Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to have printed in the Record an important speech given by my colleague and friend, the distinguished senior Senator from Delaware, Mr. Biden, to the Libyan People's Congress on March 3, 2004. Salam…
Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to have printed in the Record an important speech given by my colleague and friend, the distinguished senior Senator from Delaware, Mr. Biden, to the Libyan People's Congress on March 3, 2004.
Salam ale Qum.
Thank you for inviting me to speak to you. I traveled a
great distance to get here, but in so many ways, in recent
years, the distance between Libya and America has seemed even
greater, almost insurmountable. Now, there is real hope that
we will bridge the great divide that has kept us apart. But
there is still much work to be done. It is in that spirit of
hope that I stand before you . . . and that I send my
greetings to the Libyan people who are watching these
proceedings in their homes. At the outset, let me tell you
who I am and why I am here. I am a United States Senator. I
represent a small portion of my country--the state of
Delaware, which is located between Washington and New York.
As you know, in America there are no Kings or Princes, no
Lords or Dukes, no Emirs or Sultans, Like you, we fought a
war against colonialism for our freedom. The central belief
in our system is that each individual should have an equal
opportunity to succeed.
At home, I am surrounded by very strong women. A mother who
instilled in her children the values of faith and community.
A sister who was better at her studies than I was, and upon
whose guidance our large family depends. A wife who is a
respected professor in our community, not just smart, but
also wise. And a daughter who knows she can be anything she
wants to be.
Like most of the nearly 300 million Americans whose
families arrived on our shores from every corner of the
globe, I was not born to wealth or stature. I was not
promised anything other than the opportunity granted to every
American--the opportunity to go as far as I could dream.
I am sure that Libyan parents share the same hope for their
children. I am sure it is a universal hope--but not one that
can be realized in many countries. That's one of the things
that makes my country special.
I have served in the United States Senate for 31 years,
elected democratically six times by the men and women of
Delaware. Men and women. Young and old. Black and white,
Hispanic and Asian. Christians, Jews, Hindus and yes, Arab-
Americans and Muslims. You may not know that there are almost
as many Muslims in the United States as there are citizens of
Libya. And there are more Arab-Americans than all the people
who live in Tripoli. Their votes count the same as everyone
else.
I belong to the Democratic party. President Bush leads the
other major political party--the Republican party. But I am
here not as a representative of my party . . . not as a
representative of Christian-Americans . . . not as a
representative of white Americans. I am here as a
representative of my country who believes, along with many
other Americans, that this is a moment of great possibility
for Libya and for the relationship between our countries. But
many of us remain skeptical.
For too long, our relationship has been marked by
hostility. In fact, I have a personal connection to the
terrible act that set back our relations for years.
I am a graduate of Syracuse University Law School. There is
a wall at my school, erected to the memory of 270 people--
including 35 young students who never returned home from
their studies abroad. They lost their lives when Pan Am 103
was bombed out of the sky. Thirty-five is a number, a
statistic. But each of those young people had a name. Each
had a mother and a father, a sister and brother, and friends
who loved them--and who still suffer their loss every single
day. The victims were young men and women like Ken Bissett.
He was an artist and a writer. Like Eric and Jason Coker,
twin brothers. Eric was studying economics. Jason wanted to
be a journalist. He might have been here today, reporting on
their significant event. And like a kind hearted young women
named Keesha Weedon who wanted to help troubled children.
Each of these young people had a past--and each had a future
cut short by violence. Imagine if one of them had been your
son or your daughter. Think about that for just a moment.
Your government's admission of responsibility for the bombing
of Pan Am 103 was not only necessary--it was the right thing
to do. And it was consistent with your traditions. In the
words of the Koran: ``As for him who shall repent and believe
and do right, he happily may be one of the successful.'' It
appears now that your government wants to change in order to
become ``one of the successful.''
Americans will never forget the past. But we cannot allow
it to stop us from building a more peaceful world that can
prevent such tragedies in the future. That must be the legacy
of those who lost their lives, and for those who carry their
memory. And so while American remain wary, we also stand
ready to walk with you if you are willing to take the
difficult steps necessary to rejoin the community of nations.
