On antisemitism

Thursday May 30, 2002 11:18

by Oriana Fallaci

Oriana Fallaci, one of Italy's best know journalists, currently in retirement, expresses her feelings regarding the rising tide of Anti-Semitism in Europe. Oriana Fallaci on Antisemitism Today April 12, 2002 I find it shameful that in Italy there should be a procession of individuals dressed as suicide bombers who spew vile abuse at Israel, hold up photographs of Israeli leaders on whose foreheads they have drawn the swasitka, incite people to hate the Jews. And who, in order to see Jews once again in the extermination camps, in the gas chambers, in the ovens of Dachau and Mauthausen and Buchenwald and Bergen- Belsen et cetera, would sell their own mother to a harem. I find it shameful that the Catholic Church should permit a bishop, one with lodgings in the Vatican no less, a saintly man who was found in Jerusalem with an arsenal of arms and explosives hidden in the

Oriana Fallaci, one of Italy's best know journalists, currently in retirement, expresses her feelings regarding the rising tide of Anti-Semitism in Europe.

Oriana Fallaci on Antisemitism Today
April 12, 2002

I find it shameful that in Italy there should be a
procession of
individuals dressed as suicide bombers who spew vile
abuse at Israel, hold up photographs of Israeli
leaders on whose foreheads they have drawn the
swasitka, incite people to hate the Jews. And who, in
order to see Jews once again in the extermination
camps, in the gas chambers, in the ovens of Dachau and
Mauthausen and Buchenwald and Bergen- Belsen et
cetera, would sell their own mother to a harem.
I find it shameful that the Catholic Church should
permit a bishop, one
with lodgings in the Vatican no less, a saintly man
who was found in
Jerusalem with an arsenal of arms and explosives
hidden in the secret
compartments of his sacred Mercedes, to participate in
that procession and plant himself in front of a
microphone to thank in the name of God the suicide
bombers who massacre the Jews in pizzerias and
supermarkets. To call them "martyrs who go to their
deaths as to a party."
I find it shameful that in France, the France of
Liberty-Equality-Fraternity, they burn synagogues,
terrorize Jews,
profane their cemeteries. I find it shameful that the
youth of Holland and Germany and Denmark flaunt the
kaffiah just as Mussolini's avant garde used to flaunt
the club and the fascist badge. I find it shameful
that in nearly all the universities of Europe
Palestinian students sponsor and nurture
anti-semitism. That in Sweden they asked that the
Nobel Peace Prize given to Shimon Peres in 1994 be
taken back and conferred on the dove with the olive
branch in his mouth, that is on Arafat. I find it
shameful that the distinguished members of the
Committee, a Committee that (it would appear) rewards
political color rather than merit, should take this
request into consideration and even respond to it. In
hell the Nobel Prize honors he who does not receive
it.
I find it shameful (we're back in Italy) that
state-run television
stations contribute to the resurgent antisemitism,
crying only over Palestinian deaths while playing down
Israeli deaths, glossing over them in unwilling tones.
I find it shameful that in their debates they host
with much deference the scoundrels with turban or
kaffiah who yesterday sang hymns to the slaughter at
New York and today sing hymns to the slaughters at
Jerusalem, at Haifa, at Netanya, at Tel Aviv. I find
it shameful that the press does the same, that it is
indignant because Israeli tanks surround the Church of
the Nativity in Bethlehem, that it is not indignant
because inside that same church two hundred
Palestinian terrorists well armed with machine guns
and munitions and explosives (among them are various
leaders of Hamas and Al-Aqsa) are not unwelcome guests
of the monks (who then accept bottles of mineral water
and jars of honey from the soldiers of those tanks). I
find it shameful that, in giving the number of
Israelis killed since the beginning of the Second
Intifada (four hundred twelve), a noted daily
newspaper found it appropriate to underline in capital
letters that more people are killed in their traffic
accidents. (Six hundred a year).
I find it shameful that the Roman Observer, the
newspaper of the Pope-a
Pope who not long ago left in the Wailing Wall a
letter of apology for the Jews-accuses of
extermination a people who were exterminated in the
millions by Christians. By Europeans. I find it
shameful that this newspaper denies to the survivors
of that people (survivors who still have numbers
tattooed on their arms) the right to react, to defend
themselves, to not be exterminated again. I find it
shameful that in the name of Jesus Christ (a Jew
without whom they would all be unemployed), the
priests of our parishes or Social Centers or whatever
they are flirt with the assassins of those in
Jerusalem who cannot go to eat a pizza or buy some
eggs without being blown up. I find it shameful that
they are on the side of the very ones who inaugurated
terrorism, killing us on airplanes, in airports, at
the Olympics, and who today entertain themselves by
killing western journalists.
By shooting them, abducting them, cutting their
throats, decapitating
them.
(There's someone in Italy who, since the appearance of
Anger and Pride,
would like to do the same to me. Citing verses of the
Koran he exorts
his "brothers" in the mosques and the Islamic
Community to chastise me in the name of Allah. To kill
me. Or rather to die with me.
I find it shameful that almost all of the left, the
left that twenty
