Zionism in a Flat World

In addition to its laid back atmosphere and proximity to the beach, one of the advantages of living in Tel Aviv is the ability to miss the chaos caused by the visit of the President of the United States who strode into town for his second visit in half a year, taking part in the President's 'Tomorrow Conference' and giving a rousing address at the Knesset.

Bush's speech was followed by PM Olmert discussing his plans for a two state solution. In response, one right wing MK quipped that he wished Olmert would learn about Zionism from Bush. A senior Likud MK meanwhile described Bush as 'manifesting' the Zionist vision.

Of slightly less global importance, but noteworthy nonetheless, was our goodbye party at work for my colleague Yonatan Adiri.

Extremely smart, sharp and capable, Yonatan led a discussion on Thomas Friedman's The World is Flat – which argues that the technological and geo-strategic 'advances' in recent years have leveled the professional playing field, enhanced the role of the individual and started processes in which everyone will be racing to the top (even if you're one in a million, there's still approximately 1,000 Chinese just like you). This week, Friedman is a guest speaker at Reut's Conference on the ISRAEL 15 Vision – how to turn Israel into one of the leading 15 countries in the world in terms of quality of life.

Friedman's flat world offers little security. 'When I was growing up,' he says, 'my parents told me "Finish your dinner. People in China and India are starving." Now I tell my daughters, "Finish your homework. People in China and India are starving for your job."

He concludes that only 'agile' and 'flexible' individuals (as well as communities and countries) can stay relevant in such a world.

In his speech to the Tomorrow Conference, Amos Oz discussed the different aspects of traditional Zionism explaining that "Israel was born not out of one but many dreams, including several conflicting, contradicting and mutually exclusive dreams…

Some wanted to renew the days of old, the biblical country, a replica of kingdom of David;

Others wanted to create a middle class paradise, with central European manners and peace and quiet between 2 and 4 in the afternoon;

Some wished for a replica of Jewish Shtetl in Eastern Europe with all its attributes while others were Marxist Jews who dreamed Stalin would one day visit their Kibbutz and exclaim "bloody Jews! You have done socialism better than we did in Russia" and then die of happiness.

Others meanwhile, saw Zionism through the prism of creating a social democratic welfare state.'

Whether we like it or not, both Olmert's and Bush's speeches - one about rights, the other about reality - come under the umbrella of what has become Zionism.

It's not surprising that few of us are completely satisfied with how the Zionist dream has become a living, breathing reality - the nature of (conflicting) dreams is to remain unachievable in their entirety.

Yet the real challenge of tomorrow is how to turn Zionism's diversity (the competing visions of a cultural center, safe haven or light unto the nations as well as the competing values of land, democracy and civil rights, Jewish law, social justice and ingathering of exiles) into a 'creatively agile' entity that can face Friedman's flat world with confidence, and turn itself into one of the leading 15 countries in the world.

How we do this is another question; but maintaining a rigid definition of 'true Zionism' as being reduced to one aspect is not only doing a disservice to the traditional ideological mosaic but is also likely to undermine our ability to survive in what is becoming a very dangerous constantly changing world.

Yom Hashoah: Remembering Death Celebrating Life

The first time I watched 'The Pianist' was in a cinema in Warsaw during the 10 days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur in 2002. Together with other students from Leeds Jewish society I was taking part in what has in many ways become our generation's rite of passage – the trip to Poland’s concentration camps.

We did the usual itinerary – trips to the quiet fields of Treblinka, (where I perhaps inappropriately felt that if one didn’t know the place's history, it would make a good picnic spot) the barracks of Majdanek (which are eerily like a film set), and of course Auschwitz, the symbol of humanity's capacity for evil, the place that forever changed our imaginative framework for what depths people are capable of.

Yet rather than focusing on death, we also explored Jewish life before the war. It still amazes me how dynamic the Jewish Polish experience actually was – that in addition to those learning Torah, the country was filled with Jewish poets, writers, artists and philosophers…all integrated into society, four cities the equivalent of today’s New York…and all destroyed in the space of a few years.

