Rabin’s Speeches
The nation was exalted and many wept when they
heard of the capture of the Old City. Our Sabra youth, and certainly our
soldiers, have no taste for sentimentality and shrink from any public show of
emotion. In this instance, however, the strain of battle and the anxiety which
proceeded it joined with the sense of deliverance, the sense of standing at the
very heart of Jewish history, to break the shell of hardness and diffidence,
stirring up springs of feelings and spiritual discovery. The paratroopers who
conquered the Wall leaned on its stones and wept. It was an act which in its
symbolic meaning can have few parallels in the history of nations. We in the
army are not in the habit of speaking in high-flown language, but the
revelation at that hour at the Temple Mount, a profound truth manifesting
itself as if by lightning, overpowered customary constraints.
We say to you today in a loud and a clear voice:
Enough of blood and tears. Enough. We have no desire for revenge. We harbor no
hatred towards you. We, like you, are people people who want to build a home,
to plant a tree, to love, to live side by side with you in dignity, in empathy,
as human beings, as free men. We are today giving peace a chance, and saying
again to you: Enough. Let us pray that a day will come when we all will say:
Farewell to the arms.
The debate goes on: Who shapes the
face of history? - leaders or circumstances? My answer to you is: We all shape
the face of history. We, the people. We, the farmers behind our plows, the
teachers in our classrooms, the doctors saving lives, the scientists at our
computers, the workers on the assembly lines, the builders on our scaffolds.
We, the mothers blinking back tears as our sons are drafted into the army; we,
the fathers who stay awake at night worried and anxious for our children's
safety. We, Jews and Arabs. We, Israelis and Jordanians. We,
the people, we shape the face of history.
Leaders should clear the path, should show the
way, but the road itself must be paved by both peoples. I don't believe that we
would have reached this great moment without the desire for peace in the hearts
of both peoples; in the hearts of the soldiers and the intellectuals, in the
hearts of the farmers and of the lorry drivers who drive through the Arava
highways in Jordan and Israel, in the hearts of teachers and of the little
children. Both nations were determined that the great revolution in the Middle
East would take place in their generation.
At an age when most youngsters are struggling to
unravel the secrets of mathematics and the mysteries of the Bible; at an age
when first love blooms; at the tender age of sixteen, I was handed a rifle so
that I could defend myself. That was not my dream. I wanted to be a water
engineer. I studied in an agricultural school and I thought being a water
engineer was an important profession in the parched Middle East. I still think
so today. However, I was compelled to resort to the gun.
I have always believed that the majority of the
people want peace and are ready to take risks for peace. In coming here today,
you demonstrate, together with many others who did not come, that the people
truly desire peace and oppose violence. Violence erodes the basis of Israeli
democracy. It must be condemned and isolated. This is not the way of the State
of Israel. In a democracy there can be differences, but the final decision will
be taken in democratic elections, as the 1992 elections which gave us the
mandate to do what we are doing, and to continue on this course
Address by IDF Chief-of-Staff Lieut.-Gen. Yitzhak Rabin on Acceptance of
Honorary Doctorate from Hebrew University
Jerusalem, Mt. Scopus, June 1967
Mr.
President, Mr. Prime Minister, Mr. President of the Hebrew University, Mr.
Rector of the Hebrew University, Members of the Board of Governors, Ladies and
Gentlemen:
I am
filled with reverence as I stand here before the teachers of our generation in
this ancient, magnificent place overlooking our eternal capital and the sacred
sites of our nation's earliest history.
You have
chosen to do me the great honor of conferring upon me the degree of Doctor of
Philosophy, along with a number of distinguished persons who are doubtless
worthy of this honor. May I be allowed to speak the thoughts that are in my
heart?
I
consider myself to be here solely as the representative of the whole Israel
Defense Forces: of the thousands of officers and tens of thousands of soldiers
who brought the victory of the Six Day War to the State of Israel.
It may
well be asked why the University should have been moved to bestow upon me the
degree of honorary Doctor of Philosophy, upon a soldier in recognition of his
war services. What have soldiers to do with the academic world, which stands
for the life of civilization and culture? What have those who are
professionally occupied with violence to do with spiritual values? The answer,
I think, is that in this honor which you have conferred through me upon my
fellow soldiers you chose to express your appreciation of the special character
of the Israel Defense Forces, which is itself an expression of the
distinctiveness of the Jewish People as a whole.
The
world has recognized that the Israel Army is different from most other armies.
Though its first task, that of maintaining security, is indeed military, it
also assumes numerous tasks directed to the ends of peace. These are not
destructive, but constructive and are undertaken with the object of
strengthening the nation's cultural and moral resources. Our work in the field
of education is well known: it received national recognition in 1966 when the
army won the Israel Prize for Education. Nahal, which already combines military
duties with work on the land, also provides teachers for border villages, thus
contributing to the social development. These are only a few examples of the
special services of the Israel Defense Forces in this sphere.
Today,
however, the University is conferring on us an honorary degree not for these
things but in recognition of the army's moral and spiritual force as shown
precisely in active combat. For we are all here in this place only by virtue
that has astounded the world.
War is
intrinsically harsh and cruel, and blood and tears are its companions. But the
war we have just fought also brought forth marvelous examples of a rare courage
and heroism, and the most moving expressions of brotherhood, comradeship and
even spiritual greatness. Anyone who has not seen a tank crew continue its attack
even though its commander has been killed and its tank almost destroyed, who
has not watched sappers risking their lives to extricate wounded comrades from
a mine field, who has not witnessed the concern for a pilot who has fallen in
enemy territory and the unremitting efforts made by the whole Air Force to
rescue him, cannot know the meaning of devotion among comrades.
