Invigoration and Pride About What Democracy Can Look Like

There’s an old truism: If you want to sound like a fool, just say, “You know, I’m really optimistic right now about the Middle East.”

I don’t want to be a fool. There are deep, possibly insurmountable, divisions in Israeli society. I know that Israel cobbled together the most radical, right-wing governing coalition in its history, and it has a substantial base of support. I know what Israel’s demographics look like, and they aren’t good.

“To those on the ground and in the streets: Thank you. You fill me with Zionist pride and democratic, patriotic inspiration.”

But what can I say? Today I realized that my heart is filled with… if not optimism, at least a sense of invigoration and pride for Zionism and the Israeli people. And it’s thanks to those protesters in the streets of Israel.

Maybe it’s because spring is here and the sun is shining. Maybe it’s because Pesach is right around the corner, with its promises that freedom always wins out against tyrants eventually.

Whatever the cause, I’m full of hope and admiration—yet again—for Israelis. Just seeing the depth and breadth of the protests against Netanyahu’s cynical attempt to overhaul Israel’s judiciary and to strip the nation of its democratic checks and balances gives me an enormous sense of appreciation for the vitality of Israelis.

Just consider some of these astonishing items:

·      The unceasing momentum: For 12 weeks, the streets of Tel Aviv and every other major city in Israel have been filled with hundreds of thousands of protesters, especially on Saturday nights – and the demonstrations are getting larger, not smaller! What endurance and momentum this movement has shown.

·      The size:  Israel has a population of about 12 million people. Hundreds of thousands in the streets, week after week? Can we imagine what percentage of the population has shown up? The photos, of course, are awesome…

·      The breaking news: Monday morning, the embassy and consulates of Israel in the United States are closed – the staff is on strike! All part of the protest against the assault on the judiciary and Netanyahu’s firing of Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, who had the chutzpah to suggest pausing the radical legislation in the name of national unity. When have the embassies of any nation ever closed, on their own accord, in an act of protest against their own government?!

·      The flags: The protests are awash in swaths of blue, with Israeli flags prominently displayed and people singing Hatikvah. This is no anti-nationalist movement. The demonstrators are patriots standing up for democratic norms that are enshrined in the Declaration of Independence.

·      The diversity: Despite Netanyahu and his minions’ desire to paint the demonstrators as anarchists, outside agitators, or worse. The truth is that the protests are the mainstream of Israeli society: reservists refusing to serve; military leaders refusing to show up; members of the center-left and center-right calling for sanity and a return to decency. And now the Histadrut, Israel’s largest labor union—over half a million members, including airport workers, civil servants, and those government officials overseas—adds its voice.

How about this amazing scene: the Israel Philharmonic playing the national anthem at this week’s Tel Aviv protest!

THIS is what democracy looks like. And even though it’s emerging in desperate times, it’s invigorating to see.

This is a culture that is saying yesh gvul, there is a line that has been crossed by corrupt leaders who defy the will of the people—and then try to smear those righteous protesters with lies and propaganda.

As I’ve said, perhaps it will come crashing down tomorrow. The news cycle moves very quickly, and what I’ve written here may be out of date quickly. Netanyahu is corrupt, but he’s far from stupid. Maybe he’ll ram through his reforms, come what may. Maybe he’ll wag the dog with a military strike against Iran, and then call for “Jewish unity.” Maybe a cosmetic compromise will be achieved and the demonstrations will fizzle.

So I don’t want to foolishly say, “I’m optimistic about the Middle East.” But for now, my heart is filled with gratitude to those righteous protesters in the street. They should be an inspiration to lovers of democracy everywhere. We should be supporting their efforts in every way we can, especially in American Jewish and Zionist institutions to whom we pay dues. (We must demand of them: “Where do you stand?”)

To those on the ground and in the streets: Thank you. You fill me with Zionist pride and democratic, patriotic inspiration. And I’m counting down the minutes until I can come and join you!

