The Sunflower

Cardinal König reiterates the opinion put forth by many other respondents, that “an individual cannot forgive what was done to others” (182), but adds that, for Christians, whether one may forgive has, through Christ, been made possible. He adds that the question of whether he should forgive is still unresolved.

König acknowledges that Simon, in listening to Karl’s story and displaying sympathy for his physical condition, indeed did demonstrate compassion and allowed Karl the relief of having his confession heard. Under the circumstances, Simon could not have been expected to be able to express pardon explicitly, but he was given an opportunity to demonstrate “superhuman goodness in the midst of a subhuman and bestial world of atrocities” (183), and his decision not to do so may be the thing that continues to trouble him after the fact.

Harold Kushner questions the ability of an individual to give forgiveness, but believes that the power to be forgiven is a matter between the guilty individual and God. He believes forgiveness is miraculous but possible, that a person can feel the release of being separated from his past wrongdoing.

In the case of The Sunflower, Kushner says that the mistake on the part of the SS man was to believe that he could be forgiven by another individual, rather than by God. He says that, if Karl wanted to die with a sense of forgiveness, he should have prayed to God, renouncing his life as a Nazi. Further, he states, “by summoning one Jew to absolve him of what he had done to other Jews, he leaves us doubting whether he has in fact transcended the Nazi view of seeing Jews as less than human, interchangeable entities rather than unique human beings” (185).

In the case of an individual granting forgiveness to another, Kushner says, this is “a letting go of the sense of grievance, and perhaps more importantly a letting go of the role of victim” (186). This type of forgiveness would, in effect, be a rejection of the atrocities committed against himself by the Nazis, in order to set himself, Simon, free. 

Lawrence L. Langer begins his assessment from the position that while some crimes are forgivable, “the mass murder of European Jewry is an unforgivable crime” (187). Further, he believes that Wiesenthal’s refusal to grant pardon to the SS man is an indication that Wiesenthal is also aware of the extent of these crimes.

Langer points out that, while the SS man confessed, Simon said nothing, and as a result, we have an unchallenged version of Karl’s experience. More is said of his regret than of his evil actions, and therefore we are inclined toward forgiveness and away from the awareness of the full extent of his guilt. Meanwhile, Simon is left with the question of whether he is guilty of not giving forgiveness when it was requested of him.

Langer’s concern is how the language used to talk about the Holocaust has resulted in a “verbal tapestry of exculpation that shifts the onus of responsibility from the criminal to the victim” (188). At a personal level, the dying SS man is, even in asking for forgiveness, attempting to downplay his own guilt. He says that the discussion of The Sunflower should not be whether Simon should have forgiven Karl, but rather why Karl chose in the first place the path that led him to participate in the atrocities of the Holocaust. Although Karl asks for forgiveness, he does not address the reasons he made these choices in the beginning.

As a final statement, Langer asserts, “Simon Wiesenthal himself was and remains innocent of any wrong” (190). 

Primo Levi begins with a discussion of justice in the form of punishment for crime, that public opinion requires that crime be punished in such a way that it can make amends without leading to further offence or pain.

Levi says that Simon was correct in refusing to forgive the SS man, because it was the “lesser evil” (191), pointing out that for Simon there was not one absolutely correct option. Simon, destined as he was for unjust death at the hands of the Nazis, was in no position to give premature forgiveness on his own behalf, and even less so on behalf of those who had already died at the hands of this particular Nazi.

Levi points out that the Nazi’s repentance was dubious and that he most likely would have continued on with his crimes had he not found himself facing death. In fact, his confession to Simon would indicate that his mind may still be twisted by propaganda, viewing “the ‘Jew’ as an abnormal being—half-devil, half-miracle worker, capable in any case of supernatural deeds” (192). Further, he suggests that, in a sense, Karl was attempting to relieve himself of his anguish by placing it on Simon.