By SHARONE PARNES

My memories, perceptions and hopes emanating from the atrocious events that took place one year ago today, are very intense. It may be that I’m particularly sensitive – some might contend even oversensitive. On the other hand, my own experience as a Jew, and the history of my people, enable me – and indeed compel me - to consider things from a distinct perspective. The perspective of this Jew is a perspective of someone whose people has historically been not only targeted by unjustifiable attacks but also particularly vulnerable to their effects. Having personally witnessed various hostilities - including suicide bombing and Scud missile attacks - for which the contemporary Middle East has unfortunately become so notorious, I was able to clearly feel the distress of those who witnessed the September 11^th attacks. It was, despite its magnitude, an all-too-familiar feeling.

But the way in which the historic events of September 11^th impacted many ordinary people leaves me stunned with enormous concern. Actually, “Concern” might be – to borrow a phrase from one of my people’s greatest adversaries – “the mother of all” understatements. So I am grateful for the opportunity to share that perspective with you here, today.

As a Jew, this week is a particularly poignant time for reflecting on the events of September 11^th. This past weekend was Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, when we celebrate the creation of life and the genesis of humanity. And yet, at the same time, memories of the atrocities of September 11th remain vivid reminders of the destructive barbarism and vicious savagery of which some are capable. Not that anyone should need reminders in the form of those plumes of smoke that rose so high into the heavens that they could be seen from space, blazes that burned for weeks and weeks in a huge pit-full of debris from what was once a landmark of human achievement, or the surrealistic atmosphere of a city full of hospitals waiting on emergency stand-by for so many people who would never even make it to an ambulance. No, we shouldn’t any need such reminders.

In fact, for Jews it’s a sort of “Double 9-11” Remembrance as 30 years ago this week, 11 Israeli athletes were gunned down by terrorists at the 1972 Olympic games in Munich, Germany. At the time, that was an unprecedented act in international terror campaigns. Between September 1972 and September 2002, escalation of evil international terrorism has become more evident and proficient than any effective international actions to thwart it.

The Guardian newspaper this week excerpted a book by Harvard Law professor Alan Dershowitz, a criminal law specialist who says that “Recently, terrorism’s successes have been more visible than its failures, and the international community – diplomatic, religious, academic – has been selective in its condemnation of terrorists”.

One of the most striking and alarming aspects of the September 11^th attacks was the double-standard that emerged here at home, in what sometimes seemed to be dubious efforts to explain why the attacks occurred.

Many of these purported explanations sought to blame American and Israeli policies. But such contentions can only be a preposterous basis of explanation, for two reasons: firstly, there exist proper diplomatic and legal frameworks for resolving any grievances; and secondly, contending that US or Israeli policies can somehow be a ‘cause’ implies ‘reason’ which in turn connotes a justification - for which of course none can exist in reference to that particular attack.

Others sought to contend that poverty in some parts of the world was a motivating factor for the attacks. But as it happens, most of the September 11^th terrorists were from middle-class families and were educated.

Prior to September 11^th, I would have felt very confident about UK democratic public institutions, religious communities and the education sector as venues to which one can turn for reliable guidance, free debate and exchange of ideas, and a consistent application of rules and norms. Regrettably, the integrity of these three central facets of society has been tarnished by unsound double standards that have become increasingly evident in the past year. And as much as I hate to say it, such double standards increasingly reminded me of attitudes typical of parts of a different Europe - but perhaps indicative of a similar reluctance to speak out against perpetrators of atrocities – from some 50 years ago. Let me refer you to a few of many available examples from recent months:

In government and diplomatic circles, we can see instances such as that of the French ambassador who chose to make repugnantly undiplomatic references to Israel by using adjectives associated with human waste to describe the country. Indeed even the Foreign Minister has been seen to feel comfortable expressing “compassion” for suicide bombers, while appearing to render the homicidal crime – and its victims – secondary elements of concern.

Religious communities are experiencing an alarming wave of attacks on synagogues and other Jewish facilities in the UK, and throughout Europe. At Easter, a church in Scotland displayed an outdoor mural depicting a shocking image of two Israeli soldiers standing behind a dead Jesus. Of course, any image of suicide bombers or armed militants was not included.

And in the education sphere, we see the gradual revocation of academic freedom for Israeli academics. Numerous UK academics have signed on to a unilateral declaration of intention not to cooperate with Israeli colleagues, and barely skirting breaches of race relations legislation. And these academics were largely silent when a bomb recently killed several students at the multicultural Hebrew University of Jerusalem. An Oxford don recently described Americans who have settled in the West Bank as Nazis who “should be shot dead!”.

By reluctance to condemn perpetrators of unconscionable atrocities we as a society degrade the facets of our society that have achieved mechanisms, opportunities and forums for civilized conflict resolution. We must not allow violent intimidation of inhumane perpetrations to be rewarded by success. My hope – and I believe the only hope – for coexistence stems from faith in balanced approach, one without double standards. Impartiality, of course comes at a cost. And that is the price we pay for freedom. In the long run, however, that is quite a bargain compared to the alternatives. And it’s a bargain that we owe not only to ourselves and our friends, but to all those who are under oppressive regimes and have not had the opportunity or the privilege to live freely.