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WHEREVER THEY MAY BE
© 1972, The
Beate Klarsfeld Foundation
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Page 133 |
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BLOCKQUOTE>That is not anti-Zionism, but it is
anti-Semitism, and it is responsible for the evidence in the Slansky trial that
was trumped up because some demagogues needed a scapegoat.
Do not
permit such anti-Semitism to discredit socialism. The only possible remedy is
for broadminded Western anti-fascists to act openly against it and against its
proponents in the USSR, where the rights of Jews as citizens have been
shamefully abused; in Poland, where that utra-nationalist Moczar has become a
member of the Politburo while militant communist Jews have been chased out of
their country; and in the German Democratic Republic, where Neues
Deutschland has dared to approve without reservations the death sentences
in the Leningrad trials.
Citizens of Czechoslovakia, do not let
yourselves be contaminated. Take a stand against anti-Semitism!
A German-speaking student read my text and then asked me
whether I really was Beate Klarsfeld:
"Everyone has heard a lot about
you. Everyone knows about your campaign against Kiesinger, and everyone talks
about you in class. 'What you have done is extraordinary, and we have been
greatly inspired and encouraged by it. But I am afraid for you now, and I
strongly advise you to get out of here right away, because the police in
Czechoslovakia are very tough."
He took about twenty of my pamphlets
and promised he would give them to his friends.
After a quarter of an
hour I went to Wenceslas Square, where a large crowd had already gathered. But
everyone was so cautious that I practically had to run after people to get them
to take my pamphlet.
A few minutes later a policeman arrived to see
what was going on. I gave him a pamphlet at once. He went into a nearby
telephone booth, and I could hear him reading it aloud.
A few moments
later another policeman grabbed me by the arm, snatched my pamphlets away, and
shoved me into a police car. Then, after a long discussion with headquarters by
radio, we headed for a large modem building on a narrow street, which must have
been the police headquarters. Actually, I never knew where I was.
A
forty-five or fifty-year-old police official – stout, with a dark suit and
a pleasant enough face – questioned me in a small office. He got tougher
with every question he asked me in his reasonably good German. He emptied my
flight bag onto his desk and made an
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WHEREVER THEY MAY BE
© 1972, The
Beate Klarsfeld Foundation |
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Back |
Page 133 |
Forward |
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