Elie Wiesel, immortal

The flesh and blood of Elie Wiesel failed at the age of 87, and only the flesh and blood, for he is a man from whom life can never be taken. In sight, sound, smell, taste and touch, he is a young man living right now ravages of humankind never thought possible.

He is imprisoned, this very “Night” as he calls it, destined for the cremation ovens as A-7713, the number tattooed on his left arm by the Germans when he arrived at Auschwitz as a 15-yearold Jewish boy. He is. He is because he believed that “to remain silent and indifferent is the greatest sin of all,” and so he wrote about the horror that had happened with grace that was itself a scream.

He is because he was determined to survive to the fullest and to show others the way.

Just weeks ago, against doctor’s orders, Wiesel left his hospital in a wheelchair to speak at a cere- mony honoring Armando Valladares, 22 years a Cuban prisoner of conscience in Fidel Castro's prisons.

Before a room filled with Jews, Muslims, Catholics, Mormons and atheists, he stood up from his wheelchair and spoke of how mankind must remain always vigilant to defend freedom of conscience for all people.

On receiving the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986, Wiesel wrote:

“A recollection. The time: After the war. The place: Paris. A young man struggles to readjust to life. His mother, his father, his small sister are gone. He is alone. On the verge of despair. And yet he does not give up. On the contrary, he strives to find a place among the living. He acquires a new language. He makes a few friends who, like himself, believe that the memory of evil will serve as a shield against evil; that the memory of death will serve as a shield against death.”

If it be so, it will be so because Elie Wiesel lives.