FRENCH PRIME MINISTER DEEPLY MOVED BY REMEMBRANCE CEREMONY

Before joining the ceremony at the Square of Jewish Martyrs, the French Prime Minister went to the Memorial of the Holocaust to meditate in front of the Wall of Names, walls bearing the names of the 76,000 Jews arrested and deported from France during the Second World War. Accompanied by his wife and one of his daughters, Dominique de Villepin lit a candle in memory of the assassinated Jews.

During the official function at the Square of the Jewish Martyrs, in front of a monument in memory of the 12,884 Jews including 4,051 children who were arrested by the French police and held for several days in the cycling stadium, Dominique de Villepin started to read his speech (see below). When he reached the passage quoting the notes thrown out of the trains driving the children to the places where they were murdered, his voice faltered and he cried.

In his speech (see below), CRIF’s President Roger Cukierman expressed his concern that this commemoration must not become a “soulless ritual, without any public participation.” President Cukierman also raised the question of anti-Semitism in France, both issues being answered by the French Prime Minister.

At the same moment, commemorative ceremonies were being held throughout France.

CRIF’s President Roger Cukierman said:

“This ceremony commemorates one of the darkest periods in the history of humanity.

It was 1942, the beginning of the great massacre of Europe’s Jews.

12,884 Jews were rounded up on the 16th and 17th of July 1942 and taken to the Vel d’Hiv, so close to where we find ourselves today. This roundup took place following two years of ostracism through the imposition of a special status on Jews, which turned them into easy game. A roundup committed by Frenchmen. In uniform.

And among these Jews, so many were children that humanity could have expected to be scholars or poets, or more likely just ordinary people. Children without descent. These children of the Vel d’Hiv roundup, all so quickly sent off to the gas chambers, and not one survivor among all 4,051 of them.

Children whose photographs have been gathered by Serge Klarsfeld and his Association of the Sons and Daughters of Deportees, snapshots taken in a moment of happiness that nothing should have interrupted. They were posing, immaculately dressed in their Sunday best. And these children, just like their parents, were debased in conditions of shameful promiscuity. And then they were given over to the enemy, in cattle cars. And on arrival welcomed by dogs and soldiers, and that awful product of the Nazi mind: gas chambers and crematory ovens.

Little by little the survivors are disappearing. In twenty years time, who will come to the commemorations? They must not be allowed to become mere soulless ritual, without any public participation.

Some have dedicated their lives to the duty now incumbent on us. We owe indeed a respectful tribute to the surviving deportees who have been showing us the way in this duty of remembrance, people such as Henri Bulawko, President of the Association of Former Jewish Deportees, and Simone Veil who is a true role model for us as she presides the Foundation for Remembering the Holocaust, the role of which has become so essential.

This day has also become the day for paying tribute to the Righteous among the Nations designated by Yad Vashem. If indeed two-thirds of France’s Jews escaped the Nazis, it was because many French men and women refused to collaborate.

What is it that distinguished the Righteous from the indifferent? Not their intelligence, nor their education, but their conscience, their humanity, their respect for other people.

These isolated voices, coming from both Christian and secular, and often modest, backgrounds, dared in those days to speak out and say that Jews are human beings.

How could I ever forget the nuns who hid me as a child and saved my life, risking theirs? They showed the way with dignity. Yes, there are times in a human being’s existence when he or she may choose.

They are fleeting moments, which entitle one to be proud of one’s passage on this earth. These men, these women, all have one point in common: their modesty. They allowed their heart to direct their deeds.

The leaders of our country have become aware of the danger represented by anti-Semitism for the preservation of the principles that govern the French Republic. The historic speech by the President of the Republic on 16 July 1995, in which he denounced the responsibility of the Republic in the acts committed by the Vichy government, was a truly great moment of truth and honor, a foundational text. Today, the whole of the country’s democratic body politic shares the same determination.

How we love this France that firmly defends the values of the Republic!

