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The passageways lead to another harsh stone room with gray video monitors on which scenes of horror are narrated by offstage voices. German soldiers surround a hospital and throw newborn babies out of the upper windows. Men and women stripped of even artificial limbs go to the gas chamber while an avuncular SS colonel insists they will not be harmed. At the exit, the backlighted words of Simon Wiesenthal offer the museum's justification for re- creating such pain: ONLY KNOW THAT HOPE LIVES WHEN PEOPLE REMEMBER.
. Along with admirers, the Beit Hashoah already has critics. Muslim organizations charge that the museum ignores the plight of Palestinians. New York Times senior writer Judith Miller, author of One, by One, by One: Facing the Holocaust, accuses the museum of "vulgarization," noting that some Jewish scholars consider the "sound and light" approach disrespectful.
One advantage of all the high-tech gimmickry, though, is that it will attract young people. "If you can communicate to a bright 17-year-old, you have communicated to everyone," says director Gerald Margolis. Without question, the museum's overall message comes through clearly. At the end of the tolerance exhibits, the host provocateur appears one last time. "That's it," he says, peering from behind a mask out of a big bank of monitors. "I am giving up all responsibility." The screens then dissolve into the words WHO IS RESPONSIBLE? YOU ARE!