What "Pro-Israel" Must Mean Today

רִבִּי יוּדָן נְשִׂייָא שְׁלַח לְרִבִּי חִייָה וּלְרִבִּי אַסִּי וּלְרִבִּי אִמִּי לְמִיעֲבוֹר בַּקִּרֵייָתָא דְּאַרְעָא דְּיִשְׂרָאֵל לִמְתַקְנָא לוֹן סָֽפְרִין וּמַתְנִייָנִין. עֲלוֹן לְחַד אֲתַר וְלָא אַשְׁכְּחוֹן לָא סְפַר וְלָא מַתְנִייָן. אָֽמְרִין לוֹן. אַייתוֹן לָן נְטוּרֵי קַרְתָּא. אַייְתוֹן לוֹן סַנְטוּרֵי קַרְתָּא. אָֽמְרוּן לוֹן. אֵילֵּין אֵינּוּן נְטוּרֵי קַרְתָּא. לֵית אֵילֵּין אֶלָּא חָרוּבֵי קַרְתָּא. אָֽמְרוּן לוֹן. וּמָאן אִינּוּן נְטוּרֵי קַרְתָּא. אָֽמְרוּן לוֹן. סַפְרַייָא וּמַתְנִייָנַיָּא. הָדָא הִיא דִּכְתִיב אִם י֙י לֹא־יִבְנֶ֬ה בַ֗יִת וגו׳.

 Rabbi Yehuda Ha-Nasi sent Rabbi Chiyya, Rabbi Assi, and Rabbi Immi to tour the towns of the Land of Israel…
They came to a place where there were no Torah teachers. They said, “Bring us the guardians of the city!”
The locals brought them the political leaders.
The Rabbis responded, “These are not the guardians of the city. These are the destroyers of the city!”

–Talmud Yerushalmi, Chagigah 1:7

 This Talmudic text is resounding today, as the despicable Betzalel Smotrich—incredibly, unbelievably—arrives in the United States as an envoy of Israel and as a featured guest at a Washington, DC, gala for Israel Bonds.

“We will fight to protect her from enemies from without—and within. ”

This is disturbing beyond belief. Israel Bonds, historically, has been the most apolitical of organizations; a trustworthy, mainstream body that markets a fine and secure way to invest in the infrastructure and well-being of the State of Israel.

Smotrich, on the other hand, is a Hillul Hashem, a desecration of Torah and Jewish values. He is a Kahanist, a racist, an inciter to violence. His statement last week that the Palestinian town of Huwara should be “wiped out”—as hundreds of his constituent settler extremists rioted there—is only the latest outrage of someone who has no business representing the State of Israel.

The fact that he is Israel’s Finance Minister and a minister in the Defense Ministry only shows the desperation of Prime Minister Netanyahu to elevate beyond-the-pale extremists to support “judicial reforms” that seem primarily designed to keep Netanyahu himself from being indicted.

This is not about partisan politics, not really. The fact that 300,000 people demonstrated in Israel’s streets this weekend—for the 10th week in a row!—shows that a plurality of left-center-and center-right is saying yesh gvul/there is a limit to what we will accept in a civilized society. Not long ago, Meir Kahane (יימך שמו—may the name of the wicked be blotted out) and his supporters were considered unacceptable, and were barred from sitting in the Knesset. Today, Netanyahu builds his coalition around them.

So what does it mean to be a supporter of Israel in these uncharted waters?

That’s the question I’ve been thinking about for weeks. Consider how astonishing it is: American Jewish leaders, proud and lifelong supporters of Israel, are demonstrating in front of Israeli consulates and the Grand Hyatt Hotel in DC where Smotrich is holed up. We are making our voices heard to local Israeli envoys that this government’s actions are beyond the pale of the normal discourse of left-and-right. Some even considered lobbying the Biden Administration to not grant Smotrich a visa to enter the country.

This pushback is amazing, and completely unprecedented in the 75-year history of Israel. It  also raises some questions about what it means to be “pro-Israel” at this time.

Let’s be absolutely clear: this anguish is coming from a place of desperately caring about Israel’s security, well-being, and, frankly, its soul. This is not coming from the extremist fringe of the American Jewish left, like the Orwellian-named Jewish Voice of Peace, which has long established their de facto support for Israel’s real and intractable enemies.

Israel constantly faces the threat of delegitimization, especially on college campuses and in progressive forums. And antisemitism is still a very real concern in the U.S and around the world. We certainly don’t want to fan either of those flames. So what is a concerned supporter of Israel supposed to do?

Here are my suggestions:

1.     Make absolutely clear: to be a Zionist is to support the righteous demonstrators in Israel’s streets right now. Every Thursday and every Saturday, Israelis have been demonstrating. The press is covering it as a single issue: opposition to Netanyahu’s “judicial reform.” But it’s wider than that: it’s also about deep-rooted fear for what this Coalition of Hate means for Israel’s soul.

We must be using every means at our disposal, including all our social media, to say, “As lovers of Israel, we support the demonstrations and condemn what this government is trying to do in our name.”  

