"Eichmann and the Holocaust" is an important read, if only because the book, assembled from Arendt's "Reporter at Large: A five-part article commissioned by "The New Yorker," and excerpted from her more comprehensive: "Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil," reminds us that we have not in half a century, come to terms with the nature of war crimes or crimes against humanity.
Arendt offers a combination of reportage and critical analysis of her subject, Adolf Eichmann, and the context in which he performed his diabolical work. It is a story that we all assume we know, if only because the phrases and words:"banality of evil," holocaust, genocide and crimes against humanity, have become such commonplace descriptions in a world that has grown too familiar and, so, too indifference to horrible acts committed to advance one ideology or political party or another.
It's always important to return to the source to understand an author's thesis and this slender book enables us to look closely at the man and the Officer, as well as those who gave and who followed his orders. In this context it's also important to understand the evolution of the Nazi's "Final Solution."
Anti-Semitism may have been at the center of the Nazi ideology, but genocide was not a given, nor was a machine put in motion in 1933 when Hitler took power. There were precedents to the mass murder of Jews and it's important to keep in mind that Jews were neither the first put to death, nor sent to concentration camps.
Arendt's story and analysis is a helpful corrective to the sentimental fairytale told by Steven Spielberg's "Schindler's List." Evil was far less pervasive and considerably more seductive and complex than the usual representations of the perpetrators of Shoah.
If I understand Arendt correctly, the Nazi's discovered, more through trial and error than analytics, the means to accomplish their ends. But the famous "machine" metaphor is less apt than I previously thought. The whole spectrum of human attributes and qualities were necessary, put into place by 1,000s of people—across the political, social and religious spectrum—made Eichmann the committed and successful bureaucrat he proved to be.
Which is to say that Eichmann could not have famously been just a "cog" in the machine, if the machine, however Rube Goldbergesque, was not in place and maintained, in a surprisingly slipshod manner. And, maintained, ironically, as much by the victims as by the perpetrators of the Holocaust, as Arendt, without blaming the victims, makes clear. She suggests that perhaps as many of half the victims of Shoah would have survived had they not participated in their own extermination.
Another important element of the book, which still resonates today, involves the controversy of the Trial itself. It is a legitimate question to ask: Did the State of Israel have the right to try and judge, sentence and execute Eichmann?
While acknowledging the man was a criminal and guilty of terrible crimes, she asks us to contemplate what were the natures of Eichmann's crimes: Crimes against the Jews, or crimes against humanity, or crimes against his conscience? Yes, she concludes the "court in Jerusalem succeeded in in fulfilling the demands of justice," but it did so without providing an unambiguous process that would help us to seek and deliver justice in the future. The proof of this is how we find ourselves today, limited to metaphors such as "regime change" to eliminate uncooperative or failed states, or to firing missiles from drones, to kill those deemed by those in power a threat to our way of life.