Learning to Learn From Auschwitz : A SEASON FOR HEALING : Reflections on the Holocaust <i> by Anne Roiphe (Summit Books: $17.95; 187 pp.) </i>

Brave, tactful and deeply thoughtful, Anne Roiphe’s extended essay on the Holocaust nevertheless seems destined to arouse strong passions, if only because most of her readers will inevitably be those acutely sensitized to the subject. In her modest opening disclaimer, Roiphe states that she is neither a survivor nor the child of a survivor; not a historian, a political scientist or a theologian--but only a journalist profoundly concerned with humanity’s future. “I understand that this is an awesome subject and like an anti-Icarus, this journalist may be flying too close to the dark.” She’s to be congratulated for taking a risk American Jewish writers tend to avoid; for daring to suggest that it may be time to consider the 6 million dead in the larger context of the 100 million murdered in the bloody course of this century. Quoting Richard Rubenstein’s book, “The Cunning of History,” she reminds us of the horrible paradox of modern life. “As fewer men have fallen prey to such natural ills as the plague and epidemic, the technology of human violence has taken up much of the slack.” The Holocaust was discriminatory, but brutality itself is an equal opportunity phenomenon, slaughtering without regard to race, creed or color. The difference, if there is a difference, is quantitative.

After a thorough examination of the evidence, Roiphe courageously concludes that it may be time to stop particularizing the Jewish experience and begin to generalize it, because to insist forever on its unique exclusivity deepens rifts among nations, religions and individuals. To admit that the monstrous lessons of the Holocaust have a universal application in no way diminishes the horror. In fact, that acknowledgement may be the first step toward a broader and deeper humanity. “It seems likely that anti-Semitism was simply the disguise mass murder wore in 1941-45” . . . (and in previous times and places that Roiphe takes care to list). Her essay, in fact, is intensely personal, a gradual and clearly painful rising above special interest, anguish and rage to the belief that the Holocaust “will become of use to all peoples in our common effort to stay the nuclear tide, the pollution tide, the bloodshed of religious wars and other threats we have not yet imagined but are sure to appear.”

In the process of making these points, Roiphe discusses Holocaust literature, fascinated by the universal acceptance of Anne Frank as symbol, not because her story is so tragic but because it is so bland. Anyone can appreciate “a young girl who has expressed the sentiment that the world is not guilty of incurable evil. . . . It is easier to like her than some male who might be seen as angry, threatening, or be tarred with other irrepressible viruses.” Like doomed Jenny in “Love Story,” Anne Frank fades gracefully away, still beautiful, still winsome; as romantic--and false--a picture of the Holocaust as that trifling novel was of leukemia. Anne Frank, Roiphe says, is our way of not facing what we know.

In addition to examining Jewish-Christian attitudes and Jewish-black relationships, the book also explores the tensions that underlie Jewish ideas about Poland, the Soviet Union and the Vatican. A well-meant attempt to comprehend the Soviet capriciousness about Jewish emigration to Israel is followed by an overview of the tragic impasse in the Middle East. In all instances, the Holocaust is seen as the immovable object withstanding irresistible force. Like any other barrier, it separates, divides and alienates those on either side. Gently, persuasively and optimistically, Roiphe implies that the wall should finally be allowed to crumble of its own weight so that the monumental stones can be used to build vital bridges.

By coincidence, I read this book the week of the great whale rescue, when several nations mobilized their wealth, compassion and ingenuity to save three trapped whales. Millions watched the effort on television and applauded its success, demonstrating that great reserves of altruism lie just beneath the surface of the same brittle shell that once allowed us to turn back the refugee ships and close our borders to the victims of the Holocaust; that now effectively insulates us from the pleas of homeless panhandlers on our city streets. Appearing 50 years after Kristallnacht , Roiphe’s book can be read as a reminder that humanity itself has become an endangered species.