2.     Engage more than ever. This is not the time to disappear from the conversation. Our Israeli brothers and sisters are making it utterly clear (as three prominent centrists made clear in this crucial letter last month): We need you now, more than ever.

That also means putting our money where our mouth is. If engagement begins and ends with kvetching on Twitter—well, that’s the coward’s form of activism. It is imperative that we send our financial support to organizations that are standing up for justice and democracy—not to mention forms of Judaism that are an alternative to the theocrats’ vision.

Personally, I support Hiddush—Freedom of Religion for Israel; the Israel Religious Action Center; ARZA; the Shalom Hartman Institute; and flourishing Reform and Conservative communities on the ground in Israel. Not to mention organizations that are doing the hard work of Jewish-Arab bridgebuilding, such as Givat Haviva and Shorashim/Roots. There are many others—all of them need our support and encouragement in these fractious times.

3.     It’s about Mishpachah. And Love. The Prime Minister and his amen-crowd will call us traitors. That’s the tactic of cowards.

But American-Jewish criticism of Israel must come from a place of love. That is, when I consider the people whom I love (and who love me), I don’t support everything they do. When someone I love is actively hurting themselves or going down a devastating path, it is my responsibility to step in, to let them know what I see, and to urge them—sometimes forcefully—to change course. But I don’t disappear.

If people we love disappear when times are tough, well, we might appropriately question whether they ever truly loved us in the first place. This is true, too, over our relationship with Israel.

The short-term future won’t be easy. Many American Jews will simply want to disengage, exhausted. And others, more perniciously, will say, “See—this is the real face of Zionism all along.”

But it’s about time that liberal Zionists make their position absolutely clear: Israel is our family, an astonishing chapter in the history of Judaism that yields perpetual gifts to contemporary Jewish life.

And we will fight to protect her from enemies from without—and within.

Moreover, the pro-Israel position must be clear. To paraphrase the language of the Talmud: Smotrich, Ben-Gvir, and their enabler Netanyahu are not the “guardians of the city.” They are those who would destroy it.

Topol's Most Amazing Feat

A brief thought about Chaim Topol, the legendary Israeli actor who died at 87 on Wednesday, that the obituaries seem to have missed:  In his acting career, he pulled off a pretty amazing feat. He simultaneously became the iconic onscreen Ashkenazi Jew and the iconic Mizrachi Jew.

Of course American Jews know Topol from his role in the 1971 film version of Fiddler on the Roof.  As Tevye, he took over the role that heretofore had belonged to Zero Mostel on Broadway. Movies have more staying power—and a broader reach—than stage performances, and for two generations it’s been Topol who has been the quintessential Tevye the Dairyman, the onscreen incarnation of Sholom Aleichem’s shtetl everyman.

This has always been my favorite scene from Fiddler:

But years before Fiddler, he was already immortalized to Israelis in the classic film Sallah Shabati—where he played the quintessential Mizrachi Jew.

Sallah Shabati is a satire about the Aliyah of the Middle Eastern Jews in the 1950s. I’ve watched and taught the film many times—as far as I can tell, it’s not explicit which country these Jews have arrived from. (It may be Yemen or Iraq). And their arrival is one comic disaster after another.

Sallah’s family arrive “on eagle’s wings” in the new country full of idealism and excitement. But they’re quickly shunted to a ma’abara, an impoverished settlement town for these new arrivals, which has more than its fair share of squalor. The movie was poignant and fairly controversial in those early days of the state, because it skewered all sorts of sacred cows: the kibbutz (presented as a place of chaos and laziness), the immigration authority (an utterly inept bureaucracy), political parties (cynical manipulators who look for ‘ethnic types’ to garner votes) and so on.

It's a comic take on the vicious and ugly racism the Mizrachi Jews received at the hands of the Ashkenazi elite with their socialism, secularism, and European touchstones. By contrast, the Mizrachim were religious—kabbalistic, even; had less familiarity with modernity and its implications; and culturally had more in common with the Palestinian Arabs than the kibbutzniks.

The very name “Sallah Shabati” is a double entendre: a perfectly legitimate Judeo-Arabic name, but also a pun that could mean “excuse me for coming here.”

Here's my favorite scene from Sallah Shabati, the song “Hamashiach Hazakein” (and watch the two Ashkenazi politicos, who spot Sallah and are eager to recruit him to Labor Zionism):

The movie Sallah Shabati is notable in additional ways. It was written and directed by Ephraim Kishon, a Hungarian-born Jewish Holocaust survivor. (In the death camp, Kishon was lined up with other inmates against a wall; the Nazis shot every 10th person in line. Kishon survived, and ultimately escaped while the Nazis were transporting him to Sobibor.) The movie was the first Israeli film to be nominated for an Academy Award (in 1964; it lost) and it still holds up today. In fact, it’s an important document to remind people of the terrible racism the Mizrachi Jews experienced at the hands of their Israeli brothers and sisters.

