Yes, I am a Jew

by Michael Freund
February 27, 2002

It is an age-old question, one that Jews have sadly been forced 
to confront all too often throughout the centuries: when the 
sharpened blade of the oppressor is raised against you, inquiring 
about your identity, how should you respond? 

To admit to being Jewish in such a situation might mean risking 
torture or death, but to deny one's heritage would be a betrayal 
of one's ancestors and faith. What then is a Jew to do in such 
circumstances?

It might seem like an archaic subject, one that has little or no
connection to current events. After all, the blade has largely 
been returned to its sheath, and in most Western countries, 
Jews are now able to practice their religion freely and without 
constraints. 

Sure, history is full of examples in which Jews were compelled to 
make unpleasant choices, such as the Marranos of medieval Spain, 
who outwardly lived as Christians while secretly practicing Judaism, 
or Jews under Communist dictatorships, who found it safer to hide 
their national origins. During the Crusades, untold numbers of 
Jews heroically accepted martyrdom rather than renounce their 
faith and accept the cross. By contrast, many German Jews in the 
19th century embraced baptism to further their careers and social 
mobility. 

But all that is ancient history, you might argue. Jews are 
no longer confronted with such dilemmas. Or are they?

Last month, on January 23, Wall Street Journal reporter Daniel 
Pearl was kidnapped by a gang of Islamic fundamentalist thugs in 
Pakistan while researching a story for his newspaper. Last week, 
Pearl's tragic death was finally confirmed when a videotape sent 
to Pakistani authorities showed his captors slashing his neck in 
front of the cameras. Before he died, Pearl reportedly looked at 
the screen and said, "I am a Jew, and my father is Jewish", after 
which those holding him carried out their shocking assault. 

We may never know exactly why Daniel Pearl was abducted and murdered. 
Was it because he was an American? A reporter? A Jew? Or perhaps 
because he was working on a story that some people in Pakistan did not 
wish to see published. But what we do know with certainty is that even 
under the glare of his fanatical captors, with his life hanging in the 
balance, Daniel Pearl did not deny who he was. With courage and audacity, 
he looked the camera in the eye and said, "I am a Jew".

After Pearl's death was confirmed, his wife Mariane told reporters, "I
promise you that the terrorists did not defeat my husband no matter what
they did to him, nor did they succeed in seizing his dignity or value 
as a human being". To that, I would add, they did not succeed in 
destroying his Jewish self-esteem either.

Could Daniel have lied about his origins to save himself? Perhaps. 
Could he have feigned interest in accepting Islam to appease his captors?
Possibly. But by clinging to the truth, by refusing to disavow his Jewish
identity, Daniel Pearl has become far more than just a victim. He has
become a hero, a modern-day Jewish hero, one whose valor shines brightly
for the entire world to see.

At a time when assimilation is rife throughout the West, when so many
young Jews are abandoning their people, Daniel Pearl's words serve as a
powerful reminder of Jewish courage and pride. They demonstrate how, even
under the most trying and difficult of circumstances, Jews have always
clung to their identity with tenacity and resolve, determined to prevent
the flame of Israel from ever going out.

I never met Daniel Pearl, but I will always remember him. His last words
on this earth should guide us all in whatever circumstances we may find
ourselves. They were perhaps his private last will and testament, but 
they should also serve as a charge to our entire people, one that we 
must strive ever more firmly to keep: "Yes, I am a Jew".
-------------------
The writer served as Deputy Director of Communications & Policy Planning
in the Prime Minister's Office from 1996 to 1999.