DEDICATION OF THE UNITED STATES HOLOCAUST MEMORIAL MUSEUM
White House
THE WHITE HOUSE
Office of the Press Secretary
____________________________________________________________________
For Immediate Release April 22, 1993
REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT
AT DEDICATION OF THE UNITED STATES HOLOCAUST MEMORIAL MUSEUM
Washington, D.C.
12:43 P.M. EDT
Mrs. Gore, President and Mrs. Herzog, distinguished leaders of nations
from around the world who have come here to be with us today, the
leaders of our Congress and the citizens of America, and especially to
Mr. Meyerhoff and all of those who worked so hard to make this day
possible, and even more to those who have spoken already on this
program, whose lives and words bear eloquent witness to why we have come
here today.
It is my purpose on behalf of the United States to
commemorate this magnificent museum, meeting as we do among memorials
within the site of the memorial to Thomas Jefferson, the author of our
freedom. Near where Abraham Lincoln is seated, who gave his life so
that our nation might extend its mandate of freedom to all who live
within our borders. We gather near the place where the legendary and
recently departed Marian Anderson sang songs of freedom, and where
Martin Luther King summoned us all to dream and work together.
Here on the town square of our national life, on this 50th
anniversary of the Warsaw uprising, at Eisenhower Plaza on Raoul
Wallenberg Place, we dedicate the United States Holocaust Museum, and so
bind one of the darkest lessons in history to the hopeful soul of
America. (Applause.)
As we have seen already today, this museum is not for the
dead alone, nor even for the survivors who have been so beautifully
represented; it is perhaps most of all for those of us who were not
there at all. To learn the lessons, to deepen our memories and our
humanity, and to transmit these lessons from generation to generation.
The Holocaust, to be sure, transformed the entire 20th
century, sweeping aside the enlightenment hope that evil somehow could
be permanently vanished from the face of the earth; demonstrating there
is no war to end all war; that the struggle against the basest
tendencies of our nature must continue forever and ever.
The Holocaust began when the most civilized country of its
day unleashed unprecedented acts of cruelty and hatred abetted by
perversions of science, philosophy, and law. A culture which produced
Goethe, Schiller, and Beethoven, then brought forth Hitler and Himmler.
The merciless hordes who, themselves, were educated as others who were
educated stood by and did nothing. Millions died for who they were, how
they worshiped, what they believed, and who they loved. But one people
-- the Jews -- were immutably marked for total destruction. They who
were among their nation's most patriotic citizens, whose extinction
served no military purpose nor offered any political gain, they who
threatened no one were slaughtered by an efficient, unrelenting
bureaucracy, dedicated solely to a radical evil with a curiously
antiseptic title: The Final Solution.
The Holocaust reminds us forever that knowledge divorced
from values can only serve to deepen the human nightmare; that a head
without a heart is not humanity. (Applause.)
For those of us here today representing the nations of the
West, we must live forever with this knowledge, even as our fragmentary
awareness of crimes grew into indisputable facts, far too little was
done. Before the war even started, doors to liberty were shut. And
even after the United States and the Allies attacked Germany, rail lines
to the camps within miles of military significant target were left
undisturbed.
Still there were, as has been noted, many deeds of singular courage and
resistance. The Danes and the Bulgarians, men like Emmanuel
Ringelbaum, who died after preserving in metal milk cans the history of
the Warsaw ghetto. Janusz Korczak, who stayed with children until last
breaths at Treblinka. And Raoul Wallenberg, who perhaps rescued as many
as 100,000 Hungarian Jews. And those known and those never to be known,
who manned the thin line of righteousness, who risked and lost their
lives to save others, accruing no advantage to themselves, but nobly
serving the larger cause of humanity.
As the war ended, these rescuers were joined by our
military forces who, alongside the allied armies, played the decisive
role in bringing the Holocaust to an end. Overcoming the shock of
discovery, they walked survivors from those dark, dark places into the
sweet sunlight of redemption, soldiers and survivors being forever
joined in history and humanity. This place is their place, too. For
them as for us, to memorialize the past and steel ourselves for the
challenges of tomorrow.
