Remarks to the US Congress, Washington, DC, United States of America July 26, 1994

Mr. Chairman, Mr. President, Members of Congress, Your Royal Highness, King of Jordan, shalom,

Every year, on Memorial Day for the Fallen Soldiers of Israel, I stand in the cemetery on Mt. Herzl in Jerusalem. In front of me – graves and gravestones, colorful flowers growing above them – and thousands of pairs of teary eyes. I stand there in front of a large audience, silent – and in their eyes, I read the words of the young soldiers who died, as the American poet, Archibald Mac Leish wrote, “They say, Whether our lives and our deaths were for peace and a new hope or for nothing we cannot say: it is you who must say this…”

Ladies and gentlemen,
We have come today from Jerusalem to Washington, because we must say – and we have come to say to you – we dream of peace. We want peace. Here with me, at this place, are my partners to the great dream: here with me, here with you – Amiram Kaplan, whose first brother was killed in an accident, and his second brother was killed in a chase after terrorists and his third brother was killed at war, and his two parents died from heartbreak. Today, he pursues peace. Moshe Sasson, who, he and his father were emissaries of the state to the discussions with King Abdallah and in other peace delegations. Today, too, he is an emissary of peace. With me here today is my classmate, Chana Rivlin, a member of Kibbutz Gesher facing Jordan, which went through harsh wars, and she is a bereaved mother. From the window of her home, she looks at Jordan, and seeks the realization of the dream. Abraham Daskal, 90 years old, who worked for the Electric Company in Transjordan, who was privileged to participate in the celebrations of the birth of King Hussein, who wishes for peace in his lifetime. Dani Matt, who fought against the Jordanians in the War of Independence and was taken prisoner of war by Jordan and dedicated his life to the security of the State of Israel, and he hopes that his grandchildren will know no more wars. Mrs. Kadosh from Eilat, which touches the border with Jordan, which will be a magnet for shared tourism. Shimon Cahaner, who fought against the Jordanians, and countless times saw death in front of his eyes, today he eternalizes the memory of his friends who have fallen, hoping they were the last to fall. Talel Al-Krinawi, the representative of the Bedouins in Israel, waiting for the renewal of their friendship with their Bedouin brethren in Jordan. David Coren, from a kibbutz that was conquered by the Jordanians in 1948, and he awaits the day when the borders will be opened. Dr. Asher Susser, an academician, who has spent his entire adult life studying Jordan. Sharon Regev, whose father fell in the pursuit of terrorists in the Jordan Valley, and he supports peace with all his heart. Here they are in front of you, people who never found joy in their heart for victory in war – they rejoice in peace. I came here today from Jerusalem, also in the names of thousands of bereaved families in Israel, although I did not ask their permission, in the names of parents who buried their sons, in the name of children who will not have a father, in the names of the sons and daughters who are no longer – and return to us in our dreams, the sons who wanted to live, who wanted to love, who wanted to build a home. I came from Jerusalem in the names of the youth who have begun their lives with great hope, and now they are names on gravestones and on memorial walls, old pictures in albums, clothing orphaned in closets. Facing the parents whose lips say “kaddish” [the Jewish memorial prayer], more of the words of Mac Leish echo in my ears, from the mouths of the young soldiers who have died: “They say, We leave you our deaths. Give them their meaning…” Give their deaths meaning. Give us an end to war. Give us true peace. Give us the victory today that ends wars.

Here they are in front of you, people who never found joy in their heart for victory in war – they rejoice in peace. I came here today from Jerusalem, also in the names of thousands of bereaved families in Israel, although I did not ask their permission, in the names of parents who buried their sons, in the name of children who will not have a father, in the names of the sons and daughters who are no longer – and return to us in our dreams, the sons who wanted to live, who wanted to love, who wanted to build a home. I came from Jerusalem in the names of the youth who have begun their lives with great hope, and now they are names on gravestones and on memorial walls, old pictures in albums, clothing orphaned in closets. Facing the parents whose lips say “kaddish” [the Jewish memorial prayer], more of the words of Mac Leish echo in my ears, from the mouths of the young soldiers who have died: “They say, We leave you our deaths. Give them their meaning…” Give their deaths meaning. Give us an end to war. Give us true peace. Give us the victory today that ends wars.

Ladies and gentlemen, the controversy will never end. Who designs the face of history? The leaders, or the circumstances? Here is an answer for you: We, all of us, design the face of history. We, the people.

We – the farmer following the plow, the teacher in the school, the doctor saving lives, the scientist in front of the computer, the factory worker in front of the machine, the construction worker on the scaffolding. We – the mother accompanying her son on his army enlistment date; we – the father worried and concerned at night about the wellbeing of his children. We – Jews and Arabs. We – Israelis and Jordanians. We, the people. We design the face of history. We, the leaders, hear the voices, identify the murmurs of the heart of hundreds of thousands and the millions, and translate them to reality. Because were it not for my people so wanting peace, I would not be standing here today at this historic moment. I am convinced that if it were not for the children of Amman and the elderly of Irbid wanting peace, the women of Salt and the citizens of Aqaba, our partner to this great deed, the King of Jordan, would not stand here today, shaking hands, calling for peace.

