This piece originally appeared here.
It’s worth repeating that we should all be working and/or (at the very least) hoping for the safe return of three teenagers who were kidnapped days ago in the occupied territories. Now the question has been asked: Is it insensitive to talk about building a just peace based on self-determination for all peoples right now? It is insensitive to all of the past, present, and future victims of aggression here to avoid talking about the context of this kidnapping as well as the ensuing rise in violence. It is insensitive to steer clear of the conversation on how to stop violence and end the occupation. It is insensitive at a time like this – while saying loud and clear that those three students must be returned safe, sound, and soon – to pretend that all of this is happening in a vacuum, because that is a game that leads to more hate and violence. As some steer clear of talk about the broader context, crass politicians like the Prime Minister dictate the dominant discourse. His story is focused on blaming instead of searching, and that is somehow acceptable, while looking for real answers is not? As he works to deepen divides, criticism is aimed at those working toward critical understanding of the situation, and perhaps a just peace. It matters that there is an occupation and that in the West Bank one set of people are protected by democratic rights while another lives under martial law with barriers, checkpoints, and soldiers running their lives, and no, acknowledging that fact does not make you somehow care less about the safe return of those kidnapped teenagers. Nothing justifies the kidnapping of these three teenagers - proponents of a just and peaceful future must actively condemn it and other acts of violence - and it takes a lot to feel pain here and now, while striving to look forward. I have no doubt that we (humans) have that capacity. As well, there is something important in the moment(s) of just feeling and certainly some need just that. However, we should be calling for an end to the occupation in the times when Israelis have forgotten that it exists and in the times when it is hard to hear. Here's the thing about calling for real and fundamental change: We have to be for it all the time. If we avoid the discussion about the roots of violence right now, we are being insensitive to the future victims of today’s violence.
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This article is up at Jewschool.com A group of young, Jewish, Toronto-based leaders who are active in building dynamic Jewish programming for young adults expected to get support from Moishe House for the work they do, but were surprised instead when they were turned down to be Toronto’s first Moishe House. The Toronto folks are looking to inspire more people to speak out and convince Moishe House to help them organize for the Toronto community, which was home to nearly 200,000 Jews as of 2011. Here’s their letter: This was originally published in +972 Magazine
Just like you, I argue about how many states is the right number of states between the river and the sea. I, like you, argue about the most appropriate word for describing inequality here. I, too, argue with friends and passersby about the merits and shortcomings of boycotting and BDS. You, like me, have a vision for what the fix should look like here and you are pushing for it. You, like me, are organizing your campus, workplace and community around an idea of what real justice looks like. Maybe you’re happy or nervous about the end of the Kerry talks. Maybe you’re excited or scared about the prospects of Fatah-Hamas unity. You are most likely a two-stater or a one-stater or an anarchist or a progressive Zionist or a socialist or a liberal or a solidarity activist or something of the sort. But despite your many, many differences, all of you agree that human equality is vital, and that the occupation – millions living without basic rights – is a clear, present and systemic affront to that value. Often we look more like the “splitters” in “Life of Brian” than we do thoughtful agents of change aiming to win. There are a great many organizations playing important roles, but not enough see themselves as partners, despite our many disagreements in a movement for equality. This piece originally appeared at JewSchool.com Not too long ago, members of All That’s Left (ATL) wrote about “Who We Are” despite the fact that we decided early on that we were interested in defining ATL’s aims not who ought to be in it. It reads: All That's Left members come from a variety of political, ideological and personal backgrounds, including non-Zionists, Liberal-Zionists, Anti-Zionists, Socialist-Zionists, Zionists, Post-Zionists, one, two, some, and no staters and everything in between. The common thread in our work, actions, and connections is our unequivocal opposition to the occupation and our focus on the diaspora angle of resistance to the occupation rooted in the notion that all people(s) are equal. We wrote the note in order to clarify that the collective is made up of folks from a spectrum of backgrounds who are working to end the occupation. In the end, the “Who We Are” note essentially says: “We aren’t defining who we are.” Instead, we define ATL in a sentence (All That’s Left is a collective unequivocally opposed to the occupation and committed to building the diaspora angle of resistance) in order to create a way for people to self select. It's important to note that ATL is not an organization; it is a collective of individuals that come together around our unequivocal opposition to the occupation and focus on building the diaspora angle of resistance. That's the only statement we have or will make as a collective. All