Many of the Symposium contributors believe that even as he lay dying, Karl saw the Jews as objects or subhuman, and that his wish to confess to a Jew, any Jew, and a concentration camp prisoner at that, showed that he had learned nothing from his experiences. Do you agree with this?

"Without forgetting there can be no forgiving," says retired Israeli Supreme Court Justice Moshe Bejski (p. 116); the Dalai Lama, on the other hand, believes that one must forgive but not necessarily forget. Do you think it is possible to forgive and not forget? How would you differentiate forgiveness and reconciliation?

"I asked myself if it was only the Nazis who had persecuted us. Was it not just as wicked for people to look on quietly and without protest at human beings enduring such shocking humiliation?" (p. 57). Some of the commentators believe that those who were following orders were just as guilty as those who gave them; others, like Dith Pran (p. 230), draw a moral line between followers and leaders. Would you hold them equally responsible?

“In his confession there was true repentance,” writes Wiesenthal (p. 53). Not all of the commentators agree with him. Many of them think Karl was angling for “cheap grace,” and that his remorse exists only because he finds himself facing death. Which point of view do you agree with? Do you think, with literary critic Tzvetan Todorov (p. 265), that the very fact of Karl’s expressing remorse makes him exceptional, and therefore deserving of respect?

If you were to find yourself in Simon Wiesenthal’s place, would you be able to forgive the Nazi soldier for the atrocities committed against the Jews? Be honest and be sure to justify your position.