Friday, August 28, 2009

By Simon Wiesenthal and Harry James Cargas
  • This revised edition was issued in honor of the twentieth anniversary of its publication. It is divided into two sections: an extraordinary request to Simon for forgiveness by a dying 21 old SS man and the 53 responses (ten from the original volume) from prominent theologians, political leaders, writers, jurists, psychiatrists, human rights activists, Holocaust survivors, and victims of attempted genocides in Bosnia, Cambodia, China, and Tibet. Their answers reflect the teachings of their diverse beliefs - Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, secular, and agnostic - and remind us that Wiesenthal's question is not limited to events of the past. Certainly there are fundamental lessons that are as essential today as they were 60 years ago.

    Who can forgive crimes committed against others asks Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, one of the most significant Jewish theologians of the 20th century.

    Are there any similarities between the national guilt faced by the German people for the Holocaust and ours for the institution of slavery and the genocide of Native Americans wonders Martin E. Marty, religious scholar and Lutheran Pastor.

    Are followers in committing atrocities as guilty as their leaders inquires Dith Pran, photographer and subject of the film, "The Killing Fields," about Cambodian genocide.

    Is silence its own answer if we could but learn to listen to it? Are there questions that are unanswerable queries of the soul, matters too awe-full for human response, too demonic for profound rational resolution poses Hubert Locke, Dean Emeritus, Evans School of Public Policy, University of Washington

    By not forgiving do we somehow remain victims wonders Harold Kushner, Rabbi and best-selling author.

    One day as part of a detail working at a hospital, Simon it taken by a nurse to see a dying young SS officer named Karl Seidl, who wants forgiveness and absolution from a Jew for the terrible things he had done, in particular an incident in which he murdered 150 Jewish men, women and children who were herded into a small house that was set on fire and when those trying to escape or jump to safety were all shot. Simon has no answer and leaves. He refuses a package of clothing the officer wants him to have telling her to ship it to the deceased's mother.

    During the next two years, Wiesenthal shared this story with fellow camp mates, ending each time with: Was my silence at the bedside of the dying Nazi right or wrong?

    After the war, Simon visits the officer's mother living in a bombed-out apartment in Stuttgart. All she has left are the memories of her "good son." Wiesenthal wrestles with whether he should tell her the truth about her son, but leaves saying nothing about the atrocities he took part in. She is allowed to keep her memories.

    Simon addresses the reader with this critical question: "You, who have just read this sad and tragic episode in my life, can mentally change places with me and ask yourself the crucial question, 'What would I have done?'"

    Simon Wiesehthal died on September 21, 2005 at the age of 96. He and his wife Cyla lost 89 relatives during the Holocaust. Simon helped to bring more than 1100 war criminals to justice, including Eichmann, Stangl, and the Nazi who took Anne Frank from her home and sent her to her death. He has been honored with numerous awards for his work, including "Commander of the Order of Orange" in the Netherlands, "Commendatore della Repubblica" in Italy, a gold medal for humanitarian work by the United States Congress, the Jerusalem Medal in Israel, and sixteen honorary doctorates. The Simon Wiesenthal Center, located in Los Angeles, is named in honor of him.

    The Sunflower will force you to think deeply about issues we rarely discuss but which are essential to building and maintaining relationships, with each other and with ourselves.

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