of the actions we do are actions that members of ATL have done, not an ATL organization (no such organization exists). It is an important distinction to make here because I am only really speaking for myself as a member of ATL. I am in no way a spokesperson or official rep. This article also appears at Jewschool.com Coverage in the media of mounting economic inequality around the world has become commonplace over the past few months. In many ways this coverage is late to the game as growing movements for equity and justice have left a wake in their paths. Perhaps there are lessons to be found in the ideas, crises, and visions of the Kibbutz movement. The century old Socialist experiment known as the Kibbutz elicits images of Jewish pioneers pitching tents, farmers tilling fields, and folks living in rural utopia. The reality today is, as with most things, much more complicated than collective memory can often allow. In the late 1970s the utopian dream began to deteriorate. Israel’s first non-labour government came into power and the status of the Kibbutz shifted as the country began to look towards the privatization of once national institutions. Former Secretary-General of Kibbutz Ein Hashofet and current Director of Givat Haviva Educational Institution, Yaniv Sagee sees the story of the Kibbutz as intertwined with that of the country. “The Kibbutz was seen as a public investment for building the state of Israel… Until 1977, and it served as a base for confidence for the Kibbutz members because they knew they can give to the Kibbutz everything that they have and they get from the Kibbutz everything they need. And they were sure it was going to happen because they didn’t only have to rely on the kibbutz. If it wasn’t successful the movement would help and if the movement needed support then there was the government,” he said. For many Kibbutz communities, it was the beginning of the end. This is the full Spanish version (translated by Kevin Ary Levin) of the written discussion in which Avigail Shaham details her community, movement, and vision. It has been reprinted in Chile and Argentina. The full English version is here. The shortened version appears at Jewschool.com ¿Qué haces? ¿Por qué te identificas como “shomeret” (integrante del movimiento Hashomer Hatzair)? ¿Qué atractivo tiene para vos? Mi nombre es Avigail. Nací y me crié en Jerusalén, rodeada por personas buenas e inspiradoras. Entre muchas otras actividades en mi infancia y adolescencia, fui parte del movimiento juvenil Hashomer Hatzair, un movimiento sionista y socialista de cien años de antigüedad que creó algunos de los más importantes fundamentos, estructuras y cultura de la sociedad cooperativa en Israel. Cuando egresé de la escuela secundaria, fui voluntaria en un año de servicio dentro del movimiento, durante el cual mis amigos y yo trabajamos como educadores en centros del movimiento juvenil a lo largo del país, y creamos para otros jóvenes la experiencia única del movimiento: la experiencia de una comunidad juvenil autónoma, creativa y liberadora dentro de la cual uno formula su personalidad a la luz de grandes ideas y a través de discusiones sociales y contemplación mutua. Mientras lo hacíamos, nos dimos cuenta de que éramos shomrim y shomrot en nuestro carácter [identificándose verdaderamente con los ideales del movimiento]. Nos dimos cuenta de que la ideología y la cultura del movimiento eran una brújula central para nosotros al evaluar nuestras acciones y comportamiento y al elegir nuestro rol y camino en el mundo. Queríamos continuar siendo shomrim y shomrot, y crear un recorrido de vida que expresara la esencia del movimiento. This is the full version of the written discussion in which Avigail Shaham details her community, movement, and vision. The shortened version appears at Jewschool.com. This article has been translated into Spanish here and has been reprinted in Chile and Argentina. What do you do? Why do you find yourself identifying as a “Shomeret” (member of the movement)? What is the appeal for you? My name is Avigail, I was born and raised in Jerusalem, surrounded by good and inspiring people. Among many other activities in my childhood and adolescence, I was a member of Hashomer Hatzair youth movement - a 100 year old Socialist and Zionist movement which created some of the most inspiring foundations, structures and culture of cooperative society in Israel. When I graduated high school, I volunteered for a service year in the movement, in which my friends and I worked as educators in centers of the youth movement around the country, and created for other young people the unique experience of the movement - the experience of an autonomous, creative and liberating youth community in which one shapes their character in light of great ideas and through social discussions and mutual contemplation. As we were doing this, we realized we were Shomrim and Shomrot [truly identifying with the movement’s ideals] in character. We realized that the movement's ideology and culture was a central compass for us in evaluating our actions and behavior and in choosing our role and path in the world. We wanted to continue being Shomrim and Shomrot, and create a path of life which expresses the essence of the movement. This post originally appeared at JewSchool.com