The responsibility is in our hands. The power to make this decisive move is in our hands, and heaven forbid that we should miss this great hour, because this is the obligation of leaders to their people: to bring peace and welfare to their peoples. We are privileged that it is our fate today to do the will of our peoples. Ladies and gentlemen, the complex relations between Israel and Jordan have continued for generations. Today too, long after, we carry with us the good memories of the special relations between your country, His Royal Highness, and my people, as well as the difficult memories of those times when we found ourselves fighting each other.

We remember the nice times of your grandfather, the king, who sought paths to peace with the heads of the Jewish people and the leaders of the State of Israel when he was still in his youthful years. We have a lot of work ahead of us. We have a lot of psychological obstacles ahead of us. We have real practical problems ahead of us. On the Jordan River that separates us, walls of enmity were built. The obligation is placed upon you in Amman and us in Jerusalem to break through the psychological barriers now, to solve the practical problems. Yesterday, we already came a long way in the wonderful journey towards peace that will be all embracing – borders and water, security and economics, trade without embargos, tourism, environmental protections, and diplomatic relations. We seek peace among people.

Your Highness, beyond the ceremonies, after the celebrations, not easy negotiations await us. After all, a wonderful, shared tomorrow awaits us. The Middle East, the cradle of the great, monotheistic civilizations – Judaism, Christianity, and Islam – the Middle East that was the scene of a momentous event for wars, will be a place that it is a delight to live in. His Royal Highness, we live on the same strip of land. The same rain fertilizes our lands. The same arid wind dries our fields. We seek shelter in the shade of the same fig tree, and we eat the fruit of the same vine. We drink from the same well, and the laughter of the baby in Amman, awakens those asleep in the streets of Jerusalem. Only 70 minutes of travel separate Jerusalem and Amman. Seventy minutes and forty-six years. Just as we were great enemies, so we can become good neighbors. Your Highness, the King, both of us have seen a lot in our lifetimes. We have seen too much suffering in our lives. What will you leave to your child? What will I leave after to me, for my grandchildren? I don’t have assets, I only have dreams: to leave the coming generations a better world, more reconciled, a world that it is pleasant to live in. This is not too much. His Royal Highness, the State of Israel thanks you for your responsiveness to our hand extended in peace, for your diplomatic wisdom, your boldness, for the new hope that you have planted in our hearts today, in the hearts of your Jordanian subjects, in the hearts of all who pursue peace. I know that you have also gained all the admiration of the great America, the America that helps the brave make the peace of the brave.
First and foremost, I want to thank the President of the United States, Bill Clinton, to the presidents of the United States throughout the generations, to the members of the government over the years, to the vice-president, to the Speaker, to you, the elected and honorable representatives of the American people, and to you the great American people, there are no words in our mouths to thank you for the generations of generous support, understanding, and partnership the likes of which are few in modern history. Thank you, America.

Your Majesty, tomorrow I return to Jerusalem, the capital of the State of Israel and the heart of the Jewish people. On the sides of the road ascending to Jerusalem there are charred metal skeletons, cold, and mute. They are the remains of the caravans of vehicles, food, medication, that went up to the besieged Jerusalem forty-six years ago. For many citizens of Israel, this is a story of heroism and part of a legend. For me, and for my comrades in arms, every piece of cold metal on the way to Jerusalem is a bitter memory. I remember, as if it were today, the young people who were in those skeletons of metal. Their cries of pain are still ringing in my ears. I can still envision the blood draining from their bodies, and the silence of death stays with me. The quiet behind me. I remember them. I was their commander at war. For them, this ceremony came too late. The children have remained. The grandchildren remain. Friends have remained.

I, personal number, three-zero-seven-four-three, Chief of Staff (res.), Yitzhak Rabin, soldier in the Israel Defense Forces, and a soldier in the army for peace, I sent troops to the fire and soldiers to their death, I say to you, King of Jordan, and I say to you, American friends: Today we are embarking upon the war in which there are no dead and injured, no blood and no pain, and this is the only war in which it is a pleasure to take part – the war for peace. Tomorrow, on the road up to Jerusalem, thousands of flowers will envelop the parts of the rusty armor with love, those which never reached the city. Tomorrow, thousands of flowers will smile peace to us from the metal skeletons. In our book of books, peace is mentioned in its diverse combinations 237 times. This number from which we draw our values and our strength, Jeremiah says, and I quote from the lamentation to our matriarch, Rachel, “Keep your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears, for there is a reward for your work, the words of God.” We will not cease to cry for those who are gone, but on this summer day in Washington, far from home, we feel there is reward for our work, as in the words of the prophet. In the Jewish tradition, we bless every new tree, every new fruit. I will conclude with the Jewish blessing that accompanies us in our exile and in Israel for thousands of years, she’hechiyanu, v’kiyimanu, v’higiyanu l’zman hazeh [“that we have been given life, and been sustained, and been enabled to reach this moment”.] God, bless the peace!

Thank you.