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The Rebbe's Communiqué to the Founder of Logotherapy
As Told by Jacob Biderman, Chabad Shliach in Vienna, Austria
Dr. Viktor Frankl (1905-1997), a Viennese psychotherapist,
spent three long years in Hitler’s concentration camps
– and lost his parents, brother, and pregnant wife to
the “Final Solution” – but did not lose
his vision of human dignity.
In the first half of his best-selling book, “Man’s
Search for Meaning,” he describes his harrowing experience
in the camps and considers how it was that some of the inmates
seemed to be able to transcend their surroundings. He writes:
“We who lived in concentration camps can remember the
men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving
away their last piece of bread . . . they offer sufficient
proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing:
the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s
attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s
own way.”
He concludes that even in the most severe suffering,
the human being can find meaning and thus hope. In his words,
“Those who have a ‘why’ to live, can bear
with almost any ‘how.’”
After the war, Frankl returned to Vienna, where he developed
and lectured about his own approach to psychological healing.
He believed that people are primarily driven by a “striving
to find meaning in one’s life,” and that it is
this sense of meaning that enables us to overcome painful
experiences. In the second half of his book, Frankl outlines
the form of psychotherapy that he developed based on these
beliefs, called logotherapy—the treatment of emotional
pain by helping people find meaning in their lives.
More about Viktor Frankl, and the impact he had in the
area of mental health, later in this article.
I arrived in Vienna together with my wife, Edla –
in 1981, to serve as Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries in Austria.
We immediately started serving the local Jewish community
by arranging Torah classes for children, programs for adults
and youth, and the like.
We were aware that the famous Dr. Viktor Frankl resided in
the city, but as he never associated with the Jewish community
in Vienna, we did not have the opportunity to make his acquaintance.
He certainly never stepped foot in the Chabad center we established.
How surprised we were when Dr. Frankl responded with a contribution
to our annual appeal, which we sent out to all the local Jews
along with a Jewish calendar in honor of the upcoming High
Holidays. He continued this practice every year thereafter—I
never met him or spoke to him, but his donation always came.
We did not understand, until one day in 1995 when all became
clear. It started with a visit I received from a youthful,
energetic 85-year-old woman, who introduced herself as Marguerite
Chajes.
"Perhaps you think you are the first emissary of the
Lubavitcher Rebbe to Vienna," Marguerite told me, "but
that is not entirely the case. You see, I performed an important
mission here on the Rebbe's behalf long before you arrived
in Austria."
Marguerite Chajes
Her mother's maiden name was Hager. The Hagers were no ordinary
Jewish family but relatives of the Rebbes of the famed Vishnitz
chassidic dynasty. Marguerite was born in Chernowitz, but
spent her childhood in Vienna. Marguerite became an opera
singer; she married and had a daughter.
Just a few days before World War II, friends helped her escape,
together with her husband and daughter, across the border
to Italy, where they made it onto on the last boat to the
US. Marguerite and her family settled in Detroit. Unfortunately,
the rest of her family remained behind and perished.
Years passed. Marguerite's daughter grew up and married a
doctor, who, in 1959, was honored at the dinner of a Chabad
institution. In conjunction with that occasion, Marguerite
had an audience with the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem
Mendel Schneerson, of righteous memory.
"I cannot explain why," Marguerite said, "but
while in the Rebbe's room I suddenly broke down in tears.
I felt that it was fine to cry. The dam holding back my river
of tears gave way. Like many Holocaust survivors, I had never
cried before. If I were to start crying, I felt that I might
never stop... I always felt that I have to keep my emotions
in check in order to be able to function as a human being."
Marguerite told the Rebbe her entire life story. But more
than that, a special relationship was born that night in the
Rebbe's room in Brooklyn. Marguerite left that audience feeling
that she had been given a second father.
A Favor for the Rebbe
Marguerite had also mentioned to the Rebbe that for some
time now she had had a yearning to go back and visit her native
land. The Rebbe requested that in the event that she would
make such a trip, she should come see him again beforehand.
Not much thereafter, Marguerite scheduled a trip to Vienna,
and, of course, first came to the Rebbe to inform him of her
plan.
