The Guilty

by Peter E. Gordon

New Republic
September 29, 2011

This past April marked the fiftieth anniversary of the trial of Adolf Eichmann. Captured in 1960 by the Mossad in Buenos Aires, where he had been living with his family under an assumed name, the former high-ranking SS officer and head of the Gestapo’s Department for Jewish Affairs was flown to Jerusalem, where he stood trial in an Israeli court for his pivotal role in both the design and the implementation of the Final Solution. By mid-August, Eichmann had been sentenced to death. He died by hanging in Ramle Prison in 1962, and it was decided to scatter his ashes at sea to prevent neo-Nazi efforts at commemoration.

The trial represented a true watershed in the postwar struggle to come to terms with the legacy of Nazism and the Holocaust. This anniversary thus serves as an appropriate occasion for assessing its long-term significance. The historian Deborah Lipstadt is an interesting person for the task. Although she is well-known for her studies of the American press during the Holocaust and for her comprehensive indictment of post-Holocaust revisionism, she is surely most famous for her courageous appearance in a British court to fend off charges of libel brought by the Holocaust-revisionist David Irving (an experience that she captured in full legal detail in her book History on Trial in 2005).

Lipstadt is hardly a bashful writer, and it is chiefly her sense of personal mission that distinguishes her narrative of the Eichmann trial. Like many of the works that have appeared in the ‘Jewish Encounters’ series from Schocken and Nextbook, Lipstadt’s book combines a familiar genre of historical summation with a more unusual species of personal and historical reflection. It is a serviceable summary of the events and the major themes of the trial itself. But readers already familiar with this story will not find much to surprise them in Lipstadt’s narrative. More interesting are Lipstadt’s remarks on Hannah Arendt, whose controversial interpretation of the trial is subjected – not surprisingly -- to a severe dismantling. But what will grab the reader’s attention most of all is the unusual way Lipstadt interweaves the narrative of the Eichmann trial with more speculative remarks on its significance in relation to revisionism.

It is worth pondering why a single trial should have had the impact it did. After all, the Eichmann trial was hardly the first courtroom prosecution of former Nazis. By the end of the 1940s, the series of trials carried out by the allied military tribunal at Nuremberg had issued nearly one hundred and fifty guilty verdicts. Lesser-known trials conducted by personnel of the United States military at the former Dachau concentration camps led to an even greater number of guilty verdicts. But the Eichmann trial was different in several ways. First and foremost, it was the trial of a single man rather than a crowd of men. In our own time, especially after the various scandals regarding the past crimes of erstwhile Nazis and collaborators, it is too easy to forget how stunning it must have seemed to witness a trial dedicated to the prosecution of a single individual. The sheer scale of Nazi war-crimes often tempts historians to philosophize in grand ways about the impossibility of representation. But when the isolated war-criminal is sitting in the courtroom in a glass box, some (though only some) of the difficulties of imagining human depravity are removed.