Mr. Speaker, I commend to my colleagues the remarks recently made by Julius Genachowski, the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission and head of the Presidential delegation that visited Auschwitz on the 65th anniversary of its…
Mr. Speaker, I commend to my colleagues the remarks recently made by Julius Genachowski, the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission and head of the Presidential delegation that visited Auschwitz on the 65th anniversary of its liberation.
Drawing upon his strong personal connection to the atrocities that occurred there, Chairman Genachowski's remarks captured the spirit of the anniversary of the Auschwitz liberation, and highlighted our obligation to fight hatred and intolerance by never forgetting the stories of the prisoners of Auschwitz and the forces who freed them.
I would like to ask unanimous consent to insert Chairman Genachowski's remarks into the Record.
Auschwitz: Remembrance and Responsibility
(Oswiecim, Poland, Jan. 27, 2010)
Thank you to the government and people of Poland for
hosting this important event, and to the International
Auschwitz Council and the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum.
I'm grateful to President Obama for asking me to lead the
delegation representing the United States on the occasion of
the 65th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. I'm
privileged to be part of such a distinguished delegation,
along with Assistant to the President Susan Sher, Ambassador
Lee Feinstein, Special Envoy Hanna Rosenthal, and three
extraordinary survivors of the Holocaust, each with powerful
experiences and deeply noble lives: Mr. Roman Kent, Ms.
Charlene Schiff, and Ms. Eda Sternberg-Powidzki.
I also welcome colleagues from the United States Department
of Education, here to participate in the Education Ministers'
Conference on ``Auschwitz: Memory, Responsibility,
Education''--Matthew Yale, who is the department's Deputy
Chief of Staff, and Phil Rosenfelt, who is Deputy General
Counsel and the Secretary of Education's designated
representative to the council for the Holocaust Museum.
As head of this delegation to Auschwitz, I was sent to
mourn, to remember, to testify--for I have a connection with
this part of Europe, and with the solemn grounds on which we
stand today. Genachowski is a name pronounced easily in this
part of the world. My family has roots in Poland, Ukraine,
Hungary, Romania, and other nearby countries.
Roots like Bella Rabinovitch and her family, a Jewish
family.
Bella was a mother of four--three grown girls and a boy--
living in Belgium in the first half of the last century. Her
husband, Chaim Ben Zion, was the Cantor in Antwerp's main
synagogue. His gift was his voice, which he used to lead the
congregation in prayer and to sing his beloved operas.
Bella's children were married; young grandchildren were part
of the family mix. A nice life for a girl originally from a
poor rural village in the Ukraine.
But as the German invasion of Europe spread into Belgium,
Bella's world began to crumble. One daughter and son-in-law
fled the country, fearing the worst. Then Bella's husband and
son were arrested and sent to a slave labor camp. Another
son-in-law, Shimon, was picked up by the SS on a streetcar
(his identity card checked; it was marked ``J''). He brazenly
escaped, and that night left the country with his wife,
Bella's daughter Dina, and their five-year-old son Azriel.
Of course, the worst was yet to come.
Bella went into hiding with her remaining daughter, son-in-
law, and grandson. Like so many others, they were eventually
discovered. The Nazis gave Bella the choice to stay in
Antwerp. She chose the gruesome transport with her family.
On April 19, 1942, Bella and what was left of her family in
Belgium were packed onto a train along with 1,396 others.
After three days in the cattle car, they arrived at
Auschwitz-Birkenau.
The meticulous Nazi records are clear on the dates. But
there is much we can only wonder about.
Did they see the sign ``Arbeit Macht Frei'' (so callously
stolen recently, and fortunately recovered)? Did they know
what was next? Did they recognize that smell in the air? When
the train stopped they were unloaded into a line where fates
were decided.
The records state that Bella Rabinovitch, along with Sara,
Isaac and four-year-old Jacob were ``Gazes a L'Arivee''--
gassed on arrival. Over 1,000 of the 1,400 passengers on that
train were gassed on arrival.
Bella is not famous, but you knew her story already, a
story with millions of different beginnings but one tragic
ending.
Bella Rabinovitch was my great-grandmother. I am the
descendant of a victim whose ashes reside on these grounds.
My father, Azriel Genachowski, was the five-year-old boy I
told you about. His path to freedom with his parents was
harrowing, and at several key moments over many months non-
Jews risked their lives to save his.
Azriel Genachowski and my mother Adele are here today, with
the American delegation. They survived the Nazi onslaught of
Europe. They taught me what I have told you. They taught me
what Simon Weisenthal once said, ``Survival is a privilege
which entails obligations.''
Out of the ashes of the Nazi terror come many obligations.
