JTF.ORG Forum
Israel => Save Israel => Topic started by: jdl4ever on March 30, 2007, 01:02:04 PM
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My first nomination: Michael Dennis Rohan an Australian citizen who gained worldwide infamy on August 21, 1969, when he attempted to set fire to the Al-Aqsa mosque, located atop the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. By his own admission Rohan, a Christian, claimed that he was "the Lord's emissary" acting upon divine instructions in accordance with the Book of Zechariah. He claimed that he had tried to destroy the al-Aqsa Mosque in order to enable the Jews of Israel to rebuild the Temple on the Temple Mount. [from wikipedia] Funny how this gentile has more guts to do what the scriptures say than the so called Rabbis. I heard that R' Kahane Zs'l also tried to bomb the mosque and was arrested.
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It is amazing how God answers our prayers:
The Godly Zionist Christian mother of the would be General Allenby used to ask him to pray for Jews so that they can reclaim their ancient home land. Allenby as a little boy started praying for the restoration for Israel and God used the same Allenby to conquer Jerusalem.
General Allenby commanded the British troops, and the conquest of Jerusalem was one of his first objectives. But he was in at a real impasse about how to displace the Turks from Jerusalem without destroying it. There was no way to rout the well entrenched Turks in Jerusalem without leveling this historic city, just as the Romans had. Jerusalem was of special concern for Allenby, because as a child his Christian mother would have him pray that God would not forget His ancient people, Israel, and would hasten the day when they would return home. The significance of Jerusalem was not lost on General Allenby!
Out of desperation Allenby ordered a bi-plane to drop leaflets over the city, carrying his signature, commanding the Turks to surrender. When the Turks found out that it was a General named Allenby (to them "Allah"), they apparently took this to mean that God was against them and they evacuated the city! It is also claimed that seeing an airplane in battle for the first time caused panic. Although unaware of it, the Turks were possibly fulfilling another of God's promises of Jerusalem's deliverance made by
Isaiah in 32:5: "As birds flying, so will the Lord of hosts defend Jerusalem; defending also he will deliver it; and passing over he will preserve it."
Whatever the reason, the next morning Allenby awoke to find a delegation from the city waiting to surrender to him-- without a shot fired! Jerusalem was freed on December 9, 1917, one month after the Balfour Declaration was issued! The Jews now had a homeland to return to and a mandate to do it.
God is in control!
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My first nomination: Michael Dennis Rohan an Australian citizen who gained worldwide infamy on August 21, 1969, when he attempted to set fire to the Al-Aqsa mosque, located atop the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. By his own admission Rohan, a Christian, claimed that he was "the Lord's emissary" acting upon divine instructions in accordance with the Book of Zechariah. He claimed that he had tried to destroy the al-Aqsa Mosque in order to enable the Jews of Israel to rebuild the Temple on the Temple Mount. [from wikipedia] Funny how this gentile has more guts to do what the scriptures say than the so called Rabbis. I heard that R' Kahane Zs'l also tried to bomb the mosque and was arrested.
Yes indeed Mr.Rohan is a rightgeous man
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Righteous is the correct spelling.
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YES LETS NOT FORGET COL ORDE WINGATE he would have been very right wing if he did'nt die in Burma
). The Jewish population had 400 killed; the British 200. In another significant development during this time the British officer Charles Orde Wingate (who supported a Zionist revival for religious reasons[4]) organized Special Night Squads composed of British soldiers and Haganah volunteers, which "scored significant successes against the Arab rebels in the lower Galilee and in the Jezreel valley"[5] by conducting raids on Arab villages. The squads were rumored to have used excessive and indiscriminate force, which has been cited by Israeli academic Anita Shapira.[6]
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Charles Martel, defended Europa from the onslaught of the Muslim barbarians aka the Moors. It shows who the true master race is (hint its not the sand negro Arabs).
(http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e7/Steuben_-_Bataille_de_Poitiers.png/300px-Steuben_-_Bataille_de_Poitiers.png)
Battle of tours
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My first nomination: Michael Dennis Rohan an Australian citizen who gained worldwide infamy on August 21, 1969, when he attempted to set fire to the Al-Aqsa mosque, located atop the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. By his own admission Rohan, a Christian, claimed that he was "the Lord's emissary" acting upon divine instructions in accordance with the Book of Zechariah. He claimed that he had tried to destroy the al-Aqsa Mosque in order to enable the Jews of Israel to rebuild the Temple on the Temple Mount. [from wikipedia] Funny how this gentile has more guts to do what the scriptures say than the so called Rabbis. I heard that R' Kahane Zs'l also tried to bomb the mosque and was arrested.
Yup R'Kahane was arrested in 1980 along with Baruch Green (Baruch ben Yosef) for planning on blowing it up.
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THE ONLY GENTILE HERO IS GOD HIMSELF, NO MORE, NO LESS. GOD, GOD, GOD.
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Beethoven is a gentile hero.
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Re: "Beethoven is a gentile hero."
Not to mention a German hero, and a planetary hero!
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The number one gentile villan is King Clovis, without a doubt. He destroyed Europe beyond repair.
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Charles Martel, defended Europa from the onslaught of the Muslim barbarians aka the Moors. It shows who the true master race is (hint its not the sand negro Arabs).
(http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e7/Steuben_-_Bataille_de_Poitiers.png/300px-Steuben_-_Bataille_de_Poitiers.png)
Battle of tours
The Moors were not Negros they were mixture of Arabs-Berbers. You only fueling Afrocentric crap, and btw the Moors have occupied Malta, Corsica,Sicily,Sardina, Southern Italian mainland, Spain,Portugal, and Crete, all most all of Southern Europe were at their hands. If they were Negros they would not concur anything. I hate to admit but the Arabs did infact influnece humanity for the better during those ages, the Arab civilization cannot be downplayed. The Moors have also left their gentic and cultural markers on Southern Europeans such as their darker skin, and short height. Sicilian contians few Arabic words, and Spanish has alot of Arabic words throwin. The Maltese were almost Arabized!
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BabylonianJew, he refers to them as sand nighers because it is a derogatory term for an Arab/Muslim.
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BabylonianJew, he refers to them as sand nighers because it is a derogatory term for an Arab/Muslim.
oh i see,i thought he actually belived they were Negros. The funny thing is most Arabs hate Negros, the only Arabs that have intermarried with Negros were the Yemenites, the Sudanese are Arabized Nubians. In total Arabs and Mizhari Jews share common DNA markers. The total Negroid ancestory in both populations is 10%. Throwbacks don't even happen in Arab world including Northern Africa, but they do happen in Yemen.
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I personally am from Australia and Rohan is an good example of how rightous people in this country of mine are prepared to go to any length to save israel from the evil arab nazi's.... if anyone wants an affiliated reaction to evil the "cronulla riots" is another example of how good people can stand up against evil and took place in Australia...
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BabylonianJew, he refers to them as sand nighers because it is a derogatory term for an Arab/Muslim.
I prefer "Sand Nazis" because "Nazi" is a behavioral choice and not a race. I don't like "Sand Negroes" because it uses "Negro" with derogatory implications, even though most militant "Muslims" are Caucasian. The N word, in any connotation, is highly offensive to African-Americans, so it's a bad idea to use it. On the other hand, saying that militant "Muslims" CHOOSE to BEHAVE like Nazis is not racist.
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The funny thing is most Arabs hate Negros, the only Arabs that have intermarried with Negros were the Yemenites, the Sudanese are Arabized Nubians.
Actually, the Sudanese Islamofascists (Janjaweed) who are murdering and enslaving Sudanese Christians are Caucasians. The Christians are Negroes. So what we have are a bunch of militant "Islamic" Caucasians brutalizing and abusing Black Christians. I don't know if we can equate the Islamofascists to the Klan because their motivation seems religious and not racial, but this should be pointed out to the Left.
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You're all forgetting the greatest of the whole bunch. Look at my avatar.
Here is an extract from Rev Col Stringers book about the Aussie liberators of Jerusalem. Sorry about the christian messages but it can't be helped.
