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No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
--John Donne, Meditation XVII (1624)

We are pleased to introduce you to our new logo--a BELL--as suggested by 17th century poet John Donne whose good counsel in his prose "Meditation XVII" could not be more timely, despite the archaic pronouns: "NEVER SEND TO KNOW FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS; IT TOLLS FOR THEE"

Many of us believed--or at least fervently hoped, even as some of us prayed--that following the Holocaust the world would be alert and instantly responsive to any sign of genocide, whenever and wherever it occurred. Such a sign, no matter how early or tentative, would surely (as we naively expected) set off international alarms and mobilize forces poised for intervention, or better still, prevention of full­blown violence and destruction. Unfortunately this has not been the case. The popular and well-meaning cry of "never again" swiftly gave way to the sad recognition of "ever and ever again," as we somewhat incredulously observed a succession of post-war genocides in various parts of the world. Looking back then to the decades following the Holocaust, we cannot help but see clearly--and tragically--that the Holocaust has not in fact served as dire and horrific warning but rather as a kind of chilling precedent. As a "model" of sorts.

In many ways the Holocaust remains unique in that it was an ideologically driven and state implemented national policy, ultimately international in its impact and implications. Designed specifically to exterminate a small group of people, the Jews, simply because they were Jews and for no other reason nor for any further benefit--military, economic, political, or territorial. Suffice it for the murderous enterprise of the Nazis that the Jews be erased from the face of the earth. In this sense, then, the Holocaust stands alone, without peer.

In a larger sense, however, we can see specific threads running from the Holocaust through the terrible genocides that have since plagued the 20th century, leaving wounds that will not heal and memories that will not fade. These include such horrors as the massive and indiscriminate slaughters of innocents, including children; the ruthless abuses of power by vicious dictators creating total destruction and devastation of native populations; the trauma inflicted not only on the victims themselves but on entire countries such as the former Yugoslavia and the Balkans as a whole.

Similarly, the evils of colonialism elsewhere in the world created wounds that also would not heal. Clearly in a world indifferent to suffering, and almost accustomed to it after the unspeakable atrocities of the Holocaust, a bell tolling in some distant land--such as Cambodia, East Timor, Rwanda--is scarcely heard. Not surprisingly, then, the moral responsibility so eloquently described by John Donne is easy to ignore--namely the responsibility to pay close attention; to identify with those under fire, to see the link between their fate and our own.