Imagine how surprised I was a couple of days ago, after I knocked on the wrong door and a voice said ?Come in,? and there I was, looking at a whole bunch of Very Important People, all sitting around a big table. I knew, the moment I laid eyes on them, that they had been expecting someone else, but, as they say, feint heart never won fair lady, so I pretended I was who they must have thought I was, and sat down on the chair that someone pulled out for me.
It was smiles all round, although the Arab leaders swinging from the chandeliers almost distracted me from asking the obvious question; just who are you guys? I mean, I knew the faces were familiar, and I did recognise the Generally Attorney, the Minister for Fraternity and the Minister for Equality, but the rest of them looked like strangers to me. That's probably because I'm just a rookie, I thought, I haven't been a journalist for very long. Three weeks, actually.
I jumped straight into the one thing we all want to know, immediately. I looked the Generally Attorney in the eye and said, ?With respect, sir, can you tell me why you have it in for Arutz? I mean, sir, surely you don't think killing one website can help you in your plans to make peace with people who don't know what the word means, or help you to make them accept their own state, when we all know they really don't want one...?
You should have seen their faces. Generally Attorney held up his hand to let them know he was going to answer. He said, ?If it wasn't for the incitement created by those dreadful folk on Arutz, we wouldn't have a problem with the PA. What people have to learn to understand is the sensitivity of the Arab mind, how quickly and easily they are humiliated and how fragile their sense of honour is. It pains the Arab no end to continuously read about our lack of respect for them and their peaceful religion, and we will never reach their hearts and minds while we allow a website to tell the truth openly.?
So, I pointed out to him, I thought this reeked of censorship. He shook his head and pointed his finger at me, while the Minister for Fraternity and the Minister for Equality nodded wisely and looked at me condescendingly.
He replied: ?Young woman, you may name it censorship, but I prefer to call it prudence. And it is prudence that will prevail. Yes, prudence is the best and only solution. We will close down the radio stations, the newspapers and the websites; yes, we will shut them all down if they continue to print the truth and incite our friends to murder and mayhem, we will get our news by carrier pigeon, by donkey relay, by camel train or on little rolls of toilet paper secreted into the shoes of marathon runners, who will smuggle the news across borders in no time at all. And let them quietly wipe us out one by one without a murmur, but no one will be upset by bad news anymore, because, with all communication under our control, no one will know what's really going on, right? I'll show them how to get along with our neighbours, and if there is only one man left who wants to tell the truth, by the time I have carried out my plans, I will see to it that this someone has his tongue cut out!?
I was impressed. He looked so smug and sure of himself, and I am, after all, a budding journalist. I knew what he meant. It was time for me to take my leave, so I thanked them all for their precious time, and just as I was leaving the room, I chanced to look out of the window, and saw a thousand or more hooded men, all screaming ?Death to the Jews,? as they ran through the streets below. I turned and looked at the Very Important People in the room to see how they might account for this, and was pleased to hear the Minister for Equality assure me they were only freedom fighters, who would all settle down after they had heard that Arutz would be silenced. I lifted my hand in a farewell, and made my exit.
That's when I heard a loud explosion and ran down the stairs. The street was full of screaming people, rubble, smoke and flames, and as I picked my way through the destruction, the broken glass and body parts, I had to admit to myself I had huge doubts. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I was offered a cup of tea while I was in the room. I don't know if this is related, but the waiter was a huge white rabbit wearing a tall, black top-hat.
It was smiles all round, although the Arab leaders swinging from the chandeliers almost distracted me from asking the obvious question; just who are you guys? I mean, I knew the faces were familiar, and I did recognise the Generally Attorney, the Minister for Fraternity and the Minister for Equality, but the rest of them looked like strangers to me. That's probably because I'm just a rookie, I thought, I haven't been a journalist for very long. Three weeks, actually.
I jumped straight into the one thing we all want to know, immediately. I looked the Generally Attorney in the eye and said, ?With respect, sir, can you tell me why you have it in for Arutz? I mean, sir, surely you don't think killing one website can help you in your plans to make peace with people who don't know what the word means, or help you to make them accept their own state, when we all know they really don't want one...?
You should have seen their faces. Generally Attorney held up his hand to let them know he was going to answer. He said, ?If it wasn't for the incitement created by those dreadful folk on Arutz, we wouldn't have a problem with the PA. What people have to learn to understand is the sensitivity of the Arab mind, how quickly and easily they are humiliated and how fragile their sense of honour is. It pains the Arab no end to continuously read about our lack of respect for them and their peaceful religion, and we will never reach their hearts and minds while we allow a website to tell the truth openly.?
So, I pointed out to him, I thought this reeked of censorship. He shook his head and pointed his finger at me, while the Minister for Fraternity and the Minister for Equality nodded wisely and looked at me condescendingly.
He replied: ?Young woman, you may name it censorship, but I prefer to call it prudence. And it is prudence that will prevail. Yes, prudence is the best and only solution. We will close down the radio stations, the newspapers and the websites; yes, we will shut them all down if they continue to print the truth and incite our friends to murder and mayhem, we will get our news by carrier pigeon, by donkey relay, by camel train or on little rolls of toilet paper secreted into the shoes of marathon runners, who will smuggle the news across borders in no time at all. And let them quietly wipe us out one by one without a murmur, but no one will be upset by bad news anymore, because, with all communication under our control, no one will know what's really going on, right? I'll show them how to get along with our neighbours, and if there is only one man left who wants to tell the truth, by the time I have carried out my plans, I will see to it that this someone has his tongue cut out!?
I was impressed. He looked so smug and sure of himself, and I am, after all, a budding journalist. I knew what he meant. It was time for me to take my leave, so I thanked them all for their precious time, and just as I was leaving the room, I chanced to look out of the window, and saw a thousand or more hooded men, all screaming ?Death to the Jews,? as they ran through the streets below. I turned and looked at the Very Important People in the room to see how they might account for this, and was pleased to hear the Minister for Equality assure me they were only freedom fighters, who would all settle down after they had heard that Arutz would be silenced. I lifted my hand in a farewell, and made my exit.
That's when I heard a loud explosion and ran down the stairs. The street was full of screaming people, rubble, smoke and flames, and as I picked my way through the destruction, the broken glass and body parts, I had to admit to myself I had huge doubts. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I was offered a cup of tea while I was in the room. I don't know if this is related, but the waiter was a huge white rabbit wearing a tall, black top-hat.