By accepting responsibility for the past . . . agreeing to
abandon its weapons of mass destruction program . . . and
joining the war on terrorism . . . your government is
beginning to end Libya's political and economic isolation.
But what I want to say to you today is this: do not stop
there. Aim higher. Go further.
For centuries, the people of Libya were denied the
opportunity to fulfill their God-given potential. First, you
were held back by outside colonizers. Then, you were led
astray by misguided ideologies. The result is a great gulf
between your rightful expectations and the reality of your
lives.
You are right to expect good schools for your children and
first rate doctors for your parents. You are right to expect
to own your home and to build your own business. You are
right to expect newspapers with competing ideas and an
internet connection in every home. You are right to expect
the freedom to speak your mind without fear of being thrown
in jail. So the question is: How do you make sure that
history does not repeat itself and that you are not denied
the opportunity to which you are entitled?
Your economic potential is extraordinary because of the
natural resources buried in the ground. But your national
potential is limitless, because of the human resources that
are spread all across this land.
You have tremendous oil power. But it will only be
meaningful if you use it to unleash the brain power of the
Libyan people--especially the awesome potential of your
youth. In fact, oil can be more of a burden than a benefit if
it used as an excuse not to develop all aspects of your
society . . . and if its proceeds are not widely shared and
wisely invested in education, training and a strong
foundation for the future.
Let me offer you a concrete example. It concerns patents--
the legal protection the world gives to new ideas and
inventions. They're a good measure of the quality of a
country's educational system, its entrepreneurship, its
innovation and its rule of law. Between 1980 and 1999, the
nine leading Arab economies--each built on oil wealth--
registered a mere 370 patents in my country. During that same
period, South Korea alone registered 16,328 patents. Why? In
the 21st century, human resources are the true
wealth of any nation. You have a historic opportunity to free
those human resources to their full potential. I urge you to
seize it.
It may strike you as presumptuous that an American
politician is offering advice that you did not seek. After
all, my country has its own problems. Let me be clear: I have
not come here to impose American views on you or to suggest
we have all the answers. But I know that more than ever
before, your fate and our future are joined. There was a time
when the United States would have been satisfied with the
status quo in the Middle East, North Africa and here in
Libya. But the events of September 11, 2001 marked a turning
point in how my country views the world, and specifically how
it sees this region.
Americans now understand that the promise of our time is
matched by peril. Ideas and innovations can travel the planet
at the stroke of a computer key, spreading progress far and
wide. But the same technology and openness that power these
forces of construction also enable forces of destruction. As
a result, problems in any one part of our planet can plague
the entire world, including the United States. There is no
mountain high enough or ocean wide enough to protect us. The
question for America is what, if anything, can we do about
this new reality? Make no mistake: the United States will
meet and defeat any threat to the safety of our people and
the security of our country. We have the will and we have the
way to prevail.
But our physical prowess alone cannot solve the problem. We
are engaged in much more than a contest of force. We are
engaged in a war of ideas. I am convinced that war will be
won by those who offer hope, not hatred . . . progress, not
paralysis . . . a vision for the future, not an obsession
with the past.
Those who attacked us on September 11 were beyond the reach
of reason. Their blind hatred was not the bitter fruit of
poverty--they were relatively prosperous people. It was not
the product of Islam--they perverted a great faith. It was
not the result of American's support for Israel, as much as
you may disagree with it. Osama Bin Laden almost never
mentioned the Palestinian cause before attacks. His focus was
his own country, Saudi Arabia.
No, America's aggressors were foot soldiers in a new war
pitting believers in freedom, openness, and tolerance against
the forces of radical fundamentalism and regression. It is
not a clash between civilizations, but within civilizations--
especially within the Arab and Muslim worlds.
Today, violent radicals have turned their terror on us. But
make no mistake: they regard the large majority of moderate
Muslims as their enemies as well. Hundreds of Muslims were
among the more than 3000 dead in the World Trade Center and
the victims of attacks in Saudi Arabia, Turkey and Morocco.