We, the Jewish citizens of France, whose integration in the Republic has been a model of its kind for several centuries, stand as witnesses today of the generosity of France’s heartland.

We could have wished for this commemoration to take place in a serene climate. Indeed, since the beginning of the year anti-Semitic acts have lessened. But the roots of that evil remain. And we are witnessing a worrisome spread of anti-Semitic slogans.

The spectacle of violence before our eyes as we begin this third millennium only shows that mankind is not improving. The forces of hatred are being unleashed, particularly in their most dangerous form, that of religious fanaticism. Terrorist acts, suicide bombings are nothing less than a crime against humanity.

What needs to be done for tolerance to become a natural form of behavior between human beings and between nations?

It is up to each citizen, wherever they find themselves, to contribute to the effort of education in the respect of others. It is the role of parents, of teachers, journalists, politicians, business leaders, landlords, religious leaders, trade union leaders, in short each and everyone of us.

We owe it to the memory of our martyrs, we owe it to the way shown to us by the Righteous. To avoid the worst, let us with strength and courage draw the lessons of History!

In his answer to President Cukierman, French Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin said:

“I am deeply moved as I address you today. Before coming to your meeting, I
wanted to visit the Holocaust Memorial this morning, to pay my respects in
front of the wall bearing the names of the 76,000 Jews who were deported
from France, to light a candle of remembrance.

On 16th and 17th July 1942, 4,500 French policemen and gendarmes arrested
12,884 Jews in their homes and took them to the Vélodrome d'Hiver or Winter
Racetrack in Paris. Of those arrested, 4,051 children were separated
from their parents and were sent alone to the transit camps of Pithiviers
and Drancy. Not one of those children returned. I first want to observe a
moment of silence to remember those destroyed lives of which only names
remain.

On 16th and 17th July 1942, France sent those who where its lifeblood to
the crematoriums. In the early hours of the morning, it flouted its most
elementary values by acting as accomplices to murderers. Anticipating the
orders of the occupying forces, Laval, assisted by Bousquet and Darquier de
Pellepoix, recommended that no one be spared. Ten years ago, French
President Jacques CHIRAC, speaking on behalf of the entire French people,
admitted that "on that day France committed a wrong that can never be put
right".

All of you assembled here today have taught us what truly happened then:
families brutally woken up from their sleep, doors smashed open, people
hurriedly taken down staircases to embark on an unknown journey,
requisitioned municipal buses and vans belonging to the Paris police force, hours waiting, days spent in the sweltering heat of the Vel d'Hiv
without knowing why those arrested where there, what their final
destination was. You have also told us about acts of heroism and humanity
by French policemen, alas too few in number, who enabled children to
escape, in a dark corner, down a side street, from a fate they could not
have foreseen.

No photographs or records have remained. That black Thursday or der
fintzerer Donnerstig, could have unrecorded had you not been there to
perpetuate that day. Your testimony pulled the unthinkable out of oblivion.
You have been able to face your memories with their painful secrets and the
incomprehensible and harrowing events of your memory to enlighten ours.

I want to pay tribute to your courage here. I want to acknowledge the
patience and painstaking efforts of historians who have gathered individual
testimonies, official reports and papers, portraits and bibliographic data,
to these authentic documents and records and the heart-rendering images
that Serge KLARSFELD has compiled in his book: Memorial of Jewish Children
deported from France.

I would also like to quote the letters written by unknown people interned
at Vel d'Hiv and at Drancy, people who departed for a less crowded sky, as
Paul Celan said. Their words weigh on our consciences forever. Clara, aged 14,
deported to Auschwitz in convoy n°16 on 7th August 1942: "yesterday
children under the age of 10 were given milk, a slice of bread, a bar of
chocolate, a cake and some pasta. I don't know how much longer we can stand
this". Marc Moïse, eleven years old, writing on a ticket thrown from the
train that took him to the camps: "I am in a train but where is it going? I
swear I did nothing foolish to be here" Letters from people of all ages and
backgrounds that begin with the simple words: "My darling Mummy", "My
darling Daddy", and which no one other than us would have kept. Abandoned
words, words placed in a friendly hand or on a bench, words to reassure
friends, families and parents but which were mostly scattered on scorched
earth during the summer of 1942, I want this distress and despair to be an
integral part of us for ever.

