Remembrance, Vigilance, and Beyond

On this solemn day of remembrance for the victims of the Holocaust, I am grateful for the opportunity to highlight the memory of my grandparents, who perished in Auschwitz in 1942, and that of my son, Daniel Pearl, who was murdered 60 years later, in Karachi, Pakistan.

Situated thousands of miles apart, and executed under totally different circumstances, by people of a different faith, language, and purpose, the two murders nevertheless illuminate each other as well as the topic under discussion.

Four years ago, almost to the day, in a desolate dungeon in Karachi, Pakistan, my son Danny was looking in the eye of evil, and proclaiming his identity.

Forced to appear before his captor's video camera, he said with pride:

"My name is Daniel Pearl,"

"I am a Jewish American from Encino, California."...

"My father is Jewish, my mother is Jewish, I am Jewish."

I doubt whether my grandparents were ever asked to state their Jewishness--the Nazis did not need such confirmation. Yet Danny, I am sure, had a special message to convey in those words.

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