And if the radicals succeed, you will be their victims in
another way as well, condemned to a future of hopelessness
and despair.
I believe that the cause of hope and the tide of history is
on the side of the moderates and modernizers--in this region,
in my region and around the world. Our challenge is to reject
their cynicism and hatred and to build an alliance of
tolerance and progress.
We each have a job to do. Our job--America's job--is first
and foremost to listen to you--to listen to your ideas, as
well as your fears and concerns. And to do a much better job
explaining our ideas and intentions.
But even if we do that well, human nature is the same world
wide. It is rare to feel good about your neighbor's new car
when you've just lost your job. America's military might,
economic power and cultural reach make us present in people's
lives on every continent, in every country. Sometimes we do
not recognize the conflicting emotions this can produce:
respect and admiration, but also envy, resentment and fear.
There will always be those who do not like specific
policies we advocate or the way we pursue them. That is your
right. The burden is on us to make our case . . . and to have
faith in our power to persuade, not just coerce. It may
surprise you that most Americans don't like the fact we're
the world's sole superpower. They understand it thrusts upon
them a responsibility they did not seek and would rather not
bear. For example, the people I represent in Delaware
understood but did not like the fact I voted to send their
sons and daughters to Kosovo. They went to Kosovo to prevent
the genocidal slaughter of hundreds of thousands of Muslim
men, women and children by Milosevic.
For better or worse, one result of our standing is that
people around the world think the U.S. is both the cause of,
and answer to, their concerns.
I am proud that America is, more often than not, the
solution rather than the problem. I am also proud of our
generosity. Like your tradition of Zakat, we feel a moral
obligation to share our good fortune. Every year, we send
tens of billions of dollars far from our shores to help the
impoverished . . . support economic development . . . combat
AIDS. We should do more. We already do a lot. But it is also
true that in the Middle East and North Africa, repressive
political systems and closed economies generate deep anger,
resentment, and extremism. I know that the United States has
seemed, at best, indifferent to the plight of the oppressed
and, at worst, complicit with corrupt and autocratic
regimes--despite our generosity.
In the past, we've justified that support in different
ways: the Cold War struggle against communism . . . the
preference for stability over chaos . . . the need to ensure
a steady supply of oil. the tragedy of 9-11 has taught
America the hard way that we cannot afford such policies. As
President Bush said recently: ``stability cannot be purchased
at the expense of liberty.''
Americans of all political persuasions agree that our
security requires us to more actively support your
aspirations to choose your own leaders . . . to express
your own opinions . . . to associate freely with others .
. . to worship in peace . . . to be treated with dignity.
In a word, our security requires us to more actively
support your desire for liberal democracy. That is the
right thing to do. And it is the surest path to realizing
your potential and your dreams. Democracy is first and
foremost about preventing the concentration of power into
the hands of the few . . . or the one. Elections are
necessary--but not enough. Democracy is about creating
individual rights and building independent institutions:
courts of law, political parties, a free press,
transparent government, property ownership, a private
sector, non-governmental organizations. It is about
schools that teach tolerance to your children, and teach
them to think for themselves. It is about making women
genuine partners in building a modern society.
Nothing about democracy is incompatible with Islam. For
example, since the days of the Prophet, the shura--a council
where community leaders gather to make decisions through
discussion--has been a Muslim concept.
I know many resist change because of the uncertainty it
brings. I understand the tension people feel between holding
on to traditions that are comfortable and embracing
modernity. In my own country, people contend with that
tension every day. For example, free trade means that
Americans have more choice and pay less for the many things
in our stores. But it also means American jobs are lost to
countries where people are willing to work for lower pay.
That has made millions of Americans--despite our prosperity--
angry and afraid.
So each of us, in different ways, has to contend with
powerful forces of change and the uncertainty they bring.
Every nation must find its own way. Let me share with you, in
all humility, the path my country has chosen and some lessons
we have learned.