OUR SPIRITUAL HERITAGE
Extracts from Col Stringer's book "800 Horsemen"
Jerusalem's Aussie Deliverers
I sometimes am amazed at Christians in Australia. Many ask, what is the future for this country? What plan does the Lord have for this sunburnt land? If one believes that Smith Wigglesworth was a true prophet of the Lord (and I do), he prophesied that these "ANZAC" islands of the South Pacific, (Australia and New Zealand) would herald in the last great move of the Holy Spirit. But do we have anything else to go on? Personally I believe we do. I believe that God is no man's debtor. Many Australians are ignorant of their country's rich history and the much overlooked fact that it was these tiny nations that succeeded in doing what no other on earth has been able to achieve i.e. the liberation of Jerusalem.
Jerusalem and indeed all Palestine had been under Moslem domination since 637 AD. In 1077 the Seljuk Turks had become masters of Palestine. At this time the condition of the Christians became unbearable. The Turks forbade Christian services, devastated churches, murdered pilgrims. In 1095 Pope Urban 11 delivered an address that started the Crusades. He declared "Jerusalem is Umbilicus Mundi" the navel of the world. "This royal city...is in subjection to those who do not know God, to worship of the heathen. Therefore, she seeks and desires to be liberated and does not cease to implore you to come to her aid."
Early Crusaders. In 1099 Godfrey of Bouillon and his knights conquered Jerusalem, following a five week siege. There followed wholesale slaughter of the city's inhabitants, including all of its Jewish citizens, many burned alive in their synagogues. A terrible indictment on Christendom. In 1187 Saladin defeated the Crusaders, re-entered Jerusalem, stripped the cross from the Dome of the Rock, plundered churches and convents, restored all the buildings that had been mosques (notably the Dome of the Rock and the al-Aqsa mosque), while turning other churches into stables or granaries. Thousands of following Crusaders paid the ultimate price with their bones bleaching the barren rocky hills but Jerusalem was to remain firmly in the hands of the Turks right up until this century when 800 Aussie Light Horsemen rode into history and opened the gateway to Jerusalem.
Beersheba - Well Of The Oath. The key to the battle were the Gaza-Beersheba fortifications. Beersheba, meaning "well of the oath", so named by Abraham in the book of Genesis. The well had provided water not only to Abraham, but to Moses and David. Any army approaching its life-giving wells has to march for days through the waterless Sinai desert. All the Turks had to do was hold off an attack for one day and the merciless desert sun would do the rest. Despite constant assaults by the combined forces of the British and Australian armies, the place could not be taken. Then came the fateful day of October 31 1917. The generals were desperate, 50,000 British infantry with tank support had been driven back into the desert. With the sun about to set and with no water for many miles, disaster stared them squarely in the face. The Australian Light Horse Commander Chauvel's orders were to storm Beersheba, it had to be won before nightfall at all costs. The situation was becoming grave as they were in urgent need of 400,000 gallons of water for men and horses.
Chauvel concocted a crazy plan. Why not let his 800 horsemen charge the Turkish artillery? A cavalry charge across 6000 yards of open terrain straight into the face of the massed Turkish guns. It sounded like a recipe for disaster. No wonder the German Officer commanding the Turkish defences described the Aussie Light Horsemen as "madmen!" For a start the Light Horse were not cavalry, they were mounted infantry. They had no swords or lancers but were equipped with rifles and bayonets designed for infantry warfare. But left with virtually no alternative the desperate General gave the order for the last great cavalry charge in history! The 800 young men mounted their magnificent Walers (horses) and lined up to face the Turkish guns, their young faces bronzed and tanned from the desert sun, their emu plumes swaying in the breeze from their famous slouch hats, rifles swung across their backs and bayonets in hand. History was about to be written. These 800 young men were about to open the doorway to the liberation of Jerusalem!
The Light Horsemen charged magnificently across the dusty plains, so fast that the Turkish artillery could not keep pace with them and the "mad" horsemen were able to slip under their guns. As they leapt the trenches laced with machine gun bullets, a magnificent cheer went up from the British ranks, even some of the Turks stood and applauded, such was the magnificence of the feat. Although hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned they charged on. Beersheba - the gateway to Jerusalem, fell that day, not to the Crusaders, not to the British, German or US Armies - but to the Australian Light Horsemen!
Let me quote from the book "True Australian War Tales" by Alec Hepburn. "...the British swept towards Gaza. They stormed the city on 26 March but were thrown back by determined enemy resistance. A second attempt on 17 April also ended in failure. The Turks, with German and Austrians of the crack Asia Corps, stood firm along a fortified line from Gaza on the coast, to Beersheba, near the Judean Hills. The key to victory was Beersheba. Many nations claim to have mounted the last cavalry charge in history, but most of these actions were minor skirmishes of no real significance towards the outcome of the war in which they fought. The Australian Light Horse attack on Beersheba was the last important cavalry charge in history and the last to win a resounding victory that altered the course of a war." (And the course of a nation - Israel).
"The late afternoon sunlight flashing from their bayonets, Australian troopers of the 4th Light Horse Brigade made a proud sight as they spread in a khaki flood over the stony Palestine plain. The thundering hoof beats of their mounts rolled over the arid land ahead like some macabre overture . ... Wearing their distinctive feather-plumed slouch hats at a variety of jaunty angles the troopers seemed nonchalant in the face of death.... Topping the last rise Beersheba suddenly came into sight, the graceful minaret on its Mosque pointing the way to glory, in what was to be the last important cavalry charge in history. Almost as one the big, brown warhorses surged forward in a mad gallop, their hoofs striking thunder from the hard sun-baked earth."
"Then from somewhere within the barbed-wire-encircled town, heavy artillery began firing. The first shells roared overhead, exploding in fiery geysers amid the charging ranks. Yelling men and bellowing horses went down in tangled heaps, their screams filling the choking smoke clouds that swirled everywhere, But not even shrapnel could halt their fierce onslaught. Leaping their mounts over fallen comrades, the horsemen swept towards the Turkish line. Soon the shells were falling harmlessly behind the advancing ranks. With the first gauntlet behind them the Australian horsemen raced into the next. From the flanks Turkish machine-guns took over the defence. Many more men and horses went down, but still they came on. The tough Turkish infantry had been unnerved by the seemingly invincible horde bearing down on them. Wild with fear, for they knew their foe by reputation, the Turks put up a formidable rifle barrage in a frantic effort to stop the mounted madmen. Troopers pitched from the saddle; others had their mounts shot from under them: and yet the suicidal charge swept on. As the Light Horse galloped nearer the excited Turks forgot to lower their sights and found themselves firing high. With bullets now buzzing harmlessly overhead the leading squadrons thundered in line across the last kilometre then jumped their mighty Walers over the trenches."
The rest is history. "Beersheba - well of the oath, was in Australian hands by the time the last rays of fading daylight had gone from the desert sky. This deed would live on as the proudest achievement in the colourful story of the legendary Light Horse, the force that was probably the most uniquely Australian fighting unit ever raised. The Light Horseman was the best mounted soldier in history, finer even than the Cossack or the American Plains Indian."
In fact the British General Allenby rated the Cavalry charge as one of, if not the most magnificent in history. Eight hundred Aussie Light horsemen had achieved what 50,000 British troops with tanks could not do, what even the Crusaders or Napoleon could not do! They had opened the doorway to Jerusalem against seemingly insurmountable odds. Imagine how I felt when I discovered recently that my forefathers were part of that great battle that changed history forever. They were magnificent Light Horsemen! My Grandfather Fred was a horsebreaker for the Light Horse while his three brothers were part of the famous 3rd Light Horse Regiment that took part that day in the great battle for the liberation of Beersheba.
I am in no way attempting to glorify war, it is terrible. But I believe we need "to give honour where honour is due." Many of the Light Horsemen were visibly moved when they realised they had opened the gateway to the Holy Land, a doorway which had been firmly shut for centuries. One writer put it this way "Without the ANZAC involvement the modern state of Israel would not have come into existence!" On December 11th 1917 the Australian Light Horsemen rode triumphantly into Jerusalem, so far from their homes, their emu feathers proudly fluttering in the breeze, to be greeted with a hysterical welcome by Jews and Christians. A far cry from the scenario when Godfrey of Bouillon and his bloodthirsty Crusaders had entered the city in 1099. Centuries of Moslem rule was over. As the triumphant British General Allenby entered the city through the Jaffa gate, his honour guard was made up of slouch hatted Aussies. Opposite him as he stood on the steps of the Citadel of David he was encircled by another honour guard of proud ANZAC Light Horsemen! Their magnificent effort was being honoured by the world!
