Ha’aretz reported today that Israeli housing minister, Uri Ariel supported the government’s decision to announce the green light for 1500 new settlement homes in occupied territories in response to the formation of a Palestinian unity government. Apparently he called the decision “the proper Zionist response”.
Actually, the proper Zionist response would have been to remember that if Zionism is truly a movement for Jewish liberation and self-determination, then it must be in solidarity with all other peoples right to liberation and self-determination. If Zionism is truly for a safe and secure home, proper members of the Zionist movement would work to make that a reality for the Palestinian people who call this place home as well. A proper Zionist response would have been to openly and cautiously look for moments in which to break the conflict through dialogue and mutual responsibility. A real Zionist response would be to end the occupation, which has torn a hole in the national aspirations of the Jewish people.
A proper Zionist would look at the last century with immense pride for the accomplishments (drip irrigation and the revival of Hebrew to name two) of the collective project, and deep shame as well as the will to take responsibility for the terrible things (the ongoing occupation and the Nakba to name two) that this movement has created.
Zionism, a movement built on a vision in which the Jewish people have the right to collective self-determination, is a word that the Israeli government (indeed, a great many these days) uses to connote patriot to the government’s policies, expansion at all costs, and millions living under martial law.
No, the proper Zionist response to a Palestinian unity government would be to find the opportunity to build a just peace.
Nothing the Israeli government has done with regard to the Palestinian people has been within the bounds of a proper response. Period.
*Update from Ha’aretz: ”Netanyahu has decided to unfreeze planning processes for 1,800 [additional] housing units in the settlements that have been frozen the last three months.”
A. Daniel Roth is an educator and journalist living in South Tel Aviv. You can find more of his writing and photography at allthesedays.org and follow him on twitter @adanielroth.
This is a Guest Post by Edan Nissen, a graduate of Hashomer Hatzair Australia, now living in Israel. Edan has a BA from Monash University, Majoring in Politics and History of the Middle East with a Minor in Conflict Resolution.
A teacher stops a history classroom in the middle, the students are learning about the various tragedies of history. “Could all the students please stand up, we are going to have a minute of silence for the victims of the Nakba”. Most of the students stand is silence, thinking of the relatives that were affected, their homes destroyed and families that were forced to flee. Others had relatives that were killed. Two Students stand to the side, and during the silence they begin chatting. Their classmates are openly outraged, jaws are dropped but most students stand silently in their outrage. For these two students, it’s not that they don’t respect the loss of life, it’s that the tragedy of the Nakba is not relevant to them. They aren’t of Palestinian descent; they have their own national tragedies.
Shocked, aren’t you? This is a true story, well almost. The differences between this scenario and what actually happened are relatively minor. Swap the Nakba for the Holocaust, and the two boys for Israeli Palestinians and this scene has been played out several times, over several years and in several different locations. Yom Ha’Shoa, the day of remembrance for the Holocaust, was about a month ago and this happened again. I received a call from a friend who was in shock as two Arab students in her course spoke to each other while the nation- wide siren marking Yom Ha’Shoa rang out. The act was a mark of incredible disrespect for the loss of life, and destruction.
Israel’s equivalent of the ACLU, the Association for Civil Rights in Israel (ACRI) has just released a 10-minute documentary explaining life in East Jerusalem for Palestinians struggling for basic services from the Jerusalem municipality.
3 Houses was filmed in Ras Khamis and Ras Shahada, Jerusalem neighborhoods that were cut off from the rest of the city when the Separation Barrier was built in 2002. Since then, these neighborhoods and the tens of thousands of people who live there have been utterly neglected by the Jerusalem municipality. In 2013, the desperate situation in this no-man’s-land was even further exacerbated when the municipality announced its intent to demolish the homes of thousands of residents.
Learn more about the film, screenings, and ACRI’s advocacy for equal public services in East Jerusalem on their site.
This is a guest post by Rabbi Oren J. Hayon, the Greenstein Family Executive Director at the Hillel Foundation for Jewish Life at the University of Washington.
