Remarks at the UN NGO Briefing January 26, 2006, as part of the International Day of Holocaust Remembrance (See: http://www.un.org/dpi/ngosection/index.asp)
Remembrance, Vigilance, and Beyond
By: Judea Pearl
Thank you Mr. Sommereyns, Ambassador Gillerman, Distinguished
guests, ladies and gentlemen,
On this solemn day of remembrance for the victims of the Holocaust,
I am grateful for the opportunity to highlight the memory of my
grandparents, who perished in Auschwitz in 1942, and that of my son,
Daniel Pearl, who was murdered 60 years later, in Karachi, Pakistan.
Situated thousands of miles apart, and executed under totally
different circumstances, by people of a different faith, language and
purpose, the two murders nevertheless illuminate each other as well as
the topic under discussion.
.
Four years ago, almost to the day, in a desolate dungeon in Karachi,
Pakistan, my son Danny was looking in the eye of evil, and proclaiming
his identity.
Forced to appear before his captor's video camera, he said with pride:
"My name is Daniel Pearl,"
"I am a Jewish American from Encino, California."...
"My father is Jewish, my mother is Jewish, I am Jewish."
I doubt whether my grandparents were ever asked to state their
Jewishness -- the Nazis did not need such confirmation.
Yet Danny, I am sure, had a special message to convey in those words.
I know that when Danny said "I am Jewish," what he was trying to tell
his captors was: "I respect Islam precisely because I am Jewish, and
I expect you to respect me and my faith precisely because you are, or
claim to be good Muslims."
"In other words, I come from a place where one's heritage is the
source of one's strength, and strength is measured by one's capacity
to accommodate diversity, because it is only through diversity that '
we recognize our common humanity."
'I am Jewish' was his way of saying: "I understand suffering, because
the suffering of my ancestors is etched on my consciousness,
and I understand Muslims' suffering as well, for I have seen your
people in Kosovo, I have worked with your carpet weavers in Iran, and
I have sung with your pearl divers in Qatar."
Indeed, he was a journalist who gave voice to millions of voiceless
Muslims, from Iran to Yemen, from Sudan to Pakistan, and gave Western
readers a glimpse of the human faces behind the news.
He walked, laughed and cried with those he met -- at home in the world.
So I believe that when Danny uttered his final words, 'I am Jewish' he
was telling the world: "I am reminding you of the challenge of
understanding others."
"'I am Jewish' means I proclaim my right to be who I am and I remind
you, as did my ancestors for 3 millennia, of the shining dignity of
being different.
'I am Jewish' means I am the litmus test of your faith and the fire
test of your strength. Let's come to our senses.!"
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And as he stood there, demanding sanity in the face of madness, that
dark dungeon in Karachi turned into a localized micro-cosmos that both
personified and magnified the age-old struggle between inclusiveness
and exclusiveness, humanity and savagery, between his
great-grandparents and their Nazi executioners, civilization and
barbarity, between Able and Cain.
The goodness of Danny's smile, the principles by which he lived and the
sound of his last words then became an icon that personally awakened
millions of people around the world who realized that the hatred that
took his life threatens the very fabric of civilized society, and
that, political correctness aside, we are in the midst of a profound
clash of societies, cultures, if not civilizations -- a
clash not along conventional East-West divides, nor along national or
religious boundaries, but between those who pride themselves on killing
innocents to transmit political messages, and those who are appalled
by such acts.
Danny's last words, "I am Jewish", thus assume a universal dimension,
and have come to symbolize the freedom of every individual to assert
his faith, heritage and identity.
Like the diary of Anne Frank in the 1950s, these three simple words
have inspired young people of all denominations to re-study the
anatomy of anti-Semitism, to take pride in their heritage, to reflect
on the consequences of fanaticism, and to stand up for tolerance and
humanity everywhere.
These words ring today as a majestic poem to the freedom of the human
spirit and its amazing capacity to weave together the dignity of being
different with the sanctity of being ONE.
-------------------*----------------------
I was invited to speak in this forum because it is generally
recognized that the forces that killed Danny are of the same species as
those that killed my grandparents in the holocaust.
Both are products of the same disease -- the de-humanization of
"the other". And both were fueled by unabated incitement, thriving
on the silence of the enlightened world,
Danny's tragedy reminds us that these forces did not die in 1945;
they are dangerously active today, and must be fought by education,
dialogue, vigilance and timely response.
