[Congressional Record Volume 141, Number 176 (Wednesday, November 8, 1995)]
[Senate]
[Pages S16817-S16818]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




           THE ASSASSINATION OF PRIME MINISTER YITZHAK RABIN

  Mr. FORD. Mr. President, just over 2 years ago, I watched as Chairman 
of the Palestinian Liberation Organization Yasir Arafat and Prime 
Minister 

[[Page S 16818]]
Yitzhak Rabin shook hands across a centuries old divide. With that 
handshake, they shed the weight of the past so they might find strength 
to conceive a different future.
  Even the desk where they signed the Declaration of Principles 
establishing Palestinian self-rule was symbolic of the long road they 
had taken. It was the same desk used in 1979 by Egyptian President 
Anwar Sadat and Israeli Premier Menachem Begin when they signed the 
Camp David Accord.
  But Saturday's assassination showed us all too painfully that even 
such powerful symbols cannot prevent the evil that is borne of 
extremism. They certainly can never prepare us for the deep sense of 
loss that cuts across religious, political and national lines.
  And too, Rabin's assassination is an unfortunate reminder that all 
too often, it is death and crisis, rather than life and peace, that 
binds us one to the other.
  A writer for the Washington Post commented that Rabin's casket 
``looked too small somehow to contain the enormity of his passing,'' 
and a store owner in Jerusalem put up a closed sign with the message, 
``We are all orphans now.''
  They understood the enormity of Rabin's passing, yet it was the 
smallest voice--the voice of his grandaughter--that reminded all of us 
what the universal struggle for peace is all about. She understood that 
our fallen heros are the mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, 
brothers and sisters of a country. And for those they've left behind, 
there is no consolation.
  When she spoke, the world understood that the stain of her 
grandfather's death would forever cast a shadow over the ultimate goal 
of peace--a chill felt by the millions of others who have lost someone 
in that quest.
  It was upon his descent into the inferno that Dante said ``I would 
not have thought, death had undone so many * * *.'' But he might just 
as well have been speaking about Israel as the country mourned the loss 
of a remarkable leader, a remarkable man.
  Mr. President, let me close by joining the countless others who have 
expressed their sadness and regret at this senseless loss, and their 
renewed commitment to the peace process.

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