In April 1975, Simon Wiesenthal, the Holocaust survivor whose efforts to track down Nazi war criminals had earned him the title of “Nazi hunter”, wrote a letter to Albert Speer, the Nazi war criminal. Wiesenthal thanked him for a psychology book Speer had sent him, and forwarded a copy of the French edition of his own memoir. Their decade-long correspondence also includes holiday postcards and birthday wishes. It ends with a personal note from Speer’s widow Margarete on her husband’s death in 1981, telling Wiesenthal how important their friendship had been to him.
Wiesenthal’s friendship was a private echo of the extraordinarily warm international welcome that Speer received as a public intellectual after his release from Spandau prison in 1966. Speer had served as minister of armaments in wartime Nazi Germany, and was found guilty of crimes against humanity; yet when he died, he was in London to promote his new book on the BBC.
Speer’s rehabilitation was a masterpiece in duplicity. In his defence at the Nürenberg trials – and in later books and interviews – he was the only high-ranking official to take on full responsibility for the Nazi crimes; and this seeming moral clarity allowed him to credibly lie that he had not known about the extermination camps. The evidence for that would emerge only after his death, prompting Wiesenthal, among many others, to admit he had been duped. Until then, the lie allowed Speer to become an authority on the endlessly fascinating topic of Adolf Hitler’s personality and psyche.