History has not been kind to these magnificent mounted Aussies. Not only is this magnificent and historical feat not known by the world but even most Australians are unfamiliar with what their forefathers achieved. Even the capture of Damascus was accredited to Lawrence of Arabia and his Arab army, but the truth is the Aussie Light Horsemen had taken the city one week earlier but had to hide out of sight while Lawrence's ego was appeased, allowing him to parade into the city!
Nations Also Have Callings. How many readers are aware of the fact that as many ANZACS have died in the liberation and restoration of the nation of Israel as have Jewish soldiers! When Jesus returns to the Mount of Olives He will descend onto a spot which is overlooked by hundreds of ANZAC Light Horsemen's graves. These men have given their lives for the liberation of Jerusalem. Our young nation (along with New Zealand) has paid a high price in blood. God in His grace and wisdom has honoured our tiny nation by allowing it to be used in the liberation of the very city to which Jesus will return. What an honour for Australia! First the physical and now the spiritual! In Genesis 12:3 God said (speaking of Israel) "Those who bless you will be blessed and those who curse you will be cursed!" The promise of this Scripture is not restricted to ancient Israel. Joel provides the scenario of the final judgment of the nations. The basis for the judgement is determined by how each nation treated "my inheritance, my people Israel, for they scattered my people among the nations and divided up my land." (Joel 3:1-2)
I believe that the Lord will repay the debt paid in blood by these wonderful young ANZACS and I believe that Smith Wigglesworth's prophecy is about to be implemented. What awesome days to be alive and serving God. What a great day to be an Aussie. Not only is the best yet to come but I believe we haven't seen anything yet! If 800 ANZAC Light Horsemen can rewrite the history books, what can 18 million ANZACS do in the spiritual battle! Fasten your safety belt Aussie Christians as we charge the year 2000 for the Lord!
Copyright 1997 Col Stringer Ministries, All rights reserved.
For copies of this book, contact:
Retail colstringer.server101.com Wholesale www.swcs.com.au/wab.asp
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General Orde Wingate TRAINED THE SPECIAL NIGHT SQUADS
http://astore.amazon.com/homeip-20/detail/0375500618
Fire in the Night: Wingate of Burma, Ethiopia, and Zion
By John Bierman, Colin Smith
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Product Description
Winston Churchill thought he was a military genius; others considered him greatly overrated; a few even thought him mad. Almost sixty years after his death at age forty-four in an airplane crash, Orde Wingate remains perhaps the most controversial of all World War II commanders.
Born into a fundamentalist Christian sect and raised in the Cromwellian tradition of Sword and Bible, Wingate was an odd mixture of religious mystic and idealist, combining an unshakable belief in an Tanach God with an insatiable interest in music, literature, history, philosophy, and the politics of his day.
But his overriding and enduring passion was for Zionism, a cause that--although he had no Jewish blood--he embraced when posted to British-ruled Palestine in 1936. There he raised the Special Night Squads, an irregular force that decimated Arab rebel bands and taught a future generation of Israeli generals how to fight.
In 1941, Wingate led another guerrilla-style force, this time into Italian-occupied Ethiopia, where he was instrumental in restoring Emperor Haile Selassie to his throne. But the campaign that was to bring him world fame was conducted behind enemy lines in Burma, where his Chindits shattered the myth of Japanese invincibility in jungle fighting, giving Allied morale a much-needed boost at a crucial point in World War II.
Throughout his career, Wingate's unconventionality and disdain for the superiors he dismissed as "military apes" marked him as a difficult if not impossible subordinate. He was that, but also, as this vigorous new study reveals, an inspiring leader.
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Product Details
Amazon Sales Rank: #252480 in Books
Brand: Random House
Published on: 1999-12-28
Released on: 1999-12-28
Number of items: 1
Binding: Hardcover
448 pages
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Editorial Reviews
Amazon.com
Few men have made as outstanding contributions to their country's cause as Orde Wingate, yet few have divided opinion so completely. "We don't want any more Wingates in the British Army," says an Army Council minute written after the end of the Second World War, and after his death. In contrast, no less than Winston Churchill himself said, before the House of Commons, "There was a man of genius, who might well have become a man of destiny."
John Bierman and Colin Smith's enlightening and rigorous biography of this brilliant man amply demonstrates how the conservative establishment of the British Army could come to adopt such an ungracious attitude to one of their most dynamic sons, who contributed so much to the war effort with dazzling performances in Abyssinia and Burma, and so much to future strategic thinking with his bold formulation of new methods. He ruffled feathers with his uncompromising style, unconventional thinking, and eccentric nature (perhaps most memorably expressed in his unaffected penchant for receiving visitors in the nude). Together with an acute intelligence and great breadth of learning, Wingate was a man possessed of awe-inspiring will and single-minded application, and he was often seen flying into a rage when things were not done as he thought they should be. Many, regardless of rank, felt the lash of his tongue. His almost fanatical commitment to the cause of Zionism, a highly sensitive and ambivalent political hot potato for the British at the time, seems also to have rankled many who simply could not understand a man so unlike the typical public-school-educated officer. Although not Jewish himself, to this day he is widely honored in Israel. Zvi Brenner, his Jewish bodyguard in Palestine before the war when he was commanding the Special Night Squads, elegantly encapsulated the man when, in describing Wingate's uncanny ability to negotiate all terrain in darkness, he said, "Wingate didn't follow any paths but walked in straight lines." A truly exceptional man; there is, unfortunately, little chance of the British Army's having any more Wingates. --Alisdair Bowles, Amazon.co.uk
From Publishers Weekly
The English General Orde Wingate is the only foreign officer to be buried in Arlington National Cemetery. He is revered in Israel. In his native U.K., there are still those who resent him. Bierman (Righteous Gentile, a biography of Raoul Wallenberg) and Smith (Carlos: Portrait of a Terrorist) sympathetically portray Wingate's eccentric and combative personality and his equally remarkable, although short, career at arms. There is a distinctly Lawrence of Arabia flavor to Wingate's story. He fetches up in impossibly remote corners of the world, rallies a poorly armed but elusive force and attacks the enemy behind their own lines. This pattern was established in the Sudan, recurred in Palestine and Abyssinia and finally in Burma, where Wingate fought the Japanese until his death in a plane crash in March 1943. The Wingate summoned up in this book was hard on his men, harder on himself and hardest of all on his superiors. He emerges as arrogant, bitterly resentful of anyone who dared advance contrary ideas or question his monopolizing of scarce resources. Wingate's detractors are given their say, as are those who revered him, including Chaim Weizmann and Winston Churchill, whose patronage made Wingate's career possible. The authors obviously admire Wingate's accomplishments, especially his role in prewar Palestine, where, as an ardent Zionist, he instilled professionalism in what would become the Israeli army. With balanced judgment and a sharp eye for revealing details, Bierman and Smith bring a neglected warrior back to life. (Jan.)
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
Orde Wingate was one of Britain's greatest generals, according to Bierman and Smith, whose well-researched and quite readable biography covers Wingate's campaigns against the Japanese in Burma in World War II, battle against the Italians in Ethiopia, and role in developing a Zionist army in Palestine. In both his personal and military life, Wingate often employed unconventional tactics, for which he was both despised and praised. Bierman (Napoleon III and His Carnival Empire; Righteous Gentile) and Smith (Carlos: Portrait of a Terrorist) employ numerous sources and documents to analyze Wingate's life, producing a study that is more concise and manageable than Christopher Sykes's lengthy Orde Wingate: A Biography (1959). The extensive use of primary material enhances the portrait, making it an interesting and worthwhile choice for all readers; recommended for public, academic, and special libraries.ADavid M. Alperstein, Queens Borough P.L., Jamaica, NY
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
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Customer Reviews
"ORDE WINGATE: IRREGULAR SOLDIER"-book by Trevor Royle
My mother thought Orde reminded her of Stonewall Jackson of American Civil war fame. There are many similarities between the two, but I think Trevor Royle's book title nails his character right on the head. Both Jackson and Wingate were average military scholars, but brilliant field commanders. They had no equal on the field in terms of battle tactics. Both were deeply religious, both eccentric, though in very different ways. Both were Gideons of the supreme, heavenly order. I am convinced if Stonewall were alive today, he would be an ardent zionist as Orde became when his command led him to palestine in pre-WWII years. Orde's first assignment was in the Sudan where he became fluent in Arabic. His Hebrew which he tried to learn was terrible according to Moshe Dayan. His few days in palestine, however, bore much fruit in that he taught the jews of palestine tactics which would help transform the IDF into the amazing fighting force today and which served them extremely well in the immediate days and years following.
