Perpetration and complicity under Nazism have had long-term consequences for individuals and societies. Collective violence has continued to occur across the world. It is vital to ask what broader insights can be drawn from exploring questions around identity and involvement in Nazi atrocities.
State-sponsored violence entails the participation and complicity of many institutions, professions and individuals. It takes many forms, including mass murder, torture, imprisonment, exploitation, and the withdrawal of rights from particular groups. It can range from daily acts of discrimination, through the removal of the conditions for life, to outright killing.
In these circumstances, many people feel impotent to stand up for those being victimized, and focus rather on their own daily lives. Many feel indifferent to persecution that does not affect them personally, especially if they benefit from it, directly or indirectly. Some people glorify or justify violence in pursuit of national goals; dictatorship and armed conflicts provide a context for genocide.
Later in their lives, most people involved in state-condoned violence construct narratives that minimize their own responsibility and maintain their view of themselves as decent human beings. Institutions, companies and professions may resist acknowledging responsibility or refuse to pay compensation. Some do reflect more critically on their actions and seek to learn from these experiences.
The underlying issues and challenges remain relevant today. A strong framework of democratic institutions and respect for laws upholding human rights is essential. But even in democracies, public opinion can easily be manipulated, and laws can discriminate against particular groups. Informed historical awareness, willingness to think critically about complex situations, and a sense of responsibility for the consequences of action, remain vitally important.
Sympathy for Hitler? Fiction and empathy
In 1977, Nazi hunters finally track down the old Hitler deep in the Amazon jungle. When they put him on trial, Hitler offers a spirited defence: ‘I was not the worst. How many wretched little men of the forests did your Belgian friends murder outright or leave to starvation and syphilis when they raped the Congo?… Some twenty million.’ Hitler insists that he is ‘small game’ in a ‘world that has tortured political prisoners and poured napalm on naked villagers, that has stripped the earth of plant and animal.’
Do you feel sympathy for ‘Hitler’ in this scene? Do you think he has a point or is he just clever at making excuses? George Steiner imagined Hitler speaking like this in his novel The Portage to San Cristóbal of A.H. (1979). Steiner was heavily criticized for letting the fictional Hitler express his views, because readers might empathize with him and be distracted from his abhorrent crimes and the victims’ suffering.
But Steiner defended his freedom as a writer to ask difficult questions. Many writers and film-makers use fiction to explore different perspectives and challenge our expectations. Fiction also makes us think about our own responses to violent perpetrators and about why we focus more on some acts of violence than on others.
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, 05318, courtesy of Richard Freimark. Photographer: Heinrich Hoffmann/Studio of H. Hoffmann. C. 1935.
Justice or forgiveness?
In 2019, 93-year-old Bruno Dey was put on trial in a youth court for aiding and abetting 5,230 murders; he had become a guard at Stutthof concentration camp when he was 17. Trials like this raise questions about justice and forgiveness as perpetrators grow old and weak. Does the passing of time diminish the need for justice? Is there a point where it is better to forgive or forget?
These questions remain relevant in many contexts: some states are demanding compensation for the violence of former colonizers; African-Americans are seeking justice for the legacy of slavery.
The philosopher Vladimir Jankélévitch argues that forgiveness is a gift from the victim and must be preceded by the perpetrator taking responsibility for their actions with whatever suffering that involves. He says that justice remains absolutely separate from forgiveness. We might conclude that neither justice nor forgiveness should be compromised by time; nor does a perpetrator’s remorse diminish the importance of justice.
Justice is also about recognising those who were persecuted and traumatised. It is about compensation and remembrance of victims. And it is about raising to attention those who were complicit or involved in perpetration – highlighting the conditions in which they were mobilised to act, and the ways in which they subsequently evaded justice, and sought to deny, justify or reinterpret their past.
Wikimedia Commons CC-BY-SA-4.0. Photographer: Shafiur Rahman.
Screenshot of Rohingya refugee camp in Chittagong, Bangladesh, 2017: Wikimedia Commons.
Director: Katie Arnold, Voice of America.