Jessica
01-27-2005, 02:46 PM
I thought this column was well-written and sobering.
>
>
> washingtonpost.com
> Evil Too Great to Grasp -- or Remember
>
> By Richard Cohen
>
> Thursday, January 27, 2005; Page A19
>
>
> Not long ago, Prince Harry -- an accident away from the British throne
> -- showed up at a costume party dressed as a Nazi. We know this
> because someone took a picture that made it into the English tabloids
> -- a diversion for a day or two before the papers returned to more
> serious matters such as the sexual affairs of Cabinet ministers. But
> they should have stuck with the Harry story. The dim prince is truly a
> child of the new century. Nothing that happened in the past century
> seems to have affected him at all.
>
> Today is the 60th anniversary of the last century's most searing
> event, the liberation of Auschwitz. It was appropriately marked at the
> United Nations earlier in the week, but most people in most places
> took no heed, and even if they did, they may not have known what to
> make of it. I understand. The enormity of Auschwitz, let alone the
> Holocaust, is such that the human brain can scarcely contain it. Even
> to let Auschwitz in is to let God out.
>
> For some time now Auschwitz has been slipping away from us, officially
> remembered, unofficially neglected. Accounts of it -- books, films --
> are met with jaded boredom: We know, we know. In the infantile
> imagination of Harry, prince of the realm, the Nazi uniform summoned
> up not an ounce of revulsion, not a touch of the creeps, as if the
> Holocaust, like Vlad the Impaler, has been transformed from
> incomprehensible evil to comic book camp. It may be hard to deal with
> it any other way.
>
> Auschwitz is never far from my mind. I have been to the place and read
> its literature. But even if I hadn't, even if I knew it just as a
> place where more than 1 million Jews and others were murdered, it
> would still intrude at one of those treacly moments when someone
> mentions the goodness of mankind or the benevolence of God. It has
> been this way with me since childhood, when, over and over again, I
> asked the rabbis in religious school: Why? How? Explain! They could not.
>
> You saw some of this questioning in the aftermath of the recent
> catastrophic tsunami. Some writers tried to grapple with its
> theological implications: How could He? The children. The infants.
> What sort of God is this? But the questions will fade as the tragedy
> works its way toward the back of the newspaper and ultimately falls
> off the page. It will become something that just happened. Besides, it
> was impenetrably scientific, something geological, about volcanic
> pressures and tectonic plates -- and breathtakingly swift, to boot.
> Maybe God had just turned His back.
>
> The Holocaust, in contrast, was not an instantaneous event. It lasted
> years. It consumed about 6 million, 10 million, who knows how many
> million people, Jews and non-Jews, but 1 million Jewish children --
> infants, too. This had nothing to do with oceans and lava and tectonic
> plates and stuff only scientists could really understand. Auschwitz
> was the diligent work of man, a constellation of camps and factories,
> all of it worked by slaves, all of them marked for death. Auschwitz
> was essentially about murder, about what people did to people. A human
> being could go from physician or musician or mother or child to ash in
> the course of a couple of hours. Geology had nothing to do with it.
> The mysteries are not scientific. They are theological.
>
> Here is my fear. Because we cannot understand Auschwitz, because it is
> an immense bump in the road in our belief in a good God -- "a just
> God," the president said in his inaugural address -- we will let it
> slip from memory, remembered maybe like some statue in the town square
> that memorializes something or other, maybe a war, maybe a man.
> Reminders will seem like nagging, and when the survivors are finally
> gone (they have been an incredibly hardy lot) so, too, will be the
> obligation to remember. Ah, what a relief!
>
> Then, bit by bit, Auschwitz will fade, becoming something that
> happened in the last century to people who some may insist had it
> coming anyway -- Jews and commies and Gypsies and homosexuals . . .
> mostly. For most people, it may become -- it is already becoming --
> too dense a historic burden, a hideously heavy truth about who we can
> be, not just who we would like to be. Prince Harry just chucked it
> all. Someday, I fear, so shall we all and then -- as it has in Rwanda
> and at Srebrenica -- it will happen again.
>
> And again.
