Speech by Verhagen at Yad Vashem ceremony
Ambassador Kney-Tal, ladies and gentlemen,
Simon Wiesenthal famously reminded us that ‘for evil to prevail, it only requires good men to do nothing’. To stand on the sidelines. This, of course, is exactly what happened during the Second World War.
Persecution of Jews, raids and round-ups, deportations…. Most of the time Dutch people stood by and watched. Perhaps they suffered some inner turmoil, discomfort, even guilt. But if so, such feelings were suppressed by more selfish concerns, by fear, and a sense of not wanting to know. These excuses sound terribly hollow in the light of what followed. But that was the reality at the time. A great many good people did nothing. And the consequences were devastating.
The individuals we honour today belong to a small group of people who did do something. Who extended a hand to those in need. When faced with the choice – do I shut my eyes and turn away or do I try to make a difference? – they chose the latter. Even if it was inconvenient. Even if it placed them in danger. It was a moment in which their humanity was put to the test – a test they passed, sometimes in spite of themselves. One thing we know for certain is that their extraordinary actions saved lives. The fugitives they hid and the children they took into their homes lived to see the end of the war. They were able to build a new life, however difficult that must have been.
Today, the men and women who saved those lives have become small rays of light on a truly black page in human history. They were ordinary people who showed themselves capable of great deeds. Great deeds that sometimes lay in the smallest of actions. As in the case of Mr and Mrs Gossen-Schotkamp, who are among those we are honouring today. They arranged for the name of the boy they were hiding to be printed on their own daughter’s birth announcement. He thus gained a sister, and she a brother. At that time, it may have made the difference between life and death. Looking back now, it is a perfect symbol of enduring human concern.
Ladies and gentlemen,
I have visited Yad Vashem a number of times, and each time I have been deeply moved. It is as if you are suddenly thrown back into the darkest days of our history. There is suddenly nothing abstract about the Holocaust. It has a face. It leaves a scar on your soul, which brooks no denial. Six million Jews murdered. And when you step outside into the bright sunlight, you see the Promised Land. Because the contrast between the dark and the light is so sharp, so full of hope and prospects. Then you walk along the Avenue of the Righteous, and the sunlight comes through the trees, and you hear the birds singing. And you realise you’ve brought something out of the darkness with you: hope. A new beginning. The joy of knowing that there were also good people who did do something to help. Those being honoured today have earned their place on the Avenue, alongside more than four thousand other Dutch men and women.
Their choice for good in the face of evil serves as an example to us all. We, too, can make a difference in today’s world. We, too, can challenge injustice by choosing to do the right thing. We, too, can make the world a little better by helping those in need. That applies to us, as Dutch citizens. It applies to Israelis and Palestinians as they work to resolve decades of conflict. It applies to politicians. It applies to everybody. We must never again allow such darkness to enter the world. Let us pick up these rays of light. Let us share their stories. This is the only way to truly honour their achievement.
Thank you.