In his biography of Pyrrhus of Epirus, Plutarch recounts the details of the ancient Greek general’s costly victory against Rome at Asculum in 279 BCE. According to Plutarch’s account, shortly after the battle, Pyrrhus considered the devastating losses to his Macedonian troops and made the dark but prescient reflection: “If we were to be victorious in one more battle against the Romans, it would utterly destroy us.” [Life of Pyrrhus, 21:9]
The story of that long-ago battle comes to remind us that some victories produce a sense of exhilaration so intoxicating that they prevent us from realizing that we are actually marching unwittingly toward defeat. I write these lines in the immediate aftermath of a period in the life of our organization which looks unmistakably like a time of triumph. Nevertheless, as I write, I am keenly aware of how we have been diminished by the events of this year. I find myself surprised and concerned about how much we have lost, and about how much more we stand to lose in the future. More »
This is a guest post by Naomi Adland.
I started working at the Shalom Hartman Institute of North America in January as a graduate intern, tasked with helping the Jewish social justice world have meaningful conversations about Israel – a project that, at the time, sounded deceptively simple to me. I leapt at the chance to work with an organization I have long admired, with people who are smart, dedicated, and passionate about Judaism and the Jewish community, because I share the vision that Hartman outlined:
We believe that a state that is going to live up to its aspiration to be Jewish and democratic needs a base of American Jewish supporters committed to both of those values and eager to help Israel get there, and that the loss of the social justice community from the ranks of Zionist leaders will have profound ripple effects on the health of Israeli society.
The project seemed like the perfect fit for me, because the Venn diagram between organizations I have worked with or volunteered for and organizations that make up the Jewish Social Justice Roundtable is almost a perfect circle. I fight domestic poverty as a member of the AVODAH alumni community, and global injustices as a part of the AJWS community. I have worked to reform the Farm Bill and raise awareness about alternative transportation with Hazon, and as a teenager, the Religious Action Center helped me lobby Congress for the first time, setting me on a path that recently resulted in my graduation from the Wagner School of Public Service at NYU.
It’s possible that because of my connections with these organizations, I underestimated the challenge ahead of me. More »
Ta-Nehisi Coates has powerfully opened a conversation about reparations. Though not a new topic, it remains an explosive topic. Race is not a subject that is ignored in American discourse. As John McWhorter points out at the Daily Beast, race has not been absent from the stage of American cultural conversation. Think of Trayvon Martin, Paula Deen, Cliven Bundy, and Donald Sterling. Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow—a book which made the argument that the justice system (sentencing laws, incarceration, and the aftermath) has developed into a new system of control of black men—was on the New York Times bestseller list for more than a year. Americans have not been ignoring race.
However, what is importantly disturbing about Ta-Nehisi Coates’ argument, what will continue to be disturbing, is that Americans are still talking, or screaming about race as a passing phenomenon, a problem that will be solved. The Supreme Court almost said as much as it gutted the Voting Rights Act and declared affirmative action unconstitutional. Coates’ argument is that reparations is not just about slavery, and the economic and psychological impacts of slavery, and the economic legacy of slavery in the guise of the housing scams in Chicago. Coates’ is not advocating a wholesale payout on the order of German reparations for the Holocaust. What Coates’ is arguing for is that we must come to terms with the fact that the United States was built on slavery. Slavery was the wealth—both the bodies of the slaves and the slaves as means of production—that enabled this country to come into being. Furthermore, the history of the United States after the Civil War continued to be inextricably tied to the oppression of African-Americans. We cannot tell the story of this country without telling it within a narrative of slavery. The colonists, the founding fathers, the writers of the Constitution, and the writer of the Gettysburg address, all lived in a slave culture. FDR’s New Deal made way for compromises with the South on farmworkers and domestic workers so as to protect the “Southern way of life.”
This is what truly upsets those who are upset. What is truly upsetting, angering, is that the “peculiar institution,” as slavery was euphemistically called, was not an anomaly like, perhaps, the suspension of habeas corpus during the Civil War, or the House Unamerican Activities Committee under Joe McCarthy, from which the United States recovered, returning to its better angels. Slavery was, and will continue to be part of the warp and woof of this country’s story. This is the conversation that we must have. Until we have that conversation, the unfinished business of the peculiar institution will return in the guise of a “war on drugs” or disparities in educational allocations, or the criminalization of every day life for young black men.