The
nation was exalted and many wept when they heard of the capture of the Old
City. Our Sabra youth, and certainly our soldiers, have no taste for
sentimentality and shrink from any public show of emotion. In this instance,
however, the strain of battle and the anxiety which proceeded it joined with
the sense of deliverance, the sense of standing at the very heart of Jewish
history, to break the shell of hardness and diffidence, stirring up springs of
feelings and spiritual discovery. The paratroopers who conquered the Wall
leaned on its stones and wept. It was an act which in its symbolic meaning can
have few parallels in the history of nations. We in the army are not in the
habit of speaking in high-flown language, but the revelation at that hour at
the Temple Mount, a profound truth manifesting itself as if by lightning,
overpowered customary constraints.
There is
more to tell. The elation of victory had seized the whole nation. Yet among the
soldiers themselves a curious phenomenon is to be observed. They cannot rejoice
wholeheartedly. Their triumph is marred by grief and shock, and there are some
who cannot rejoice at all. The men in the front lines saw with their own eyes
not only the glory of victory, but also its cost, their comrades fallen beside
them soaked in blood. And I know that the terrible price the enemy paid has
also deeply moved many of our men. Is it because their teaching, not their
experience, has ever habituated the Jewish people to exalt in conquest and
victory that they receive them with such mixed feelings?
The
heroism displayed in the Six Day War generally went far beyond that of the
single, daring assault in which a man hurls himself forward almost without
reflection. In many places there were long and desperate battles: in Rafah, in
El-Arish, in Um-Kal Um-Kataf, in Jerusalem and on the Golan Heights. In these
places, and in many others, our soldiers showed a heroism of the spirit and a
courage of endurance which inspired feelings of wonder and exaltation in those
who witnessed them. We speak a great deal of the few against the many. In this
war, perhaps for the first time, since the Arab invasions in the spring of 1948
and the battles of Negba and Degania, units of the Israel Defense Forces in
every sector stood few against many. Relatively small units entered long, deep
networks of fortifications, surrounded by hundreds and thousands of enemy
troops, through which they had to cut and cleave their way for many long hours.
They pressed on, even when the exhilarating momentum of the first charge had
passed, and all that was left to sustain them was their belief in our strength,
in the absence of any alternative, and in the end for which the war was being
fought, and the compelling need to summon up every resource of spiritual
strength to continue to fight to the end. Thus our armoured forces broke
through on all fronts, our paratroopers fought their way into Rafah and Jerusalem,
our sappers cleaned minefields under enemy fire. The units which penetrated the
enemy lines after hours of battle struggled on, refusing to stop, while their
comrades fell to the right and to the left of them. These units were carried
forward, not by arms or the techniques of war, but by the power of moral and
spiritual values.
We have
always insisted on having the best of our young people for the Israel Defense
Forces. When we said "Ha-tovim la-tayis ("the best for the Air
Force") and this became a standard for the whole army, we were not
referring only to technical skills and abilities. What we meant was that if our
Air Force was to be capable of defeating the forces of four enemy countries in
a few short hours, it could do so only if it were sustained by moral and human
values. Our airmen who struck the enemies' planes with such accuracy that no
one understands how it was done and the world seeks to explain it
technologically by reference to secret weapons; our armoured troops who stood
their ground and overcame the enemy even when their equipment was inferior to
his; our soldiers in all the several branches of the army who withstood our
enemies everywhere despite the superiority of their numbers and fortifications:
what they all showed was not only coolness and courage in battle but a
passionate faith in the justice of their cause, the certain knowledge that only
their personal, individual resistance against the greatest of dangers could
save their country and their families, and that the alternative to victory was
annihilation.
In every
sector our commanders of all ranks proved themselves superior to those of the
enemy. Their resourcefulness, their intelligence, their power of improvisation,
their concern for their troops, and above all, their practice in leading their
men into battle: these are not matters of technique or equipment. There is no
intelligible explanation except one -- their profound conviction that the war
they were fighting was a just one.
All
these things have their origin in the spirit and end in the spirit. Our
soldiers prevailed not by the strength of their weapons but by their sense of
mission, by their consciousness of the justice of their cause, by a deep love
of their country, and by their understanding of the heavy task laid upon them:
to insure the existence of our people in their homeland, and to affirm, even at
the cost of their lives, the right of the Jewish people to live its life in its
own state, free, independent and in peace.
The army
which I had the privilege of commanding through this war came from the people
and returns to the people: a people which rises above itself in time of crisis
and prevails over all enemies in the hour of trial by its moral and spiritual
strength.
As
representative of the Israel Defense Army and in the name of each and every one
of its soldiers, I accept your appreciation with pride.
Remarks by
Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin
On the Occasion of the Signing of the Israeli-Palestinian Declaration of Principles
Washington, September 13, 1993
On the Occasion of the Signing of the Israeli-Palestinian Declaration of Principles
Washington, September 13, 1993
Mr.
President, Ladies and Gentlemen,
This
signing of the Israeli-Palestinian Declaration of Principles, here today, is
not so easy neither for myself, as a soldier in Israel's wars, nor for the
people of Israel, not to the Jewish people in the Diaspora who are watching us
now with great hope, mixed with apprehension. It is certainly not easy for the
families of the victims of the wars, violence, terror, whose pain will never
heal. For the many thousands who have defended our lives in their own, and even
sacrificed their lives for our own for them, this ceremony has come too late.