As President Obama said last year upon visiting Buchenwald,
a death camp his great uncle helped liberate as an army
infantryman, ``It is up to us to bear witness; to ensure that
the world continues to note what happened here; to remember
all those who survived and all those who perished, and to
remember them not just as victims, but also as individuals
who hoped and loved and dreamed just like us.''
We must remember them not only with our words and prayers,
but with our deeds--working to ensure that the sacred phrase
``Never Again,'' never becomes mechanical language, never
drains of meaning.
Elie Weisel teaches, ``If we forget, we are guilty, we are
accomplices.''
We must remember the courageous prisoners, soldiers,
resistance fighters, and ordinary civilians--Soviets, Poles,
Germans, Danes, Americans, and so many others--who risked
their lives and sacrificed so much to save others, reminding
us of the boundless human capacity for good.
Our burden is even greater as those who liberated the camps
are now in their eighties, and only a handful of
concentration camp survivors remain.
As death is taking those whom genocide spared, we must
respond to what Czeslaw Milosz called ``the command to
participate actively in history.'' We must renew our
commitment to fight for freedom and against intolerance.
Anti-semitism, hatred, and racism remain deep and troubling
facts of modern life, the
world over. The memory of the atrocities committed at
Auschwitz and throughout Europe must steel our resolve to
fight every form of intolerance and inhumanity.
The Holocaust proves many sad truths. One is that modernity
is not an inoculation against genocide.
The pillars of modernity--science and technology--are
powerful forces. Perverted for evil by the Nazis, but also
sources of unlimited hope, opportunity and transformative
change.
My father, who eventually came to the United States to
study engineering, taught me about the power of technology to
transform lives for the better.
Let us fight so that technology is deployed to spread
knowledge, to educate, to ensure that people in all corners
of the world know of death-camp victims, survivors, and
liberators.
Let us fight so that technology is used to shine a light on
oppression and intolerance, to illuminate persecution and
dehumanization, to take oppression and mass murder out of the
shadows.
We know that the Nazis sought to shut off from the rest of
the world the unspeakable killing that went on here. We know
that for the Nazis control of the flow of information was an
imperative, an SS boot on the free flow of news.
Let us fight for freedom. For fundamental freedoms
disregarded too often and tragically in the 20th century,
fundamental freedoms that, as Secretary of State Hillary
Clinton has urged, we must enshrine as core principles in the
2lst century--freedom of expression, freedom of worship,
freedom from want, freedom from fear, and freedom to connect.
The freedom of information is essential, while also no
substitute for the power of actual places to teach and
instruct. It is a moral imperative to preserve Auschwitz and
other physical sites of remembrance, because they shock us
into an understanding that ideas alone cannot.
As the survivors continue to leave us, places like this
take on an even greater importance. Because places like
Auschwitz aren't really mute. In their unspeaking way, they
tell us of the unspeakable.
The former prisoners who first proposed a memorial and
museum at Auschwitz-Birkenau knew this. This place, and
others like it, stands as a refutation of those who insist
the Holocaust never happened--a denial of the truth that is
baseless, ignorant, and driven by hatred.
The great American writer Mark Twain said: ``A lie travels
halfway around the world before the truth puts its shoes
on.'' Today's haters are using old and new tools to foster
Holocaust denial and mass murder. Let us come together to
counter those efforts. Let us work together to make sure the
facts of the Holocaust and its lessons remain fresh for each
new generation.
My daughter, Lilah, is five years old--the same age as my
father when he and his parents made their escape from Nazi-
occupied Belgium.
My son, Aaron, is three years old--the same age as his
mom's father in Nazi-occupied Holland when his parents handed
him over to be hidden by righteous non-Jewish heroes who
risked their lives to save people they didn't know.
We preserve Auschwitz-Birkenau so that children all over
the world like Lilah, Aaron, and their older brother Jake can
visit and absorb the full dimensions of the unthinkable
tragedy that occurred here.
Bella Rabinovitch is gone, but her spirit lives on in eight
grandchildren, 21 great-grandchildren, and 45 great-great-
grandchildren, each a living legacy to the victory over Nazi
oppression. In Israel and throughout the world, Jews and
other groups singled out by the Nazis for extermination
survive and thrive.
Bella's spirit also lives on in those who liberated
Auschwitz-Birkenau three years after her death; and in those
here participating 65 years later in this multi-national,
multi-generational recognition that the horrors she and so
many others witnessed and suffered must never be permitted to
recur.
We are humbled by the survivors. We honor the liberators.
We mourn the victims.
In their name, we say: Yitgadal Vyitkadash Shme Raba.
In their name, we pledge to remember.
In their name, we pledge: Never Again.