[Paul is a Facebook friend. I’ve never met the man, although I have heard him play the guitar more than once. He’s as good as it gets at least on this instrument, in this state.
He posts excellent stories about music and musicians. This one, however, has nothing to do with music. Rather it concerns religion and politics, two subjects that we avoid here in The Jungle. I’ve made an exception for this, because it contains so much rich, historical lore and clear perspective. It sheds much needed light on a situation that has been shrouded in dust and confusion for my entire life. Thanks for writing this, Paul and allowing us to re-publish it in Silverback Digest. SB SM]
by Paul Asbell
The Haggadah— like the highly curated book which Christians call the New Testament, and most people call “The Bible” — is a compilation of Jewish writings over the last 2 millennia. If you’ve ever attended a Passover seder, then you’ve read from some form of Haggadah. But that said, the Haggadah is kinda like the recipe for Tzimmis, blintzes or Noodle Kugel— there are many different versions, variations and political slants, according to the traditions and tastes of the family doing the cooking.
In April, 1967, I was sitting with other members of my extended family at the Passover Seder table of my uncle Julie. As was customary after the initial blessings, and the ritual hiding of the afikoman matzoh, a child was assigned to read from the Magid— the story of the liberation of the Jewish people from bondage in Egypt. For this seder, Julie’s daughter Barbara, who was nearing the end of her freshman year at the University of Wisconsin, had volunteered to do the reading. Since our family had chosen a Hagaddah in keeping with our relatively liberal beliefs, the text for the reading was this…
“This year we are slaves. What can these words mean?
We are slaves because yesterday our people were in slavery, and memory makes yesterday real for us.
We are slaves because today there are still people in chains around the world and no one can be truly free while others are in chains.
Where there is poverty and hunger and homelessness, there is no freedom; where there is prejudice and bigotry and discrimination, there is no freedom; where there is violence and torture and war, there is no freedom. And when each of us is less than he or she might be, we are not free, not yet.
And who, this year, can be deaf to the continuing oppression of the downtrodden? Who can be blind to the burdens and the rigors that are now to be added to the most vulnerable in our midst?
If these things be so, who among us can say that he or she is truly free?”
At the end of this reading, cousin Barbara added her own personal postscript… “…and since no one can be truly free while others are in chains, we Jews cannot be free until the people of Palestine are as free to live in their homeland as our Jewish brothers and sisters.”
With that, my uncle Leo— who was a regular volunteer in the Israeli Defense Force— slapped the table and angrily muttered “I don’t have to listen to this at the Passover table”.
At which point, a verbal brouhaha began, which lasted several minutes… until our generally even-tempered host Julie shot his eldest daughter a caustic look, and warned that as long as his brother-in-law Leo was under his roof, he would not abide any further remarks which would be offensive to him.
For many Jewish families, Passover can be “Jewish Thanksgiving”. But unlike Thanksgiving, the “reason for the season” itself often represents a divisive “Rorschach Test”— one that adds a FIFTH Question to the Four Questions of the Passover seder…
“What does it mean to be Jewish?”
And, perhaps, a SIXTH Question… “Does being Jewish mean that one must be a supporter of Israel, and it’s policies?”
————————————————–
A few years back, I had a FB exchange with a Jewish friend in reference to Ben & Jerry’s, and their decision to discontinue selling their ice cream to stores in West Bank settlements. I mentioned in an explanatory remark that— like Ben & Jerry themselves— I was Jewish but “somewhat anti-Zionist”.
My friend posted me back-channel, in order to continue the exchange off-line. His first sentence was “Paul, being somewhat anti-Zionist is sort of like being somewhat pregnant. Either you are or your not.”
His ignorant comment, while annoying, provided an opportunity to do a dive into the meaning of the term “Zionism”. Within 15 seconds, Wikipedia and several other sources provided me with what I suspected… that “Zionism does not have a uniform ideology, but has evolved in a dialogue among a plethora of ideologies: General Zionism, Religious Zionism, Labor Zionism, Revisionist Zionism, Green Zionism, etc.”
And further, that the “dialogue” among the plethora of ideologies referenced was robust, long-standing, and often bitter—giving rise to proponents of theories and advocacies which are VERY much at odds with each other.
So… no. Not AT ALL like being pregnant.
The conversation moved to a discussion of BDS, and similar initiatives and movements. My friend contended that the BDS movement was “just a way to avoid being labeled anti-Semitic”, and that “people are using this code word to mask their real feelings.” I pointed out that many of my Jewish friends resonated with the ideas within the BDS movement… and that in fact, I myself share the belief that the US should consider using its massive financial support of the Israel military as a carrot/stick cudgel to exact more democratic, less theocratic and apartheid-like policies regarding the West Bank settlements, two-state solution, a Palestinian homeland within the present Israel borders, etc.
So… do the policy beliefs of my Jewish friends and I make us “anti-Semitic”?