Many see the economic, cultural and military power of the
United States. What they may not understand is that those
strengths flow from our democratic system, not the other way
around. They flow from the freedom we afford every American
to think, to question and to create. There are other paths to
prosperity. South Korea once enjoyed extraordinary growth
without democracy. Now, so does China. But I am convinced
that in the long run, the freedoms we enjoy are a tremendous
advantage in competing with other countries in the
information age.
Our strength also flows from the great diversity of our
people. More than two centuries ago, our founders recognized
that America's enduring mission would be ``to form a more
perfect union''. In other words, they understood the
challenge of forging a single nation from many different
parts. But they were confident that in working to overcome
our differences, Americans would constantly move forward.
They were right. My country was born in the midst of
slavery; we still struggle to overcome the legacy of racism.
But we can also say that African Americans have made great
strides and are making great contributions to our society.
The rights we enjoy and the institutions we built give
every American the power to shine a light on the mistakes we
make, and to demand that they be corrected. And the rules we
live by protect us from the excess of absolute power . . .
and have helped us build a country where each individual has
the opportunity, but not the guarantee, to achieve his or her
potential.
Please do not misunderstand me. I mean no disrespect. But
the nations of the Arab world could be doing so much more to
harness the enormous potential of their people.
Consider this: the combined gross domestic product of all
Arab countries in 1999 was less than that of a single
European country--Spain. Think about that for a moment. And
then think back a thousand years. Spain was part of a great
Arab empire which encompassed most of the Mediterranean and
the Middle East. Why did you thrive then? It was not your
armies alone. It was your ideas, your civilization, your
culture, your openness. Why has this one small territory--
then called Al Andalus, now called Spain--outpaced the rest
of the Arab world combined today?
Don't take the answer from me. Listen to the leading Arab
scholars who recently completed a remarkable study of Arab
Human Development, published by the United Nations. It speaks
to the need across the Arab world to make progress in three
critical areas: Empowering women, spreading knowledge, and
expanding freedom. This is an incredibly difficult
challenge--but also an extraordinary opportunity. 70% of your
population is below the age of 30. Unlocking their minds and
unleashing their talents can be a deep source of strength.
Bringing women into the work place will boost your economies
. . . just as women leaders past and present in Pakistan . .
. in Bangladesh . . . in Turkey . . . and in Indonesia
energized the Muslim world's politics. Giving your people
access to the internet will connect them to a vast supply of
knowledge and power your progress.
The United States wants to help you seize these
opportunities in a spirit of cooperation. We are ready to
share our experiences . . . to make investments in your
economies . . . to welcome you into the international
community. We are prepared to build these partnerships
because it is in our interest.
It is up to you to take the necessary, important,
unavoidable risks. The choice is yours. You can merely
survive, with an economy that generates just enough wealth to
get by and a society that provides few freedoms and
opportunities.
Or you can thrive. I am convinced you can thrive. My
conviction follows from your history. At a time when
Europeans were barely emerging from the Dark Ages, the light
of civilization was shinning brightly in the Arab world.
Scholars outpaced their European counterparts in math,
science and other disciplines of modernity. Philosophers and
poets, architects and artists enlightened the world from
Cairo to Baghdad to Damascus to Granada.
I believe with all my heart that you can build a future as
glorious as your past. And I am convinced that my country has
a profound stake in your success.
Let me leave you with the words of a great Arab-American
poet, Gibran Khalil Gibran, that speak powerfully to this
time and this challenge: ``O land veiled to our sight from
ages past
Which way to you? Which path? How long? How wide? What
wasteland hems you in? What mountain range Enfolds your
realm? Which one of us the guide? Are you our hope? Or are
you a mirage? In hearts where none but fruitless quests
reside . . .
``O source of knowledge where our forbears dwelt, Where
truth they worshiped, beauty was their creed; Uncharted
source, unknown, unreachable Whether by crested wave or
racing steed, Neither in East nor West can you be found, In
southern reaches nor in northern field, Not in the skies we
find you, nor the seas, Nor pathless deserts which beguile
our art; Deep in the soul you burst, like light, like fire,
You are within my chest, my pounding heart.''
Thank you for listening.