*

We are at a decisive moment in the history of the commemoration of the
rounding up of Vel d'Hiv, a time when the poignant memory of the living may
still shed light on what they lived through, a time when words, your words,
are still possible.

More than ever, let us pass on what has driven and guided you for more than
sixty years. Nothing must be erased from this slow maturing process in our
consciences. If our common history is to live on, your words must be heard.
What you saw must be constant reminders for us and serve as a warning in
the future. I know that many of you still find the strength to go into
schools to talk about your experiences. I want to tell you here this
morning that your testimonies are precious and unique. What is stronger
than the voice of the person who witnesses events at first hand and who
talks about them, a person who has lived through the experience and who
shares it?

To you who bear testimony, we must reply with memory that enlarges and
enhances life. It is the only answer to all the doubts you faced during those
dramatic and traumatic times. To the withering of time we must reply with
the prayer to be on the path, revering the dawn which is central to your
heritage. You, Jews of France, must be certain that your children,
grandchildren, close friends and family will in turn be able to tell and
recall. You must be certain that the history books will record events that
were supposed to remain secret, that your testimonies will touch each
citizen and child. I want you to know that the authorities of your country
will stand guarantor for memory and respect. Against the fading of time, no
one will forget your luggage in the shadows nor the faces in the half
light. Your history is the history of the Republic that you have always
served, uniting you to it.


For each of us who contemplate our past with a lucid mind, who want to know
the facts and to understand what happened, memory acts as an unending
breath. Even in misfortune and shame, we have known courage and greatness.
Let us remember that 1942 was also a time when many of our fellow countrymen and women began rising up, to reject the prevailing anti-Semitic laws,
a time when some of them entered the Resistance movement. Let us remember
that many families, foundations and the Church took risks by hiding Jews
from the Occupying forces and from the Militia in those dark years.

We have erred and we have suffered. Our conception of France rests on its
values and its ability to admit its mistakes. Memory is never isolated but
forms part of our conscience. Our wish is to accept it in its entirety and
to draw on it to rally and to overcome.

*

Memory is only living and active. We must learn with it to avoid falling
into the trap of fanaticism which never totally lays down its arms despite
the lessons of the past. We must draw on it to find the strength to build
our world. Your memory will not be a tomb but a light that pierces the
night.

Let us tirelessly combat all forms of Anti-Semitism, racism and xenophobia,
which dishonor each man and woman. In this regard, all physical or verbal
attacks and any denial of the existence of the Holocaust are unacceptable
and violate the spirit of the Republic. My government will combat them with
the greatest severity.

Against hatred, all forms of hatred, against terrorism, which spill blood
in our capital cities and which threaten all people, we assert our
adherence to the Rule of Law. We must act with the utmost firmness. We must
be on top alert. We must co-operate closely with all countries. Let us not
give the terrorists the satisfaction that they can sow fear and doubt in
our minds. We will win this fight through determination and justice.

Against the terrible re-emergence of violence which spares no religion in
the world, let us demonstrate boldness and imagination. Let us not allow
situations to constantly worsen. I do not believe that scorn is inevitable.
Men and women rise up in opposition, through their attachment to an ideal,
through their refusal to allow misfortune to repeat itself.

*

Yes, your memory serves as an appeal.

No one event is ever comparable in human history. No one experience has
attained the same scale as the Holocaust. May the promise grow! May your
memory murmured between those close to one another, to your children, your
friends and your descendants, may your memory shared with each of our
fellow-countrymen and women, echo and serve an appeal to tirelessly condemn
injustice and irreparable wrongs. May it be a spur to prize open the jaws
of resignation and open new prospects. May it remain for us a lesson in
lucidity in face of blindness.

Thank you.