There were of course the obvious questions - of how God could let such a thing happen; of how man could let such a thing happen. And the less obvious - of whether I would have survived in the camps, or whether if I was a non Jewish Pole I would have risked my family's life to save a neighbor (is it just me or does everyone imagine these scenarios?)

But the overall feeling was one of pride - that despite it all we're still here, still standing. Like Eli Wiesel’s portrayal of the prototypal biblical ‘survivor’ Isaac, those that came out of the death camps picked themselves up and build new lives, brought children into the world, moved out of Hannah Arendt's 'worldlessness' and re-entered history. Most refused to let fate embitter them. How amazing to be part of such a people.

The second time I watched ‘The Pianist’ was last Wednesday night, in my Tel Aviv flat, as the first Hebrew city in nearly two thousand years marked Holocaust Memorial Day. There’s a lot that needs fixing in this country. The political culture, the education system, the fact that many find it difficult to articulate a vision of what sort of state we want to build here...We haven't yet created a cultural and spiritual utopia a la Achad Ha’am while the daily sirens around Sderot remind us we’re a long way from a Herzelian safe haven. Surrounded by the hustle and bustle of daily life, it's often difficult to make out the wood from the trees, hear the 'still short voice' through the noise of scandals and strikes.

Yet every once in a while, as the siren we hear indicates the past rather than a sometimes frightening present, its worthwhile using the silence to remember a time when we didn’t have the strongest army in the region, or a first world economy, or a place to call our own.

And be appreciative and proud of a place those 6 million could only dream of.

Pesach Thoughts 5768: Four Sons and the Conflict

The Hagaddah speaks of 4 sons - wise, wicked, simple and one unable to ask. Over the generations, this theme was expanded…four different Jews, four generations, four characteristics present in each one of us.

In this context, here is a reading based on different Zionist approaches to the Israeli – Palestinian conflict.

The ‘Redemptionist Child’ – what does he say? The whole of the historical land of Israel belongs to the Jewish people and talk about ‘peace’ with the Arabs is dangerous utopianism. The world has an implacable hatred towards us and nothing we can do will change that. The international community may show sympathy when we are weak but it can’t stomach the resurgence of Jewish sovereignty and power to its ancestral homeland. Even when we endanger our own soldiers so as not to hurt Palestinian civilians we are accused of carrying out massacres and genocide.

Whether we like to admit it or not, Jews will always be a ‘people that dwells alone’ and concessions in order to gain favour with the Arabs or ‘Goyim’ makes us look spineless and imperils more Jewish lives.

Things may look bleak but redemption is within reach. We need to have faith, be steadfast and unify the people around true Torah values, one of which is settling and taking ownership over all the land of Eretz Yisrael.

The ‘Realist’ Child - what does he say? Peace with the Palestinians may be possible, but not in this generation. At the Palestinians’ core - their public statements, television programs, textbooks - they don’t accept the right of the Jewish people to live in a state of our own.

Each withdrawal is not perceived as a sign of our peaceful intentions but as weakness and capitulation, evidence that we’re no longer willing to fight and struggle for the justice of our cause. We withdrew from Lebanon and Gaza and got rockets in response. How can we consider a similar withdrawal from the West Bank?

We need to cause the Palestinians to internalise the fact that we’re here to stay, that we have roots in this land, that we’re not leaving. We can ultimately achieve peace, but it will take time, and we need to be patient. In the meantime we need to sit tight, and continue to fight. It sounds fatalistic but with the correct education, Israeli society has the capacity to survive the storm.

The ‘Pragmatic’ child – what does he say? I’m not necessarily a fan of the Palestinians, but Israel’s continued control over the West Bank is bad for our national security. ‘Occupation’ causes our friends to desert us, demography erodes the chances for the two state solution and isolated settlements actually make it harder to defend ourselves against terrorism. We think our control strengthens us. Yet ultimately it weakens us.

