f<strong>in</strong>d a wise one who will solve it. Maybe tomorrow,maybe <strong>in</strong> ten thousand years. Or maybe the wise oneis already among us.Nobody is right, and nobody is mistaken. Whatis true is the truth: Justice.April 1950, Philadelphia.Five years is like half a century when you liveyour life with bitterness and rem<strong>in</strong>isc<strong>in</strong>g. Even whenyou are at a party, and you are <strong>in</strong> a good mood, lateryou realize your guilt. Is this anger? Is this conscience?Is this self-consciousness or self-criticism?But why? This is a mystery deep with<strong>in</strong> the soul.But what do you want, my soul, if I can call you that?Five years. it's not long to write it down, and it's veryeasy to pronounce it. But, when I remember, I amcarried back even more clearly than any time before.It's five years today that I was liberated from theGermans' cha<strong>in</strong>. In my egotistic human way, I washappy then that I existed. That I rema<strong>in</strong>ed alive. I washappy for every given day. For every bite that Ireceived. But then I didn't live yet. I just thought Ilived. My head was full of haze. I didn't plan becauseI thought everyth<strong>in</strong>g came naturally, by itself. To likeand be liked I took for granted. And I didn't know thatI would always and always be carried back.And yet I'd just stepped <strong>in</strong>to life's school. I wasonly a child then, but the dolls I used to play with wereso far from me. I had to mature very quickly. But itwas too fast, and it didn't br<strong>in</strong>g any fruit. Because atthis stage of my life I still can't give myself any clearideas.I don't know what I am. I don't know when I'mdo<strong>in</strong>g right or wrong. Am I right when I am th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g?And for what I am th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g? Many times, I th<strong>in</strong>k I wasjust born for trouble. To be a burden and! sorrow toeverybody, because I cannot laugh. They say, "If youlaugh, everybodyare alone. " laughs with you. And if you cry, youYes, my. diary, I am here <strong>in</strong> America, Amer ika!After many fights, I consented to come here rather thanto Palest<strong>in</strong>e. I consented to come here bec ause of myfamil y . Ididn'ttakean y th<strong>in</strong> g tooseriousl y . !And that' swhy I'm fight<strong>in</strong>g now with everybody. Ev!ery day isa fight. Because I'm try<strong>in</strong>g to make myself understood.My rights, my pr<strong>in</strong>ciples, and somebody else's — withmy own double standards! But nobody' s Iright andnobody's wrong. Only the truth is right. But that is sorare. Now I'm push<strong>in</strong>g the years back. For me, that' slike putt<strong>in</strong>g the clock back a few m<strong>in</strong>utes. <strong>Time</strong>elapses, but the impossible does not fade from my eyes.Five years ago I f<strong>in</strong>ished my diary with a sentencethat was full of hope. that I will see my father aga<strong>in</strong>.Yes, God helped me. My dream became a reality. Wemet <strong>in</strong> my home town and with unbelievable happ<strong>in</strong>esswe were reunited. But my father left our home whenI was a child, when he was taken away to the forcedlabor camp. And now he's realiz<strong>in</strong>g his daughter hasher own thoughts about life's problems.I knew we should get out of my home townbecause it would be Russian. And I also knew that <strong>in</strong>my home town, where I lived my sweetest, happiestlife, it would never return. I wanted to escape fromthe memories because I didn't want to live through firstthe good, then the miserable destroy<strong>in</strong>g of life. Eitherway, for us to pack and leave meant little. We' dalready tasted wander<strong>in</strong>g, and it seems like this is thepattern of our lives — pack and go, pack and go.1965: In Hospital.After be<strong>in</strong>g established <strong>in</strong> the States as a citizen,wife, and f<strong>in</strong>ally a mother of three young children, Iwas told that I was sick and would have to part frommy family for an <strong>in</strong>def<strong>in</strong>ite time of hospitalization. Thisagony evoked all the dormant horrors of be<strong>in</strong>g a camp<strong>in</strong>mate. As I entered the hospital corridor, it lookedlike a typical jail. I was becom<strong>in</strong>g a prisoner all overaga<strong>in</strong>. Enter<strong>in</strong>g the room and meet<strong>in</strong>g my roommateonly added to my sense of a nightmare returned. Thelady was German.As a fourteen-year-old carefree child whose<strong>in</strong>terests were school, family, and friends, I watchedour little city of Munkacz become a strange place. Itfilled with Hungarian and German occupy<strong>in</strong>g soldiers.<strong>Our</strong> neighbors whom we'd known all our lives suddenlybecame alien to us. We had to wear the yellow star.Still we walked our streets not realiz<strong>in</strong>g the seriousnessof the situation.One sunny, spr<strong>in</strong>g day, two German soldiers tookup residence <strong>in</strong> our home. After two weeks, the ordercame to pack up five kilos of belong<strong>in</strong>gs and leave ourhouse. We marched with our fellow Jews to a brickfactory on the outskirts of the city. We made our newhome under the skies. My mother and my young,newly-wed aunt, my beautiful six-year-old brother, andI. We had no father at our side to protect us becausehe had been taken to a forced labor camp well before.My aunt became the head of our household. She founda sleigh and out of it improvised a bedroom. We feltlucky to have such privileges.The young people formed a work<strong>in</strong>g unit, throw<strong>in</strong>gbricks to each other and mak<strong>in</strong>g a k<strong>in</strong>d of fencefor privacy. And so we lived. Four weeks after this,we were wakened by a harsh command: "Pack! Weare tak<strong>in</strong>g you to a place where you will work. "It was dark and gloomy when we were loaded ona caravan of closed cattlewagons, filled to capacitywithout even stand<strong>in</strong>g room. My mother made up a82 GENOCIDE
