Boris Cyrulnik: "I was sentenced to death when I was 6 and a half years old."

BarcelonaNobody knows where it is Boris Cyrulnik and there are only two hours left until, in theory, it offers a masterclass at CosmoCaixa in Barcelona. The renowned neurologist, neuropsychiatrist, and writer—who is about to turn 88—went for a walk after breakfast without picking up his cell phone. Every minute that passes grows uneasy among the EDAI organization, a leading entity in neurodevelopment and child and adolescent mental health, which has invited the author to participate in the fourth edition of the international congress they organize. Cyrulnik has pioneered the use of the term resilience applied to psychology: he himself had to put that capacity to resist and cope with traumatic situations to the test from a very young age. Born in Bordeaux in 1937, the son of a Jewish family originally from Poland, Cyrulnik lost his parents – both deported to the Auschwitz concentration camp – and had to flee from the Nazis and hide for almost three years, until the Second World War ended and his life ceased.

Author of around forty books, Cyrulnik's work has been unpublished in Catalan until now, when his most emblematic essay, The ugly ducklings (Eumo; translated by Georgina Solà), which has sold more than 500,000 copies in French alone. "A central element of resilience in Cyrulnik's work is hope, understood as the ability to imagine a better future and not remain anchored in the anguish of the present," writes Leticia Asenjo in the volume's prologue. "It does not imply denying pain, but rather integrating it within a broader narrative that includes the possibility of a secure bond: when the child or adult has someone to hold them, to remind them that the next day may be different and that there are people willing to help them."

Cyrulnik, who has finally been located upon his return to the hotel, arrives at CosmoCaixa an hour before his intervention and agrees to be interviewed.

Published The ugly ducklings in French in 2001, at the age of 64. When most professionals are thinking about retirement, you began to enjoy great publishing success, and since then you have not stopped publishing. Why do you think that The ugly ducklings did it work that much?

— Because it was the end of my journey; I showed readers that attachment theory characterizes all living beings, whether people, animals, or plants. I have specialized in the consequences of a lack of attachment in children. They were forced to work long hours in factories—they could reach 14 hours. More than 200,000 children ended up in places where no one spoke to them or played with them. They had two of the prefrontal lobes of the brain atrophied, as well as part of the limbic system. They had both their ability to anticipate and their memory damaged.

How did they solve the problem?

— What all these children lacked was an emotional substitute. We tested them by placing them with educators who fulfilled this role. Within days, the test results changed and the atrophy disappeared. This is the definition of resilience. Once the child found someone who played a role similar to the mother's, they could overcome the trauma of not being with her. Without contact with others, neither babies nor children can develop. But this happens with all living beings, as I have studied.

Even with plants, he said.

— Yes. A plant or a tree alone doesn't thrive as well as if it's accompanied. The same thing happens to animals. Just think of the dogs that spend their days waiting for their owner to return behind the front door. Others are essential for a good life. After the lockdown due to Covid-19, many older adults and many teenagers have suffered from depression, and the causes of both problems are related to isolation. Right now, in France, the rate of depression among young people is close to 40%.

I was talking earlier about how The ugly ducklings It was, at that point, the end of his journey. The first years of his life were decisive and very complicated, weren't they?

— I grew up in the midst of World War II. Before losing my parents and having to flee the Nazis, I hadn't gone to school. This fact led me to think, later on, that the foundation of a neurologically stimulated brain is not only education, but above all, affection.

All this allows him to affirm that the brain is "a social organ."

— Exactly! If a child has a good family with a stable partner, a school, a pleasant neighborhood, and a nurturing culture around them, they will develop well. This is currently the case for 70% of children in countries like France and Spain. In places where there is war or political and social instability, 40% of children grow up without this essential affection.

How did you overcome the lack of affection? Your parents were deported to Auschwitz when you were 5 years old.

