I think it inconsistent to, on one hand, press the argument that the holocaust was something so terrible that we must never forget it lest it happen again, and then say, oh but the people who carried it out who are still alive might as well just be allowed to live their lives in peace as if they did nothing wrong. Wiesenthal was being consistent.
Jerry,
The question isn’t whether he was being consistent. The question is whether such hunting is a logical necessity of remembrance, or rather “not forgetting”. Should we perhaps, once all these Nazis have died, then once a year sacrifice one of their offspring in a World Wide Remembrance Ceremony (WWRC), that can be somberly televised? Or perhaps a German citizen chosen by lot?
Dunamis
The question is exactly one of whether he was being consistent. “Not forgetting” of what? Something horrendous. Something positively evil. Something, in other words, that no man who had a part in its production should be allowed off the hook for. What does it say about humanity if we ignore the evil doers? Does it not sanction the evil?
Jerry,
It is a question of degree. Does the Dalai Lama ignore the perpetrators of atrocities against the very people he is said to represent when he urges everyone to forgive them? Does he forget his people? Or has he remembered them in remarkable way?
And if the imperative is to make sure deaths are not forgotten, let’s immediately begin my remembrance of the Holocaust policy of human sacrifice of either offspring or citizens, that could ensure that those Jewish deaths are not forgotten.
Dunamis
I think Wiesenthal was, in his way, being consistent, his Nazi hunting being an extension of his deep desire to never let the world forget. Another man perhaps, in the same situation, having lost 89 family members to the ovens, having survived a dozen concentration camps, weighing less than 100 pounds upon liberation, who would decide to keep the memory alive by forgiving his torturers, would be consistent in his way.
I’m not going to pass judgement on which way is right, if such a thing as “right” can even be claimed here, any more than I would claim to know which way would be mine, given the same circumstances.
Jerry,
I think Wiesenthal was, in his way, being consistent
Again. The issue is not whether he was being consistent. He could go around all day yelling “I hate Nazis” and be consistent. The question is whether hunting Nazis was a logical consequence of Remembrance. If so, then is the Dalai Lama’s urge to forgive, illogical or forgetful? Was Nelson Mandela’s forgiveness offered after 27 years of prison inconsistent somehow?
Dunamis
And - again - it is a question of his consistency, for it was his belief in the evil horror of the Holocaust that led to two things, one the idea that it should never be forgotten and two, the perpetrators should not go unpunished. I am guessing these two results came about simultaneously and were so hand-in-glove as to be for all intents and purposes one and the same result. The idea of remembering the horrors was inseparable from the idea of punishing the ones responsible for the horrors. So, yes, the idea of hunting the Nazis was a logical consequence - to Wiesenthal’s mind, I am imagining - of Remembrance. Would another logical result be forgiveness and allowing the criminals to live free? Probably so. Was it Wiesenthal’s? No. Would it be mine? I can’t answer.
Jerry,
And - again - it is a question of his consistency, for it was his belief in the evil horror of the Holocaust that led to two things, one the idea that it should never be forgotten and two, the perpetrators should not go unpunished.
Well, if this is his principle in living, he certainly failed at his endeavor in the hospital room. For although he did not forgive the SS Officer, he certainly did not seem to “punish” him.
If consistency can be the application of whatever you believe, then of course Hitler too can be considered a rather consistent man. But what in the hell does that mean? Don’t we all wish he was a bit less consistent?
Dunamis
It is almost an impossible question to answer considering most of us have never felt the level of pain, frustration, or disdain towards a human who could do such a thing. I want to say that I could show forgiveness in any situation, but from what I have read, to have experienced these atrocities would forever change you. I may have walked out of the room.
I’m starting to lose sight of whatever point it is you are trying to make. Probably a failure in my own way of thinking.
Look, I have stated that Simon Wiesenthal’s major interest was in making certain that the Holocaust would never be forgotten. I am imagining that part and parcel of this interest was a simultaneous belief that the Nazi perpetrators should be brought to justice. I am guessing that his thinking was something along the lines of, it would be wrong to say, “Hey, the Holocaust was terrible. But - not so terrible that we should give the people who engineered it a hard time.”
I am not justifying this belief. Nor am I arguing against it.
I will say this. Those who would claim to know what their own thinking would be, either in that hospital room, or for that matter with respect to how they would live the balance of their lives, given the circumstances that Wiesenthal faced, are either naive or dishonest.
We can sit here, you and me, at the comfort of our own desks (it’s after 6:00 here so I have just popped open a cold beer) and say, “Well, you know, if it was ME, I would’ve been more like the Dalai Lama. Yep. I would have taken the high road and forgiven the man and, furthermore, I would have forgiven all of the living Nazis after being liberated from my concentration camp.” We can sit here and say that.
But what the hell does that mean?
Jerry,
My point is simple. Your contention that Simon Wiesenthal was consistent is empty because Hilter was consistent. I sensed a kind of rhetorical move there in saying that hunting Nazis was a “logical extension”, as if the pure force of logic imposes such an act, that “logical extension” became “consistency” to me was even a further perpetuation of this morally empty category. Consistency to, and logical extension of, ethically flawed principles are not virtues in their own right.
