The Sunflower

Manès Sperber begins by exploring the question of what it means to forgive, whether it inherently requires forgetting of the crime. He suggests two possible answers from a historical perspective. The first is that “the surest and most lasting forgiveness and reconciliation is when the descendants of the evildoers and the victims bind themselves into a collective and unbreakable unity” (247). Sperber acknowledges that, in this case, time allows for new revelations of the relationship between the two groups. The second possible answer, which, he says, may be more applicable to this case, “because of the one-sidedness of the crime” (247), is a tragic situation where the victim participates in forgiveness as a form of submission to the wrongdoer.

Sperber points out that it is often the tendency of the wrongdoer to forget his own crime, whether or not he ever receives forgiveness. He suggests that, because of the circumstances, Simon and Karl are forever bound together, whether one would desire it or not. He advises, “Do not grant pardon until you are sure that the guilty on their side will always remember their guilt” (248). At the national level, Sperber says it is good that Germans have paid reparations, not because it restores anything that has been lost to the Jewish nation, but rather as a form of cleansing for the German nation itself.

As to whether Simon should have forgiven Karl, Sperber says that Simon was correct not to give forgiveness in that moment, because he was not authorized to do so on behalf of the martyrs. He adds, however, that had Karl continued to live and proven himself to be reformed and truly repentant, forgiveness would be the only healthy choice.

André Stein begins by criticizing those respondents who advocate forgiveness and thereby “show a greater affinity with the dying murderer than with his victims” (251). He points out that Karl fails to show real empathy when he asks for any Jew to listen to his confession; therefore he fails to demonstrate true repentance. Stein says that for Simon to have forgiven Karl would have been a lie. He says that to listen to Karl’s story on behalf of the victims and to respond with silence was the best he could have done.

Stein tells the story of his aunt, who was raped and became pregnant by a Nazi soldier, then used the unborn child to bargain for the lives of her family. He charges those who criticize his aunt, by saying that it is wrong for outsiders to “stay riveted on the moral stance of the victim” (254).

Further, Stein takes exception to Simon’s decision not to tell Karl’s mother the truth. He believes that only by confronting people with the reality of misdeeds can we hope for real accountability. 

Nechama Tec says his initial reaction to Wiesenthal’s question is that he would not be able to forgive the SS man. He identifies himself as a Holocaust survivor who avoided concentration camps by pretending to be a Catholic.

Tec discusses the questions that people ask him, for some decades since the Holocaust, as to whether it may be time to stop punishing the Nazis. His response is no, because he is not authorized to forgive on behalf of the murdered and because society needs murderers to be held to account.

Tec goes on to say that he is not satisfied with his initial negative response to the question and returns to Wiesenthal’s story. He observes that the Nazi, although claiming to be repentant, “dwells on his own personal suffering” (258). If Karl were truly sorry, he might have spoken instead to his fellow Germans and implored them to discontinue their crimes. Tec states, “Even on his deathbed he did not give up the racial ideologies which became part of his very being” (260).

He concludes by saying that Wiesenthal’s act of listening in silence, followed by a continuous questioning about forgiveness, indicates a moral superiority on the part of the victim in this case.

Telushkin questions whether the Nazi would have continued feeling sorry for his actions if he had survived his injuries. He refers to Karl’s self-pity, specifically to the line—intended as a gesture of goodwill toward Karl—in which he says that the Jews were less guilty than he is, the implication being that on some level he still believes the Jews to be guilty at all.

Telushkin responds that he would not have given forgiveness to the man. First, he believes that Simon was not in the position to forgive on behalf of Karl’s victims. Second, he believes that there can be no benefit to society for people to be taught that they can commit crimes because forgiveness is an option.

As to whether Karl might be forgiven by God, Telushkin expresses some ambivalence within Talmudic teaching. He points out that the Talmud teaches that God can only forgive sins committed against Himself. He adds, however, that another teaching indicates contrition upon death may result in “some measure of atonement in the next world” (264).

In conclusion, he states that the religions of the world should teach forgiveness as a virtue, but that it is more desirable that people from a very early age be taught that some acts are beyond forgiveness, so that repentance might take place before the grievous act is committed.