There is a clear case made for reparations for American Slavery laid out in the recent Atlantic feature authored by Ta-Nehisi Coates. It is a powerful story, a dangerous history, and a gateway to talk about the most complicated issues facing the United States. Once you read this very long piece (very long but read it) and nod to the facts and shake your head at the horrific racism at all levels most likely, most probably, you will think:
- But my family didn’t live in the U.S. when it engaged in slavery.
- But we never lived in the Jim Crow South.
- But I don’t engage in predatory lending schemes.
- But no one I know sold on contract in Chicago.
But that doesn’t matter. Anyone living in the United States benefits from the economic realities built on slavery. Every white person has been enriched by the segregation of neighborhoods, schools, and Federally insured lending practices. This goes well beyond being afraid anytime the police stop you or having people cross to the other side of the street when you pass at night.
There is no way money is the remedy for the past but it is time to talk about this issue seriously. So now after you actually read the piece and not my quick intro you should consider addressing those “buts” again. Now ask, how do you feel about your families and friends receiving reparations from Germany?
Personally, I feel pretty damn good about it.
This is a guest post by Sarah Imhoff, Assistant Professor of Jewish Studies and Religious Studies at Indiana University, Bloomington.
In a whirlwind day of traveling this week, I’ve been in the United States, Turkey, and Israel. On the train in New Jersey, I noticed one house where American flags sprouted on the porch like rows of overgrown plants fighting for the sun. In Turkey, I got stuck walking on the sidewalk behind this vendor:
Turkish flag vendor
And because of the snail’s pace line for passport control at Ben Gurion airport, I stared at up an enormous wall painting of an Israeli flag for two hours. While there is plenty to say about the comparative politics of patriotism, I thought about social interactions of church and state. As a scholar of religion, I seem to see it everywhere.
These three nations—the US, Turkey, and Israel—have three very different articulations of the relationship between “church” and state. The United States has constitutional commitment to freedom of religious expression, and simultaneously refusal of federal establishment of religion. Turkey has a different sort of separation: its laicite, a style of secularism most frequently associated with France, excludes religious practice and discourse from the space of government. And Israel is a Jewish state. And each of these arrangements turns out to be far more complicated and contested than a single sentence about it can suggest.
As this month’s SCOTUS ruling on Town of Greece v. Galloway. reminded us, there is a long tradition of legislative prayer practice in the United States. Were the people of the town of Greece, NY allowed to start their meetings with a prayer, as long as they didn’t intentionally exclude any religions? The court ruled 5-4 that the town wasn’t violating the constitution with its prayer, but the justices on both sides of the issue offered locally based reasoning in their decisions. The most affecting moment of Elana Kagan’s dissent was her hypothetical story about a Muslim woman coming to the town council to ask for a building permit. Wouldn’t she feel coerced into municipally-sanctioned Christianity when the chaplain opened the meeting and said “Let us pray”? In his opinion holding for Greece, Clarence Thomas explained that he thinks the establishment clause pertains only to the federal government, and so wouldn’t necessarily or automatically apply to states, or a town such as Greece. Both justices, despite their vastly different takes, appealed to local context to explain their legal reasoning about religion.
In Turkey, unlike the United States or the town of Greece, religious expression in government spaces is disallowed. For instance, police, judges, and members of the armed forces aren’t allowed to wear headscarves, even though the country is nearly 99% Muslim. Laicite means individual religious practice and signs are excluded from government representation. Last October in Turkey, four women Members of Parliament began to wear headscarves in Parliament for the first time in nearly 15 years—and even in 1999, Merve Kavakci, the MP who wore the headscarf, was booed out of the chamber. The political changes that allowed the headscarves last year turned heads of those committed to the story of a secular Turkey. Supporters of Turkey’s laicite would have balked at seeing the Town of Greece ruling. They would have seen it as entirely too permissive of the mixing of religious practice and government. But in the central spot of Istanbul tourism, I stood between two historic and iconic religious buildings Blue Mosque (the Sultan Ahmed Mosque) and the cathedral-turned-mosque-turned-museum Hagia Sofia, where I listened to the Friday afternoon call to prayer as it alternated between two loudspeakers.