Today, on the eve of an opportunity opportunity for peace and perhaps an end of
vioence and wars we remember each and every one of them with everlasting love.
We have
come from Jerusalem, the ancient and eternal capital of the Jewish people. We
have come from an anguished and grieving land. We have come from a people, a
home, a family, that has not known a single year not a single month in which
mothers have not wept for their sons. We have come to try and put an end to the
hostilities, so that our children, our children's children, will no longer
experience the painful cost of war, violence and terror. We have come to secure
their lives and to ease the sorrow and the painful memories of the past to hope
and pray for peace.
Let me
say to you, the Palestinians: We are destined to live together on the same
soil, in the same land. We, the soldiers who have returned from battle stained
with blood, we who have seen our relatives and friends killed before our eyes,
we who have attended their funerals and cannot look into the eyes of their
parents, we who have come from a land where parents bury their children, we who
have fought against you, the Palestinians -
We say
to you today in a loud and a clear voice: Enough of blood and tears. Enough. We
have no desire for revenge. We harbor no hatred towards you. We, like you, are
people people who want to build a home, to plant a tree, to love, to live side
by side with you in dignity, in empathy, as human beings, as free men. We are
today giving peace a chance, and saying again to you: Enough. Let us pray that
a day will come when we all will say: Farewell to the arms.
We wish
to open a new chapter in the sad book of our lives together a chapter of mutual
recognition, of good neighborliness, of mutual respect, of understanding. We
hope to embark on a new era in the history of the Middle East. Today, here in
Washington, at the White House, we will begin a new reckoning in relations
between peoples, between parents tired of war, between children who will not
know war.
President
of the United States, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Our
inner strength, our high moral values, have been derived for thousands of years
from the Book of Books, in one of which, Koheleth, we read:
To every
thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven:
A time
to be born, and a time to die;
A time
to kill, and a time to heal;
A time
to weep and a time to laugh;
A time
to love, and a time to hate;
A time
of war, and a time of peace.'
Ladies
and Gentlemen, the time for peace has come.
In two
days, the Jewish people will celebrate the beginning of a new year. I believe,
I hope, I pray, that the new year will bring a message of redemption for all
peoples: a good year for you, for all of you. A good year for Israelis and
Palestinians. A good year for all the
peoples of the Middle East. A good year for our American friends, who so want
peace and are helping to achieve it, for Presidents and members of previous administrations,
especially for you, President Clinton, and your staff, for all citizens of the
world: may peace come to all your homes.
In the
Jewish tradition, it is customary to conclude our prayers with the word 'Amen'.
With your permission, men of peace, I shall conclude with words taken from the
prayer recited by Jews daily, and whoever of you volunteer, I would ask the
entire audience to join me in saying 'Amen':
"He
maketh peace in His high places. He shall make peace for us and for all of
Israel. And they shall say: Amen."
(translation from Hebrew)
(translation from Hebrew)
TO THE UNITED
STATES CONGRESS
WASHINGTON, 26 JULY 1994
(special session featuring Rabin and King Hussein. The
peace agreement between Israel and Jordan was signed at 26.10.94)
Mr. Speaker,
Mr. President,
Distinguished Members of the Congress,
His Majesty, the King of Jordan,
Mr. President,
Distinguished Members of the Congress,
His Majesty, the King of Jordan,
I start by the Jewish word
"shalom".
Each year, on Memorial Day for the Fallen of
Israel's Wars, I go to the cemetery on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem. Facing me are the graves and headstones, the
colorful flowers blooming on them - and thousands of pairs of weeping eyes. I
stand there, in front of the large silent crowd - and read in their eyes the
words of The Young Dead Soldiers - as the famous Americah poet Archibald
MacLeish entitled the poem from which I take these lines:
"They say:
Whether our lives and our deaths
were for peace and a new hope,
or for nothing,
we cannot say;
it is you who must say this".
Whether our lives and our deaths
were for peace and a new hope,
or for nothing,
we cannot say;
it is you who must say this".
We have come from Jerusalem to Washington because
it is we who must say, - and we are here to say: Peace is our goal. It is peace
we desire.
With me here in this House today are my partners in this great
dream. Allow me to refer to some Israelis who are here with me, here with you:
* Amiram Kaplan, whose first brother was killed in an accident,
whose second brother was killed in pursuit of terrorists, whose third brother
was killed in war, and whose parents died of heartbreak. And today he is a
seeker of peace.
* Moshe Sasson, who, together with his father, was an emissary
to the talks with King Abdallah and to other missions of peace. Today he is
also an emissary of peace.
* With me, a classmate of mine, Chana Rivlin of Kibbutz Gesher, which faces Jordan, who endured bitter
fighting and lost a son in war. Today she looks out her window onto Jordan, and
wants the dream of peace to come true.
* Avraham Daskal, almost 90 years old, who worked for the Electric Company
in Trans-Jordan and was privileged to attend the celebrations marking King
Hussein's birth, is hoping for peace in his lifetime.
* And Dani Matt, who fought against Jordan in the War of
Independence, was taken prisoner of war, and devoted his life to the security
of the State of Israel. He hopes that his grandchildren will never know war.
* Mrs. Penina Herzog, whose husband wove the first threads of
political ties with Jordan.
