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"I am a Jew. My mother is a Jew..."

I don't know what kind of Jew Daniel Pearl was -- if he went to synagogue regularly or thought about keeping kosher. And it just doesn't matter.

by

These days in Israel, I've noticed that cab drivers no longer only say "have a nice day" when you get out of the cab. Instead they say, "Have a quiet day." By that, they mean: "Let's hope no one dies today." Because it seems that almost every day comes another horror – two teenagers blown up in a pizza shop, an old man bludgeoned to death in a soccer stadium just inside Palestinian territory, a mother and her developmentally disabled daughter shot in their home by a demon who will later be proclaimed a hero by people who live a half hour's drive from me...

Not every few months, or few weeks; the unthinkable is occurring so frequently that thought stops.

With each headline, I pause and reflect... and it is too much and I close my eyes tightly. I try to comprehend how this happens, how can they do this...

But I understand that I cannot understand.


On Friday, shortly before I ran out for Shabbat, I saw that Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal reporter, had been killed by his captors. I can't say that I was surprised. But, still, I had a moment – longer even than usual – where I grieved.

I read the obituaries: about his joviality, his love of music, his propensity for walking around the newsroom in bare feet. And the reports were now "releasing" the information that Daniel Pearl was Jewish. To us – to Jews – this came as no surprise. His name, his face... we already knew that. And as silly as it seemed that his captors might not know it themselves, I understood why his family had asked that it not be reported.

It wasn't until after Shabbat that I read what Daniel Pearl's last words were:
"I am a Jew. My mother is a Jew..."

It was the last thing he uttered before one of the captors slit his throat.

That was apparently the last thing he uttered before one his captors stepped up behind him and slit his throat. Then they beheaded him, and they videotaped the entire grisly spectacle. Those words – they beheaded him – must be said in a whisper. They don't make sense, even to me – and I live in a place where children are killed for eating pizza.

They beheaded him.

Things like that don't happen. The gruesomeness of it, the barbarism...

But that's not what stuck in my head.

He was a Jew and his mother was a Jew.

I don't know what "kind" of Jew he was – if he went to synagogue regularly or thought about keeping kosher, if he considered himself a member of any of the particular "streams" of Judaism (maybe he was Refoconservadoxal) or not, or if his pretty wife is Jewish, or if he planned on giving the son she is carrying a bris.

And it just doesn't matter.

This is something that the wicked men who killed him understand, sometimes, much better than we do. Whether he was right or left, whether he was completely assimilated or wildly and fervently observant – Daniel Pearl was just a Jew.

As I sat reading eulogies, with tears brimming in my eyes, Mordechai's admonition to Esther came into my head: "Do not imagine that you will be able to escape in the king's palace any more than any other Jew."

Just like the old man beaten to death in a soccer field, like the teenagers eating pizza, the mother and daughter... They all committed the same crime: Being a Jew.

I do not understand.

This past Shabbat, we read Parshat Zachor, when the entire congregation repeats: "Remember what Amalek did to you on the way..."

Amalek led his tribe in an attack on the Jews as they wearily made their way out of Egypt. His deeds were most dastardly: he attacked the Jews' rear, where the old and sick and weakest were. Ironically, he was a grandson of Esau's – and therefore not-so-distantly related to the Jews. And yet he attacked just after the miraculous splitting of the Red Sea: He feared neither the Jews nor God.

Why did he do it? Our sages answer simply: because Amalek was evil.

Not forgetting what Amalek did to us on means remembering that there is such a thing as simple wickedness, and remembering Amalek rebukes the notion that everyone is motivated by some sort of rational self-interest.

Evil deserves only to be eradicated.

Thousands of people were slaughtered as they sat in their offices in New York and there are those who say we must "understand" why those who perpetrated the deed did so.

Evil cannot be simply explained by reason. Evil deserves not to be understood, twisted into some shape that we recognize as rational behavior: Evil deserves only to be eradicated. Our charge to remember Amalek confronts us with that.

