September 25, 2006

Dear Colleague,

    You want to do the right thing, but you can't because you have a family and your primary obligation is to it. When Holland was occupied by the Germans, those who sought shelter for Jewish refugees in Dutch homes were often rebuffed on the ground that doing so would endanger their own family. Not all, however, refused, and some seemed to have had no hesitation sacrificing their own family for strangers.

    Here is one such case. A Dutch woman by the name of Corrie ten Boom sought to hide a Jewish baby. Her home was not safe, for she was too closely associated with the Resistance. So when one day the pastor came to her father's watch repair shop to see about a repair, she asked him to take the baby to the pastor's home, which was by far the safest place. He not only refused, but was outraged.

"Miss Boom! I do hope you're not involved with any of this illegal business. It is not safe." Corrie then went to the part of the shop where the baby slept and took him to the pastor so that he could see him with his own eyes. " I pulled back the coverlet from the baby's face. There was a long silence. The man bent forward, his hand in spite of himself reaching for the tiny fist... For a moment I saw compassion and fear struggle in his face. Then he straightened. 'No. Definitely not. We could lose our lives for that Jewish child.' Unseen by either of us, Father appeared at the doorway. 'Give the child to me, Corrie,' he said. Father held the baby close, looking into the little face... At last he looked up at the pastor. 'You say we could lose our lives for this child. I would consider that the greatest honor that could come to my family.' " (Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place, 1971, p. 99).

    I italicized the last two sentences, for I find them quite remarkable.

    Here is another story, different yet the same to the extent that it shows not only a Father's willingness to sacrifice his family, but his family's compliance and, possibly even connivance.

"I went to the apartment of Abu Hussein, a leader of the Qassam Brigados in Gaza. The walls were scarred by bullets, and we could hear Israeli tanks firing nerby. As we sat in Abu Hussein's living room, he pulled his 15-year old son, Hussein, close to him. Hussein is a spirited ninth grader whose passion, he told me, is drawing. 'I want him to finish his studies, but if he happens to die, I don't have a problem,' his father said, 'so long as he dies as a martyr, and on condition that he takes Jews with him when he dies. I will be happy if he dies that way.' "    

"Hussein ran out of the room and came back with a photograph of himself. 'This is my martyr picture,' he said, handing it to me. In the photograph, he wore khaki shirt and pants and held an AK-47. 'If I die, this is the photo that will appear on the martyr posters in Gaza.' "    

" 'Islam is winning,' his father said. 'We'll keep improving our weapons and rockets, and we're not afraid of martyrdom. We are happy to sacrifice our families to win this battle... ' "

"Hussein said, 'I'm his only son, and he wants me to die!' Then he laughed and put his arm around his father." (G. Goldberg, "Letter from Gaza," The New Yorker, Sept. 11, 2006).

    I italicized the last two sentences, for I find them quite remarkable—and most disturbing.

Best wishes,

Yi-Fu