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Recibimos este texto:
 Oriana Fallaci on anti-Semitism
(April 12, 2002) Corriere della Sera
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
swastika, 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 a! nti-Semitism, 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 no! ted 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 exhorts 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 who
speaks 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 Leo Valiani, by Emilio
Sereni, by women like my friend Anna Mar! ia 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, dishone! st, 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 Khaddafi
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 thi! s 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 exterminate! d a
second time. And disgusted by the Anti-Semitism 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.
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