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PERMANENT MISSION OF ARMENIA TO THE UNITED NATIONS
Contact: Dziunik AGHAJANIAN
Minister-Counsellor
Deputy Permanent Representative
119 East 36th Street, New York, NY 10016, USA
Tel: 1-212-686-9079
Fax: 1-212-686-3934
Mobile: 1-917-940-5665
http://www.un.org/webcast/2005.html
STATEMENT
by H.E. Mr. Vartan Oskanian
Minister of Foreign Affairs of Armenia
to the 28th Special Session
of the UN General Assembly
Mr. President
Your Excellencies
Dear Friends,
On behalf of the people and government of Armenia, and as a descendant of
genocide survivors, I feel compelled to be here today, to join other
survivors and descendants, of both victims and perpetrators, to take part in
this commemoration. I am also duty-bound to urge us all to confront more
effectively the threat of genocide anywhere, at any time, regardless of cost
and political discomfort.
The liberation of Auschwitz is, indeed, cause for commemorative celebration.
However, in this commemoration, with each uttering of the name Auschwitz, we
are forced to reflect: to look back, look around, look deep, look at the
other, but also look inward, at ourselves.
After 9/11 and reacting to the unusually high number of victims of a
singular event, an editorialist proclaimed "We are all Americans". Sympathy,
solidarity, anxiety, and indignation bound us together. How much more
intense our feelings about Auschwitz and the singularity of its horror, its
synonymity with the technology of death-making, its eerily ordinary
commitment to efficiency, to pragmatic, effective, result-oriented
administration.
After Auschwitz, we are all Jews, we are all Gypsies, we are all unfit,
deviant and undesirable, for someone, somewhere. After Auschwitz, the
conscience of man cannot remain the same. Man's inhumanity to men, to women,
to children, and to the elderly, is no longer a concept in search of a name,
an image, a description. Auschwitz lends its malefic aura to all the
Auschwitzes of history, our collective history, both before and after.
In the 20th century alone, with its 15 genocides, the victims have their own
names for places of infamy. What the French call 'les lieux infames de
memoire' are everywhere. Places of horror, slaughter, of massacre, of the
indiscriminate killing of all those who have belonged to a segment, a
category, an ethnic group, a race or a religion. For Armenians, it is the
desert of Deir-El-Zor, for Cambodians they are the killing fields, for the
children of the 21st century, it is Darfur. For the Jews and Poles and for a
whole generation of us growing up after The War, it is Auschwitz.
Mr. President,
Just as we all were, or are, or might be victims, we all were or are or
might also be guilty. It is only through the engagement of those who have
seen and done the unimaginable, and who have had the dignity, the grace, the
sensitivity, the decency and courage to acknowledge wrongdoing, that we may
achieve the requisite collective political will and its expression.
This is not as naïve, unrealistic, idealistic as some might wish to label
it, perhaps in order to dismiss it. Genocide is not about individuals who
act insanely, do evil, commit crimes, perpetrate irrevocable wrongs.
Genocide is the undertaking of a state apparatus, which must, by definition,
act coherently, pragmatically, with structure and organization.
Thus, this is not a plea to reform human beings, but an appeal to take
conscious account of the role of our national institutions and international
institutions must play to insure that no one can expect to enjoy impunity.
After Auschwitz one would expect that no one any longer has a right to turn
a blind eye or a deaf ear. As an Armenian, I know that a blind eye, a deaf
ear and a muted tongue perpetuate the wounds. It is a memory of suffering
unrelieved by strong condemnation and unequivocal recognition. The catharsis
that the victims deserve, which societies require in order to heal and move
forward together, obligates us here at the UN, and in the international
community, to be witness, to call things by their name, to remove the veil
of obfuscation, of double standards, of political expediency.
Mr. Presidents,
Following the Tsunami-provoked disaster, we have become painfully aware of a
paradox. On the one hand, multilateral assistance efforts were massive,
swift, generous and without discrimination. But, when compared and
contrasted with today's other major tragedy, in Africa, it is plain that for
Darfur, formal and ritual condemnation has not been followed by any
dissuasive action against the perpetrators.
The difference with the Tsunami, of course, was that there were no
perpetrators. No one wielded the sword, pulled the trigger or pushed the
button that released the gas.
