Good Night to the Scourge of Evil

Simon Wiesenthal died yesterday.


He's become pretty well known over the years, and even though he was 96 years old, his name still showed up in the news from time to time; the Wiesenthal Center issues statements periodically about hate crimes or controversial events like "The Passion of the Christ".

Mr. Wiesenthal was most famous as a Nazi hunter, of course, a man who sought justice for crimes after the fact. On the other hand, the Wiesenthal Center sponsored the construction of the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles a number of years ago, one of many attempts to prevent violent hatred. So the man's life eventually came to represent a good balance between punishing evil and encouraging virtue.


Obituaries today focus on activities like his contribution to Adolf Eichmann's capture, his unfortunately unsuccessful attempts to capture Josef Mengele, even his principled refusal to accuse Kurt Waldheim of atrocities he didn't commit. (Turns out Mr. Waldheim was guilty of nothing more than denying Austria's role in the Holocaust - bad enough as far as it goes, but not an atrocity.)

I have not, however, found any mention yet of Mr. Wiesenthal's book "The Sunflower." This is a shame, because that book gets right to the heart of the man's whole life.


It tells the story of Wiesenthal's encounter with a wounded Nazi officer at a time when Wiesenthal himself was still in a concentration camp. The officer, badly burned and dying, ordered a hospital staffer to bring him a Jewish prisoner. Wiesenthal, chosen at random, heard this officer weepingly confess to participating in a massacre of Jewish civilians. The officer wanted forgiveness from some Jew, any Jew, before he died. Wiesenthal silently got up and left.

Many years later, Wiesenthal asked philosophers and theologians of all stripes whether he should have forgiven the Nazi. "The Sunflower" is his account of the original incident and the responses he received to his question.

Some have expressed skepticism as to whether the incident really occurred or not, but the point remains the same; How far does human forgiveness reach?

There are those who insisted that Wiesenthal's inability to forgive the Nazis was a serious character flaw. I say, with most Jews I know, that there are certain things that human beings simply cannot be permitted to get away with. Mr. Wiesenthal taught us that.

Benshlomo says, Rest in peace, Simon - we'll take it from here.