How surprised Marguerite was when the Rebbe asked her if
she could do for him a favor. The Rebbe wanted her to visit
two people in Vienna on his behalf. One of them was Dr. Viktor
Frankl, who headed the Vienna Policlinic of Neurology.
"Please send Dr. Frankl my regards. And pass the following
message on to him: that I said that he should be strong and
continue his work, with complete resolve. No matter what,
he should not give up. If he remains strong and committed,
he will certainly prevail."
Arranging a meeting with Frankl was no simple task. Arriving
at the clinic, she was told that the professor hadn't shown
up in two weeks. With effort, though, Marguerite found Frankl's
home address and made her way there. Marguerite knocked on
the door, and it was opened by a woman. The first thing she
caught sight of in the home was a cross, hanging prominently
on the wall. (In 1947 Frankl married his second wife, Eleonore
Katharina Schwindt, a devout Catholic.) Taken aback, and already
wondering whether this was a mistake, if perhaps this wasn't
the person the Rebbe had wanted her to visit, she nevertheless
asked whether there was a Herr Professor Frankl in the house.
Marguerite was asked to wait. Minutes later, a slightly annoyed-looking
and apparently uninterested Dr. Frankl appeared. Marguerite,
feeling very self-conscious, told him that she had regards
for him "from Rabbi Schneerson of Brooklyn, New York."
Marguerite steeled herself and continued: "Rabbi Schneerson,
known as the Lubavitcher Rebbe, sent a message for you: Remain
strong! Continue your work with complete resolve. Don't give
up. Ultimately you will prevail."
The hitherto apathetic doctor suddenly transformed before
a shocked Marguerite's eyes. Tears filled his eyes. After
composing himself somewhat he thanked Marguerite, and in the
course of the ensuing conversation he told her that he had
been planning to abandon his efforts to fight on behalf of
his theory and philosophy, and actually was considering departing
Vienna—but now he would reconsider...
"So Rabbi Biderman," Marguerite concluded, "now
you understand what I meant when I said that I served as the
Rebbe's emissary to Vienna way before you arrived!"
The Other Side of the Story
Marguerite's story fascinated me. What had the Rebbe's message
meant to Viktor Frankl?
What I had not known beforehand, but what Marguerite now
explained, is that Frankl had not always been lauded and respected,
as he is today. In his youth, Frankl had been a young colleague
of Sigmund Freud and Alfred Adler. But his beliefs challenged
their teachings. Whereas the dominant view at the time was
that people are driven by the need to gratify physical needs,
a "will to pleasure," he saw humankind differently.
In Frankl's view, we are unique beings, driven by a "will
to meaning," possessing free choice and the capacity
for self-transcendence. "Between stimulus and response
. . . is our power to choose our response. In our response
lies our growth and our freedom."
Frankl had begun to develop these radical ideas before the
war and during his time in the Nazi death camps, seeing how
some prisoners were able to eke out a sense of purpose and
maintain a positive outlook even there, he had solidified
them. Now he found himself a lone dissenter. All around him
were loyal Freudian scholars. He was taunted, and his lectures
were shunned.
Understandably, Frankl experienced incredible emotional turmoil.
The pressures were so great that he decided to simply give
up. He decided to move to Australia, to join his sister who
lived there. He was emotionally spent, and understandably
dejected at the prospect of his life's work going to waste.
When Margaret Chajes arrived at Frankl's home, she told me,
he had been sitting and drafting his immigration papers. She
brought him a message from a Rebbe, a young chassidic master
from overseas he'd never heard of before. "Don't give
up," she told him. "You will prevail."
Frankl was beyond astonished. How in the world did this Rebbe
know about his situation? And why should this chassidic rebbe
care about him or the perpetuation of his philosophy?
It was exactly the shot in the arm that Frankl needed, and
the timing could not have been better. Instead of joining
his sister in Australia, he continued his practice as a psychiatrist
and went back to his work, full of renewed motivation, vigor,
and optimism.
A Corroborating Conversation
Marguerite's story certainly explained the annual contribution
that Frankl would send to support the Rebbe's institutions
in Vienna. And hearing the story stirred me to contact Dr.
Frankl himself, thinking perhaps he'd have something to add.
A few days later, I called Frankl and asked to meet him..
