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Preventing Death’s Victory

Elie ⁤Wiesel: Confronting ‌the Silence

Winston Churchill‌ called the Holocaust a “crime without a name.” ⁢Elie Wiesel, one ⁢of its ‍most eloquent‍ survivors, would spend⁢ the rest of ⁢his life trying‌ to find‌ the ‌words‍ to describe‍ what for many seemed incomprehensible. That he often succeeded ⁣is a testament to ⁢his greatness. In his new book, Elie Wiesel: Confronting ⁣the⁢ Silence, ⁤Joseph Berger profiles a ⁢man who became not only a‍ spokesman for Holocaust survivors,⁤ but the ⁢living⁢ embodiment of their ⁣calls to “never forget.”

“By⁣ the sheer force ⁢of his personality ‌and ‍his gift for the haunting phrase, Mr. Wiesel, who had ⁢been liberated from⁤ Buchenwald as a sixteen-year-old​ with the indelible tattoo A-7713 on his⁣ arm, gradually exhumed the Holocaust from the ⁢burial ​ground of ‌the history books.” – Joseph Berger

Wiesel’s works, ⁣particularly his 1960 ⁢memoir, Night, spread awareness about the⁣ Holocaust ⁣at a moment when much of the world would have rather forgotten a crime ⁢whose barbarity⁣ remains hard to fathom.

A Little Hasidic Boy from Sighet

Wiesel was born in the ⁢Carpathian town of‍ Sighet, then a part of Hungary. On the eve of the Holocaust, 40 percent of ‌its 10,000 residents were Jewish, many of them Hasidim. The town was deeply cultured, with eight synagogues, an elegant hotel,⁤ and​ a⁢ publishing house. ⁢Like many of Europe’s shtetls, or⁢ Jewish communities, it​ would become a lost world.

As a child, Wiesel displayed a love for both books and ‍music that would remain with him all his life. He was fascinated with ⁤the mystic and the otherworldly. His⁤ idyllic life ​would‌ change, however, when on March 19, 1944, Nazi forces occupied Hungary. Reports‌ reached ‌Sighet warning of what was to ⁢come. On the eve ‍of‍ Passover, Nazi forces ordered the town’s synagogues‌ to⁤ be closed and soon ‍the Jewish community had ‍to⁢ surrender their possessions, ‍livelihoods, and eventually, their very lives.

“I felt like I was living—not learning ​but living—an incandescent ⁤chapter of history; one that ‍later generations would study,” Wiesel would one day write. But that introspection ⁣came later. First came⁣ surviving.

“My little sister wanted to ​be ‌brave,” he would write. “And ‌I wanted to die in ‌her place.”

Wiesel witnessed unimaginable horrors.⁤ He saw his father, whom he revered, ‌beaten and humiliated. He saw children—some of them babies—thrown screaming into fires. The Holocaust, he⁤ would later say, was “an indictment of⁢ our present world.” He would ⁤never ‌forget, never forgive, the world’s inaction and the barbarism⁢ that he saw.

Wiesel survived. His father did not.

At war’s end, Wiesel⁢ found himself in France, housed and fed ⁢as part of a program for those ⁣orphaned by the Holocaust. He resisted suggestions to return to Sighet. “The ‍town,” he wrote, “no longer ‍existed. ⁤It had followed the Jews into deportation.” Eventually ⁣he contacted his ‌two surviving sisters. And it wasn’t long‌ before he began to wrestle with all that he had endured. ⁢Importantly, he initially chose to stay in France.

In Paris, Wiesel studied at the Sorbonne, read Plato and Freud in⁢ French, attended lectures by philosophers like Jean-Paul ‌Sartre and Martin Buber, and became immersed​ in ⁢the café ⁤life of⁤ the Latin Quarter. He began ‌to write. And, ‌if fleetingly at first, ⁢he became a journalist.

As Berger notes, these years were crucial. Elie ⁣Wiesel was not the only Holocaust survivor. But his years in France, and his lifelong existential struggle, made him view his experiences through a⁢ different lens.

“I ​owe⁤ France my secular ⁣education, ⁣my language⁢ and my ⁢career as a writer. ‌Liberated from Buchenwald, it was ‌in⁢ France that I found compassion ⁤and ⁣humanity,” he ⁢wrote. Wiesel, Berger notes, had ⁢a ‍”lifelong⁢ penchant‌ to ​view the universe in‌ transcendent‍ terms, to allow for the ‌possibility of‍ the⁢ mystical and surreal, to see himself as something of a mystic.” And “not surprisingly, more than ‌a ⁣few people saw ⁣in Wiesel an otherworldly aspect, like⁤ that of a biblical prophet.”

In the ​spring of ​1954, while on a voyage ⁢to Brazil, Wiesel⁤ wrote Night, ​in which he recounted his experiences. “I wrote ​to testify, to stop the dead from dying, ⁢to justify my‌ own survival,” he recounted in his memoir. “I wrote to speak to ⁣those who were gone. As long as I‍ spoke to ‌them,⁤ they‌ would live on, at least in my memory.”

Wiesel had a difficult time getting the manuscript published.⁢ One editor turned​ him down, telling Wiesel “no one is‍ interested in the death ⁤camps anymore.”‌ And when it was‌ finally‍ put to ‍print, the book sold precious few copies.

Israel’s miraculous victory in the 1967 Six-Day War ⁤would prove to be a turning point. A renewed interest in the plight of world Jewry, and Wiesel’s prolific ⁣output, spurred attention. At the time of its⁢ publication, there were precious few ​published testimonies and books about the slaughter of six million Jews. Night,⁤ buoyed by Wiesel’s “deliberately spare style,” as he ⁢put it, ⁣helped change that. “Every phrase‌ was a⁣ testament,” ​he said.

Night, and the modest success ‌of some of his other⁣ works, pushed Wiesel to the forefront‌ of‌ the world’s ‌emerging ⁢consciousness about‍ the Holocaust.⁤ He became a sought-after lecturer, author, ⁢essayist,​ and teacher—the latter a⁢ title that he prized above all else. The⁢ world might⁣ have wanted to ‌forget, but he wouldn’t let it.

By the time of ⁤his death in 2016, Wiesel ⁣had become a ⁢renowned voice for the voiceless,‌ calling on the world ⁤not only to remember⁢ the Holocaust but to prevent future genocides. He was ‍unafraid ⁢to reproach U.S. presidents and other⁤ world leaders for their mistakes and failures, and remained an ardent advocate for Israel and the​ Jewish people.

Although the book’s ⁣ending is marred by the ​author’s decision to characterize Wiesel’s friendships with certain pro-Israel ‍figures​ like Sheldon Adelson as “missteps,” it is a​ beautifully written, even-handed, and illuminating account of an⁢ unassuming, but haunted man ‍from a‍ small shtetl who warned that “the opposite of love‍ is not hate,⁣ it is indifference.” At a⁢ time⁢ of rising anti-Semitism, both the message ⁤and the man are worth⁢ remembering.

Elie ⁤Wiesel: Confronting the Silence
by Joseph Berger
⁤Yale University Press, ‌360 pp.,‍ $26

Sean Durns‍ is a senior ⁤research analyst for⁢ the Committee for Accuracy in Middle East ⁣Reporting and Analysis.


Read More From Original Article Here: ‘To Stop the Dead From Dying’

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