With us here in this hall are:
* Mr. Gabi Kadosh, the mayor of Eilat, which touches the
frontier with Jordan and will be a focus of common tourism.
* And Mr. Shimon Cahaner, who fought against the Jordanians,
memorializes his fallen comrades, and hopes that they will have been the last
to fall.
* And Mr. Talal al-Krienawi, the mayor of a Bedouin town in
Israel, who looks forward to renewing the friendship with their brothers in
Jordan,
* And Mr. David Coren, a member of a kibbutz which was captured
by the Jordanians in 1948, who awaits the day when the borders will be open.
* And Dr. Asher Susser, a scholar who has done research on
Jordan throughout his adult life.
* And Dr. Sharon Regev, whose father was killed while pursuing
terrorists in the Jordan Valley, and who yearns for peace with all his heart.
Here they are before you. All of them wanted to
come. Here they are, people who never rejoiced in the victories of war, but
whose hearts are now filled with joy in peace.
I have come here from Jerusalem on behalf of those
thousands of bereaved families - though I haven't asked their permission. I
stand here on behalf of the parents who have buried their children; of the
children who have no fathers; and of the sons and daughters who are gone, but
return to us in our dreams. I stand here today on behalf of those youngsters
who wanted to live, to love, to build a home.
I have come from Jerusalem in the name of our
children, who began their lives with great hope - and are now names on graves
and memorial stones; old pictures in albums; fading clothes in closets.
Each year as I stand before the parents whose lips
are chanting "Kaddish", the Jewish memorial prayer, ringing in my
ears are the words of Archibald MacLeish, who echoes the plea of the young dead
soldiers:
"They say: We leave you our deaths.
Give them their meaning".
Give them their meaning".
Let us give them meaning. Let us make an end to
bloodshed. Let us make true peace.
Let us today be victorious in ending war.
The debate goes on: Who shapes the face of history?
- leaders or circumstances?
My answer to you is: We all shape the face of history. We, the
people. We, the farmers behind our plows, the teachers in our classrooms, the
doctors saving lives, the scientists at our computers, the workers on the
assembly lines, the builders on our scaffolds.
We, the mothers blinking back tears as our sons are
drafted into the army; we, the fathers who stay awake at night worried and
anxious for our children's safety. We, Jews and Arabs. We, Israelis and Jordanians. We, the people, we shape the face
of history.
And we, the leaders, hear the voices, and sense the deepest
emotions and feelings of the thousands and the millions, and translate them
into reality.
If my people did not desire peace so strongly, I
would not be standing here today. And I am sure that if the children of Amman,
and the soldiers of Irbid, the women of Saltt and the citizens of Aqaba did not
seek peace, our partner in this great quest, the King of Jordan, would not be
here now, shaking hands, calling for peace.
We bear the responsibility. We have the power to
decide. And we dare not miss this great opportunity. For it is the duty of
leaders to bring peace and well-being to their peoples. We are graced with the
privilege of fulfilling this duty for our peoples. This is our responsibility.
The complex relations between Israel and Jordan
have continued for a generation. Today, so many years later, we carry with us
good memories of the special ties between your country, your Majesty, and mine,
and we carry with us the grim reminders of the times we found ourselves at war.
We remember the days of your grandfather, King Abdallah, who sought avenues of
peace with the heads of the Jewish people and the leaders of the young State of
Israel.
There is much work before us. We face psychological
barriers. We face genuine practical problems. Walls of hostility have been
built on the River Jordan which runs between us. You in Amman, and we in
Jerusalem, must bring down those barriers and walls, must solve those concrete
problems. I am sure that we will do it.
Yesterday we took a giant step towards a peace
which will embrace it all: borders and water, security and economics, trade
without boycotts, tourism and environment, diplomatic relations. We want peace
between countries, but above all, between human beings.
Beyond the ceremonies, after the festivities, we
will move on to the negotiations. They will not be easy. But when they are
completed, a wonderful, common future awaits us. The Middle East, the cradle of
the great monotheistic civilizations - Judaism, Christianity, and Islam; the
Middle East, which was a valley of the shadow of death, will be a place where
it is a pleasure to live.
We live on the same stretch of land. The same rain
nourishes our soil; the same hot wind parches our fields. We find shade under
the same fig tree. We savor the fruit of the same green vine. We drink from the
same well. Only a 70-minute journey separates these cities Jerusalem and Amman
and 46 years. And just as we have been enemies, so can we be good and friendly
neighbors.
Since it is unprecedented that in this joint
meeting two speakers are invited, allow me to turn to His Majesty.
Your Majesty, We have both seen a lot in our lifetime. We have
both seen too much suffering. What will you leave to your children? What will I
leave to my grandchildren? I have only dreams: to build a better world a world
of understanding and harmony, a world in which it is a joy to live. This is not
asking too much.
The State of Israel thanks you: thanks you for accepting our
hand in peace; for your political wisdom and courage; for planting new hope in
our hearts, in the hearts of your subjects, and the hearts of all peace-loving
people. And I know that you enjoy the highest esteem of the United States -
this great America which is helping the bold to make a peace of the brave.
From this hall that represents freedom, liberty and
democracy, I would like to thank President Clinton, the former Presidents of
the United States, Secretary of State Christopher, former secretaries of state
and administrations, you, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Vice President; and we are more than
thankful to you, distinguished members of the Congress, representatives of the
American people, and to you, the wonderful people of America.