— First they killed my family. Then they sentenced me to death when I was 6 and a half years old. Trying to understand these two ideas obsessed me for a long time. When they locked me in the synagogue the Nazis had converted into a prison and I was waiting to be taken by train to the concentration camp, where I was to die in the gas chamber, I decided to escape. And I did. This was my great victory.

In Je me souviens... (I remember; Gedisa, 2010) explains that during the days he spent locked in the synagogue he never stopped smiling or joking.

— Humor saved my life. When I fled, I was lucky to find a series of good Christians who protected me throughout the war. They gave me the love I needed at that time. If it hadn't been for them, my brain would have atrophied like that of the Romanian children. Later, I realized that the culprits for all those deaths—those near and far—weren't the Germans, but society, which had gone mad. Right now, we see this madness in places like Ukraine and Gaza.

This should be of particular concern to you.

— It's terrible to witness a part of the world going crazy again, like it did when I was a child. I mentioned what's happening in Ukraine and Gaza, but I could also talk about Lebanon, Yemen, Burma, or Sudan, where things are worse than in Gaza, but unfortunately, no one is saying anything. Right now, there are 50 countries at war around the world. There are only two that concern us.

The ugly ducklings It refers us to one of the best-known stories of Hans Christian Andersen.

— I felt completely identified with the ugly duckling. Since I had been left without a family, I was considered a child inferior to others. Later, when I told my friends I wanted to study, they laughed at me. Most of them already had jobs in factories or mines. One of them worked as a plasterer and was doing very well: when you're young, you admire people who run faster than you. We were 13 when he told me that studying was shameful, that it was for girls and homosexuals. I clung to my Latin, history, and math lessons. It was a privilege then. After the war, I bounced from institution to institution. Some were good to me, but others mistreated me. They forbade us from reading. I remember managing to steal a flashlight. At night, in a dormitory I shared with about 100 other boys, I would cover myself with the quilt and read whatever was in my hands until it was 2:00 a.m. I had to hide because otherwise I would have been punished. A teacher once hit me for reading after school. In three generations, culture has improved incredibly! It's happened in many places: in France, of course, but also in your country.

You have said on more than one occasion that reading is an act of freedom.

— Yes. Because books teach us to doubt. And if we doubt, it means we can choose, that is, we are relatively free. At the same time, the ability to choose causes some people a certain anxiety, because choosing implies a responsibility. Totalitarian language exploits them. Just listen to Putin, Netanyahu, or Hamas. I support the Palestinian cause. That's precisely why I'm against Hamas, a sect as far-right as Netanyahu. Hamas is funded by Iran. In Netanyahu, it's Trump's America.

Your biographies still emphasize your connection to psychoanalysis. How important was it for you?

— There is a part of psychoanalysis that was. The studies of René Spitz (1887–1974), for example, influenced me. The British Psychoanalytic Society, who made fundamental contributions to attachment theory, was in fashion.

You did not align yourself with him.

— No. But over the years, I realize that it was my marginal status that allowed me to pursue my own path, outside of academia. I ended up becoming an associate professor and supervising theses, but always from a neurological and neuroscience perspective, disregarding orthodox psychoanalysis. On the other hand, Freud's disciples would have vetoed him.

His latest book has just appeared in France: When where tumbe amoureux, where se releve attaché [When you fall in love, your affection grows, 2025]. He continues traveling to give lectures like today's...

— And I still teach. At the University of Toulon and the University of Mons. The first is in France. The second is in Belgium. I also try to go wherever I'm invited.

Why doesn't he retire? He's almost 90.

— Teaching gives meaning to my life. Being able to teach those who will become the new psychologists, psychiatrists, and psychoanalysts, who are much less sectarian than in my time, is a pleasure.

During the Second World War, he watched ants because they taught him important lessons. He hasn't lost his curiosity, has he?

— Not at all. Observing them helped me understand that an ant alone is lost, but that an ant inside an anthill has a specific goal and can build something. Watching how the ants carried food, transported eggs, or cleaned the nest, I realized the great importance of living in society. Even now, I let that message guide me.