To this end, The Daniel Pearl Foundation was created to promote
cross-cultural understanding using Danny's three major vocations:
Journalism, Music and Dialogue
The Foundation brings Muslim journalists on fellowships to work at U.S.
newspapers; it trains hundreds of high-school students in the art of
balanced and objective international reporting; it brings together
hundreds of musical concerts worldwide to promote inter-cultural
respect, and it sponsors public dialogues between Jews and Muslims
to explore common-grounds and air grievances.
Our power lies not in resources but in a symbol, a face of a person who
earned respect on both sides of the East-West divide, a face that is
instantly recognized the world over as an icon of peace. And
what makes such a humble symbol so powerful is that, unfortunately,
the world is in dire need of such icons.
It is a symbol that reminds Jews of the rise of post-modern
anti-Semitism.
It is a symbol that reminds Muslims of their own struggle against
terrorism and fanaticism;
a symbol that reminds Jews of their heritage, pride and identity;
a symbol that reminds Americans and Westerners of their
traditional values, and to journalists of their commitment to truth and
fairness.
Danny speaks to all of us; he is a symbol that reminds people all over
the world of their common humanity.
The Foundation's activities are inspired by this symbol.
------------------------*-------------------------
However, are these activities enough?
Can these concerts, projects and dialogues prevent another murder,
another atrocity, or another genocide?
As I stand here before you, I represent three generations scarred by
hate-based murders.
My grandparents perished in a genocide that WAS.
I narrowly escaped a genocide that was MEANT TO BE (and failed in 1948),
and Danny, my son, fell victim to the murderous terrorism the world
faces today, which targets people for what they represent, not
what they are.
Remembrance is a call for vigilance. But remembrance in silence, even a
vigilant one, betrays those who we remember.
Silence permits genocidal forces to advance and strengthen their
position to launch another, yet deadlier assault.
Remembrance is a safeguard only if accompanied by vigilance and
timely action.
For example, today the President of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, is both
building a nuclear arsenal and proclaiming he wants to wipe Israel off
the map. Many around the world treat his words as much more than
the wild statements of a politician, but as a very real threat
of a new genocide, aspired by masses of people whom Ahmadinejad
attempts to court.
Here, the United Nations has a crucial role to play, by addressing
the root cause of these genocidal aspirations.
It might come as a surprise to some of you, but after a century of
bloodshed, several peace agreements, many negotiations and interfaith
dialogues, and countless UN-funded cultural programs, the majority of
Muslims today still reject the idea that Jews deserve a state in some
part of Palestine. Instead, Muslims perceive Israel to be a temporary
outpost of Western colonialism, hastily created out of guilt or greed.
Indeed, to the best of my knowledge, no Arab leader has ever
acknowledged that the biblical landscape is the historical homeland of
the Jewish people, hence, that Israelis and Palestinians both have
legitimate claims over this landscape.
This rejectionist ideology, which I have dubbed "Zionophobia"
(to mirror the popular term "Islamophobia"), has crippled the
peace camps in Israel and Palestine, and has provided the fuel and
intellectual basis for a constant stream of violence and genocidal
designs such as that expressed by Ahmadinejad.
Current UN educational programs, aiming to combat intolerance,
religious prejudice, bigotry and anti-Semitism must include
specific efforts to address the evils of Zionophobia, an
ideology that condemns five and a half million human beings to
eternal statelessness, if not genocide.
Sadly, current outreach programs deal exclusively with the right of an
individual to live as an equal member of society, but neglect the
right of a society (in this case, the State of Israel) to live as
equal member in the family of nations.
If the UN is to lend its moral weight and educational resources to the
prevention of genocide, it must devote serious efforts toward reversing
the Zionophobic culture that is rampant in the Muslim world -- just as
it must do more to curb all forms of racism including Xenophobia and
Islamophobia.
The theme of our DPI-NGO briefing is "promoting tolerance and cross-cultural
communication to help prevent future acts of genocide." Yet, the very
descendants and relatives of the victims of the Holocaust we honor
here at the UN today, are now being threatened with genocide. They
deserve protection of a special kind -- tolerance and respect for
their ties to the birth-place of their history, the same tolerance and
respect we should extend to the Palestinians.
The UN should lead the way toward providing this protection. The
memory of six million Jewish victims of the Holocaust, abandoned by
the international community and denied this protection cries out to
us to take this lead.
And the murder of one man, my son, by the same forces of intolerance
demonstrates the challenges we face as we strive for a society based on
mutual-respect and love of all peoples.
Thank you very much.
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