Recognizing the victims and acknowledging them is also to recognize that
there are perpetrators. But this is absolutely not the same as actually
naming them, shaming them, dissuading or warning them, isolating or
punishing them.
If these observations signal a certain naiveté that overlooks the enduring
structures of our political and security interests, then, on this occasion,
when we have gathered to commemorate this horrible event, then allow me this
one question: if not here and now, then where and when?
Mr. President,
The Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana, who has been quoted here,
admonished us to remember the past, or be condemned to repeat it. This
admonition has significance for me personally, because the destruction of my
people, whose fate in some way impinged upon the fate of the Jews of Europe,
should have been viewed more widely seen as a warning of things to come.
Jews and Armenians are linked forever by Hitler. Who, after all, speaks
today of the annihilation of the Armenians? said Adolf Hitler, days before
he entered Poland.
Hitler's cynical remembrance of Armenians is prominently displayed in the
Holocaust Memorial in Washington because it is profound commentary about the
crucial role of third parties in genocide prevention and remembrance.
Genocide is the manifestation of the break in the covenant that governments
have with their peoples. Therefore, it is third parties who become crucial
actors in genocide prevention, humanitarian assistance and genocide
remembrance.
We are commemorating today, because the Soviet troops marched into Auschwitz
60 years ago. I am here today because the Arabs provided sanctuary to
Armenian deportees 90 years ago.
Third parties, indeed, can make the difference between life and death. Their
rejection of the behaviors and policies which are neither in anyone's
national interest nor in humanity's international interest, is of immense
moral and political value.
What neighbors, well-wishers, the international community can't accomplish,
is the transcending and reconciling which the parties must do for
themselves. The victims, first, must exhibit the dignity, capacity and
willingness to move on, and the perpetrators, first and last, must summon
the deep force of humanity and goodness and must overcome the memory of the
inner evil which had already prevailed, and must renounce the deed, its
intent, its consequences, its architects and executors.
Auschwitz signifies the worst of hate, of indifference, of dehumanization.
Remembrance of Auschwitz and its purpose, however abhorrent, is a vital step
to making real the phrase "Never Again".
Thank you.
Contact: Dziunik AGHAJANIAN
Minister-Counsellor
Deputy Permanent Representative
119 East 36th Street, New York, NY 10016, USA
Tel: 1-212-686-9079
Fax: 1-212-686-3934
Mobile: 1-917-940-5665
http://www.un.org/webcast/2005.html
STATEMENT
by H.E. Mr. Vartan Oskanian
Minister of Foreign Affairs of Armenia
to the 28th Special Session
of the UN General Assembly
Mr. President
Your Excellencies
Dear Friends,
On behalf of the people and government of Armenia, and as a descendant of
genocide survivors, I feel compelled to be here today, to join other
survivors and descendants, of both victims and perpetrators, to take part in
this commemoration. I am also duty-bound to urge us all to confront more
effectively the threat of genocide anywhere, at any time, regardless of cost
and political discomfort.
The liberation of Auschwitz is, indeed, cause for commemorative celebration.
However, in this commemoration, with each uttering of the name Auschwitz, we
are forced to reflect: to look back, look around, look deep, look at the
other, but also look inward, at ourselves.
After 9/11 and reacting to the unusually high number of victims of a
singular event, an editorialist proclaimed "We are all Americans". Sympathy,
solidarity, anxiety, and indignation bound us together. How much more
intense our feelings about Auschwitz and the singularity of its horror, its
synonymity with the technology of death-making, its eerily ordinary
commitment to efficiency, to pragmatic, effective, result-oriented
administration.
After Auschwitz, we are all Jews, we are all Gypsies, we are all unfit,
deviant and undesirable, for someone, somewhere. After Auschwitz, the
conscience of man cannot remain the same. Man's inhumanity to men, to women,
to children, and to the elderly, is no longer a concept in search of a name,
an image, a description. Auschwitz lends its malefic aura to all the
Auschwitzes of history, our collective history, both before and after.
