Interesting People mailing list archives

IP: an essay by Philippe Kahn on censorship MUST READ!!! djf


From: Dave Farber <farber () central cis upenn edu>
Date: Mon, 26 Feb 1996 11:29:45 -0500

Amusing Rants from Dave Winer's Desktop
Released on 2/26/96; 8:00:57 AM PST
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  Philippe Kahn, philippe () aol com, CEO of Starfish Software, and
  founder of Borland International, wrote an essay for the 24 Hours
  project. Here's what he wrote:


  ---  --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
  During the German occupation, the French sometimes had been more
  diligent promoters of the Holocaust than the Germans themselves.
  Few Jewish families survived.


  In the 60s Jewish Children weren't welcome in French Schools. In my
  school most of the parents of the Jewish children were hard working
  cabinet makers, tailors or carpenters. They worked to get their
  children an education.


  For most of the Jewish families, France had been their homes for no
  more than a generation. At the turn of the Century, they migrated from
  Eastern Europe, usually arriving with no more than a shirt on their
  backs, their violins and clarinets. And the great hope from a new
  lease on life. It lasted a short while.


  In my school,in the heart of Paris, out of several thousand kids there
  were a handful of us. We were different. We were kept apart. The
  neighborhoods were pretty rough. We got together and practiced
  boxing and martial arts. It was self defense


  Often we'd come home bruised, our clothes ripped.


  One day they had posters in the neighborhood, inviting kids to join
  the "keepers of the Great Aryan Principles". About ten kids, part of a
  neo-Nazi group, were holding a meeting and explaining how the
  Holocaust never happened and why it was another fabrication of the
  Jews.


  That was too much. Three of us decided to go and present a
  counter-argument. They didn't see it that way. They beat us up with
  steel bars and kicked us with their combat boots.


  I came back home with a broken nose, limping and bruises all over my
  body.


  When my Mother arrived, I was furious. I told her how it was
  unbelievable to see people expressing such lies and insults. How
  they should not be allowed to publicize their opinions. How we should
  appeal to the highest authorities to stop them from publicizing
  those lies.


  She looked at me, listened. As she sat down at the table, I stared at the
  tattoos on her forearm: Unerasable memories of the years she had
  spent in the Death Camps and that she had miraculously survived.


  She looked me straight in the eyes and said: "For Centuries our people
  have been the victims of intolerance. The price of our freedom is the
  burden of having to accept the worst in public expression. For he who
  starts censorship will never know where and when to stop."


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