Orde's success in restoring the Ethiopian empire to Haile Selassie was definitely Stonewallian. How he routed the entire Italian fascist force residing in Ethiopia with a small force was little short of miraculous.
I don't think Stonewall was as outspoken as Orde and was a bit surprised at how Orde got by with some of his very strong opinions which he was not afraid to voice. That for me was the biggest contrast between the two.
Most important, I think, about Wingate was what he had accomplished in the jungles of the far east where he died in a tragic aviation accident during WWII.
This book was thoroughly enjoyable, is well written, but I defer to the better judgement of one of my favorite Amazon friends and recommend Royle's book as being most accurate as to Orde's views of the jews and palestine. This book was a good prelude to me, a good introduction into the life and character of this most remarkable of British soldiers, Orde Wingate.
Gifted, Offbeat But Marginal Hero
Like Lawrence of Arabia, Orde Wingate is a perennially fascinating figure of the later British Empire and era of World Wars I and II. Unlike Lawrence, Wingate was not a literary artist who immortalized his own career, so we rely on biographies to understand him. This work is thorough if not definitive, using a wide array of sources to describe his military/political adventures in Palestine, Ethiopia, and finally Burma where his long-range penetration strategy was most publicized and most problematic. Such a brilliant, idiosyncratic, forceful figure will always stimulate controversy, and the authors explore the disagreements well enough, though they cannot satisfy all readers. Why marginal? Wingate's and Lawrence's successes---and failures---occurred in peripheral theaters of both World Wars. Scholars debate whether such special operations significantly influenced the outcome of campaigns in Africa, Southwest and Southeast Asia, or primarily served to expand or protect Britain's empire. But major (and costly) sea, air and especially land campaigns were essential to winning world wars; the character of total war in the 20th century effectively marginalized the efforts and the theaters where romantic individualists fought, though they remain dashing, compelling figures. "Fire in the Night" is exciting and deserves 4-5 stars taken on its own terms, but too much attention to special ops ultimately obscures the nature of Allied triumphs. A. Mockler, "Haile Selassie's War" narrates the whole 1935-41 Ethiopian conflict. In "Defeat Into Victory" William Slim recounts his inspiring reconquest of Burma, with specific criticisms but general praise for his difficult subordinate. (Bierman and Smith seem overly hard on Slim in this respect.) J. Nunneley, "Tales from the King's African Rifles" captures well the brutal, unglamorous experience of most Burma veterans.
incomplete portrait of a complex figure
Like many sources, this book praises wingate without enough
careful examination of his flaws. The book focuses mostly
on three chapters in Wingate's life. It starts with his
service in palestine in 1936.
Driven by religious fanaticism and his contempt for what
he saw as uncivilized peoples (arabs or any non-europeans
really), he attached himself to Zionism and zionist politicians.
In the process he exceeded or ignored his orders, then after
politically compromised himself in open alliance with zionist
groups to a point where he could not possibly serve there.
His great "vision" for the region was for a "sub-empire"
with Zionists serving as a sort of spartan military elite
to subdue and westernize those considered lesser humans. All
as part of some sort of twisted fanatical vision of christianity.
After having been booted out of Palestine, he eventually ended
up in Ethiopia where he again ignored his orders. His goal
this time was to force a royal government on Ethiopia regardless
of what anyone else thought and in spite of serious reservations
on the part of politicians and his superiors. His campaign
was a wonderful "boys adventure" sort of a affair, but in the
end it was army won the campaign. Wingate's great accomplishment
was saddling Ethiopia with an unstable and territorially
aggressive monarchy that eventually collapsed in a bloodbath
in the 1970s.
After, he went into open revolt against the entire leadership
of the army in the area. He openly insulted them and held them
in utter contempt. In his mind, though he had never held
a position of high responsiblity in the army, he saw himself
as being some sort of grand illustrious figure. And when
his campaign of alination, insults and personal attacks failed
to get him recognition, he attempted suicide. Contrary to the
book, his megolmania and self-destructive behavior would indicate
someone with serious problems rather than a great leader.
He was rescued from career oblivion by a friend in India. He
was sent into Burma in 1942 to see what could be done in the
way of irregular warfare. For all his bluster, he did nothing.
And beyond that, while other men were suffering and dying
on the march back to India, Wingate arranged to be flown out.
Back in India, he was given a brigade to test out his theories
with. He whined about what he was given in terms of men. He
only wanted british soldiers. He threw the men into jungle
camps during the monsoon with the idea that by inflicting the
maximum amount of suffering and disease, that british men
who had his opinion been weakened by access to health care
and doctors in britain would be made strong again. When the
casualty rate reached over 50%, he moved the men into regular
housing and they recovered. The book presents the self-serving
fiction that the casulaty rate declined due to weeding out
"bad men" when in reality it only improved because the monsoon
ended and the worst of the camps was abandoned.
Wingate's first mission into Burma served no real purpose. It
was originally to be part of a broader plan, but when the
broader plan was cancelled, wingate demanded that the operation
go ahead anyway as a training exercise. He led the men into
Burma, put a railway out of operation for a few weeks and
then led his men deep into Burma where they accomplished nothing.
Eventually, Wingate executed one of his brilliant strategies
to solve the situation. He broke up his command and effectively
gave the order every man for himself. The force or more
properly what survived of the force returned in small parties
to India.
Once back, Wingate ignored his men in favor of launching a
press and publicity campaign on his achivements. He wrote
a self-serving account of operations and when his commanders
raised objects to it, he arranged for a copy to be given
directly to Churchill and the cabinet. Wingate decided to
bypass the entire army and come under the patronage of
politicians. The politicans heard about the brilliant victory,
but they did not hear about the officer running naked in the
jungle or of the man who believed bringing back flogging was
necessary for real dicipline.
When he returned to India in the fall of 1943, he fell ill
because he had recklessly drank contaminated water in north
africa on the way back. He had been given a blank cheque
for any resources he wanted for operations in Burma.
However, due to a combination of him being out of the country
and ill, his operational role in developing the second chindit
force wasn't very large. Eventually, an plan was thrown
together for operations in 1944. Rather than being an evolution
of his supposed theories, it mostly involved a new idea of
fighting a special operations war with a division-sized formation
operating from large bases in enemy controlled territory.
Wingate died early on during the operation so its impossible to
know what would have been the result if he had lived. However,
the only other time his 1944 strategy was used was by the
French in Vietnam where it led to total disaster.
Wingate has a number of followers. Obviously, Israelis are
greatful for the help he provided in forming what eventually
became their army. There are also those who, like wingate,
who see the british army as a failed institution and somehow
see innovation in the form of a man who cut his own throat,
ran around naked in camp, wanted to bring back flogging and
credited broader access to good health care in civilian life
as being responsible for weakening the british soldier.
A good work on Wingate has to deal with the positive aspects
and the negative ones. Too many draw a one-sided portrait
(including this one) while sweeping the not so nice parts of
the story under the rug.
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The Moors were not Negros they were mixture of Arabs-Berbers. You only fueling Afrocentric crap, and btw the Moors have occupied Malta, Corsica,Sicily,Sardina, Southern Italian mainland, Spain,Portugal, and Crete, all most all of Southern Europe were at their hands. If they were Negros they would not concur anything. I hate to admit but the Arabs did infact influnece humanity for the better during those ages, the Arab civilization cannot be downplayed. The Moors have also left their gentic and cultural markers on Southern Europeans such as their darker skin, and short height. Sicilian contians few Arabic words, and Spanish has alot of Arabic words throwin. The Maltese were almost Arabized!
Besides the islamic pigs raping the women and leaving their genetic and cultural markers on Southern Europeans, how exactly did they influence humanity? Remember these are muslims we are talking about. They do not create or produce anything, they only know how to destroy. I know that muslims have also claimed the achievements of the civilisations they conquered for their own.