The forces of religious extremism are on the rise. And unless we resolve our differences with those Palestinians who accept the two state solution, the window of opportunity for a secure Jewish and democratic state may close.

Peace doesn’t mean we’ll eat hummus in Damascus and Ramallah or stop calling up people to Miluim. But in an unstable neighbourhood in unstable times, an agreement that ensures a Jewish majority in approximately 80% of Mandatory Palestine while guaranteeing normalization with the Arab world is worth considering, even if it entails painful concessions.

It is after all, a situation that original Zionist leaders could only dream of.

The ‘Justice’ child – what does he say? The continued occupation over millions of Palestinians is poisoning and corrupting Israeli society, undermining our social fabric and is a betrayal of the core values of Judaism (and Zionism).

The Israeli – Palestinian conflict is a tragic struggle of right against right – with both sides having legitimate claims and grievances on the other. As a people, the Jews deserve the right to self determination, to express our national values and dreams…but so do the Palestinians. While we have religious, historical and cultural connections to this land, so do the Palestinians.

Zionism is the national liberation movement for the Jewish people. But it loses its moral legitimacy when it denies that same thing to another people. We have a responsibility to partition the land and undo the injustice our (justified) presence in our homeland has caused to the Palestinians.

All that remains is for each of us to decide which child is wise and which is simple (naïve)...And which is so blinded by their opinions that they are not even able to question them?

Pesach Thoughts 5768: Of Pesachs Past and Present

Sometimes I wish things went quicker, that changes happened sooner, that the society people are trying to build here was more caring…that after 60 years Israel still wouldn’t be beset with so many problems that Pesach behooves us to try and alleviate…

But as the leader of one of modern day's great stories of national liberation writes in his autobiography, it’s a Long Walk to Freedom.

There are hiccups on the way, ups and downs, years spent in the desert.

Yet just because we haven’t reached the road's end, doesn’t mean we can't express thanks that we are alive, sustained us, and allowed to see this time, of celebrating Pesach in our own sovereign state.

שהחיינו וקיימנו והגיענו לזמן הזה

p.s. I'm not sure if its good or bad that I still find old posts about Pesach relevant so thought I would allow everyone to judge for themselves.

Chag Sameach

Pesach 2006

Pesach is a festival about freedom – and what freedom means in our day and age. What freedom means when there are people who were forced out of their homes 9 months ago that are still in hotels; or when families who work full time still can’t afford to feed their children, or when young 18 year old Israeli boys are forced to make thousands of people wait in line at roadblocks.

It’s a festival that reminds us of the need to ask questions, to critique, to not take things at face value, a time for not only asking in what way this night is different to others, but in what way our year has been different, in what way we are different from last Pesach, what we have accomplished since then, who we have met, where we have traveled, who we have helped, who we have hurt…

To read the rest click here

---------------

Pesach 2007

The Exodus story has always been reinterpreted to be meaningful…In the 20th Century, Jewish Communists celebrated being liberated from Capitalism, Jewish feminists celebrated liberation from patriarchy and early Zionists marked being free from exile and anti Semitism. Even Martin Luther King used Yetziat Mitzrayim as a paradigm for the African American struggle for equal rights.

21st century Israelis meanwhile need to take a minute to think of those in our own society who remain 'enslaved'…The festival of freedom demands us not to close our eyes to our neighbour, even when they are a different colour, gender, religion or political persuasion to us. And as long as these injustices exist, our Israeli journey isn’t complete.

Yet this morning as I went to burn my pittot in our local park, saw the excitement on the faces of the children in my secular neighbourhood as they threw crumbs into the flames…it reminded me of how far we have come…We haven’t reached the end of our own story of creating a truly egalitarian and equal society living in our Bibilical homeland in peace with our neighbours. But we’re on a journey, and I’m grateful enough to say Dayenu.

To read the rest click here

Op-ed in Ha'aretz - From a Card to a Vital Interest

Today Ha'aretz published an op-ed I wrote based on some of the work we have been doing at Reut. I just hope the talkbackers don't go into overdrive!