But it was difficult for him to meet me in person. This was
1995, you must understand, and Viktor Frankl was 90 years
of age. So we spoke over the phone. "Do you remember
Marguerite Chajes?" I asked. Naturally he did; she had
become a friend of the family.
Throughout this short conversation, however, Frankl sounded
impatient.
"Do you remember a regards she gave you from Rabbi Schneerson
in Brooklyn?" I asked him.
A change in his demeanor. Now Frankl responded warmly: "Ah...
of course! Can I ever forget it? The Rabbi came to my aid
during a very difficult time in my life. I owe him a tremendous
debt of gratitude!"
The Pursuit of Meaning Comes into Vogue
What, indeed, was the result of Marguerite's mission?
Well, it was soon after that, in 1959, that Frankl's book,
"Man's Search for Meaning" (see sidebar), was translated
into English (at first it was translated under a different
title), became a bestseller and classic psychiatric text,
and propelled him into the international limelight. Frankl
became a guest lecturer at universities on five continents.
He received honorary doctorates from universities around the
world, and national and international awards and medals for
his pivotal work in psychotherapy. Before his death in 1997,
his magnum opus had been translated into dozens of languages
and sold millions of copies.
His brand of therapy inspired thousands of other books, seminars,
workshops, new-age and spiritual groups, all based on Frankl's
idea of the human being's unique ability to make choices and
pursue his own meaning. From Scot Peck's "Road Less Traveled"
to Steven Covey's "Seven Habits," and hundreds of
other bestsellers during the last 30 years, all are variations
of Viktor Frankl's perspective.
So many millions of people benefited – directly or
indirectly – from the Rebbe's communiqué to Dr.
Frankl. I sometimes shudder when I imagine what would have
occurred if not for that perfectly-timed message.
More Details Come to Light
Haddon Klingberg, author of When Life Calls Out To Us: the
love and lifework of Viktor and Elly Frankl, the only authorized
biography of Viktor and Eleonore ("Elly"), writes:
"...after his death I asked Elly if he actually made
these prayers every day. 'Absolutely. He never missed a day.
Every morning for more than fifty years. But nobody knew this.'
As they traveled the globe Viktor took the phylacteries with
them, and everywhere, every morning, he prayed. He uttered
memorized words of Jewish prayers and Psalms...
"(After Viktor died I saw his phylacteries for the first
time. Elly had placed them in the little cubicle with his
few simple possessions...)"
Indeed, Frankl's non-Jewish son-in-law confirmed this fact
to me: "My father-in-law would close himself off in a
room every day for a little while. Once I opened the door
and saw him with black boxes on his head and hand. He was
annoyed about my intruding on his privacy. When he was taken
to the hospital, however, his practice of putting on tefillin
became public."
* * *
I've often wondered why the Rebbe took an interest in the
success of Viktor Frankl, a secular and intermarried Jew,
and sought him out to offer encouragement and support. It
would seem that the Rebbe did this not only out of personal
concern for Frankl's welfare, but also in order to advance
a philosophy which he felt ultimately fosters belief in G-d,
a spiritual perspective, and good values. The fact that this
constitutes the real cure to a suffering soul is something
the Rebbe repeatedly taught us.
I can't help but marvel over the Rebbe's wide reach, broad-mindedness,
and remarkably visionary approach.
* * *
In a letter dated June 19, 1969 (3rd Tammuz, 5729), the Rebbe
writes (free translation):
…I would like to take this opportunity to add another
point, that the medical condition of ..... proves (if proof
is needed in this area) the awesome power of faith –
especially when applied and expressed in practical action,
community work, observance of mitzvot, etc. – to fortify
a person’s emotional tranquility minimizing and even
elimination of inner conflicts, as well as complaints one
may have to his surroundings, etc.
This is in spite the theory that faith and religion demand
the discipline to restrain and suppress natural instincts
and drives, and is, therefore, generally undesirable, and
particularly in the case of a person who requires treatment
for emotional issues.
I particularly took interest in the writing of Dr. Frankl
(from Vienna in this matter. To my surprise, however, his
approach has apparently not been appropriately disseminated
and appreciated. Although one can find numerous reasons as
to why his ideas are not widely accepted – including
the fact that is related to the personal lifestyle exemplified
by the treating doctor – nevertheless, the question
still remains…
Reprinted with permission from Chabad.org.
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