I do so because no words can express our gratitude
to you and to the American people for your generous support, understanding, and
cooperation which are beyond compare in modern history. Thank you, America. God
bless America.
Tomorrow I shall return to Jerusalem, the capital
of the State of Israel and the heart of the Jewish people. Lining the road to
Jerusalem are rusting hulks of metal burnt-out, silent, cold. They at the
remains of convoys which brought food and medicine to the war-torn and besieged
city of Jerusalem 46 years ago.
For many of Israel's citizens, their story is one
of heroism, part of our national legend. For me and for my comrades-in-arms,
every scrap of cold metal lying there by the wayside is a bitter memory. I
remember it as though it were just yesterday.
I remember them. I was their commander in war. For them this
ceremony has come too late. What endures are their children, their comrades,
their legacy.
Allow me to make a personal note. I, military I.D.
number three-zero-seven-four-three, retired general in the Israel Defense
Forces in the past, consider myself to be a soldier in the army of peace today.
I, who served my country for 27 years as a soldier, I say to you, Your Majesty,
the King of Jordan, and I say to you, American friends:
Today we are embarking on a battle which has no dead
and no wounded, no blood and no anguish. This is the only battle which is a
pleasure to wage: the battle for peace.
Tomorrow, on the way up to Jerusalem, thousands of flowers will
cover the remains of those rusting armored vehicles, the ones that never made
it to the city. Tomorrow, from those silent metal heaps, thousands of flowers
will smile to us with the word peace: "shalom".
In the Bible, our Book of Books, peace is
mentioned, in its various idioms, 237 times. In the Bible, from which we draw our
values and our strength, in the Book of Jeremiah, we find a lamentation for
Rachel the Matriarch. It reads:
"Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears:
for their work shall be rewarded, says the Lord".
for their work shall be rewarded, says the Lord".
I will not refrain from weeping for those who are
gone. But on this summer day in Washington, far from home, we sense that our
work will be rewarded, as the prophet foretold.
The Jewish tradition calls for a blessing on every
new tree, every new fruit, on every new season, Let me conclude with the
ancient Jewish blessing that has been with us in exile, and in Israel, for
thousands of years:
"Blessed are You, 0 Lord, who has preserved
us, and sustained us, and enabled us to reach this time".
God, Bless the Peace.
Thank you.
ADDRESS BY ISRAELI PRIME MINISTER YITZHAK RABIN AT THE SIGNING CEREMONY
OF THE TREATY OF PEACE BETWEEN THE STATE OF ISRAEL AND THE HASHEMITE KINGDOM OF
JORDAN
OCTOBER
26, 1994
[Happy
holiday. Happy holiday to the people of Israel; happy
holiday to the people of Jordan. Let this be an end to war, violence and
hostile activity. And let us know no more war.]
Your
Majesty King Hussein I,
President Clinton,
President Weizman,
The Foreign Ministers of our countries,
Distinguished guests from all over the world,
The peoples of Jordan and Israel,
President Clinton,
President Weizman,
The Foreign Ministers of our countries,
Distinguished guests from all over the world,
The peoples of Jordan and Israel,
From
this podium, I look around and I see the Arava. Along the horizon, from the
Jordanian side and the Israeli side, I see only a desert. There is almost no
life here. There is no water, no well, and not a spring only minefields.
Such
were the relations between Israel and Jordan during the last 47 years: a
desert. Not one green lear, no trees, not even a single flower.
There
comes a time when there is a need to be strong and to make courageous
decisions, to overcome the minefields, the drought, the barrenness between our
two peoples.
We have
known many days of sorrow, you have known many days of grief but bereavement
unites us, as does bravery, and we honor those who sacrificed their lives. We
both must draw on the springs of our great spiritual resources, to forgive the
anguish we caused each other, to clear the minefields that divided us for so
many years and to supplant it with fields of plenty.
For
nearly two generations, desolation pervaded the heart of our two peoples. The
time has now come not merely to dream of a better future but to realize it.
Leaders
should clear the path, should show the way, but the road itself must be paved
by both peoples. I don't believe that we would have reached this great moment
without the desire for peace in the hearts of both peoples; in the hearts of
the soldiers and the intellectuals, in the hearts of the farmers and of the
lorry drivers who drive through the Arava highways in Jordan and Israel, in the
hearts of teachers and of the little children.
Both
nations were determined that the great revolution in the Middle East would take
place in their generation.
From
this podium, I look around and I see the Arava and I see you: our generation
and the next. We are the ones who will transform this barren place into a
fertile oasis. The drab browns and the dull grays will burst forth in living
vibrant greens.
Your
Majesty, Peace between states if peace between peoples. It is an expression of
trust and esteem. I have learned to know and admire the quiet and the smiling
power with which you guard your nation and the courage with which you lead your
people. It is not only our states that are making peace with each other today,
not only our nations that are shaking hands in peace here in the Arava. You and
I, your Majesty, are making peace here, our own peace, the peace of soldiers
and the peace of friends.
President
Clinton, Thank you for your tremendous support throughout the entire process,
which was vital for the achievement of this final result.
I would
like to thank many others on the Israeli side, on the Jordanian side, that
worked very hard day and night that we be allowed to reach this great moment.
The Foreign Minister of Israel; the head of our team, Elyakim Rubinstein; Ephraim
Halevy; and many others that no doubt contributed a lot to this great
achievement.
As dawn
broke this morning and a new day began, new life came into the world babies
were born in Jerusalem. Babies were born in Amman. But this morning is
different.