corner <strong>in</strong> her lap, and we all huddled together veryquietly.I remember my mother's thoughts were with myfather's safety. And to me she kept say<strong>in</strong>g, "I hope Godwill watch over you not to starve. I know you havea headache, my child. " She must have had a premonitionthat I would be the only one to be spared from thegas chambers.Yes, the tra<strong>in</strong> came to a halt after four or five daysof travel. Suddenly, the gate of the wagon was openedup, and the carload was ordered to form l<strong>in</strong>es. "Push!Push! Fast! Fast!" — mothers hold<strong>in</strong>g onto their babiesand older ones. My first thought of the striped clothesand shaven heads: "This is the crazy unit. "Soon I found myself <strong>in</strong> front of an extremely tallGerman officer who ordered me to the left. I ran backto my mother. I wanted to be with my family [whowere sent to the rightj. How lucky they are to betogether. And I shouldn't be with them?But Mengele, the Angel of Death, would not grantme the other side. After three attempts to run back tothe mov<strong>in</strong>g l<strong>in</strong>e, I was thrown to the sandy gravel,plead<strong>in</strong>g to my mother. With a concerned ache <strong>in</strong> hereyes, she saw her child be<strong>in</strong>g thrown and pushed.With a wave ofher gentle hand, she accomplishedwhat could not be done by bayonet force. "Go, mychild, go. We will see each other tomorrow. "And I' ve been go<strong>in</strong>g ever s<strong>in</strong>ce then.NoTEs1. Mart<strong>in</strong> Gilbert, The Macmillan Atlas of theHolocaust (New York: Macmillan, 1982), 227.2. See Herman Dicker, Piety and Perseverance: JewsPom the Carpathian Mounta<strong>in</strong>s (New York: Sepher-Herman Press, Inc. , 1981) and The Marmaros Book(Tel Aviv: Beit Marmaros, 1983).3. Hank Greenspan, "Lives as Texts: Symptoms asModes of Recount<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the Life Histories of HolocaustSurvivors, " to appear <strong>in</strong> Storied Lives, ed. by R.Ochberg and G. Rosenfeld (New Haven: Yale UniversityPress).The victims who survived 83
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GenocldeIn OurTlme- ,*"f* *An Annot
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DEDICATIONTo Raphael Lemkin(1901-19
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Chapter 5:The Armenian Genocide: Re
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Appendix 167Appendix: Chronology of
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ending sources of joy and hope. In
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Massive human suffering caused by p
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world without any reification and u
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CIIAPTER IETHNOCIDEby Alison Palmer
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als are tempted away by the promise
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Interactionsof Ethnocide and Genoci
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Chapter 1: AnnotatedBibliographyRea
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the inevitable extinction of tribal
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upon the purge of cultural and scie
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traditional ethnic and socio-cultur
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whites. Lizot proposes that integra
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¹ 1. 53 ¹Olson, James S. , and Ra
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tion of indigenes into state politi
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as a potential irredentist national
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serious questions about the notion
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ate and beleaguered institutions th
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In one of the most important works
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¹ 7. 16 ¹Dadrian, Vahakn N. "A Th
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Corporate Enterprise at Auschwitz"
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* 7. 47 +Nolan, Janne E. , and Albe
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and sometimes irrational. " (p. 7)
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able to evaluate various nuclear we
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In an angry, stimulating book, Aske
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Lang reflects on how technology fac
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This is a pioneering collection of
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"good reasons" for not offering the
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take consistent ethical actions aga
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sadisChart: Taking a Stand Against
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This indicator refers to an advance
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14. Louis Rene Beres, "Genocide, St
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to horrible new acts of violence ag
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* 8. 27 ~Horowitz, Irving Louis. Ge
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~ 8. 41 ~Lifton, Robert J. , and Er
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~ 8. 56 ~Thompson, John L. P. "Geno
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CountryDatesPer petratorsVictimsEst
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Dwork, DeborahDyer, Gwynne. . . . .
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Morgenthau, Henry . . . . . '. . .
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TITLE INDEXThe Abandonment of the J
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"Epilogue: The Nuclear Arms Raceand
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The Industrialization of Soviet Rus
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Psychiatric Aspects of the Preventi
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When Memory ComesWhile Six Million