years ago permitted one of its union processionals to
deposit a coffin (as a mafioso warning) in front of
the synagogue of Rome, forgets the
contribution made by the Jews to the fight against
fascism. Made by Carlo and Nello Rossini, for example,
by Leone Ginzburg, by Umberto Terracini, by Leo
Valiani, by Emilio Sereni, by women like my friend
Anna Maria Enriques Agnoletti who was shot at Florence
on June 12, 1944, by seventy-five of the
three-hundred-thirty-five people killed at the Fosse
Ardeatine, by the infinite others killed under torture
or in combat or before firing squads.
(The companions, the teachers, of my infancy and my
youth.) I find it
shameful that in part through the fault of the left-or
rather,
primarily through the fault of the left (think of the
left that inaugurates its congresses applauding the
representative of the PLO, leader in Italy of the
Palestinians who want the destruction of Israel)--Jews
in Italian cities are once again afraid. And in French
cities and Dutch cities and Danish cities and German
cities, it is the same. I find it shameful that Jews
tremble at the passage of the scoundrels dressed like
suicide bombers just as they trembled during
Krystallnacht, the night in which Hitler gave free
rein to the Hunt of the Jews.
I find it shameful that in obedience to the stupid,
vile, dishonest,
and for them extremely advantageous fashion of
Political Correctness the usual opportunists-or better
the usual parasites-exploit the word Peace. That in
the name of the word Peace, by now more debauched than
the words Love and Humanity, they absolve one side
alone of its hate and bestiality. That in the name of
a pacifism (read conformism) delegated to the singing
crickets and buffoons who used to lick Pol Pot's feet
they incite people who are confused or ingenuous or
intimidated. Trick them, corrupt them, carry them back
a half century to the time of the yellow star on the
coat. These charlatans who care about the Palestinians
as much as I care about the charlatans. That is not at
all.
I find it shameful that many Italians and many
Europeans have chosen as
their standard-bearer the gentleman (or so it is
polite to say) Arafat.
This nonentity who thanks to the money of the Saudi
Royal Family plays the Mussolini ad perpetuum and in
his megalomania believes he will pass
into History as the George Washington of Palestine.
This ungrammatical
wretch who when I interviewed him was unable even to
put together a complete sentence, to make articulate
conversation. So that to put it all together, write
it, publish it, cost me a tremendous effort and I
concluded that compared to him even Ghaddafi sounds
like Leonardo da Vinci. This false warrior who always
goes around in uniform like Pinochet, never putting on
civilian garb, and yet despite this has never
participated in a battle. War is something he sends,
has always sent, others to do for him. That is, the
poor souls who believe in him. This pompous
incompetent who playing the part of Head of State
caused the failure of the Camp David negotiations,
Clinton's mediation.
No-no-I-want-Jerusalem-all-to-myself. This eternal
liar who has a flash of sincerity only when (in
private) he denies Israel's right to exist, and who as
I say in my book contradicts himself every five
minutes. He always plays the double-cross, lies even
if you ask him what time it is, so that you can never
trust him. Never! With him you will always wind up
systematically betrayed. This eternal terrorist who
knows only how to be a terrorist (while keeping
himself safe) and who during the Seventies, that is
when I interviewed him, even trained the terrorists of
Baader-Meinhof. With them, children ten years of age.
Poor children. (Now he trains them to become suicide
bombers. A hundred baby suicide bombers are in the
works: a hundred!). This weathercock who keeps his
wife at Paris, served and
revered like a queen, and keeps his people down in the
shit. He takes them out of the shit only to send them
to die, to kill and to die, like the eighteen year old
girls who in order to earn equality with men have to
strap on explosives and disintegrate with their
victims. And yet many Italians love him, yes. Just
like they loved Mussolini. And many other Europeans do
the same.
I find it shameful and see in all this the rise of a
new fascism, a new
nazism. A fascism, a nazism, that much more grim and
revolting because
it is conducted and nourished by those who
hypocritically pose as do-gooders, progressives,
communists, pacifists, Catholics or rather Christians,
and who have the gall to label a warmonger anyone like
me who screams the truth.
I see it, yes, and I say the following. I have never
been tender with
the tragic and Shakespearean figure Sharon. ("I know
you've come to add
another scalp to your necklace," he murmured almost
with sadness when I went to interview him in 1982.) I
have often had disagreements with the
Israelis, ugly ones, and in the past I have defended
the Palestinians a great deal.
Maybe more than they deserved. But I stand with
Israel, I stand with
the Jews. I stand just as I stood as a young girl
during the time when I
fought with them, and when the Anna Marias were shot.
I defend their right to exist, to defend themselves,
to not let themselves be exterminated a second time.
And disgusted by the antisemitism of many Italians, of
many Europeans, I am ashamed of this shame that
dishonors my Country and Europe. At best, it is not a
community of States, but a pit of Pontius Pilates. And
even if all the inhabitants of this planet were to
think otherwise, I would continue to think so.