The Sunflower_ On the Possibilities and - Wiesenthal, Simon copy

EVA FLEISCHNER
Simon Wiesenthal's story ends by inviting the reader to change places with him: “Ask
yourself the crucial question, ‘what would I have done?’” I find it impossible to answer this
question. As an outsider to the Shoah twice over—first, as one who was not there, secondly,
as a non-Jew—neither the most vivid imagination nor the deepest empathy can enable me to
experience even remotely the horror in the midst of which the victims lived and died. Nor
can the skill with which Wiesenthal tells this highly dramatic story bridge the gap. I shall
therefore, instead, give my reaction to Simon's response to the dying SS man's wish.
Some might call it lack of response, since Simon leaves the room in silence. But I find
him responding throughout, again and again: allowing the SS man to hold on to his hand,
remaining seated on the bed when revulsion—at times fear—make him want to leave,
chasing away the fly from the dying man. Simon was forced to come, he had no choice. But
he chose to remain and hear Karl out. And years later, when he visited Karl's mother in
Stuttgart, he made the decision not to rob the lonely old woman of the fond memories of her
“good” son. All this, in my view, constitutes a significant and humane response on his part.
And yet, after leaving the room, and many times over the years since then, Simon is
haunted by the question whether he should have granted Karl's request and forgiven him. The
question, for me, is not whether he should have forgiven, but whether he could have done so.
Was it in his power to forgive?
Over the past twenty years I have frequently used The Sunflower as a text in my Holocaust