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    An Open Letter to the World’s Anti-Semites
    by Isaac Kohn
    Nov 18, '03 /

    Dear World:

    Now that you have all reassembled here (only a few years after the Holocaust) in order to re-promote the one, universally accepted, unifying theme, eternally known as anti-Semitism, I'd like your attention for a moment or so, in order to deliver my short yet absolute defiance. Point blank and without much ado, let me greet you with the following, correctly-spelled, simple statement:

    Go to Hell!

    Oh, don't look so shocked! I know that it's impolite, both politically and socially, to speak in such foul manner to distinguished representatives of the human race. However, I feel that, at this juncture, as the universe is quickly hurtling towards the conclusion of the prophecy of Gog and Magog, perhaps some honest words ought to be heard. The lies that are thickly engulfing your combined lives, the duplicity that runs through your collective veins, needs a dose of truism and revelation. The thick skin of evil inventions and fabrications you are comfortably wallowing in, needs to be peeled aside; the true face of your hate and animosity must be unmasked.

    Dear World:

    There in front of me sit the creme-de-la-creme leaders of today's humankind; despots and murderers, dictators and oppressors. Sitting in the seat of power, to mention but a few, are the crazed Islamofascists in Iran, the lunatic Khaddafy, the blood-soaked, mental-midget of Syria, the iron-fisted tyrants of China. Yet, the world's agenda and schedule of events is limited in its focal concentration. It is this immensely popular focal point that I would like to address. I beg your indulgence.

    Dear World:

    I have come to the conclusion that you hate me because I am, and you hate me because I'm not. You hate me for what you think I ought to be, and you hate me that much more when I try to be that which you imagine me to be.

    You hate me when I succeed, you hate me for not failing; when I fail, you rejoice. You hate me for being poor and hate me even more if I'm rich. The wealth I have was stolen, you say; honesty is not part of me. So you proceeded to steal from me, to rob, to plunder and pillage.

    You lament: 'Why do you stay apart from all of us? Why don't you try to come closer, to adapt.' But if I do, you hate me for 'stepping over the line', which your hate for me has long-ago drawn in the sand. You hate my unshakable faith in my religion and you do whatever you can to reach my soul. And if, at times, you succeed with one or two of my fellow Jews, you hate them even more for not being true to their own religion, for being traitors to their own faith.

    Dear World:

    Only recently, your hate-poisoned minds devised the most gruesome methods and inventions in order to vent your hate for me; you gassed and hanged and shot and bludgeoned me. Your hate, filled the rivers with my blood, the crematoriums turned the skies black with my ashes. You hated me for my imagined complacency in the face of such unimaginable atrocity and you hate me now for no longer willing to be complacent in the face of your continuing, unwarranted hate.

    You hated me long before the State of Israel was even a dream; 'Go to Palestine, that's your land!' your crazed, rampaging mobs screamed as government-sanctioned, Church-sponsored, pogroms raged through my villages and towns. So I did. I left your miserable, evil-infested shores and returned to my own land, the lands you admitted are mine. And you hate me for doing exactly that, and 'Get out of Palestine, you stole the land!' the new placards of incitement and hate are screaming now.

    And because I survived against your wishes, against all odds, you hate me even more. You hate my ability to rise again and again from the inferno your hate keeps igniting. You hate my resilience, my perseverance; you despise my capacity to outlive, outsmart, outperform. I have outlived every one of my detractors and tormentors; the Romans, the Greeks, the Crusaders and the infamous Nazis are merely pages in the annals of history. They no longer exist as anything more than artifacts in a museum and as archeological diggings and remnants, but I survived and I flourished. My fingerprints are visible in every facet of daily living in science and medicine. Yes, I lead in medical research and innovations; and, yes, many of the medicines you administer and the inventions you heal with have my imprint on them. You use and employ and utilize all of my successes. And for having achieved, you hate me, too.

    Dear World:

    I am here, today, alive and well, in spite of your wishes, against all logical odds. After two thousand years of unrelenting persecution, I am still here. I have resisted and survived every imaginable atrocity your evil minds could possibly conjure, and I survived your unimaginable torture and starvation. The gallows were never high enough, the Auto-de-Fe never hot enough, the Inquisition's torture never gruesome enough. The Nazis invented new ideas and methodology in order to eradicate me, the Jew. You did your best to force me to convert, broke my body and spirit, yet never touched my soul. And as punishment for having survived, you confiscated my property, denied me basic human rights and expelled me from your land. And having done all you can to promote and assist the Nazis in my eradication, you hate me enough to deny it.

    You hate me, for the sake of hate itself. And if I, the Jew, were to somehow disappear, what shall become of your hate? Should I disappear, one in my image would have to be created. For imagine how boring life would be; where will all your hate be directed? Imagine, if you will, a Durban Conference Against Racism, without the 'Kill The Jews' signs and placards? How empty and silent would the Security Council chambers be, if there was no Jew to condemn? After all, tyrannies, dictatorships and self-appointed, murdering despots don't provide the enthusiasm needed as does another hate-filled motion to blindly convict me. How listless and boring would the General Assembly of the United Nations be if the ever-present punching-bag ceased to exist? You hate me, dear world, and I, the Jew, despise you.

    Dear World:

    I have only touched the surface of your deep hate; three-thousand-three-hundred years of hate can not be analyzed in a mere few pages. Let me, therefore, end this letter on a positive note:

    You can positively go to Hell!
 
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