SS paramilitary death squads were called Einsatzgruppen, a word that literally translates to “special-duty groups.” This dignified term feels at odds with the horrific acts of violence that these troops committed, an irony that Keneally explains:
Six Einsatzgruppen had come to Poland with the invading army. Their name had subtle meanings. “Special-duty groups” is a close translation. But the amorphous word Einsatz was also rich with a nuance—of challenge, of picking up a gauntlet, of knightliness. […] In the high rhetoric of their leaders, the Einsatz soldiers knew, a struggle for national existence meant race warfare, just as Einsatz itself, Special Chivalrous Duty, meant the hot barrel of a gun.
Here, readers learn that the word Einsatzgruppen not only connotes prestige through its literal translation “special-duty,” but also chivalry through its nebulous association with “knightliness.” This linguistic detail stands in chilling contradiction to the brutal, merciless violence carried out by these particularly monstrous soldiers, who were directly responsible for the mass murder of innocent Jews. In this way, situational irony points to the paradoxical ideology of the Nazi party, which claimed to promote the advancement of civilization even as it dehumanized, tortured, and murdered a huge subset of its own citizenry.
When rumors begin to circulate that a ghetto will be created in Cracow, some Polish Jewish people welcome the prospect of segregation. In a cruel twist of dramatic irony, they believe the ghetto will offer them protection:
[…] Oskar began to get hints from his SS contacts at Pomorska Street that there was to be a ghetto for Jews. He mentioned the rumor to Stern, not wanting to arouse alarm. Oh, yes, said Stern, the word was out. Some people were even looking forward to it. We’ll be inside, the enemy will be outside. We can run our own affairs. No one will envy us, no one stone us in the streets. The walls of the ghetto will be fixed. The walls would be the final, fixed form of the catastrophe.
Stern’s assertion that some Jewish people were “looking forward” to the creation of a ghetto in Cracow is bitterly ironic given most readers’ historical knowledge of the Holocaust, the progression of which is also foreshadowed in the novel’s prologue. Although some people naively hope the ghetto will shield them from persecution, readers know in actuality it will serve as a stepping stone to even more brutal harms, specifically the creation of the Płaszów concentration camp. The word “final” feels particularly chilling here, given how it echoes the Final Solution, the name for the Nazi’s plan for the genocide of all Jews, of which segregation into ghettoes was a relatively early step.
In an instance of situational irony, the Cracow ghetto is liquidated on Shabbat, a day reserved for rest and celebration in the Jewish faith:
On the ghetto’s last morning—a Shabbat, as it happened, March 13—Amon Goeth arrived in Plac Zgody, Peace Square, at an hour which officially preceded dawn. Low clouds obscured any sharp distinctions between night and day.
Whether or not the Nazis intended this cruel contradiction is unclear. Either way, however, situational irony highlights how the regime attempted to dehumanize Jewish people by robbing them not only of physical safety, but also of the ability to practice and protect the sanctity of their faith. Note, also, the dissonance of the name "Plac Zgody," which literally translates to "Peace Square," with what unfolds from this meeting place, which is anything but peaceful. Many Jewish residents of Cracow are murdered on the spot, while others are transferred to the Płaszów concentration camp.
Instead of a restorative, contemplative day of ceremony, March 13 is an occasion marked by brutal, merciless violence. The ghetto descends into utter chaos, a reality foreshadowed by the "low clouds" that blur the boundaries "between night and day." Indeed, the liquidation can be seen as a kind of metaphorical night looming at what should be sunrise; the impending threat of violence casts a dark shadow over what should be a bright, joyous day.
In general, the Jewish people under Schindler's protection receive more humane treatment than those imprisoned elsewhere. Ironically, there are moments when this favorable treatment actually places them in danger:
Oskar did not seem to realize that throughout Poland that summer of 1943, he was one of the champion illicit feeders of prisoners; that the malign pall of hunger which should by SS policy hang over the great death factories and over every one of the little, barbed-wired forced-labor slums was lacking in Lipowa Street in a way that was dangerously visible.
This passage describes how well-fed Schindler’s workers are compared to prisoners at other camps. This is largely because of Schindler's generosity—he has extra food shipped to Emalia on his own dime. While this seems like a purely positive thing, his prisoners’ good health actually poses a threat to their survival because it runs the risk of arousing SS suspicion.
This situational irony is yet another example of the importance of keeping up appearances; Schindler’s kindness is limited by the fact that he must appear to uphold the Nazi regime. Indeed, this ties directly into the larger contradiction at the heart of Schindler's story: that the many people he saved were, technically, his prisoners. Unable to safely set them free, he must work within the power structures of the Nazi bureaucracy to control and thereby protect them until the war’s end.
Henry Rosner, a Jewish musician Schindler comes to know in Cracow, is nearly prevented from going to Brinnlitz because of his violin. This is an example of situational irony because, thus far, Rosner's musical aptitude has kept him alive:
Henry Rosner lined up with the Schindler people, but an NCO spotted his violin and, knowing that Amon would require music should he be released from prison, sent Rosner back. Rosner then hid his violin under his coat, against his side, tucking the node of the sound post under his armpit. He lined up again and was let through to the Schindler cars. Rosner had been one of those to whom Oskar had made promises, and so had always been on the list.
During his imprisonment at Płaszów, Rosner and his brother often entertain the tyrannical commandant Amon Goeth with their music. Being in Goeth's favor is essential for survival; as Henry himself puts it, Goeth considers him and his brother "immune because of their musical talent." This immunity even extends to other members of their family. For example, Henry Rosner's sister-in-law is spared execution for smoking a cigarette when Goeth realizes to whom she's married.
It's ironic, then, that the very talent that once protected Rosner now threatens his transfer to Brinnlitz and thereby his survival. In this way, this passage displays the great power of a man’s whim. It’s almost absurd that Rosner would be detained just in case Goeth is released and desires musical entertainment. Likewise, it’s Schindler’s favor that gets him on the list for Brinnlitz at all, although this can perhaps be considered less a whim and more a sense of moral duty.
In an instance of situational irony, Schindler escapes to freedom after the war by disguising himself as a prisoner:
For the rite of passing over this expensive key to Bankier, Oskar was dressed in prisoner’s stripes, as was his wife, Emilie. The reversal toward which he’d been working since the early days of DEF was visibly complete. When he appeared in the courtyard to say goodbye, everyone thought it a lightly put on disguise, which would be lightly taken off again once he encountered the Americans. The wearing of the coarse cloth was, however, an act that would never completely be laughed off. He would in a most thorough sense always remain a hostage to Brinnlitz and Emalia.
In this scene, Oskar and Emilie Schindler prepare to leave Brinnlitz for a safer destination elsewhere in Poland. Because the Allies have won the war, Nazis are now a target. Because of this power reversal, it's safer for Schindler and his wife to travel in prisoners' clothes. This situational irony shows the importance of appearances in maintaining power and security. During the war, Schindler survived by distinguishing himself from his prisoners and appealing to his fellow Germans through bribery and friendship. Afterward, he escapes by blending in with the formerly imprisoned and distancing himself from his German affiliations.