It is one of history’s most haunting paradoxes that from humanity’s darkest abyss there should emerge a philosophy so luminous, so redemptive, that it could light the way forward for millions.
Viktor Frankl, an Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist, passed through that abyss—its name was Auschwitz—and from it, he brought back not only his life but a revelation.
Frankl did not merely survive the concentration camps; he transmuted that unspeakable suffering into something of enduring worth. His creation, logotherapy, was not a product of sterile academic inquiry—it was born in the crucible of hunger, despair, and death. The central premise of this approach is deceptively simple, almost audacious in its hope: that the will to find meaning is the primary driving force in man. And that even when every freedom is stripped away, this one remains—to choose how one responds to suffering.
What Frankl observed amid the horrors of Theresienstadt, Auschwitz, and Dachau was that those who endured were often those who could still grasp a purpose—be it a memory, a loved one, or a duty not yet fulfilled. He himself clung to the vision of lecturing again, of writing down the insights forged in this hell. And survive he did.
Upon returning to Vienna, he did not retreat into silence or bitterness. He wrote. He healed. He taught. His landmark book, Man’s Search for Meaning, remains among the most important texts of the 20th century—a slim volume that has reached into hospital rooms, prison cells, and quiet bedrooms, giving voice to those who suffer and hope to find something beyond the pain.
Frankl reminded us that dignity is not bestowed by circumstance; it is chosen. That life, in its most anguished moments, still poses a question—and the answer lies not in what happens to us, but in how we respond.
It’s easy to retreat into a cocoon of fear and depression these days. It’s much harder to determine how to respond in a meaningful, productive way. Frankl would challenge us to live with intention, to find purpose, and to rise—however falteringly—above despair.
As I talked with friends who participated in this past weekend’s Hands Off protest, the common thread was, “Didn’t we fight for these issues 60 years ago?”
May we never forget that the forces of evil are always with us. Every generation has the responsibility to remember our failures as a human race, to protect the afflicted, to lighten one-another’s burdens, to oppose prejudice without losing site of humanity.
Life will always present us with adversaries who would destroy the freedoms we often take for granted. We are required to define and declare our purpose, or be subjugated by the selfish.
Like Viktor Frankl, we must be more than survivors. We are stewards of the human spirit, who must find meaning in our darkest hours, and the strength of purpose to keep fighting.
The choice is ours.
