“The tattooing has taken only seconds, but Lale’s shock makes time stand still. He grasps his arm, staring at the number. How can someone do this to another human being? He wonders if for the rest of his life, be it short or long, he will be defined by this moment, this irregular number: 32407.” 

Tattoos serve to replace the identities of prisoners of the concentration camps. They serve to individualize and deindividualize prisoners: each number is unique in its anonymity. Lale’s thoughts here are ironic. He will soon be the one tattooing others, defining the rest of their lives by the moment that their paths intersect.

Other prisoners never pick up a piece of wood or tile but instead walk casually around the compound on other business. His kapo is one such. How to get a job like that? Such a position would offer the best chance to find out what is going on in camp, what the plans are for Birkenau, and, more important, for him.”

Kapos were prisoners of the concentration camps who presided over other prisoners. They were often seen as turncoats by the other prisoners, betraying their fellows for personal safety and advancement. However, in an environment where one can often do nothing to save others, personal safety is paramount. What is more, Lale actually uses his eventual elevated status in the camp to help out his fellow prisoners. 

“‘Save one, save the world,’ Lale says quietly, more to himself than the others.” 

This expression is an important theme that runs through The Tattooist of Auschwitz. Lale recognizes in Victor’s charity an impulse to right the wrongs caused by the Nazis. While Victor and Yuri are complicit in building the death camps, that does not mean that they agree with the ideology of the Holocaust. Giving Lale a bit of sausage may be a small act, but it is an act of defiance and humanity in the face of great evil.