After prodding from the Jewish Claims Conference and Israeli and U.S. officials, the German government agreed in September to pay a one-time sum of $2,800 to about 50,000 people who had been denied the benefits. German officials described the payment as a "humanitarian gesture," insisting that it should not be seen as compensation for forced labor.

But critics, including some German lawmakers, accused the government of being stingy and still not doing enough. "It was very hard work to force the government to recognize this was a problem," said Renate Kuenast, a leader of the Green Party. Her party has sponsored legislation that would guarantee a minimum $200 monthly pension to ghetto workers, payable for life.

The German Finance Ministry, which oversees the program, declined requests for an interview.

One of the thorniest and longest-running disputes over Jewish property is playing out in Teltow, a Berlin suburb.

Until the 1930s, about 200 acres of farmland in the center of town were owned by Max and Albert Sabersky, prominent Jewish developers and businessmen. The Sabersky brothers had owned the land since 1872, but sold it after Hitler came to power in 1933. The heirs say the Sabersky brothers sold their land for half its market value; on top of that, a Nazi broker forced them to pay commissions reaching 50 percent.

After Teltow and the rest of East Germany broke with communism in 1990, the Saberskys' heirs filed claims to retrieve the property, arguing that the brothers had been forced to sell by the Nazis. By then, the land was home to about 1,500 people and worth an estimated $100 million.

The heirs won back a handful of acres. But German authorities denied the bulk of their claim, ruling in 1996 that the brothers hadn't sold the property under duress. As evidence, they cited a statement from a former Nazi official involved in the sales, who insisted that the Jewish family hadn't been persecuted.

The decision outraged the Sabersky heirs, including Sonnenthal, the former SEC lawyer. As the only descendants of Albert Sabersky, he and his sister stand to gain half the recovered property. They have appealed the decision through a maze of German courts in a fight that has stretched on for 16 years.

"Teltow has to be held accountable. It's a question of principle," said Sonnenthal, who moved to Germany in 2002 to fight his case full time. "They're simply attempting to profit from the crimes committed by the former Nazi administration."

After years of failed appeals, the Sonnenthals won a major decision from Germany's highest administrative court in 2003 that appeared to open the way for an overall settlement in favor of the heirs. But the city of Teltow has sought to block the transfer of several key parcels, reviving old arguments that the Sabersky brothers sold the property willingly. The case is scheduled to go back to court in December.

Richard Martin, a Teltow resident and member of a citizens' group that has challenged the Sonnenthals' claim, said he and his neighbors have been unfairly portrayed as Nazi sympathizers for fighting to keep the property in local hands.

"I have the feeling that we cannot know, really, what happened back then," said Martin, who stressed that he was speaking for himself and not on behalf of the citizens' group. "Mr. Sonnenthal says this property has been stolen from him. I cannot really deny that and say no, it hasn't been. But it is not a black-and-white case, either."