Shabbat Tetzaveh - 10 Adar I, 5768
In English, there is only one word- "sorry"- and it's used in a variety of contexts.
In Hebrew, however, this one English expression translates into two very different Hebrew words: "slicha" which means "Forgive (me)" and "Ani Mitzta'er" which means "I am pained".
If you accidently knock into someone, let alone purposely hurt him, you would say "slicha" and ask for forgiveness.
If you become aware that someone is ill or has suffered any kind of loss, the appropriate expression is "Ani Mizta'er"- I am sorry (pained) to hear it.
The events of this week made me aware of the huge difference between the two alternate meanings of this one word.
For a long time I have believed that former Prime Minister John Howard- who will always have a very special place in our hearts as a true and loyal friend of Israel, and one of its greatest allies at a time that she was almost devoid of support- made a serious error when it came to his refusal to say "sorry" to the "stolen generation". What could be worse than tearing children away from their parents and families? And, yes, although the individuals who perpetrated these actions are no longer with us, the Nation and Government areÊ- in the words of our Rabbis, "Tzibbur eino meta" - a community (let alone a nation) doesn't die. And so it was, and is, appropriate to say sorry.
However two things came to the forefront this past Wednesday, 13th of February.
On the one hand, you couldn't help but be carried along with the raw emotion of the day; the tears and expressions of relief by those who, a lifetime ago, were ripped from the bosoms of their families and loved ones. They had been waiting so long for this day of closure -a day in which their suffering- the pain of their separation- would be finally recognized. They needed and deserved this day that was all too long in coming.
On the other hand, for those who would listen, there were other voices as well. There was the poignant interview with a 94-year-old teacher who had taught some of the "stolen" children. With great dignity she described the opportunities that they had been given to lead healthy and productive lives as full members of the Australian communityÊ- an opportunity that was not given to those who were left behind.
And here is what Rebekah Devlin, senior journalist at the Adelaide Advertiser, and whose grandmother numbered among the stolen generation, wrote this past week.
"I have been given every opportunity white Australia has been granted, I attended private school and lived a life as far removed from my ancestors as is possible.
What would have become of me had I been born in the Pitjantjatjara lands in the state's far north? Would I still have a successful career, my own home and a university degree?
I doubt it.
I have spent time around Ernabella in the Pit lands and quite frankly, I was horrified. Petrol sniffing is rampant, teenagers are hanging themselves and children walk around infested with disease.
You see very few of us are truly capable of rising above our circumstance."
This does not excuse the taking of the children - and it is something that no one should or would condone today. However, the sense of what is right and wrong does change between generations - and while saying sorry today we must be careful not to condemn those who, in a different era, chose differently than we would today.
The horror of being ripped from one's mother's bosom is too shocking to contemplate. As Jews, we should know. In early nineteenth century Russia, under the Czarist regime, tens of thousands of Jewish children suffered a similar fate - and for far less noble reasons. However we should also bear in mind that had they not been taken, many of the "stolen generation" who were present for the long-sought and certainly-deserved "sorry" would not have been there. Many are now in their seventies and eighties whereas the general life-expectancy of male Aboriginal Australians is a mere 59.
While nothing can replace the most basic human bond of mother and child no matter what else is on offer, it certainly appears that those who suffered this inhumane suffering were given opportunities that many of those left behind on the settlements still do not have today.
And this is why I believe that of the two meanings of sorry, the Hebrew "Ani Mizta'er - I feel your pain" is far more appropriate than "Slicha - I beg your forgiveness". The latter implies a certain condemnation of those in the past whose motives we are now questioning. The former is a deep expression of empathy for the pain - no matter how well intentioned - that was suffered. To me, at least, it appears that this is the kind of "sorry" that all Australians could agree to.
What we should be asking forgiveness for is the fact that the standard of health, education and quality of living amongst Aboriginal Australians was, and still is, far below the standards of the rest of the country. Having invaded their country, and for all intents destroyed their culture and way of life, we did and do have a moral obligation to see them integrated into the modern Australian way of life. However, as Jewish Law teaches us, asking forgiveness for the past - Teshuva - only works in conjunction with a commitment towards a better future. I truly hope that the Government of our great Nation is up to the task that they have set themselves.
Rabbi Benzion Milecki OAM
February 15, 2008 |