Which leads to a SEVENTH question for our modern-day Haggadah… “Can one be a Jew and also anti-Semitic?”
————————————————–
My first trip to Europe occurred in 1980, on a honeymoon visit to in-laws who were Communist Party figures in East Berlin. I well remember many conversations regarding various American policies— many of which I fervently disagreed with myself.
Ernst and Annaliese were careful not to give overt offense to their newly-wed guests… but the implication was clear. We were representatives of a nation that they would never visit, or have future communication with… so, we were going to get an earful.
Those conversations were my first encounter with an aspect of human nature which I had previously given little thought to— the knee-jerk assumption that a citizen of another country could be viewed as at least partially responsible for the policy stances of their government.
Subsequent trips to Europe resulted in similar encounters. My trip to France and Italy in 2001 occasionally involved seemingly unnecessary reminders to strangers that more than 50% of my countrymen (myself included) voted for Al Gore over George W Bush. And that— yes— I too was extremely disappointed and in fact embarrassed that W was the head of the country I called my own.
In most cases, that brought the inquisition of the American representative to a halt. But occasionally, the grilling went further.
“Well, if you really disagree with your government’s policy on (fill in the blank here), then why do you still live there? Shouldn’t you LEAVE?”
Leading to an EIGHTH question for us all to ponder… “How responsible are each of us for the actions and policies of the country we are citizens of?”
————————————————–
What exactly SHOULD happen in the area of the planet once called “Palestine”, and which is now called “Israel”? And what should our country’s actions and policies in the region actually BE?
How can the present paradigm of righteous blood-feud give way to a spirit of conciliation? Are Rodney King’s famous words hopelessly obsolete, now that intifadas and resistance has turned into declaration of war?
How should we support the legitimate aspirations of millions of people whose families called Palestine their home, before the Balfour Declaration of 1917?
How should we support the longing of millions of Jews— whose ancestors have been persecuted and murdered in so many places that fate has placed them in— for a safe home in the world?
In keeping with the tradition of my ancestors’ Talmudic ruminations, I’ve got many more questions than answers for these questions. But I DO have some thoughts…
I couldn’t help but notice that the 24 hostages released at the Rafah checkpoint in southern Gaza this afternoon will receive special noise-cancelling headphones that were bought especially for their trip home. The IDF indicated that the headphones “are intended for children, in order to make the flight experience easier, and provide them with peace and quiet”
Which sounds like an extremely considerate move on their part.
However, for the rest of us— those of us lucky enough to sleep in warm beds and enjoy the company of friends and family, instead of trembling in anxiety and fear for 45 days in an enemy tunnel— I’d propose that noise-cancelling headphones are the LAST thing we need to be wearing.
We who identify as Jews need to do a bit less reflexive Israeli flagwaving, and a lot more listening to Al Jazeera, and other Palestinian voices. Painful, noisy and confusing as that might be at times.
That Israeli flag being reflexively waved is NOT a universal sign of fellowship for those of “the tribe”… our Lanzmann. It is the flag of a country who is presently violating international norms and UN laws in order to put down a terrorist threat— and arguably committing genocide in the process.
If the shoe were on a different foot, in a different part of the globe, I suspect many of those Israeli flag-wavers would have a far harder time justifying the measures Netanyahu’s government has taken in its attempts to “resolve” the Hamas issue.
Sorry, but no. Israel is NOT “the homeland of the Jews”. And expressing criticism of Israel’s actions is NOT being anti-semitic. ADL, AIPAC, and other Jewish voices are completely wrong on this, and need to be told so. NOISILY, if necessary.
And to those who have recently— and passionately— taken up the cause of the Palestinian people… I say, “good on ya”. Oppressed people everywhere need and deserve advocates. Especially in the strongest, richest, and most influential nation on the planet.
That said. As in many public debates, the loudest voices are the ones who have the least information and perspective on the wrenchingly complicated history of the region, and the national forces at play in creating the tensions we now see laid bare.
For those who loudly chant “From the River to the Sea”, based on things you’ve recently heard from friends… please educate yourselves. There are NO white hats in this horrible mess. And the fact that Hamas uses public relations devices to enlist world sympathy doesn’t undo the fact that they’re a brutal, authoritarian, theocratic doomsday cult— one that uses the very people they claim to be fighting on behalf of as human shields for their fanatical mission.
Sorry, but no. Hamas is NOT the same as the Palestinian people. And renouncing Hamas’ loathsome Oct 7 brutality and their language towards Jews is NOT being “anti-Palestinian”. In fact, it is necessary to do so— LOUDLY— in order to achieve the larger goal of highlighting legitimate grievances of everyday Palestinians for the world to see.
————————————————–
“…and since no one can be truly free while others are in chains, we Jews cannot be free until the people of Palestine are as free to live in their homeland as our Jewish brothers and sisters.”
Cousin Barbara had it right, 55 years ago. Sadly, we’re farther from that lofty goal than we’ve ever been.