In Israel, I heard very little. This, too, was a religiously inflected noise: it was Shabbat. Though I was in Tel Aviv, a city not known for its religious piety, most of the neighborhood shops were quiet. Here you might notice that it was a state with many Jews, but you might not know it is a Jewish state. Prayers intermingle with speeches in the Knesset, most recently and powerfully exemplified in MK Ruth Calderon’s first Knesset speech last year—and she is a member of a very progressive political party. The Knesset has 120 members because Jewish tradition holds that the “men of the great assembly” numbered 120. The Knesset routinely legislates about matters of religious practice, contains men and women who dress and behave according to religious norms, and hears religiously based arguments.
National church-state arrangements and the sorts of religion expressed and allowed in legislative bodies clearly structure religious lives in the nation. But the two nations with ostensibly secular governments–the US and Turkey–have much higher percentages of religious believers than Israel, a country with an official religion. So knowing what these political arrangements of religion are at the national level isn’t nearly enough for us to predict what expressions of religion look like in the streets. Today, I wonder, if all politics is local, maybe all religion is too.
It’s been almost a year since I started working at the Jewish Women’s Archive. I started off as a summer intern, working with almost everyone in the office at least once and learning the ropes of the organization. After a couple months, I was offered a part-time position as the Education Program Assistant, and I worked almost exclusively with the Education team. And now, I’m proud to say that I have been a full-time staff person at JWA for almost six months. And in the time that I’ve been here, a lot of exciting changes have been underway.
For the past eighteen years, Founding Executive Director Gail Twersky Reimer has been our fearless leader. It was her vision of an online resource all about Jewish women that has brought us here, and her dedication and passion have kept the organization alive and the website running. And now, after eighteen loyal years, Gail will be retiring and passing the torch to a new Executive Director.
About three weeks ago, many of JWA’s friends, supporters, and a contingency of its staff gathered at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York to celebrate Gail’s legacy. A colleague and I stood at the entrance to the museum welcoming the guests and pointing them towards the reception upstairs. As someone who has been working in the Jewish non-profit world for over two years and who has steeped herself in Jewish and feminist academia for most of her life, I was thrilled to have this job. We greeted artists, writers, teachers, board members, and so many more people that it was absolutely dizzying. The number of people who walked in who I admired and respected was insurmountable, and I found myself practically quivering with excitement the whole evening.
The air in the reception hall was electric, to say the least. What made the event so special was not just that everyone was there to celebrate Gail and the Jewish Women’s Archive. But everyone had so many other connections as well. People who had worked together, studied together, grew up together, all converged in this event. When describing the event later to my roommate, she said thoughtfully, “The Jewish community is really small, isn’t it?” And while the hall was filled with friends, supporters, and family of Gail T. Reimer and JWA, I couldn’t help but notice how everybody was connected in so many different ways that evening, making the Jewish community a most intimate and loving one.
If you’re in Jerusalem on Sunday, June 1, check out The Good Mother Myth editor Avital Norman Nathman & contributor Sarah Tuttle-Singer at the Jerusalem Press Club for great conversations and readings!
Directions and more on the event’s Facebook page.
So there’s this piece in Ha’aretz right now that is apparently about Ayelet Shaked and how she’s a deplorable human, but then there’s this opening paragraph that is kind of a problem:
“She first appeared as a curiosity – a young and pretty secular woman from an upscale north Tel Aviv neighborhood, a fresh and well-educated Zionist who found a warm Jewish home — to borrow from her party’s name, Habayit Hayehudi. She doesn’t resemble extremist figures from the past like Meir Kahane and Moshe Levinger, or former MK Michael Ben-Ari. She’s much more attractive and elegant than the caricatures of crazed right-wingers with their bushy beards, skullcaps askew and Uzis dangling from their shoulders.” (emphasis mine)
I just did a search of Ayelet Shaked on Google, and one of the first suggestions that comes up is “Ayelet Shaked hot.” (Thanks, Internet.) Look, I understand the mystery here. How can an attractive woman have politics that are repugnant? Isn’t that behavior that’s reserved for ugly women? Aren’t pretty women just supposed to be pretty?