Following the meeting earlier this week between Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas, and reports of another summit being planned to coincide with U.S. President George W. Bush's visit in May, negotiations seem to have returned to the frequency and seriousness of the pre-Intifada period. A decade, though, is a long time in politics, especially in the Middle East. Yet despite this truism, Israel seems to be approaching negotiations with exactly the same mindset as in the past - a position that may undermine its ability to achieve its interests.

Since the Oslo Accords, Israeli policy has been guided by the assumption that the goal of the Palestinian national movement was the establishment of an independent Palestinian state. Israel viewed its decision to "grant" its adversaries such a state as a negotiating "card" that could be "traded" for Palestinian concessions in other areas, specifically Israeli security demands. If the Palestinians wanted a state so much, the logic went, they would agree to certain restrictions on their sovereignty - such as demilitarization, Israeli use of Palestinian air space and early-warning stations in the West Bank. However, recent regional trends have eroded these assumptions to the point of irrelevancy, and are turning the establishment of a Palestinian state from an Israeli "card" into a pressing Israeli interest.

For one, the changing demographics and international balance of power are threatening Israel's legitimacy as a Jewish and democratic state. Predictions that Arabs will reach demographic parity with Jews in the Land of Israel within the next decade, coupled with Palestinian and international impatience with developments on the ground, are bringing the threat of a binational state closer. For this reason, many Israelis now consider the creation of a Palestinian state not as a threat to Zionism, but, rather, as its lifeline.

Second, while Israelis increasingly see the desirability of the "two-state solution," more and more Palestinians increasingly doubt its viability. In addition to greater support for Hamas, which promotes a state in place of, rather than alongside, Israel, the lack of progress in negotiations has also taken its toll on more "moderate" Palestinians. Many view the Palestinian Authority as simply granting Israel a "license for occupation," and now suggest dissolving it and returning the full economic and political burden of that occupation to Israel.

Third, those Palestinians who still support the establishment of an independent state alongside Israel are raising the bar regarding what type of state will be acceptable to them. If in the past the Palestinians were willing to consider a state with provisional borders, Abbas now sees this as a trap. If during the Camp David negotiations Palestinians agreed to certain Israeli security demands that infringed on their sovereignty, they now oppose anything less than a full-fledged Palestinian state.

This new situation poses several dilemmas for Israel, most notably in its need to balance between security and political interests. Israel's security interests in relation to the Palestinians dictate, among other things, that it be able to prevent rocket fire on its population centers, the emergence of an eastern front, and the presence of enemy troops in the West Bank. In other words, military logic generally requires that Israel maintain control on the ground, or that it agree to the establishment of a Palestinian state only after its demands are guaranteed.

Israel's political logic, meanwhile, is to avoid having to retake responsibility for the fate of the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza, as well as stopping the continuing erosion of the two-state option and of the Jewish state's legitimacy in the international community. In contrast to its military logic, Israel's political logic requires further withdrawals from the West Bank and the establishment of a Palestinian state.

Whereas Israel traditionally believed that a peace agreement with the Palestinians could ensure both these logics, the changing reality may force Israel to choose - between creating a Palestinian state without seeing its security interests guaranteed, on the one hand, and continued security control without a political solution, on the other. In other words, the choice could well be between an agreement without security interests or no agreement at all.

There are ways Israel could alleviate this situation. It could reframe the negotiation agenda so as to leverage its security demands by discussing them alongside Palestinian demands to "intrude" into Israel's sovereign territory. Such a negotiation agenda could see Israeli demands for Palestinian demilitarization and use of air space "exchanged" for Palestinian demands for safe passage between the West Bank and Gaza, and access to Israel's labor market. At the same time, Israel could begin to formulate a national security doctrine based on deterrence within its own territory rather than on security arrangements around the external perimeter of Palestine. But regardless of these options, without a comprehensive reevaluation of the new reality, Israel may find it difficult to attain any of its political and security interests vis-a-vis the Palestinians. Nonetheless, to date, such a reevaluation does not seem to have taken place.

