I believe that a writer is a whole person, with all of the good and the not so good, but his writing should be viewed on its own merits. Main Stream Media and the “critics” don’t agree.
Ian Buruma’s views about Gunter Grass’ recent admissions
“History, or, to be more precise, the history we Germans have repeatedly mucked up, is a clogged toilet,” the narrator in Günter Grass’s most recent novel, “Crabwalk,” says. “We flush and flush, but the shit keeps rising.” Now the author, a Nobel laureate widely regarded as “the conscience of Germany”—a man who has regularly sermonized against the forces of reaction and the corruptions of power—is up to his neck in it himself.
Just last month, Grass revealed something that he had been keeping to himself during half a century in public life: that he was once a member of the Waffen-S.S. Grass, who was born in 1927, never pretended to have escaped the war unstained. He was open about the fact that, along with many Germans of his generation, he went through the usual ranks: the Jungvolk, the Hitler Youth, the Labor Front, and then the Army. Like most, though not all, of his cohort, he believed that his Führer would achieve a glorious victory, even as Soviet troops and Allied bombers were laying waste to the Third Reich. Many former Hitler Youths, still teen-agers at the time of defeat, were drafted into ragtag units operating anti-aircraft guns. As far as his readers knew, Grass had been one of them.
In a new memoir, entitled “Beim Haüten der Zwiebel” (“Peeling the Onion”), published in Germany this month, Grass explains that the story was a little more complicated. He had volunteered to serve on a submarine, but by late 1944 the Army was running out of men, and so he ended up in the Waffen-S.S., the military arm of Himmler’s élite corps, which had come to be absorbed into the regular German Army. The Jörg von Frundsberg tank division, in which he served, was fighting a disastrous rearguard action against Soviet troops, who killed most of the old men and boys serving with Grass. He was very lucky to have survived.
The surprise is not that he served in such a unit; it’s that he covered up the fact. In a recent television interview, Grass tried to explain why it had taken him so long to tell the truth—not a trivial question, since the Germans’ difficulties in facing the truth have been a constant theme of his literary and political life. “It weighed on me,” he said. “My silence through all those years is one of the reasons I wrote this book. It had to get out, at last.”