Although not publicly stated,  the criteria for winning the Nobel Peace Prize  seem to be a) who has denounced the United States most demonically; b) who has denounced Israel most demonically. 
 
Doing so indicates one's peacefulness, so from Jimmy Carter to Yasser Arafat, with rare lapses into worthiness such as Mother Teresa, recent Nobel Peace Prize winners have outshone themselves in stooping for this standard.  Oh occasionally a protest here, a complaint there over one obscure  prize winner or the other was whispered, only to be drowned out by the worldwide anti—American, anti—Israel approving chorus. 
 
But 11 years ago the Nobel Peace Prize committee really hit below rock bottom, awarding the prize to Yasser Arafat, a man who appeared in public at the United Nations with a gun, loudly promising that either he got his way eliminating Israel or he would use the gun.  And since the UN rather approved of him and his message, Arafat used guns plus other weapons in his arsenal  to slaughter thousands of citizens  of Israel. Obviously a man worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize.
 
ln the midst of this unbelievable shame,  a lonely individual bravely protested. To no avail. And so  Kaare Kristiansen, a member of the Nobel Peace Prize committee, resigned his post. But he never forgot the Nobel Peace Prize Committee's shame.

He more than once called upon the Nobel Peace Prize Committee to "publicly deplore" its 1994 decision to grant arch—terrorist Arafat the respected prize. In 1997, four years after the signing of the Oslo Agreement, he said that his "forebodings" about the diplomatic process had come true, citing Palestinian Authority corruption, its continued terrorism, and the Arab killings of compatriot land—dealers who sold land to Jews.

But of course Arafat, corrupt and murderous died with his Nobel Peace Prize along with his untold stolen billions, his people poverty—stricken and murderous, his evil continuing.
 
Kristiansen's voice was heard only by a few.  But this brave individual, who died on Sunday, must be remembered.
 
Ethel C. Fenig   12 05 05