Anyhow, what a remarkable feat to portray both Tevye and Sallah!

(Two slightly sour reflections here. First, I wonder if in today’s identity wars, some would object to his playing both of these ethnic roles: be one or the other, but certainly not both of them.

Second, I’m thinking of the protesters in the streets of Israel these days. A sharp satire like Sallah Shabati reminds us all that sometimes the absolutely most patriotic thing you can do is to raise your voice and point out the injustices, or worse, that your country is perpetrating.)

Hats off to Topol, for pulling off this great feat! יהי זכרו ברוך.

Purim after Huwara

This week, leading up to the holiday of Purim, has been an awful one for anyone who cares about Israel and the Jewish people and the Image of G-d, tarnished and violated as it is. Violence in Israel is spinning out of control.

On Sunday, two brothers, Hallel and Yagel Yaniv from the Israeli settlement of Har Bracha were murdered by Palestinian terrorists.

On Monday, another terrorist murdered Elan Ganeles, a 26 year-old Jewish man from Connecticut, in the Jordan Valley on his way to a wedding near Jerusalem.

“The measure of our integrity will be how forcefully, how clearly, we speak out against these forces. To make clear that the filthy ilk of Smotrich and Ben Gvir will not be the defining voices of Judaism and Zionism.”

We mourn them without equivocation. We are pained as part of the interconnected body of the Jewish people, and we insist that their killers be brought to justice.

And then there is Huwara.

After the murders of the Yanivs, scores of radical armed settlers stormed through the Palestinian town of Huwara, rampaging through its neighborhoods throughout the night, burning houses and stores and cars, and leaving at least one man dead.

Even some Israeli military leaders are calling the settler rampage a “pogrom.” And it’s not hyperbole. After all, “pogrom” is the term that was created to describe mob violence against the Jews of Europe with the backing of official institutions like the Church, the government, and the press. Huwara would seem to be the first Jewish-perpetrated pogrom in history, as far as I know. The most radical elements in the government coalition have been seeding settler vioence for a long time—and have spent the past few days since the riot nodding at the perpetrators.  That should make every one of us shudder with nausea and disgust.

After all, perhaps the biggest disgrace is how all this was so predictable. For weeks, it has seemed like Israel is coming apart at the seams, as the most extreme and vicious coalition in its 75-year history gives its blessing to hate. The hundreds of thousands of Israelis who have been pouring into the streets to demonstrate, week after week, show that this government is beyond the pale in it extremism for a huge swatch of this democratic society.

The despicable Bezalel Smotrich—a Kahanist, a racist, and also the Finance Minister who shares responsibility for civilian affairs in the West Bank—says, “Huwara needs to be wiped out.”

The vile Itamar Ben Gvir—another former leader of Kahane’s movement, the man whom Netanyahu saw fit to make National Security Minister with authority over the police in the West Bank—“likes” a tweet from a settler leader saying “Huwara should be erased today.” Ben Gvir is sponsoring a bill calling for the death penalty for Palestinian terrorists, while as of this writing no Israeli terrorists have been arrested for the Huwara violence.

And Prime Minister Netanyahu—who raised these men and others to positions of authority; a disgraced leader who has demonstrated beyond any shadow of doubt to have not a shred of decency or integrity—has the audacity to compare hundreds of thousands of pro-democracy demonstrators in Israel’s streets to the pogromists in Huwara!

(By the way, as of this writing, Smotrich is still the invited guest of American supporters of Israel Bonds in Washington, DC next week. It is imperative that American Jews make clear: Smotrich is persona non grata; he is not welcome in our communities; he must be denied a U.S. visa. He is a disgrace to everything the Jewish community stands for; a true Hillul Hashem.)

It may feel like Israeli society is imploding. I happen to think Israeli democracy is resilient—but not automatically so. For far too long, Israelis and the American Jewish community have been complacent about the poisonous weed of hate that has sprouted in the Israeli far-right. Now that it has moved to the mainstream, given authority and power by a corrupt and desperate Prime Minister. Will we continue to make excuses for it?

