Silence In Trial Of God By Elie Wiesel

Silence is not simply the absence of sound, not simply the absence of activity; rather, it is the sum of all things that can be heard, seen, or felt. Silence is not simply produced from discipline, not simply produced from anxiety; rather, it involves everything before and everything after - comprising a period of time rather than a single moment. On the other hand, what is silence’s effect? As complex as silence is itself, its effect is complex as well; generally, it serves as an amplifier to that associated with it in the first place. Silence with anger produces exacerbated anger, and silence with ignorance produces exacerbated ignorance. In Trial of God by Elie Wiesel, Berish, the tavernkeep, lashes out at God for his silence and allowance

of those beloved to be maimed. Also, God’s silence allows Berish to create ignorant and faulty arguments that Sam continuously rebukes. In “Sunflower,” Matthew Fox describes Wiesenthal’s gift of silence to Karl, an SS man at his deathbed. Silence, in and of itself, serves the exacerbation of anger, ignorance, and additional silence.
Silence is the breeding ground for anger.

Yankel and Avrémel have repeatedly inquired about the happenings on that night of the Pogrom, and now is no exception. As the Priest leaves, the room is still left with a lingering of tension; now, no one wishes to continue the trial. That is, until Mendel broaches the subject of Hannah with Berish. Consequently, Berish inadvertently reminisces, “ . . . she is silent: something in her is silent. . . . She speaks silently, she weeps silently; she remembers silently, she screams silently. At times when I look at her I am seized by a mad desire to destroy everything around me” (Wiesel 104). Undoubtedly, Berish uses a diazeugma here to invoke a sense of haste, a sense of inundation; this helps to refer back to that night where the tavern was attacked, and Hannah was overrun by savages. Even though it was one night that caused her to be silent, why does it persistently anger those around her? Clearly, she serves as a living reminder, an everlasting feeling of helplessness and violence. When Berish looks at her, he imbibes this “strange kindness” (104) that she radiates; however, he also imbibes this feeling of being wronged, hurt, and stolen from. Before the Pogrom he “was warm towards everybody, Jews and Christians” (104), but now what is he to do after having his life stolen from him? He looks for fault, he looks for something to blame: that is why the King Almighty is on trial - a dichotomy in and of itself. In addition, there is

dichotomy everywhere: God’s assumed job was to protect the Jews, yet they were slaughtered without intervention; Sam, the embodiment of Satan, serves as God’s defendant; and they are all Christians, yet they put God on trial with Jewish Berish as persecutor. God’s silence in the face of violence is the crux of the trial, where Berish accuses “Him of hostility, cruelty and indifference” (125) and indicts him “guilty!” (125); there is an innumerable amount of times where Berish’s argument breaks down due to faulty logic, yet he continually and avidly argues his position until “the door opens, accompanied by deafening and murderous roars” (161). It is of these reasons that silence is more than just the absence of sound, the absence of thought; rather, it is the absence of reason. It speaks to human’s innate trigger for anger, violence, and bloodshed; for one’s mind one ponders “Why?” as one ignorantly searches for blame, and will travel to any end to do so.
Silence is also the breeding ground for ignorance. As Berish continues to charge God with iniquity after iniquity, Sam continues to debunk his accusation every single time. Many times, Berish will base his argument on assumptions about God Himself, and Sam mentions this; yet, Berish never seems to stop his ways. After Berish claims that God is strong enough to care for himself, Sam intervenes, “What do you know of God that enables you to denounce Him? You turn your back on Him - then you describe him! . . . Born in dust, you are nothing but dust” (134). At this point, Berish is still incited by the memories of his fallen friends, family, and community - he refuses to realize the fallibility of his arguments, the fallibility of his charges. Moreover, it is as if Berish is looking at the world through a pinhole - tunnel visioned and naive, only supported by his ignorance of rhetoric: “But I’m not dust. . . . I’m human!” (134). Sam’s allusion to the Bible contrasts this idea of God’s written word and Berish, that Berish claims God is silent yet there is a whole tangible collection of his words. Earlier the Priest spoke about this category of ignorance, that some “people always think they have time. They’re on the edge of the abyss and don’t want to see; they’re singed by the flames and don’t realize that they’re already in hell” (93). Specifically, this quotation speaks to the fact that Sam, the embodiment of Satan, is included in this trial without the revealing of his identity - the source of evil and destruction remains hidden in plain sight; Berish and the others are “singed by the flames” (93) and do not realize that they are in the literal and corporeal presence of Satan. Also, this goes to an even further extent of irony where the court starts praising Sam, Satan, as some sort of “tzaddik, a Just, a Rabbi, a Master” (160) - this ignorance from silence is not only limited to Berish himself, but everyone is included due to Sam’s silence about his true identity. Silence may be the absence of reason, but it also is all that that entails thereafter - the consequences, the repercussions, the “murderous roars” (161).
Just as silence breeds anger and ignorance, it also recursively breeds more silence.

One day, Simon Wiesenthal was called to the side of an SS member in his deathbed. Fully knowing that he was the reason of the death of eighty-nine of Simon’s relative, the SS man, Karl, “wanted Simon to somehow relieve him of his guilt” (Fox 144). There is a large dichotomy here: a man guilty of the most inhuman of acts is following a human algorithm for repentance; specifically, Karl, a lapsed Catholic, is only attempting to undergo penance like all Catholics. If one is to consider the savage man’s shoes, one would realize that he only received orders - he followed an algorithm, followed rules without emotion; it was this mindless following that was his soul’s downfall. When he was ordered to these “acts of hatred and sadism and antisemitism” (144), his mind and heart were at each other’s throats - there was cognitive dissonance; yet, he chose to follow his mind and keep his heart silent, his morals silent, his ethics silent. Specifically, he stayed silent for reconciliation, but now seeks another kind of reconciliation. Wiesenthal, when invited into this hospital for the man’s penance, “gave Karl the only penance available to him to bestow: Silence” (144). It was a trade: silence for silence - Karl was ignorant to expect more than that. As Berish was ignorant to expect God to reconcile for his “crimes,” Karl was ignorant to expect Wiesenthal to hand him full forgiveness. Clearly, the

greatest way to react to silence is to be silent oneself.
In all of these cases, silence has served as an enabler, an amplifier. In Berish’s case, there was already the existence of anger - he became naturally aggressive accompanying the pogrom, and the assault of his daughter. Typically, this amplification can easily breed ignorance, as was the case with Berish as well. When Berish was charging God with “hostility, cruelty and indifference” (125), it was easy to defend his argument in his eyes because God would not respond back in an audible way. In addition, Shri Prashant once spoke, “How will you hear the silence of Being when your mind is full of noise?” Despite all the evidence that comes from taking the Bible and Old Testament in faith, Berish threw this out of the window as all humans do in times of anger - Berish could not see the whole picture because his “mind is full of noise.” Conclusively, Wiesenthal saw past this aggression and ignorance, being wise himself, and chose to give Karl the best gift of all in that situation: Silence.