>
> cohenr@washpost.com
>
>
>
> © 2005 The Washington Post Company
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> washingtonpost.com
> Evil Too Great to Grasp -- or Remember
>
> By Richard Cohen
>
> Thursday, January 27, 2005; Page A19
>
>
> Not long ago, Prince Harry -- an accident away from the British throne
> -- showed up at a costume party dressed as a Nazi. We know this
> because someone took a picture that made it into the English tabloids
> -- a diversion for a day or two before the papers returned to more
> serious matters such as the sexual affairs of Cabinet ministers. But
> they should have stuck with the Harry story. The dim prince is truly a
> child of the new century. Nothing that happened in the past century
> seems to have affected him at all.
>
> Today is the 60th anniversary of the last century's most searing
> event, the liberation of Auschwitz. It was appropriately marked at the
> United Nations earlier in the week, but most people in most places
> took no heed, and even if they did, they may not have known what to
> make of it. I understand. The enormity of Auschwitz, let alone the
> Holocaust, is such that the human brain can scarcely contain it. Even
> to let Auschwitz in is to let God out.
>
> For some time now Auschwitz has been slipping away from us, officially
> remembered, unofficially neglected. Accounts of it -- books, films --
> are met with jaded boredom: We know, we know. In the infantile
> imagination of Harry, prince of the realm, the Nazi uniform summoned
> up not an ounce of revulsion, not a touch of the creeps, as if the
> Holocaust, like Vlad the Impaler, has been transformed from
> incomprehensible evil to comic book camp. It may be hard to deal with
> it any other way.
>
> Auschwitz is never far from my mind. I have been to the place and read
> its literature. But even if I hadn't, even if I knew it just as a
> place where more than 1 million Jews and others were murdered, it
> would still intrude at one of those treacly moments when someone
> mentions the goodness of mankind or the benevolence of God. It has
> been this way with me since childhood, when, over and over again, I
> asked the rabbis in religious school: Why? How? Explain! They could not.
>
> You saw some of this questioning in the aftermath of the recent
> catastrophic tsunami. Some writers tried to grapple with its
> theological implications: How could He? The children. The infants.
> What sort of God is this? But the questions will fade as the tragedy
> works its way toward the back of the newspaper and ultimately falls
> off the page. It will become something that just happened. Besides, it
> was impenetrably scientific, something geological, about volcanic
> pressures and tectonic plates -- and breathtakingly swift, to boot.
> Maybe God had just turned His back.
>
> The Holocaust, in contrast, was not an instantaneous event. It lasted
> years. It consumed about 6 million, 10 million, who knows how many
> million people, Jews and non-Jews, but 1 million Jewish children --
> infants, too. This had nothing to do with oceans and lava and tectonic
> plates and stuff only scientists could really understand. Auschwitz
> was the diligent work of man, a constellation of camps and factories,
> all of it worked by slaves, all of them marked for death. Auschwitz
> was essentially about murder, about what people did to people. A human
> being could go from physician or musician or mother or child to ash in
> the course of a couple of hours. Geology had nothing to do with it.
> The mysteries are not scientific. They are theological.
>
> Here is my fear. Because we cannot understand Auschwitz, because it is
> an immense bump in the road in our belief in a good God -- "a just
> God," the president said in his inaugural address -- we will let it
> slip from memory, remembered maybe like some statue in the town square
> that memorializes something or other, maybe a war, maybe a man.
> Reminders will seem like nagging, and when the survivors are finally
> gone (they have been an incredibly hardy lot) so, too, will be the
> obligation to remember. Ah, what a relief!
>
> Then, bit by bit, Auschwitz will fade, becoming something that
> happened in the last century to people who some may insist had it
> coming anyway -- Jews and commies and Gypsies and homosexuals . . .
> mostly. For most people, it may become -- it is already becoming --
> too dense a historic burden, a hideously heavy truth about who we can
> be, not just who we would like to be. Prince Harry just chucked it
> all. Someday, I fear, so shall we all and then -- as it has in Rwanda
> and at Srebrenica -- it will happen again.
>
> And again.
>
> cohenr@washpost.com
>
>
>
> © 2005 The Washington Post Company
>
>
>
>
>