I was the accuser, God the accused. My eyes were open and I was alone—terribly alone in a world without God and without man.

This line is associated with Elie Wiesel’s Holocaust memoir *Night*, in which he recounts his imprisonment in Auschwitz and Buchenwald as a teenager. It reflects the spiritual crisis that intensifies as he witnesses mass suffering and the collapse of ordinary moral order. In the narrative, Wiesel describes moments when traditional religious faith—once central to his identity—becomes strained or inverted: instead of God judging humanity, the survivor feels compelled to judge God. The statement captures the isolation of a young prisoner whose former sources of meaning (community, family, and faith) have been violently stripped away.

The quote dramatizes a reversal of the covenantal relationship: the speaker becomes “the accuser,” placing God in the dock as “the accused.” It conveys not simple atheism but a moral protest—an insistence that the enormity of evil demands an accounting. The second sentence intensifies the existential aftermath of that protest: with faith shattered and human solidarity repeatedly violated, the world feels emptied of both divine presence and human reliability. Wiesel’s phrasing underscores how atrocity can produce a double abandonment—spiritual and social—leaving the survivor with lucid awareness (“my eyes were open”) and profound loneliness.