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The Moors were not Negros they were mixture of Arabs-Berbers. You only fueling Afrocentric crap, and btw the Moors have occupied Malta, Corsica,Sicily,Sardina, Southern Italian mainland, Spain,Portugal, and Crete, all most all of Southern Europe were at their hands. If they were Negros they would not concur anything. I hate to admit but the Arabs did infact influnece humanity for the better during those ages, the Arab civilization cannot be downplayed. The Moors have also left their gentic and cultural markers on Southern Europeans such as their darker skin, and short height. Sicilian contians few Arabic words, and Spanish has alot of Arabic words throwin. The Maltese were almost Arabized!
Besides the islamic pigs raping the women and leaving their genetic and cultural markers on Southern Europeans, how exactly did they influence humanity? Remember these are muslims we are talking about. They do not create or produce anything, they only know how to destroy. I know that muslims have also claimed the achievements of the civilisations they conquered for their own.
Moslems accomplish something :laugh: :laugh:
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I can think of one for sure.
The realist from http://inverted-world.com
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I nominate Ludwig van Beethoven.
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The Light Horsemen charged magnificently across the dusty plains, so fast that the Turkish artillery could not keep pace with them and the "mad" horsemen were able to slip under their guns.
The Russian field marshal Alexander Suvorov wrote that artillerymen often could not depress their guns rapidly enough, or accurately enough, to stop a charge. The Aussies are lucky, though, that the Turks couldn't load with canister for the last few hundred meters. It's possible that the breechloading guns of the First World War didn't use actual canister, as was commonly used by muzzleloaders.
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I nominate Newman! The fastest and most sleep-deprived poster in the history of the forum!
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I Nominate Jan Karski:
From The Warsaw Ghetto pp. 42-50.
"Jan Karski's Account"
[Quoted after Righteous among Nations, ed. by Zofia Lewin and Wladyslaw Bartoszewski, Earlscourt 42 Publications Ltd., London 1969.]
Before I was due to leave Poland a meeting was arranged for me Ñ- on the order of the Delegate of the Polish Government in London and of the Commander of the Underground Army [AK] Ñ- with two men who, formerly eminent in the Jewish community, were now directing the work of the Jewish Underground. One was the head of the Zionist organization, the other was the leader of the Jewish Socialist Alliance, the Bund. The latter also had the dangerous and arduous task of directing the work of a special department of the Delegate [Office] of the Polish Government which organized relief for the Jewish population and attempted to smuggle the most valuable inhabitants out of the ghetto.
We met at twilight in a huge, empty and half-ruined house in the suburbs. The fact that they were both present at the same time was significant. It meant that the material I was to be given to transmit to the Polish and Allied governments contained nothing of a political nature and was not limited to either group. It constituted the expression and contained the information, sentiments, requests, and instructions of the entire Jewish population of Poland as a unit, a population that was at the moment dying as a unit.
What I learned at the meetings we held in that house and later when I was taken to see the facts for myself, was horrible beyond description. I know history. I have learned a great deal about the evolution of nations, political systems, social doctrines, methods of conquest, persecution and extermination and I know, too, that never in the history of mankind, never anywhere in the realm of human relations did anything occur to compare with what was inflicted on the Jewish population of Poland.
The two men were unforgettable, less like men than incarnations of mass suffering and nerves strained in hopeless effort. Both lived outside the ghetto but were able, by secret means, to enter and leave it as they pleased and carry on their work there. Inside the ghetto they looked, talked and acted like other inhabitants. To carry on their tasks outside they succeeded in changing their appearance so completely as to go absolutely undetected by the keenest scrutiny. The Bund leader in particular, with his distinguished grey hair and whiskers, ruddy complexion, erect carriage, and general air of good health and refinement, passed easily as a Polish "nobleman".
Before the war he had been a well-known lawyer with an excellent reputation as an expert in criminal law. Now he appeared before the German authorities as the owner of a large store, prosperous, dignified and unruffled. How great an effort of will this pose must have necessitated I realized later when he accompanied me to the ghetto. The air of well-being and savoir-faire seemed to vanish instantly. The well-groomed Polish merchant underwent a sudden transformation and became a Jew, one of the thousands of wretched, exhausted, starving Jews that the pitiless Nazis tormented and hunted with inhuman vindictiveness.
The first thing that became clear to me as I sat there talking to them in the silence of the darkening Warsaw suburbs was the complete hopelessness of their predicament. For them, for the suffering Polish Jews, this was the end of the world. There was no possible escape for them or their fellows. This, too, was only part of the tragedy, only partially the cause of their despair and agony. They were not afraid of death itself, and, indeed, accepted it as something almost inevitable. Added to this realization was the bitter knowledge that in this war, for them, there could be no hope of any victory whatsoever, none of the satisfaction which sometimes softens the prospect of death. The Zionist leader made it clear to me at once.
"You other Poles are fortunate," he began. "You are suffering too. Many of you will die, but at least your nation goes on living. After the war Poland will be resurrected. Your cities will be rebuilt and your wounds will slowly heal. From this ocean of tears, pain, rage and humiliation your country will emerge again, but the Polish Jews will no longer exist. We will be dead. Hitler will lose his war against the human, the just, and the good, but he will win his war against the Polish Jews. No -- it will not be a victory; the Jewish people will be murdered....
"What's the good of talking? What reason do I have to go on living? I ought to go to the Germans and tell them who I am. If all the Jews are killed they won't need any leaders... But it's no use telling you all this. No one in the outside world can possibly understand. You don't understand. Even I don't understand, for my people are dying and I am alive."
The older man tried to calm him, laying one hand on his shoulder, while the other clenched and unclenched nervously at his side.
"We have work to do," he said, "and very little time to do it. We have to talk to the point."
There was a pause while the Zionist leader struggled to regain his self-control. At length he smiled wistfully and apologized.
I told him that his apology was needless and that there was no need to worry about offending me by being over-emotional. I understood how things were. "I am here to help, if I can," I added. "I will be in London soon and in a position to obtain audiences with Allied authorities."
"Will you really?" The Zionist leader interjected hopefully. "Do you think you will get to see Roosevelt and Churchill?"
"Perhaps. Or if not, then certainly someone close to them. I am going on an official mission on behalf on the Polish Underground, I will be accredited by the Polish Government in London. My status will be official and you must give me your official message to the outside world. You are the leaders of the Jewish Underground. What do you want me to say?"
They hesitated for a moment as if to consider all that they had to say and to select their phrases that were closest to their true feelings, that expressed their plight and their desires most significantly. The Bund leader spoke first, resting his hands on the table as though it helped him to concentrate on what he was about to say.
"We want you to tell the Polish and Allied Governments and the great leaders of the Allies that we are helpless in the face of the German criminals. We cannot defend ourselves and no one in Poland can defend us. The Polish underground authorities can save some of us, but they cannot save masses. The Germans are not trying so enslave us as they have other peoples; we are being systematically murdered."
The Zionist broke in:
"That is what people do not understand. That is what is so difficult to make clear."
I nodded my assent. The Bund leader continued: I
"Our entire people will be destroyed. A few may be saved, perhaps, but three million Polish Jews are doomed. This cannot be prevented by any force in Poland, neither the Polish nor the Jewish Underground. Place this responsibility on the shoulders of the Allies. Let not a single leader of the United Nations be able to say that they did not know that we were being murdered in Poland and could not be helped except from the outside."
This was the solemn message I carried to the world. They impressed it upon me so that it could not be forgotten. They added to it, for they saw their position with the clarity of despair. At that time more than 1,800,000 Jews had been murdered. These two men refused to delude themselves and foresaw how the United Nations might react to this information. The truth might not be believed. It might be said that this figure was exaggerated, not authentic. I was to argue, convince, do anything I could, use every available proof and testimonial, shout the truth till it could not be denied.
They had prepared me an exact statistical account of the Jewish mortality in Poland. I needed some particulars.
"Could you give me," I asked, "the approximate figures of the murder of the ghetto population?"
"The exact figure can be very nearly computed from the German deportation orders," the Zionist leader informed me.
"You mean that every one of those who were presumably deported was actually killed?"