To the
mother of the Jordanian newborn a blessed day to you. To
the mother of the Israeli newborn a blessed day to you.
The
peace that was born today gives us all the hope that the children born today
will never know war between us and their
mothers
will know no sorrow.
Allow me
to end by the simple words: Shalom, Salaam, Peace.
Oslo, December 10, 1994
Your Majesties,
Esteemed Chairman and Members of the Norwegian Nobel Prize Committee,
The Honorable Prime Minister of Norway,
My Fellow Laureates, Chairman Arafat and the Foreign Minister of Israel Shimon Peres,
Distinguished Guests,
Since I don't believe that there was any precedent that one person got the Nobel Prize twice, allow me on this opportunity to attach to this prestigious award, a personal touch.
At an
age when most youngsters are struggling to unravel the secrets of mathematics
and the mysteries of the Bible; at an age when first love blooms; at the tender
age of sixteen, I was handed a rifle so that I could defend myself.
That was
not my dream. I wanted to be a water engineer. I studied in an agricultural
school and I thought being a water engineer was an important profession in the
parched Middle East. I still think so today. However, I was compelled to resort
to the gun.
I served
in the military for decades. Under my responsibility, young men and women who
wanted to live, wanted to love, went to their deaths instead. They fell in the
defense of our lives.
Ladies
and Gentlemen,
In my
current position, I have ample opportunity to fly over the State of Israel, and
lately over other parts of the Middle East as well. The view from the plane is
breathtaking; deep-blue seas and lakes, dark-green fields, dune-colored
deserts, stone-gray mountains, and the entire countryside peppered with
white-washed, red-roofed houses.
And also
cemeteries. Graves as far as the eye can see.
Hundreds
of cemeteries in our part of the world, in the Middle East -- in our home in
Israel, but also in Egypt, in Syria, Jordan, Lebanon. From the plane's window,
from the thousands of feet above them, the countless tombstones are silent. But
the sound of their outcry has carried from the Middle East throughout the world
for decades.
Standing
here today, I wish to salute our loved ones -- and past foes. I wish to salute
all of them -- the fallen of all the countries in all the wars; the members of
their families who bear the enduring burden of bereavement; the disabled whose
scars will never heal. Tonight, I wish to pay tribute to each and every one of
them, for this important prize is theirs.
Ladies
and Gentlemen,
I was a
young man who has now grown fully in years. In Hebrew, we say, 'Na'ar hayiti, ve-gam zakanti'
[I was a young man, who has grown fully in years]. And of all the memories I
have stored up in my seventy-two years, what I shall remember most, to my last
day, are the silences: The heavy silence of the moment after, and the
terrifying silence of the moment before.
As a
military man, as a commander, as a minister of defense, I ordered to carry out
many military operations. And together with the joy of victory and the grief of
bereavement, I shall always remember the moment just after taking such
decisions: the hush as senior officers or cabinet ministers slowly rise from
their seats; the sight of their receding backs; the sound of the closing door;
and then the silence in which I remain alone.
That is
the moment you grasp that as a result of the decision just made, people might
go to their deaths. People from my nation, people from other nations. And they
still don't know it.
At that
hour, they are still laughing and weeping; still weaving plans and dreaming
about love; still musing about planting a garden or building a house -- and they
have no idea these are their last hours on earth. Which of them is fated to
die? Whose picture will appear in the black frame in tomorrow's newspaper?
Whose mother will soon be in mourning? Whose world will crumble under the
weight of the loss?
As a former
military man, I will also forever remember the silence of the moment before:
the hush when the hands of the clock seem to be spinning forward, when time is
running out and in another hour, another minute, the inferno will erupt.
In that
moment of great tension just before the finger pulls the trigger, just before
the fuse begins to burn; in the terrible quiet of the moment, there is still
time to wonder, to wonder alone: Is it really imperative to act? Is there no
other choice? No other way?
'God takes
pity on kindergartners,' wrote the poet Yehudah Amichai,
who is here with us this evening -- and I quote his:
'God takes pity on kindergartners,
Less so on the schoolchildren,
And will no longer pity their elders,
Leaving them to their own,
And sometimes they will have to crawl on all fours,
Through the burning sand,
To reach the casualty station,
Bleeding.'
Less so on the schoolchildren,
And will no longer pity their elders,
Leaving them to their own,
And sometimes they will have to crawl on all fours,
Through the burning sand,
To reach the casualty station,
Bleeding.'
For
decades, God has not taken pity on the kindergartners in the Middle East, or
the schoolchildren, or their elders. There has been no pity in the Middle East
for generations.
Ladies
and Gentlemen,
I was a
young man who has now grown fully in years. And of all the memories I have
stored up in my seventy-two years, I now recall the hopes.
Our
people have chosen us to give them life. Terrible as it is to say, their lives
are in our hands. Tonight, their eyes are upon us and their hearts are asking:
How is the power vested in these men and women being used? What will they
decide? Into what kind of morning will we rise tomorrow? A day of peace? Of war? Of
laughter? Of tears?
A child
is born in an utterly undemocratic way. He cannot choose his father and mother.
He cannot pick his sex or color, his religion, nationality or homeland. Whether
he is born in a manor or a manger, whether he lives under a despotic or
democratic regime is not his choice. From the moment he comes, close-fisted,
into the world, his fate -- to a large extent -- is decided by his nation's
leaders. It is they who will decide whether he lives in comfort or in despair,
in security or in fear. His fate is given to us to resolve -- to the
governments of countries, democratic or otherwise.