We so want to rationalize evil into something we can wrap our intellects around: We want to believe that Hitler had some sort of gruesome Jewish kindergarten teacher and acted out his frustrations on the whole Jewish people. Mordechai set off Haman's dreadful inferiority complex. And maybe Amalek himself had appallingly low self-esteem?

No.

Nor can we any better understand the actions of the men who stepped in front of a video camera and murdered Danny Pearl.

"I am a Jew. My mother is a Jew..."

When he said that, they killed him. We know for what he was executed, what crime he committed.

Parshat Zachor concludes: "It shall be that when God lets you rest from all your surrounding enemies in the land that God gave you as a heritage to bequeath, you are to erase the memory of Amalek from beneath the heaven. Do not forget." And, just like the old man in the soccer field, and the mother and daughter, and the kids in the pizza shop, we must never forget what Amalek did to Danny Pearl.

Marianne Pearl said that Danny Pearl's spirit lives on.

And after I am galled each time that I can go on with my day after the choking pause when I hear about the old man, or the mother and daughter, or the kids... or Danny Pearl, I know that going on, going downtown, refusing to be cowed by the fear the modern-day Amaleks spread, continuing to live life as a proud, committed Jew – that is the only victory I understand.

Published: February 23, 2002


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Visitor Comments: 114

(114) Donna Schaper, October 17, 2007 12:55 PM

Amazing part of the story I did not know.

Read this. It is good.

(113) Masha Chaya Mastin, April 13, 2006 12:00 AM

awesome,well written and this woman can write very well

It shows no matter hard we try to runaway from our Jewishness it always creeps up on us.He tried and so did I try but, we always come back to our faith.Before the doctors knocked me out for my hysterectomy I proclaimed the Oneness of HaShem with the Shema.Through the Redemption to bring Moshiach NOW!

(112) Joseph Golder, March 3, 2006 12:00 AM

Thank You Liba

As a Jew reclaiming my faith I find your words both educational and powerful. My resolve is only hardened evey time I hear a anti-jewish joke or slur. To hear that Daniel Pearl's last words were a testament to his faith, were truly inspirational. G-d bless Daniel Pearl and his family. My the blanket of G-d shield us from our enimies.

(111) John Davis, April 28, 2003 12:00 AM

I am not a Jew, my Mother is not a Jew...and ..yet

As a human being, as any human being would be, and should be, I am horrified by the display of barbarism, I don't know what to say...how have we, I mean, we all, as Citizens of the World, let this barbarity occur?
Is not 'civilisation' 7,000 years old?
Many people throughout the world have suffered. But to see the evil sent against one lonely person..it is a crystalisation of the evil sent against millions, of Jews, Gentiles, Atheists, Catholics and Protestants.
And many more.
One of the most evil men in all of our world's evil history, Josef Stalin, said...one death is a tragedy, a million is a statistic.
Daniel's death gives the lie to this.
One man's lonely end is a reminder, and a beacon to us all, those who, against all the 'evidence' believe in the humanity of the human race.
I am not a Jew, my Mother is not a Jew.
But I am...an old-fashioned, Irish, Roman Catholic...Jew.
And so is my Mother, and my Father, an Englishman, in solidarity, a Roman Catholic...Jew.
And, for what little I am worth, I shall pray,(and I hope I do not give offense, by doing so) and continue so, for a lonely, frightened, human being.
One of my Tribe.
The Tribe of Humanity.
As are we all.
God Bless.
I am sorry, if I have given offense.
I don't mean to do so.
I mean to remember this good human being, in my thoughts and prayers...no doubt, he was not perfect, no doubt he was flawed...but that is the nature of our shared humanity, I know this, because I am more flawed than most.
My eternal sympathy to his loving family. And remember, there is a world after this, without evil, without pain.
Thank you.
Edward John Davis.

(110) Anonymous, December 14, 2002 12:00 AM

American Journalist

As I say when I'm writing they didn't kill him because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, or because he was a journalist.
it was because he was an AMERCIAN Jew.

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