Ravit Hecht’s lede is that Shaked doesn’t look like the dudes with repugnant politics who have proceeded her in the Knesset, hang out on hilltops, etc. That’s not actually what the rest of the piece is about, and it’s a cheap way in. It doesn’t matter if she’s attractive. (I can’t believe I even have to type that.) It’s not even a little bit relevant and it’s sexist. Apparently, there’s no way to talk about a female politician without mentioning how she looks, and this is true on the Right AND the Left, in US politics as well. Hillary Clinton is one obvious example, but when Illinois GOP candidate Susanne Atanus said that God put tornadoes and autism on earth because of the homosexuals, the comment threads exploded with references to her physical appearance. (I know, I know, never read the comments.) There’s an unfortunate and repetitive trend here, and it’s sad, really, how easy it is to not perpetuate the sexism in this case, but since it’s sold as not only relevant, but newsworthy, lede worthy, we keep it up. CUT IT OUT, humans. I know you can do better.
P.S. Also, read this. And stop it.
Nearly all of the issues I raised in my 2011 post, “The Price of Jew$chool,” which lamented the state of Jewish Day School tuition and the weaknesses of its alternatives in formal Jewish education, unfortunately remain quite relevant today. Then again, statements such as the 25-year-old Greek Chief-Rabbi elect‘s recent reflection that the internet was his Jewish education, stand as sobering reminders that beyond the U.S. and Israel, Jewish education, even in its most modest forms, is a scare resource. According the 2013 Pew Report Forum findings on Jewish life in America, 23% of Jews report having attended Jewish Day School or yeshiva in their youth, and nearly 60% have attended some other form of (non-Day School) formal Jewish education. What does the future hold? How can we respond to this continuing crisis?
The Price of Jew$school
Before you panic, rest assured: we’re not about to start charging you when you read more than 20 posts per month. No, we’re talking about the ever-skyrocketing expense of sending children to Jewish day school in the U.S.
With $7,000 you might be able to fly back and forth to Israel six times, but for the same price you could stay put in Overland Park KS and learn at the Hyman Brand Hebrew Academy for one year. One thousand dollars more will buy you—show them what they’ve won—one year of 1-8th grade education at the Cincinnati Hebrew Day School. If you want to send your child to the Solomon Schechter of Atlanta, be prepared to shell out upwards of $17,000 per year starting with first grade. $26,650 might be a fine price for a Toyota RAV4 Sport, but did you know that for the same price, you can ‘kaneh likha rav’—or maybe even four—and enroll for one year of high school at the Jack M. Barrack Hebrew Academy in Bryn Mawr, PA? $29, 955 would be a steal for a small, foreclosed apartment in a depressed real estate market, but it could also buy you one year’s education at Milken community high school in LA. These numbers don’t even include the usual “give and get” $1,000+ minimums typically imposed upon day school families on a yearly basis. More »
An evening of conversation & connection on Israel & Social Justice
May 28, 2014, 7-10 PM
Public Works, 161 Erie St , San Francisco
Space is limited, 21 and over
Share your story. Leave the boxing gloves at home.
Love, Hate, and the Jewish State is a civil dialogue for Jews in our 20s and 30s to share our personal experiences about Israel and social justice. We are creating a space where authentic discourse and diverse opinions are welcome. You get to own the discussion.
The Program: Love Hate 3.0
Our goal is to create meaningful interactions around Israel and social justice. To achieve this, we will provide exercises to help you talk, listen, and ask questions. NIF’s trained Facilitation Fellows will support this process, helping us foster community without shying away from differences.
Following this evening, New Generations will convene follow-up dialogue groups that will transform our event into a series of conversations for deeper exploration of the relationship between social justice and Israel.
This is a guest post by “Jacob Wake Up!”. Based in Boston, Jake works in higher ed marketing, plays music, and is planning his wedding. He has previously held positions in Jewish nonprofit and the music industry. He also blogs at jacobwakeup.com and bostonska.net.
I am proud to say that I am an alumnus of AEPi. Just as my brothers let me know when I was screwing up, I’d like to let AEPi, the national organization, that they screwed up. I’ll start with a story:
I’ll never forget one evening in my senior year at UConn when I was relaxing in my fraternity house room and a handful of my brothers walked in together. They had serious looks on their faces; concerned but not quite angry. They told me they wanted to talk. It became very clear that this was an intervention of sorts. The worst crossed my mind: Did I have too much to drink at the last party? Did I say things I shouldn’t have to a young woman? Did I behave in a way that was unbecoming of a brother of my fraternity? Thankfully, it wasn’t so bad. I had decided somewhere along the way that it would be a good idea to grow out a goatee–the kind without a mustache, because I can’t grow one. I’m of a light complexion with dirty blonde hair, so it made me look how you might say “trashy.” While I hadn’t quite figured out my “style” (punk rock? student in sweats? ramah shacharit in pajamas?), it was conclusive that the goatee was not part of it. I was aiming for cool and I missed by lightyears. They were the ones to tell me, not any of my other friends. Brothers look out for you, tell you things you might not want to hear, and let you know when you’re screwing up. And I was grateful to be called out.
