Thursday, August 12, 2004

Understanding Evil
I'll admit up front that my memory is terrible when it comes to remembering facts, dates, names, or any of the other trappings of historical events. I attribute a lot of this to the fact that I read books too fast with little effort made on my part to remember key aspects that might, in the long run, broaden my knowledge. What inevitably happens is that I'm incapable of accurately citing anything unless I've encountered it on numerous occasions, or enough of an impression has been made on me that I know I don't want to forget this information. So, what comes out of my mouth when trying to discuss anything about something I've read or seen recently is a jumbled recreation that I know is just flat out wrong or, at the very least, somewhat misguided. Unless I have the material in front of me enabling me to quote directly from it, then there's a good chance that I'll mangle the facts.

This brings me to the current topic of my reading, the origins of the Holocaust. I realized that I know next to nothing about the actual process involved in Hitler's decision to implement the Final Solution. I feel, and I'm sure most would agree, that this is simply too important to ignore. We all need to understand how this came to be in order to prevent it from ever happening again. Some might argue that it is happening in Sudan, and that the legal wrangling over the definition of genocide is little more than a bureaucratic nightmare, but that discussion should wait.

Two books, Christopher Browning's The Origins of the Final Solution: The Evolution of Nazi Jewish Policy, September 1939-March 1942 (Comprehensive History of the Holocaust Series) and Richard Rhodes' Masters of Death: The SS-Einsatzgruppen and the Invention of the Holocaust, the former which I've finished and the latter which I'm currently reading, paint a terrifying portrait of life in Europe during World War II. The unimaginable cruelty inflicted upon so many people, primarily Jews, is unfathomable on any scale, and the brutality in which the Final Solution was carried out is beyond comprehension in many ways. This leads me to my current dilemma regarding this type of reading.

Encountered in these books, especially Rhodes', are descriptions of mass executions that are gut-wrenching in their vividness and mind-numbing in their sheer brutality. The numbers are staggering, and the prime number, six million, is so far beyond anyone's ability to comprehend, let alone visualize, that it's nearly unbelievable. What I worry about is not so much about those who deny that the Holocaust actually occurred. Those types of people, while dangerous, are easily dismissed as conspiracy driven lunatics with a anti-Semitic belief system so deeply entrenched in their psyches that no amount of evidence no matter how convincing will sway their beliefs. No, what I worry about is that when one encounters numbers on a page detailing various massacres that occurred all over German occupied Europe and Russia that the numbers become just that, numbers and nothing more. Becoming desensitized to violence is a chilling aspect of modern culture, and I guess it should come as no surprise that those who are desensitized to actual depictions, real or otherwise, of violence then the mind's ability to comprehend implied violence would likewise deteriorate as well. It's sad and troubling, but this subject seems too important to allow that to happen.

Another troubling aspect of immersing one's self in literature devoted to atrocities, especially the Holocaust, is that one seems to encounter in every published account a description of the events committed that trumps that last in stomach-churning disgust. It appears to me that the Nazis committed just about every atrocity upon another human being that one could possibly imagine. This is troubling for many reasons the chief among them that I would hope that the need to keep this subject relevant for all isn't predicated on the necessity to describe actions that defy imagination. In other words, historians shouldn't have to rely on the public's willingness to be offended only if they are legitimately disgusted by descriptions. The numbers should be enough, but sometimes they aren't. A prime example how this type of mindset is subtly shifting is the outrage surrounding the Abu Ghraib scandal only really surfaced after the pictures were made available. The written words weren't enough to warrant outrage and immediate need for investigation.

This brings me back to my memory issue. I want to remember this material. I feel like I need to remember this material, but I'm afraid I can't. I know that what's being described in these books is something that we, as a society, need to understand. Hatred on this scale, and the accompanying evil associated with it, cannot occur again in our lifetimes. I know deep down that my outrage will always be present. I'll never forget that this occurred, but I worry about others who might forget for the very reasons discussed above. How do we remedy this?

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