"Every single one," the Bund leader asserted. "Of course, the Germans kept up a pretense that this was not so. Even now, when there can be no doubt, letters are received from people whom we know to be dead, cheerful letters in which they inform their families and friends that they are healthy, working and living on meat and white bread. But we know the truth, and we can put you in a position to confirm it with your own eyes."
"When did these deportations begin?"
"The first deportation order came in July. The German authorities demanded five thousand persons a day. They were supposed to be sent out of Warsaw to work. They were sent to the death camps. It was then raised to six, seven and finally to ten thousand a day. When Czerniakow, an engineer who was Chairman of the Jewish Council, received the Germans' demand for ten thousand people daily to report for 'work', he committed suicide. He knew what it meant."
"How many were 'deported' altogether?"
"Over three hundred thousand. More than one hundred thousand are left and the deportations are still going on."
I turned pale. It was now the beginning of October 1942. In two and a half months, in one district in Poland, the Nazis had committed three hundred thousand murders. It was, indeed, the report of an unprecedented species of criminality that I had to bring to the outside world. But my report was not merely to be based on their uncorroborated word-of-mouth stories.
They offered to take me to the Warsaw ghetto so that I could literally see the spectacle of a people expiring, breathing its last before my eyes. They would take me into one of the many death camps where Jews were tortured and murdered by the thousands. As an eye-witness I would be much more convincing than a mere mouthpiece. At the same time they warned me that if I accepted their offer I would have to risk my life to carry it out. They told me, too, that as long as I lived I would be haunted by the memory of the ghastly scenes I would witness.
I told them that I had to see these things for myself. I hoped to reach the other side of the barricade and to have an opportunity to convince what was left of the civilized world of the facts. Unless I had first-hand acquaintance with what I had to report, I did not feel equal to the task.
It was settled, then, that as soon as possible, arrangements should be made for these visits to take place. I was to return to this house again to continue our discussion of how l could most effectively present their case to the rest of the world. I left them still standing in the nebulous, wavering light, two dejected shadows that wished me good night with a feeble warmth that denoted a trust in my person rather than any confidence in our enterprise.
When I returned again the scene and their persons had altered as little as the circumstances they described. No more fitting place for our conversation could have been imagined -- the desolate ruin of a house, the dismal silence interrupted only by our voices and the moaning wind that seemed constantly on the verge of extinguishing the candle that cast wan, irregular patches of light into the blackness.
For a while we discussed my forthcoming trip to the ghetto, disposing mechanically of details like my attire and behaviour as though we were pushing them out of the way of more important topics. Finally I asked them what they wanted me to say to the British and American authorities if they asked me how they could help. The answer I got was bitter and realistic. They talked like men who knew that most of the proposals they had to make could not be put into execution, who did not even hope they would be executed, but who had to offer them as the only possible means of putting an end to the suffering of their people.
The Zionist leader spoke first:
"Germany can be impressed only by power and violence. The cities of Germany ought to be bombed mercilessly and with every bombing leaflets should be dropped informing the Germans fully of the fate of the Polish Jews, and we ought to threaten the entire German nation with a similar fate both during and after the war. We do not believe in and do not aim at a slaughter of the German people, but such a threat is the only possible way to check the German atrocities. Such a warning backed up by force might frighten the German people into putting enough pressure on their leaders to make them change their practices. Nothing else will."
"'We know," the Bund leader added, "that possibly this plan cannot be carried out, that it cannot fit into Allied military strategy, but we can't help that. The Jews and those who wish to help them cannot afford to approach this war from a purely military standpoint. Tell the Allied Governments if they want to help us to issue official declarations to the German Government and people telling them that the consequences of continued persecution will be mass reprisals, the systematic destruction of the entire German nation." "I understand," I said, "I will do my best to tell them and make them understand what you have told me."
We demand still more, said the Zionist leader. "Hitler has said that all Germans wherever they live or whatever they think, are one compact racial group. He is conducting a total war against civilization and his avowed purpose is to destroy the Jews completely. It is an unprecedented situation in history and can be dealt with only by unprecedented methods. Let the Allied Governments, wherever their hand can reach, in America, England and Africa, begin public executions of Germans, any they can get hold of. That is what we demand."
"But that is utterly fantastic." I said. "A demand like that will only confuse and horrify all those who are sympathetic with you."
"Of course," the Zionist answered. "Do you think I don't know it? We ask it because it is the only rebuttal to what is being done to us. We do not dream of its being fulfilled, but nevertheless we demand it. We demand it so people will know how we feel about what is being done tous, how helpless we are, how desperate our plight is, how little we stand to gain from an Allied victory as things are now."
They paused for a moment as if to let the knowledge of their true condition sink into me. I felt tired and feverish. More and more these two frantic figures pacing the floor in the shadowy room, their steps echoing in the hollow silence, seemed like apparitions, their glances filled with a burden of despair, pain and hopelessness they could never completely express. Their voices were pitched very low, they hissed, they whispered, and yet I continually had the illusion that they were roaring. It seemed to me that I was listening to an earthquake, that was hearing cracking, tearing sounds of the earth opening to swallow a portion of humanity. One could hear the cries and shouts of the frantic people falling into the chasm.
"It is impossible," they hissed, raising their fists as if threatening all those who were on the other side of the barricade. "The democracies cannot calmly put up with the assertion that the Jewish people in Europe cannot be saved. If American and British citizens can be saved, why can't evacuation of even the Jewish children be arranged on a large scale, of Jewish women, of the sick, the old? Offer the Germans an exchange. Offer them money. Why can't the lives of a few thousand Polish Jews be bought by the Allies?"
"How? How can this be done?" I asked, bewildered by these turbulent, desperate suggestions. "It is contrary to all war strategy. Can we give our enemies money, can we give them back their soldiers to use against us in the front line?"
"That's just it. That's what we're up against; Everybody tells us, 'This is contrary to the strategy of this war,' but strategy can be changed, strategy can be adjusted. Let's adjust it to include the rescue of a fraction of the unhappy Jewish people. Why does the world let us all die? Haven't we contributed our share to culture, to civilization? Haven't we worked and fought and bled? Why do they fight for all the others?. Why was it never said that strategy and tactics would be changed to correspond to the methods applied by the Germans to the Jewish population?'"
I stood up suddenly.
"What plan of action do you want me to suggest to the Jewish leaders in England and America? They have something to say about the course of this war. They can act for you."
The Bund leader came up to me in silence. He gripped my arm with such violence that it ached. I looked into his wild, staring eyes with awe, moved by the deep, unbearable pain in them.
"Tell the Jewish leaders that this is no case for politics or tactics. Tell them that the earth must be shaken to its foundation, the world must be aroused. Perhaps then it will wake up, understand, perceive. Tell them that they must find the strength and courage to make sacrifices no other statesmen have ever had to make, sacrifices as painful as the fate of my dying people, and as unique. This is what they do not understand. German aims and methods are without precedent in history. The democracies must react in a way that is also without precedent, choose unheard-of methods as an answer. If not, their victory will be only partial, only a military victory. Their methods will not preserve what the enemy includes in his programme of destruction. Their methods will not preserve us."
He paused, and for the first time released my arm from his grip. He paced about for a moment nervously and then came to a halt in front of me. He spoke slowly and with great deliberation as though each word were costing him an effort.
You ask me what plan of action I suggest to the Jewish leaders. Tell them to go to all the important English and American offices and agencies. Tell them not to leave until they obtain guarantees that a way has been decided upon to save the Jews. Let them accept no food or drink, let them die a slow death while the world is looking on. Let them die. This may shake the conscience of the world."
I sank into my arm-chair. My whole body felt chilled and sore. I was shivering and I felt the pulse in my temples pounding. I rose to go.
"One moment more," the Zionist leader said. "This we did not intend to tell you, but I want you to know it. We do not demand such sacrifices from our leaders abroad out of cruelty. We expect to make them here ourselves. The ghetto is going to go up in flames. We are not going to die in slow torment, but fighting. We will declare war on Germany -- the most hopeless declaration of war that has ever been made."
The Bund leader appeared startled at first and then bent towards me to add his confirmation. He whispered delicately as if afraid that someone was lurking behind the wall or that the wind might take up his words and scatter them so that the plan would come prematurely to the ears of the Gestapo.
"We are organizing a defense of the ghetto," the words trickled slowly from his pursed lips, "not because we think it can be defended, but to let the world see the hopelessness of our battle -- as a demonstration and a reproach. We are even now negotiating with your commander for the arms we need. If we get them, then one of these days, the deportation squad is going to get a bloody surprise."