We must all now frankly admit that there will come a time
in the not-too-distant future when the Holocaust will pass from living
reality and shared experience to memory and to history. To preserve
this shared history of anguish, to keep it vivid and real so that evil
can be combatted and contained, we are here to consecrate this memorial
and contemplate its meaning for us; for more than any other event, the
Holocaust gave rise to the universal declaration of human rights, the
charter of our common humanity. And it contributed, indeed, made
certain the long overdue creation of the nation of Israel. (Applause.)
Now, with the demise of communism and the rise of democracy
out of the ashes of former communist states, with the end of the Cold
War we must not only rejoice in so much that is good in
the world, but recognize that not all in this new world is good. We
learn again and again that the world has yet to run its course of
animosity and violence.
Ethnic cleansing in the former Yugoslavia is but the most
brutal and blatant and ever-present manifestation of what we see also
with the oppression of the Kurds in Iraq, the abusive treatment of the
Baha'i in Iran, the endless race-based violence in South Africa. And in
many other places we are reminded again and again how fragile are the
safeguards of civilization.
So do the depraved and insensate bands now loose in the
modern world. Look at the liars and the propagandists among us, the
skinheads and the Liberty Lobby here at home; the Afrikaaners resistance
movement in South Africa; the Radical Party of Serbia, the Russian
blackshirts. With them we must all compete for the interpretation and
the preservation of history of what we know and how we should behave.
The evil represented in this museum is incontestible. But
as we are its witness, so must we remain its adversary in the world in
which we live. So we must stop the fabricators of history and the
bullies as well. Left unchallenged, they would still prey upon the
powerless; and we must not permit that to happen again.
To build bulwarks against this kind of evil, we know there
is but one path to take. It is the direction opposite that which
produced the Holocaust, it is that which recognizes that among all our
differences, we still cannot ever separate ourselves one from another.
We must find in our diversity our common humanity. We must reaffirm
that common humanity, even in the darkest and deepest of our own
disagreements.
Sure, there is new hope in this world. The emergence of
new, vibrant democratic states, many of whose leaders are here today,
offers a shield against the inhumanity we remember. And it is
particularly appropriate that this museum is here in this magnificent
city, an enduring tribute to democracy. It is a constant reminder of
our duty to build and nurture the institutions of public tranquility and
humanity.
It occurs to me that some may be reluctant to come inside
these doors because the photographs and remembrance of the past impart
more pain than they can bear. I understand that. I walked through the
museum on Monday night and spent more than two hours. But I think that
our obligations to history and posterity alike should beckon us all
inside these doors. It is a journey that I hope every American who
comes to Washington will take, a journey I hope all the visitors to this
city from abroad will make.
I believe that this museum will touch the life of everyone
who enters and leaves everyone forever changed; a place of deep sadness
and a sanctuary of bright hope; an ally of education against ignorance,
of humility, against arrogance, an investment in a secure future against
whatever insanity lurks ahead. If this museum can mobilize morality,
then those who have perished will thereby gain a measure of immortality.
I know this is a difficult day for those we call
"survivors." Those of us born after the war cannot yet fully comprehend
their sorrow or pain. But if our expressions are inadequate to this
moment, at least may I share these words inscribed in the Book of
Wisdom: "the souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, and no
torment shall touch them. In the eyes of fools they seem to die.
They're passing away was thought to be an affliction. And their going
forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace.
On this day of triumphant reunion and celebration, I hope
those who have survived have found their peace. Our task, with God's
blessing upon our souls and the memories of the fallen in our hearts and
minds, is to the ceaseless struggle to preserve human rights and
dignity. We are now strengthened and will be forever strengthened by
remembrance. I pray that we shall prevail.
(Applause.)
© Copyright 1993 US White House Office of the Press Secretary
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