Last week, I was very upset to learn, that in a recent vote on whether or not to include JStreet in the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Presidents, AEPi voted not to include Jstreet, according to a report in the Forward. This was wrong, small-minded, poor public relations practice, and above all, it was unbrotherly. More »
This just in from a Jesse Bacon, concerned parent of a child at Perelman Jewish Day School in Philadelphia:
Perelman Jewish Day School teachers have been unionized for nearly four decades. Suddenly in March the schools board of directors withdrew recognition of the teachers’ union. The school took unilateral action to bust their teachers’ union, as the Hobby Lobby case was being heard in DC and on the eve of the anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist fire and while Philly’s teachers’ union is also under attack.
Fortunately, the union is fighting back, but there is a lot of fear and demonstrating broad community support, from Jewish folks, from people with a tie to the school, and from people who care about education. The school is hiding behind a religious exemption while claiming that Jewish law on respecting labor doesn’t apply.
I’ve been involved in similar efforts at my alma mater, Seattle University, in urging the administration that their religiously-rooted passion for social justice is at odds with their claims that their religious status also exempts the university from union requirements. Luckily, the courts threw their case out on its merits. Treating teachers fairly is just as part of religion and social justice as the rest.
Donald “I am not a racist” Sterling gave an interview to Anderson Cooper on CNN last night and boy it was just a beautiful example of Asshatery.
“Jews when they get successful, they will help their people, and some of the African Americans – maybe I’ll get in trouble again – they don’t want to help anybody.” – Sterling.
Simply this guy is just horrible. He needs to stop talking and go away. I am ashamed to have him as member of the tribe and hope he fades into obscurity.
However, he isn’t alone. We all know that and won’t talk about it. More »
This is a guest post by Shani Ben Or, the Community Coordinator for Kol HaNeshama, Jerusalem’s flagship congregation of the Reform Movement, where she also serves as a cantor, studies Critical, Feminist Pedagogy at the Kibbutzim College, and is a fellow in the inaugural Jerusalem cohort of the Takum social justice beit midrash. Translated from the Hebrew by Aryeh Bernstein.
A few years ago, I volunteered in a youth center for teens at risk in south Tel Aviv. The constituency served by the center represented the sectors most oppressed and discriminated against by Israeli society. In many respects, this encounter was life-changing for me, but was also wound up with numerous challenges, among the most significant of which related to gender. Every week, I was greeted with comments about my appearance, my beauty, and my body. I received countless “offers”, of varying degrees of obscenity. It was clear to me that these teenage boys were testing my boundaries in a smart and sophisticated way. When push came to shove, they touched on my greatest place of vulnerability with regard to them. In every other way, the power hierarchy in this youth center was clear and priviliged me: I was a volunteer and they were the troubled youth being mentored and counseled. The power hierarchy in Israeli society was just as clear and to my privilege: I am an Ashkenazic Jew in Israel from an American background. However, in one respect, the power relationship privileged them and put them in a position of power over me: I am a woman and they are men. They tipped the scales of the power balance to assert some power over a person who in many ways has power over them, and it worked: as a woman, with my own experiences of gender oppression, I was affected by their actions. They succeeded. More »
Washington, D.C. – May 11th, 2014 – Following pressure from the Open Hillel campaign, Hillel International President and CEO Eric Fingerhut announced that Hillel will create an “Israel Strategy Committee” as well as a Student Cabinet. The Israel Strategy Committee will convene students and Hillel professionals to make recommendations on improving programing on Israel-Palestine, while the Student Cabinet will represent general student concerns in Hillel International. The Open Hillel campaign responded to these announcements with two statements commending Hillel International for these changes and urging Hillel to ensure that these bodies are more than just token gestures to students. More »