"We shall see," the Zionist concluded, "whether we Jews can still obtain the right to die fighting and not -- as Hitler has ordered -- to die suffering."
Story of an expedition to the ghetto taken from Claude Lanzmann's film Shoah (retranslated from the Polish script).
Suddenly he [the Bund leader] had an idea: "Pan Witold, I know the West. You will be negotiating with the British, you'll pass on to them your oral report. I'm sure it's going to sound more convincing if you can tell them, 'I saw it.' We can arrange a visit to the ghetto for you. Is that all right? If so, I shall go with you and take care of your safety."...
There was a tunnel dug under that building the back wall of which formed part of the ghetto wall and with its facade looking onto the Aryan side; we negotiated it with no trouble. And suddenly we found ourselves in a completely different world. The Bund leader who until recently had looked like a Polish nobleman suddenly stooped like a ghetto Jew, as if he had been there for ever. This was his nature, his world. We were passing the streets, him on my left, and we did not talk much. There were naked, corpses lying in the streets. I asked: "Why are they lying there?" He answered: "That's a problem. When a Jew dies and the family want to bury him, they have to pay. They have no money and so they throw their dead out into the street. Every bit of rag has its value and that's why they strip them of their clothes. When the naked bodies are in the street, they become the business of the Jewish Council."
Women breast-feeding infants in full view of everyone. Only they have no breasts... their chests are completely flat there. Infants with eyes of madmen are looking at us. This was not this world, this was not mankind.
The streets are crowded, filled, as if everybody lived outdoors. They are displaying their poor riches, everyone is trying to sell whatever he or she has: three onions, two onions,' a couple of tacks. Everybody is selling something, everybody is begging. Hunger. Terrible children. Children running by themselves, children sitting by their mothers. This was not mankind, it was a kind of hell.
Through this part of the central ghetto German officers used to pass. Off duty German officers made a shortcut walking across the ghetto. So uniformed Germans were walking. Dead silence fell. Everybody was watching them passing, frozen with fear, with no movement, not a word. The Germans were contemptuous, you could sense that they did not regard those dirty subhumans as human beings. Suddenly panic broke out. Jews were fleeing from the streets we were walking along. We were rushing towards one of the houses, my companion murmured, "The door -- open the door' -- someone opened it and we entered. We were hurrying to the windows facing the street. Then we were going back to the door and the woman standing by it. He said, "Don't be afraid, we're Jews." He pushed me towards the window, "Look." Two boys with nice faces and wearing Hitlerjugend uniforms were passing. They were talking. With each step they made, the Jews scattered, vanished. And they continued talking. Suddenly one of them reached into his pocket and without a moment's hesitation fired a shot. The sound of broken glass, the howling of a man. The other one congratulated him and they went away.
I was standing stock-still. And then the Jewish woman who must have realized that I was not Jewish embraced me, "Go away, it's not for you. go away."
We left the house and we left the ghetto. He told me, "You didn't see all. Do you want to come back? I shall come with you, I want you to see everything."
We returned the following day through the same building. This time the shock was not so great and I noticed other things. Stench, dirt. Suffocating stench. Dirty streets. The atmosphere of excitement, tension, frenzy. This was Muranowski Square. In one corner children were playing with rags. They were throwing rags at each other. He said. "Look, children are playing. Life goes on." I answered, "They are not playing, they are only pretending." Nearby there were several sickly trees. We were walking farther talking to no one. We walked like that for about an hour. Occasionally he stopped me, "Look at this Jew," a man standing motionless. I asked, "Is he still alive?" -- "Oh yes, he's alive all right," he replied. "Pan Witold, please remember, he is in the process of dying. He is just dying. Look at him, please, and tell them over there. You saw, him, please remember." We went on. Horror! From time to time he whispered, "You must remember this, and this, and that. And this woman." Often I asked him, "What is happening to these people?" He answered, "They're dying. Don't forget. Please remember."
This went on for about half an hour, and then we turned back. I could not stand it any longer. "Please take me out." I did not see him any more. I was ill. Even now I do not want any more. I can understand what you are doing and therefore I am here. But I had not gone back to my memories. I couldn't any longer.
I conveyed my report and I told them what I had seen. It had not been the world that I had seen. It had not been mankind. I wasn't there, I didn't belong there. I had never before seen anything like that. And no one had described such reality. Nor shown it in a drama or a film.
This was not the world. I was told they were human beings but they did not recall human beings any longer. . |
We left, he embraced me. "Good luck." I answered, "Good luck." I never saw him again.
I reported my experiences to outstanding members of the British and American governments, and to the Jewish leaders of both continents. I told what I had seen in the ghetto to some of the world's greatest writers -- to H.G. Wells, Arthur Koestler, members of the P.E.N. Club -- as they could describe it with greater force and talent than I. I told it to others, too less well-known and to one in particular, who will never be heard from again.
In London, five weeks later, a meeting was arranged for me. To me, it was one of innumerable such meetings and not the most important. Since my arrival in London I had been swamped with literally hundreds of conferences, conversations, contacts, and reports. I had been involved in them from 9 a.m. to midnight every day, with hardly a respite or an intermission except for absolute necessities. This time I expected one of the leaders of the Jewish Bund. His name was Szmul Zygelbojm. He had been in Poland until 1940, had worked in the Jewish Underground, had been a member of the Council of the Warsaw ghetto and had, I believe, even been held for a time as a hostage by the Nazis.
We were to meet in the Stratton House, near Piccadilly, a noisy beehive of a building in the street of the same name, the seat of the Polish Ministry of the Interior. When I entered one of the small rooms Zygelbojm was already there, sitting in an office chair and waiting quietly. I was tired and studied him casually while we introduced ourselves. Since the war I had had to deal, without exaggeration, with thousands of people and always with an insufficient amount of time. Consequently, I had had to learn to size up character at a glance. It had become a fixed habit with me to define quickly the mentality and habits of anyone I met so as to do my work most effectively in the shortest possible time.
To me, Zygelbojm looked like a type I had often encountered among Jewish leaders. He had the hard, suspicious glance of the proletarian, the self-made man who could not be cajoled, and was constantly on the alert for falsehood. His early life had probably been severe -- he may have started out by running errands for a tailor or perhaps had been a street cleaner, I shall have to be careful and exact, I thought.
"What do you want to hear about?" I asked.
"About Jews, my dear man. I am a Jew. Tell me what you know about the Jews in Poland."
"Are you entitled to see the material I received at the joint conferences with the leaders of the Jewish Bund and the Zionists?"
"Yes, I am. I represent the Jewish Bund in the Polish National Council and I was one of the leaders of the Bund in Poland." | I began my story in a cut-and-dried fashion. I had finally, after much experience, mastered a kind of formula for these situations. I had found that, on the whole, the most effective way of getting my material across was not to soften or interpret it, but to convey it as directly as possible, reproducing not merely ideas and instructions but the language, gestures and nuances of those from whom the material came. That was my job -- faithful, concrete reproduction.
Zygelbojm listened intently, thirstily, with an avid desire for information it was impossible to satisfy. He sat rigidly with his legs apart and braced, his body inclined forward, a hand on each knee. His dark, wide-open eyes were staring fixedly at a point on the ceiling far behind me. They never blinked. The expression on his face hardly varied, not a muscle of it moving except for the occasional contortion of his cheek in a nervous tic.
Conditions are horrible. The people in the ghetto live in constant agony, a lingering, tormenting death," I was reciting almost by rote. "The instructions their leaders gave me cannot be carried out for political and tactical reasons. I spoke to the British authorities. The answer was the one your leaders in Poland told me to expect -- 'No, it is impossible, it can't be done'."
Zygelbojm rose abruptly and advanced a step or two toward me. His eyes snapped with anger and contempt. He dismissed what I had just told him with a sharp wave of his hand that made me feel as though I had been slapped in rebuke.
"Listen," he almost shouted. "I didn't come here to talk to you about what is happening here. Don't tell me what is said and done here. I know that myself. I came to you to hear about what is happening there, what they want there, what they say there!"
I answered with brutal simplicity and directness.
