Over the past few days, I have been seeking for the words to describe what Auschwitz means to us today? And as a non-Jew, as a Muslim, I have been defining in my mind what message Auschwitz carries to people of all religions all over our world?
Auschwitz was, in its broadest sense, a crime against humanity. Such a phrase presupposes the existence of a common humanity, a sense of humanism that is able to judge and abhor crimes committed against our fellow human beings.
Such crimes must also serve as warnings. The Final Solution was not simply a temporary aberration, an historically frozen event. We know that the capacity to commit crimes of this kind - or even simply to allow them to happen by remaining silent - is also part of the human makeup.
We also now know that the crimes committed against our parents and grandparents, and even our great grandparents, may mark a family for many generations. They do not end with the death of a victim or a survivor as our own Truth Commission has shown. History and memory help teach us all about what should never be allowed to happen.
I think, above all, that this day has come to express what we mean when we talk of our common humanity, when we talk about sharing, about partnerships and about how we can all make sure that nothing like Auschwitz ever, ever happens again.
I would like to end with a short quotation from Primo Levi, whose remarkable lack of bitterness despite his harrowing experience at Auschwitz, seems to me best to express our common humanity and love of justice:
“I must admit that if I had in front of me one of our persecutors of those days, certain known faces, certain old lies, I would be tempted to hate, and with violence too; but exactly because I am not a Fascist or a Nazi, I refuse to give way to this temptation. I believe in reason and discussion as supreme instruments of progress, and therefore I repress hatred even within myself: I prefer justice.”