In the 20th century alone, with its 15 genocides, the victims have their own
names for places of infamy. What the French call 'les lieux infames de
memoire' are everywhere. Places of horror, slaughter, of massacre, of the
indiscriminate killing of all those who have belonged to a segment, a
category, an ethnic group, a race or a religion. For Armenians, it is the
desert of Deir-El-Zor, for Cambodians they are the killing fields, for the
children of the 21st century, it is Darfur. For the Jews and Poles and for a
whole generation of us growing up after The War, it is Auschwitz.
Mr. President,
Just as we all were, or are, or might be victims, we all were or are or
might also be guilty. It is only through the engagement of those who have
seen and done the unimaginable, and who have had the dignity, the grace, the
sensitivity, the decency and courage to acknowledge wrongdoing, that we may
achieve the requisite collective political will and its expression.
This is not as naïve, unrealistic, idealistic as some might wish to label
it, perhaps in order to dismiss it. Genocide is not about individuals who
act insanely, do evil, commit crimes, perpetrate irrevocable wrongs.
Genocide is the undertaking of a state apparatus, which must, by definition,
act coherently, pragmatically, with structure and organization.
Thus, this is not a plea to reform human beings, but an appeal to take
conscious account of the role of our national institutions and international
institutions must play to insure that no one can expect to enjoy impunity.
After Auschwitz one would expect that no one any longer has a right to turn
a blind eye or a deaf ear. As an Armenian, I know that a blind eye, a deaf
ear and a muted tongue perpetuate the wounds. It is a memory of suffering
unrelieved by strong condemnation and unequivocal recognition. The catharsis
that the victims deserve, which societies require in order to heal and move
forward together, obligates us here at the UN, and in the international
community, to be witness, to call things by their name, to remove the veil
of obfuscation, of double standards, of political expediency.
Mr. Presidents,
Following the Tsunami-provoked disaster, we have become painfully aware of a
paradox. On the one hand, multilateral assistance efforts were massive,
swift, generous and without discrimination. But, when compared and
contrasted with today's other major tragedy, in Africa, it is plain that for
Darfur, formal and ritual condemnation has not been followed by any
dissuasive action against the perpetrators.
The difference with the Tsunami, of course, was that there were no
perpetrators. No one wielded the sword, pulled the trigger or pushed the
button that released the gas.
Recognizing the victims and acknowledging them is also to recognize that
there are perpetrators. But this is absolutely not the same as actually
naming them, shaming them, dissuading or warning them, isolating or
punishing them.
If these observations signal a certain naiveté that overlooks the enduring
structures of our political and security interests, then, on this occasion,
when we have gathered to commemorate this horrible event, then allow me this
one question: if not here and now, then where and when?
Mr. President,
The Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana, who has been quoted here,
admonished us to remember the past, or be condemned to repeat it. This
admonition has significance for me personally, because the destruction of my
people, whose fate in some way impinged upon the fate of the Jews of Europe,
should have been viewed more widely seen as a warning of things to come.
Jews and Armenians are linked forever by Hitler. Who, after all, speaks
today of the annihilation of the Armenians? said Adolf Hitler, days before
he entered Poland.
Hitler's cynical remembrance of Armenians is prominently displayed in the
Holocaust Memorial in Washington because it is profound commentary about the
crucial role of third parties in genocide prevention and remembrance.
Genocide is the manifestation of the break in the covenant that governments
have with their peoples. Therefore, it is third parties who become crucial
actors in genocide prevention, humanitarian assistance and genocide
remembrance.
We are commemorating today, because the Soviet troops marched into Auschwitz
60 years ago. I am here today because the Arabs provided sanctuary to
Armenian deportees 90 years ago.
Third parties, indeed, can make the difference between life and death. Their
rejection of the behaviors and policies which are neither in anyone's
national interest nor in humanity's international interest, is of immense
moral and political value.
What neighbors, well-wishers, the international community can't accomplish,
is the transcending and reconciling which the parties must do for
themselves. The victims, first, must exhibit the dignity, capacity and
willingness to move on, and the perpetrators, first and last, must summon
the deep force of humanity and goodness and must overcome the memory of the
inner evil which had already prevailed, and must renounce the deed, its
intent, its consequences, its architects and executors.
Auschwitz signifies the worst of hate, of indifference, of dehumanization.
Remembrance of Auschwitz and its purpose, however abhorrent, is a vital step
to making real the phrase "Never Again".
Thank you.