"Very well, then. This is what they want from their leaders in the free countries of the world, this is what they told me to say: 'Let them go to all the important English and American offices and agencies. Tell them not to leave until they obtain guarantees that a way has been decided upon to save the Jews. Let them accept no food or drink, let them die a slow death while the world is looking on. Let them die. This may shake the conscience of the world'."
Zygelbojm started as though he had been bitten and began to pace around the room agitatedly, almost breaking into a run. Worried lines formed between his contracted eyebrows and he held one hand to his head as though it ached.
"It is impossible," he finally said, "utterly impossible. You know what would happen. They would simply bring in two policemen and have me dragged away to an institution. Do you think they will let me die a slow, lingering death? Never... they would never let me."
We talked at great length. I gave him all the details of my instructions. I told him all I knew about the Jews in Poland and all I had seen. He asked innumerable questions, wanted more and more concrete and even trivial details. Possibly he felt that if the picture I gave him was clear and minute enough, he could suffer together with them, be united with them...
I did my best to satisfy his thirst for facts and details, emptying my memory of everything that it had stored up for just such an occasion. At the end of the interview I was utterly fatigued, my powers of response, completely sapped. He looked even more tired, his eyes nearly starting out of their sockets and the tic occurring with increasing frequency. We shook hands, Zygelbojm gazing directly into my eyes, intent and questioning.
"Mr. Karski, I'll do everything I can to help them. Everything! I'll do everything they demand -- if only I am given a chance. You believe me, don't you?"
My answer was rather cold and impatient. I felt tired, frustrated, strained. So many interviews, so many meetings...
"Of course I believe you. I feel certain you will do all you can and all they demand. My God, every single one of us tries to do his best."
At the bottom, I think, I felt that Zygelboim was boasting or, at least, thoughtlessly promising more than he could perform. I felt nettled, harassed. He asked so many needless questions which had no place in the interview. "Do I believe?" What difference did it make if I did or did not? I no longer knew what I believed and what I did not believe. He had no right to perplex me further. I had enough of my own troubles...
Some weeks later I had all but forgotten Zygelbojm in the endless grind of interviews and meetings. I was sitting in my room in Dolphin Square during a brief respite, resting, when the telephone rang. I deliberately let it ring three or four times and then picked up the receiver reluctantly. It was an employee of the Stratton House.
"Mr. Karski, I was told to inform you that Szmul Zygelbojm, a member of the Polish National Council and representative of the Bund in London, committed suicide yesterday. He left some notes, saying that he did all he could to help the Jews in Poland but failed, that all his brothers will perish and that he is joining them. He turned on the gas in his apartment."
I hung up.
At first I felt nothing at all, then a wave of mingled shock, grief and guilt. I felt as though I had personally handed Zygelbojm his death warrant, even though I had been only the instrument. Painfully, it occurred to me that he might have found my answer to his last question cold and unsympathetic. I had become, I thought to myself, so cynical, so quick and harsh in my judgment that I could no longer estimate the degree of self-sacrifice possible to a man like Zygelbojm. For days afterwards I felt all my confidence in myself and in my work vanishing and I deliberately forced myself to work twice as hard in order to avoid these intolerable reflections.
Since then I have often thought about Szmul Zygelbojm, one of the most tragic victims of this war and its horrors. For Zygelbojm's death did not have a shadow of conclusion. It was self-imposed and utterly hopeless. I wonder now how many people can understand what it means to die as he did for a cause that would be victorious, yet with the certain knowledge that victory would not stave off the sacrifice of his people, the annihilation of all that was most meaningful to him. Of all the deaths that have taken place in the war, surely Zygelbojm's is one of the most frightening, the sharpest revelation of the extent to which the world has become cold and unfriendly, nations and individuals separated by immense gulfs of indifference, selfishness and convenience. All too plainly, it marks the fact that the domination of mutual suspicion, estrangement, and lack of sympathy has progressed so far that even those who wish and strive for a remedy by every possible means are powerless and able to accomplish pitifully little.
http://writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/Holocaust/karski.html
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Szmul [Arthur] Zygelbojm (1895Ñ1943) -- a worker, leader of the Bund and a member of its central authorities, from 1927 to 1935 councillor of the City of Warsaw (1938Ñof the City of Lodz) on behalf of the Bund, voluntary participant in the defense of the capital in September 1939. Following the entry of the Germans into Warsaw, he tried to carry on overt social work among the Jews but, persuaded by the Bund, he left illegally for London at the end of 1939 where he represented the Bund in the Polish National Council until his death. He explained the motives for his suicide in a letter addressed to President Raczkiewicz and General Sikorski:
"I take the liberty of sending you my last words and through your intermediary to the Polish Government and to the Polish people, to the governments and peoples of all Allied States and to the conscience of the world. From the latest reports received from Poland it is clear that the Germans are now destroying with terrible ferocity the remaining Jews still living there.
"Within the ghetto walls the last act of tragedy, unprecedented in history, is now being played: The responsibility for the crime of murdering the whole Jewish population of Poland rests in the first place upon the murderers themselves but indirectly it rests also upon all humanity, the governments and peoples of the Allied States which have not yet undertaken any concrete action to stop this crime. By passively watching the extermination of millions of defenseless children, women and men being tortured to death, those countries become accomplices of the murderers.
"I also wish to declare that although the Polish Government has contributed to a large extent towards influencing world opinion, it has done nothing commensurate with the scale of the drama now taking place in Poland. Out of some 3,500,000 Polish Jews and 700,000 Jews deported to Poland from other countries, only 300,000 remained alive in April 1943, according to information from the leader of the underground Bund organization transmitted to us by the Government's Delegates. And the extermination continues without pause.
"I cannot remain silent. I cannot go on living when the remnants of the Jewish people in Poland of whom I am a representative are being eliminated. My comrades in the Warsaw ghetto died with arms in hand in their last heroic stand. It was not my destiny to perish as they did and with them. But I belong to them and to their mass graves.
"By my death I want to express my strongest protest against the passivity with which the world looks on and permits the extermination of the Jewish people. I know how little human life means in our times but since I could do nothing when alive, perhaps by my death I can help destroy the indifference of those who could save, perhaps at the last moment, those Polish Jews who are still alive.
"My life belongs to the Jewish people in Poland and that is why I am giving it to them. My wish is that the remnants of the several million Polish Jews may live to see liberation in a world of freedom and socialist justice, together with the Polish people. I believe that there will be such a Poland and that such a world will come.
"I am certain that you, Mr. President and Mr. Prime Minister, will transmit my words to all to whom they are addressed and that the Polish Government will immediately take appropriate action in the diplomatic field for the sake of those who are still alive. I send my farewell to everyone and everything that I hold dear and that I have loved.
London, May 1943"
Szmul Zygelbojm
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Jan Karski is the pseudonym of Jan Kozielewski, an official of the pre-war Ministry of Foreign Affairs, now a professor at Georgetown University in Washington. During the occupation, Kozielewski served as liaison officer of the Command of the Home Army and the Delegate's Office in Poland to the Government-in-Exile. In the autumn of 1942, that is after the first large-scale deportation from the Warsaw ghetto, he went to London as a courier of the Home Army in order to report on the situation in Poland. The effects of his account can be gathered from an official note of the BIP on a conversation on March 24th, 1943 with Jerzy Lerski (pseudonym "Jur"), a parachutist sent from England to Poland: "The documents brought by W. ["Witold"Ñ one of the pseudonyms used by Kozielewski in the Home Army] caused a great sensation, the international effects of which are known as the 'Campaign for the Jews'."
In 1944 Karski published in Boston (Houghton Mifflin Co.) his book Story of a Secret State written in 1943, which figured on the list of best-sellers for a long time. In 1948 a French translation was published in Paris under the title Mon temoignage devant le monde.
The younger of Karski's two collocutors was most probably Menachem Kirszenbaum, the president of the Underground Jewish National Committee; the older was Leon Fajner (Feiner; "Mikotaj", "Berezowski"; 1888-1945), a Cracow lawyer, during the occupation the representative of the Bund to the civilian authorities of the Polish Underground collaborating with the Polish Government in London, member of the Council for Aid to Jews. [/quote]
Israeli Jews shoud not rely on USA or other western oficial institutions; including leadership of American Jewry. Iran nuclear and Syrian chemicall instalations must be bombed ASAP.