Democracy is a muscle that needs to be exercised or it will atrophy. I, for one, see a battle before us for the soul of the Jewish state. It is of desperate importance that anyone who cares about the Jewish future realize their stake in this, and that we do everything we can to support those hundreds-of-thousands-strong protesters for democracy and decency.

What might we learn from this week’s horrors—and how can we celebrate Purim on Monday night in the shadow of Huwara?

Let’s talk about the Megillat Esther.

Esther, it must be recognized, is a comic Jewish revenge fantasy. It’s not historical; it’s a rich and quite marvelous satire, that takes in lots of targets.

We need to understand the comic dimension of Esther in order to grasp the violent denouement that takes place the end of the book:

For Mordecai was now powerful in the royal palace, and his fame was spreading through all the provinces; the man Mordecai was growing ever more powerful. So the Jews struck at their enemies with the sword, slaying and destroying; they wreaked their will upon their enemies. (Esther 9:4-5)

…

The rest of the Jews, those in the king’s provinces, likewise mustered and fought for their lives. They disposed of their enemies, killing seventy-five thousand of their foes; but they did not lay hands on the spoil That was on the thirteenth day of the month of Adar; and they rested on the fourteenth day and made it a day of feasting and merrymaking. (Esther 9:16-17)

In Esther, Jews who have been terrorized and threatened with mass destruction suddenly find themselves in a position to control their own destinies, with the precious ability to defend themselves against those who would destroy them. And then they massacre their enemies.

Did Esther anticipate Huwara?

We should note that violence—exaggerated, cartoonish violence—is an audience-pleaser. Consider, for example, Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds. It, too, is a revenge fantasy about a group of American-Jewish soldiers out to wreak revenge against every Nazi they can find in WW2-era Europe. The violence is grotesque, over-the-top, cathartic: at the end, Hitler and Goebbels and the entire Nazi senior staff are memorably executed by the “Basterds” en masse. Whether or not you find this entertaining (I must admit, I do) depends entirely on your sensibilities and your tolerance for fantasy violence.

To understand Esther, you have to understand the genre in which it is written. Esther is operating in this sort of mode. Did the Jews historically—in the name of self-defense and retribution against their genocidal enemies—slaughter 75,000 Persians? Of course not. It’s the projection of a community who heretofore has been oppressed.

And too many people don’t get what the Megillah is trying to teach with its outrageousness.

The theme that permeates Esther is inversion—events turn out to be 180 degrees from what they are expected or supposed to be. “…The very day on which the enemies of the Jews had expected to get them in their power, the opposite happened, and the Jews got their enemies in their power” (9:1).

But it’s not just the inversion of events that happens in Esther. There’s also an inversion of people:  And many of the people of the land professed to be Jews, for the fear of the Jews had fallen upon them (8:17). Can you imagine?! Those Persians were so scared of the Jews that they even pretended to be Jewish!

And perhaps that’s what’s behind the violent retribution of the Jews in Chapter 9 of the Megillah. When the Jewish defense squads of Shushan go wild and kill tens of thousands—is it so farfetched to say that this is the greatest inversion of all? Their enemies act like Jews, and the Jews act like their enemies!

And here’s where I’m going to stop laughing this year.

Because, as we know, humor is often a tool that reveals deeply hidden truths. “If you want to understand a society,” said Rebbe Nachman in one of his greatest stories, “you have to understand its humor.” Humor exposes things that a community strives to keep under wraps.

The Megillah predicted that Jews are just as capable as anyone of behaving monstrously. Huwara proves this to be so. In Huwara, we saw that Jews are just as capable as anyone of behaving monstrously, just as Esther predicted. Is there anyone left who believes that Jews, once in power, are immune from committing horrible acts? Everyone is capable of atrocities, and just because, on the historical balance sheet, Jews have usually been the victims, that is no reason to believe Jews can’t commit horrors. Huwara proves that, Q.E.D.

The measure of our integrity will be how forcefully, how clearly, we speak out against these forces. To make clear that the filthy ilk of Smotrich and Ben Gvir and the rioters crying for blood will not be the defining voices of Judaism and Zionism. Every one of us has to say yesh gvul (there is a limit to what we will allow in our names), and we must be the voice of democracy, decency, and justice—as envisioned by our Torah and by the founders of the State of Israel.

On Monday night, I’ll be with my community and we’ll read Esther again. We’ll boo and drown out the name of Haman; we’ll celebrate Esther’s bravery. We’ll drink a few L’chayims. But I’ll be reflecting on how Purim is ultimately about inversion and disguises—and how those Purim costumes have a powerful way of revealing deep truths about what lies behind the mask of seemingly civilized people.