I provide the examples of the Dalai Lama and Nelson Mandela not to say that I would act like them, but to point out that forgiveness is a viable ethical and political option after extensive suffering both to yourself and your “people”. Just because there was tremendous suffering does not mean that vengeance or punishment is necessarily part of remembrance.
I post these things because in his passing one of course can say, “There goes a remarkable man of great human endeavor”, or one might say, “There goes someone who did his best not to forgive and who without realizing it perpetuated the violence that he suffered.”
Both options are available.
Dunamis
Nor did I claim them to be, Dunamis. I have not made a judgement as to the morality of Wiesenthal’s position either way. That, in fact, is rather my point. I don’t see how I can, fairly. But I can attempt to understand it. And in one’s understanding, one can’t help, at least it seems to me, to sympathize with it.
What is the correct position ethically? That’s a huge question and maybe, depending on one’s most fundamental philosophical beliefs, one that cannot even be answered. We could think pragmatically, I suppose. Would his goal of Remembrance have been more, or less, served had his actions been actions of forgiveness and not justice? I don’t know, but I suspect less served.
Jerry,
That, in fact, is rather my point. I don’t see how I can, fairly.
Do you feel that you can ethically judge others, and not Simon Wiesenthal, or rather that you cannot ethcally judge anyone?
Dunamis
I don’t know, Dunamis.
What does it mean to “ethically judge†someone? I form opinions. I think the Holocaust was wrong, for example. Does that mean I ethically judge Hitler? I guess so. I don’t know. Are there absolutes to ethics? I have my opinions about the matter, but I know they are nothing more than that. The Holocaust was, in my opinion, based on my worldview, and my ideas of what I think might be consistent with God’s will, wrong and I do not understand it. That is opinion. Maybe it is an ethical judgment. Could be. You tell me.
My opinion of Wiesenthal’s actions? Obviously less clear. I can say this much: I understand his actions.
In sum: I understand the desire of a man, who lost 89 family members to the ovens of the Holocaust, and who personally went through Hell on earth in the concentration camps of Nazi Germany, to want to, first and foremost, make certain the world never forgets and, secondly, to want to make those responsible accountable for their actions.
I do not understand the desire of a man to want to systematically murder more than 6 million people.
We all have our opinions. How do we escape that? And should we?
If those are ethical judgments, then we are all judges.
Jerry,
Well let me ask you, because I am interested in your opinion. While you might understand someone how acted as Simon did and continued to do, do you think that “remembering a wrong done” is one of the better things a human should strive for?
Dunamis
Depends, I would say, on the goal. If remembering a wrong done is a means by which to help avert future wrongs, then, yes, I would say so. I would say that would be a worthwhile striving. Simon may have understood on some level that that was his part to play, that was his striving. That may not be yours. That may not be mine. But that might have been his, and he embraced it.
Jerry,
If remembering a wrong done is a means by which to help avert future wrongs, then, yes, I would say so.
I have heard this reasonable pragmatic preventionism used before. But I wonder what it is that is really being prevented. Since The Holocaust, holocausts have happened regularly all over the planet, with very little Holocaust-awareness or response. The prevention that more rather strikes me is the prevention of this happening to Jews - and also the structuring of a people’s identity around this Remembrance/Prevention. If this was a single person who had organized his identity around his remembrance of wrongs done and the ever-warding-off of the “next one”, I am unsure if I would be looking at someone I would like to be. There seems something incredible insular about this kind of remembrance, and something terribly unhealed.
Dunamis
You’re looking at the results from hindsight, a luxury Simon didn’t have. Probably, to his way of thinking, he had only one thing to offer - the resolve to keep the memory alive. He could offer that one thing, or he could keep that one thing hidden. He made his choice. I respect it.
Jerry,
You’re looking at the results from hindsight, a luxury Simon didn’t have.
I respect his decision. But I believe that Simon did have the “luxury” of a moment that would decide much of the tenor of his life. I really do wonder if he had made the simple gesture, the simple superiority-to-his-conditions move to forgive the man, he may have added more to the world than the Remembrance of a wrong, something he no doubt came to feel was the most important thing in his life.
When the Dalai Lama questioned a Tibetan monk who had been imprisoned for 18 years by the Chinese, until he finally escaped, he asked him what was the greatest danger in prison. Expecting some physical danger he was surprised to hear: “losing compassion for the Chinese”.
Dunamis
We’ll never know. I think we can respect Simon’s decision, though, while at the same time respecting your Tibetan monk’s point of view.
Did the moment decide his life? Or was his life set by his circumstances and the moment a foregone conclusion?
It’s all speculation, as is the question of what we would do given the same situation. Would we act as Simon? Would we act as the Tibetan monk? Is one way right? Are both? At the least we can say that each is at some level understandable, yes?
The question was worthy of a book and I’m glad Simon wrote it. It seems clear, just by his writing the book, that he himself must have felt some confusion over the issue. Probably even until his death this past week. For your side of the argument, we can probably guess that no Tibetan monk would write a book asking if he should have tried harder to lose compassion for his imprisoners.
At any rate, the question seemed a worthy one to me and deserving of some space on a philosophy message board.