WoNereH on Fri, 19 Apr 2002 10:28:35 +0200 (CEST)

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<nettime> A European speaks far better than I:

On Jew-hatred in Europe
By Oriana Fallaci   
April 17, 2002
Originally published in Corriere della Sera. Translation by Chris and 

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 onceagain in the 
extermination camps, in the gas chambers, in the ovens of Dachau and 
Mauthausen and Buchenwald and Bergen-Belsen et cetera, would selltheir 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 Jerusalemwith 
an arsenal of arms and explosives hidden in the secret compartments of his 
sacred Mercedes, to participate in that procession and plant himself infront 
of a microphone to thank in the name of God the suicide bombers whomassacre 
the Jews in pizzerias and supermarkets. To call them "martyrs whogo to their 
deaths as to a party."

I find it shameful that in France, the France ofLiberty-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 olivebranch 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 machineguns and munitions and 
explosives (among them are various leaders of Hamasand 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 parishesor 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 blownup. 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. Since he's someone whospeaks English well, I'll 
respond to him in English: "Fuck you."

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 LeoValiani, 
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 
thethree-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 itshameful 
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 tothe 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 hateand 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 Palestinans 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. Withthem, children ten years 
of age. Poor children. (Now he trains them tobecome suicide bombers. A 
hundred baby suicide bombers are in the works: a hundred!). This weathercock 
who keeps his wife at Paris, served and reveredlike 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 thesame.

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, itis 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 

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