Ladies
and Gentlemen,
Just as
no two fingerprints are identical, so no two people are alike, and every
country has its own laws and culture, traditions and leaders. But there is one
universal message which can embrace the entire world, one precept which can be
common to different regimes, to races which bear no resemblance, to cultures
that are alien to each other.
It is a
message which the Jewish people has carried for thousands of years, the message
found in the Book of Books: 'Ve'nishmartem me'od l'nafshoteichem' -- 'Therefore take good heed of
yourselves' -- or, in contemporary terms, the message of the sanctity of life.
The
leaders of nations must provide their peoples with the conditions -- the
infrastructure, if you will -- which enables them to enjoy life: freedom of
speech and movement; food and shelter; and most important of all: life itself.
A man cannot enjoy his rights if he is not alive. And so every country must
protect and preserve the key element in its national ethos: the lives of its
citizens.
Only to
defend those lives, we can call upon our citizens to enlist in the army. And to
defend the lives of our citizens serving in the army, we invest huge sums in
planes and tanks, and other means. Yet despite it all, we fail to protect the
lives of our citizens and soldiers. Military cemeteries in every corner of the
world are silent testimony to the failure of national leaders to sanctify human
life.
There is
only one radical means for sanctifying human life. The one radical solution is
a real peace.
Ladies
and Gentlemen,
The
profession of soldiering embraces a certain paradox. We take the best and the
bravest of our young men into the army. We supply them with equipment which
costs a virtual fortune. We rigorously train them for the day when they must do
their duty -- and we expect them to do it well. Yet we fervently pray that that
day will never come -- that the planes will never take off, the tanks will
never move forward, the soldiers will never mount the attacks for which they
have been trained so well.
We pray
that it will never happen, because of the sanctity of life.
History
as a whole, and modern history in particular, has known harrowing times when
national leaders turned their citizens into cannon fodder in the name of wicked
doctrines: vicious Fascism, terrible Nazism. Pictures of children marching to
slaughter, photos of terrified women at the gates of the crematoria must loom
before the eyes of every leader in our generation, and the generations to come.
They must serve as a warning to all who wield power.
Almost
all regimes which did not place the sanctity of life at the heart of their
worldview, all those regimes have collapsed and are no more. You can see it for
yourselves in our own time.
Yet this
is not the whole picture. To preserve the sanctity of life, we must sometimes
risk it. Sometimes there is no other way to defend our citizens than to fight
for their lives, for their safety and freedom. This is the creed of every
democratic state.
In the
State of Israel, from which I come today; in the Israel Defense Forces, which I
have had the privilege to serve, we have always viewed the sanctity of life as
a supreme value. We have never gone to war unless a war was forced on us.
The
history of the State of Israel, the annals of the Israel Defense Forces, are
filled with thousands of stories of soldiers who sacrificed themselves -- who
died while trying to save wounded comrades; who gave their lives to avoid
causing harm to innocent people on their enemy's side.
In the
coming days, a special commission of the Israel Defense Forces will finish
drafting a Code of Conduct for our soldiers. The formulation regarding human
life will read as follows, and I quote:
'In
recognition of its supreme importance, the soldier will preserve human life in
every way possible and endanger himself, or others, only to the extent deemed
necessary to fulfill this mission.
'The sanctity of life, in the point of view of the soldiers of the Israel Defense Forces, will find expression in all their actions.'
'The sanctity of life, in the point of view of the soldiers of the Israel Defense Forces, will find expression in all their actions.'
For many
years ahead -- even if wars come to an end, after peace comes to our land --
these words will remain a pillar of fire which goes before our camp, a guiding
light for our people. And we take pride in that.
Ladies
and Gentlemen,
We are
in the midst of building the peace. The architects and the engineers of this
enterprise are engaged in their work even as we gather here tonight, building
the peace, layer by layer, brick by brick. The job is difficult, complex,
trying. Mistakes could topple the whole structure and bring disaster down upon
us.
And so
we are determined to do the job well -- despite the toll of murderous
terrorism, despite the fanatic and cruel enemies of peace.
We will
pursue the course of peace with determination and fortitude. We will not let
up. We will not give in. Peace will triumph over all its enemies, because the
alternative is grimmer for us all. And we will prevail.
We will
prevail because we regard the building of peace as a great blessing for us, for
our children after us. We regard it as a blessing for our neighbors on all
sides, and for our partners in this enterprise -- the United States, Russia,
Norway -- which did so much to bring the agreement that was signed here, later
on in Washington, later on in Cairo, that wrote a beginning of the solution to
the longest and most difficult part of the Arab-Israeli conflict: the
Palestinian-Israeli one. We thank others who have contributed to it, too.
We wake
up every morning, now, as different people. Peace is possible. We see the hope
in our children's eyes. We see the light in our soldiers' faces, in the
streets, in the buses, in the fields. We must not let them down. We will not
let them down.
I stand
here not alone today, on this small rostrum in Oslo. I am here to speak in the
name of generations of Israelis and Jews, of the shepherds of Israel -- and you
know that King David was a shepherd; he started to build Jerusalem about 3,000
years ago -- the herdsmen and dressers of sycamore trees, and as the Prophet
Amos was; of the rebels against the establishment, as the Prophet Jeremiah was;
and of men who went down to the sea, like the Prophet Jonah.
I am
here to speak in the name of the poets and of those who dreamed of an end to
war, like the Prophet Isaiah.