Aliya and Changing Computers...

My work computer was ‘upgraded’ this week. There was nothing wrong with the old one – it had served me pretty well…its just the new one is supposed to better, more advanced – an upgraded graphics chip, a faster hard drive.

Yet in many ways the process has been frustrating. Some things didn’t quite survive the move - desktop items, my screensaver. Email addresses and signatures were lost.

My favorites webpages are somewhere in cyberspace. I-Tunes music needs to be downloaded again.

Things that made the old computer mine – pictures, emails and music - are no longer to hand.

Making the switch means being prepared to take a short term loss for what one assumes will be a longer term gain. And the hardest time comes before the gain becomes apparent.

In many ways changing computers reminds me of making Aliyah.

My friends and I didn’t run away from a country – our computer wasn’t broken. We just fancied an upgrade, believed that the new life offered a richer, (clearly not financially) more meaningful experience.

Yet the moving period is never without its problems – acclimatizing takes time, bureaucracy needs to be overcome, new friends and memories need to be forged anew. Professional and social status takes time to re-establish.

Sometimes important things disappear along the way. Some can be reclaimed; others can't.

Olim trade in an old life for a new because we believe (or hope) that in the long run it will be worthwhile… its just the bit in between that's difficult.

Purim in the Shadow of Sadness

MiShenichnas Adar Marbim Besimcha – when the Hebrew month of Adar begins, our joy is increased. The new month signals the upcoming festival of Purim – when by working behind the scenes God saved the Jews from complete destruction, a reason for celebration if ever there was one.

Yet what happens when Adar comes and happiness does not increase?

Last Thursday evening, as Jews welcomed in this month of joy, a gunmen walked into a Yeshiva and sprayed between 400-500 bullets, murdering 8 young men who were pouring over holy Torah texts. A week on, I still can't bring myself to look at pictures of the carnage that was left in the study hall.

And over and above the shock, anger and sadness at the attack, I felt an overriding sense of nascent fear – that perhaps this signaled the start of something more, a return to darker days; where catching or missing that morning bus or deciding on pizza rather than a movie could make the difference between life and death; where every attack sent a host of phone calls and text messages to friends and loved ones; where Israelis stopped feeling safe doing the most normal of things. Where hope for a better future all but disappeared.

The week after Purim we read of the tragic death of two of the High Priest's sons, Nadav and Avihu. Their death occurred on one of the happiest days of Aaron's life, the dedication of the tabernacle. And as Moshe tries to comfort his brother with theological justifications ("This is what the Lord meant when He said: Through those near to be I show myself holy and gain glory before all the people") Aaron doesn’t cry out in pain or anger, he doesn’t try and rationalize or apportion blame. His response is simply silence.

And perhaps Aaron - known as the 'lover and pursuer of peace' - teaches us that sometimes the appropriate responses to tragedies are not discussions over how there will never be peace with the Arabs, or how it was an inevitable response to Israeli actions in Gaza, or why the gunman's home town of Jebal Mukaber is considered part of the eternal undivided capital of Israel.

Sometimes, the only response is silence…

So as Israelis prepare to celebrate a festival of joy against a background of terror in Jerusalem, hopelessness in Sderot, rockets on Ashkelon, the failures of Lebanon and casualties in Gaza, its difficult to feel the happiness increasing. Yet in many ways this is perhaps the archetypal Israeli experience, of sadness being mixed with joy, of delight colored by poignancy…because even during our darkest days Jews continued to believe in the potential for a better (Messianic) world; even our national anthem emphasizes that 'Od Lo Avda Tikvateinu' – our hope was not lost.

So let's hope we can be strengthened in these difficult days and pray that one day we'll not only love and pursue peace but also achieve it…and that just like Bayamim Hahem, in those days, there is some sort of hand working behind the scenes to save the day.