I am
also here to speak in the names of sons of the Jewish people like Albert
Einstein and Baruch Spinoza, like Maimonides, Sigmund Freud and Franz Kafka.
And I am
the emissary of millions who perished in the Holocaust, among whom were surely
many Einsteins and Freuds who were lost to us, and to humanity, in the flames
of the crematoria.
I am
here as the emissary of Jerusalem, at whose gates I fought in the days of
siege; Jerusalem which has always been, and is today, the people, who pray
toward Jerusalem three times a day.
And I am
also the emissary of the children who drew their visions of peace; and of the
immigrants from St. Petersburg and Addis Ababa.
I stand
here mainly for the generations to come, so that we may all be deemed worthy of
the medal which you have bestowed on me and my colleagues today.
I stand
here as the emissary today -- if they will allow me -- of our neighbors who
were our enemies. I stand here as the emissary of the soaring hopes of a people
which has endured the worst that history has to offer and nevertheless made its
mark -- not just on the chronicles of the Jewish people but on all mankind.
With me
here are five million citizens of Israel -- Jews, Arabs, Druze and Circassians
-- five million hearts beating for peace, and five million pairs of eyes which
look at us with such great expectations for peace.
Ladies
and Gentlemen,
I wish
to thank, first and foremost, those citizens of the State of Israel, of all the
generations, of all the political persuasions, whose sacrifices and relentless
struggle for peace bring us steadier closer to our goal.
I wish
to thank our partners -- the Egyptians, the Jordanians, and the Palestinians, that
are led by the Chairman of the Palestinian Liberation Organization, Mr. Yasser
Arafat, with whom we share this Nobel Prize -- who have chosen the path of
peace and are writing a new page in the annals of the Middle East.
I wish
to thank the members of the Israeli government, but above all my partner the
Foreign Minister, Mr. Shimon Peres, whose energy and devotion to the cause of
peace are an example to us all.
I wish
to thank my family that supported me all the long way that I have passed.
And, of
course, I wish to thank the Chairman, the members of the Nobel Prize Committee
and the courageous Norwegian people for bestowing this illustrious honor on my
colleagues and myself.
Ladies
and Gentlemen,
Allow me
to close by sharing with you a traditional Jewish blessing which has been
recited by my people, in good times and bad ones, as a token of their deepest
longing:
'The Lord will give strength to his people; the
Lord will bless his people -- and all of us -- in peace.'
Thank
you very much.
Remarks by Late
Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin
at Tel-Aviv Peace Rally
at Tel-Aviv Peace Rally
November 4, 1995
On leaving a mass rally for peace held under the slogan "Yes to Peace, No to Violence," Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated by a Jewish right-wing extremist. Age 73 at his death, he was laid to rest before a shocked and grieving nation, in a state funeral on Mt. Herzl in Jerusalem, attended by leaders from around the world.
These were his last words:
Permit
me to say that I am deeply moved. I wish to thank each and every one of you,
who have come here today to take a stand against violence and for peace. This
government, which I am privileged to head, together with my friend Shimon
Peres, decided to give peace a chance -- a peace that will solve most of
Israel's problems.
I was a
military man for 27 years. I fought so long as there was no chance for peace. I
believe that there is now a chance for peace, a great chance. We must take
advantage of it for the sake of those standing here, and for those who are not
here -- and they are many.
I have
always believed that the majority of the people want peace and are ready to
take risks for peace. In coming here today, you demonstrate, together with many
others who did not come, that the people truly desire peace and oppose
violence. Violence erodes the basis of Israeli democracy. It must be condemned
and isolated. This is not the way of the State of Israel. In a democracy there
can be differences, but the final decision will be taken in democratic
elections, as the 1992 elections which gave us the mandate to do what we are
doing, and to continue on this course.
I want
to say that I am proud of the fact that representatives of the countries with
whom we are living in peace are present with us here, and will continue to be
here: Egypt, Jordan, and Morocco, which opened the road to peace for us. I want
to thank the President of Egypt, the King of Jordan, and the King of Morocco,
represented here today, for their partnership with us in our march towards
peace.
But,
more than anything, in the more than three years of this Government's
existence, the Israeli people has proven that it is possible to make peace,
that peace opens the door to a better economy and society; that peace is not
just a prayer. Peace is first of all in our prayers, but it is also the
aspiration of the Jewish people, a genuine aspiration for peace.
There
are enemies of peace who are trying to hurt us, in order to torpedo the peace
process. I want to say bluntly, that we have found a partner for peace among
the Palestinians as well: the PLO, which was an enemy, and has ceased to engage
in terrorism. Without partners for peace, there can be no peace. We will demand
that they do their part for peace, just as we will do our part for peace, in
order to solve the most complicated, prolonged, and emotionally charged aspect
of the Israeli-Arab conflict: the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.
This is
a course which is fraught with difficulties and pain. For Israel, there is no
path that is without pain. But the path of peace is preferable to the path of
war. I say this to you as one who was a military man, someone who is today
Minister of Defense and sees the pain of the families of the IDF soldiers. For
them, for our children, in my case for our grandchildren, I want this
government to exhaust every opening, every possibility, to promote and achieve
a comprehensive peace. Even with Syria, is will be possible to make peace.
This
rally must send a message to the Israeli people, to the Jewish people around
the world, to the many people in the Arab world, and indeed to the entire
world, that the Israeli people want peace, support peace. For this, I thank
you.
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