After Swarthmore Hillel's decision to break from Hillel's rules regarding conversation about Israel, I sent a letter to Hillel's President and CEO, Eric Fingerhut by clicking send on a message as part of Open Hillel's campaign to open Hillel. The response was swift, cordial, perhaps prepackaged, and it suggested I take a look at Hillel's Israel Guidelines page. So I did and I came across this wonderfully written paragraph: Political Pluralism Hillel welcomes a diversity of student perspectives on Israel and strives to create an inclusive, pluralistic community where students can discuss matters of interest and/or concern about Israel and the Jewish people in a civil manner. We encourage students’ inquiry as they explore their relationship with Israel. We object to labeling, excluding or harassing any students for their beliefs and expressions thereof. As an indispensible partner to the university, Hillel seeks to facilitate civil discourse about Israel in a safe and supportive college environment that is fertile for dialogue and learning. A version of this appears at JewSchool.com
I’ve been reading an array of obituaries and reflections on Mandela and his legacy since late Thursday night when I heard that he had died. When I had a chance to reflect on the news as I traveled from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv last night my thoughts turned to my parents and a shoe museum in Toronto, where I grew up. I also thought about why I came here in the first place. When I was 13 years old, freshly Bar Mitzvah’d with an older teenaged brother spending weekends looking for fights with neo-Nazis, I first became aware that my mom was (and on some fronts still is) a politically active human being. She was a New York Jew of the baby boom generation, a Woodstock attendee, and she had, in those turbulent years of which I have no first hand knowledge, gotten involved in struggles for civil rights, against the war in Vietnam, and toward a feminist future. This originally appeared at Jewschool.com
Last year a friend who had just finished participating in a Birthright program was telling me of his harrowing journey and mentioned that they had gone to the City of David. I said something along the lines of, "Right, Silwan. The tour through people's backyards" in a tone that implied that I thought my friend, a fellow politically active organizer, would know what I was talking about. But, instead, he said something like, "Wait, that was Silwan?" It became clear at that moment that the JNF's aim via subsidiary support for ELAD to dispossess Palestinians of their homes in Silwan and replace them with settlers and a tourist site at the City of David was working. The process is barely noticeable to those who don't know to look, which is most people. What's worse is it all seemed (seems) normal to the hundreds of thousands of soldiers, Birthright participants and other tourists who visit the neighborhood without ever meeting a Palestinian resident whose land is systematically being taken. This first appeared at Jewschool.com
I hesitated before writing this. I didn’t want to even engage with the silly idea that “there is no occupation.” Unfortunately, that idea is finding more and more traction in main stream forums. The Jewish Federations of North America (JFNA) General Assembly (GA) is set to begin in a week. It will be taking place in West Jerusalem at the national convention center. It is a place that sits just a few minutes’ drive from the occupation. The Forward has already reported on the fact that the GA will not have any discussion on the occupation despite it purporting to be the place that inspires and engages current and emerging Jewish leaders” in order to tackle “the most critical issues of the day”. The Forward explains that Jerry Silverman, President and CEO of the JFNA, emphasized the GA’s focus will be on “’dialogue’ and ‘questions,’ particularly from young Jews, with no holds barred”. This may seem like a positive step for the established Jewish community, so often seen as deterring analysis and open dialogue. Unfortunately it's simply more of the same. Apparently Silverman doesn't want the occupation included in the content of the GA, because he doesn't want to "get into the political arena", but as The Forward reports, the GA has already entered that arena. There is a long list of events on political issues from Israel advocacy in the Diaspora to the separation of Synagogue and State in Israel. One speaker at the GA will be Knesset Minister Naftali Bennett who has said thoughtful things such as “When you were still climbing trees… we had here a Jewish state” and “I will do everything in my power to make sure that they [the Palestinians] don’t get a state.” A wide array of Israeli politicians will be there. So much for staying out of politics. This was originally posted at Jewschool.com Just over a week ago I voted for the first time in an Israeli election. If you didn't know there were elections just over a week ago in Israel, you’re not alone. Certainly, most people on earth were unaware. Probably most people from around the world who pay attention to Israeli politics were unaware. Actually, the majority of eligible voters were unaware. Maybe they weren’t unaware, maybe folks just weren’t interested. However, if you, like me, are into building a world of justice and peace, and the end of oppression it’s fairly important to be vocal about it. It could be the fact that these were only municipal elections that made them so uninteresting. After all, these are the people who deal with the unimportant stuff such as water, health and safety, roads and public transportation, and (lack of) caring for refugees. This originally appeared at The Daily Beast . My photos from the day are here. On Friday, just before midnight, I was shivering in the Hebron chill, trying to make sense of the day’s events, including the fact that a group of seven of us were arrested in the mid-afternoon sun for learning Torah in Hebron. That morning I had climbed onto a southbound bus in Tel Aviv-Yaffa to catch the ride to Hebron in order to learn about Jewish literature, history and the occupation as it manifests in that city. With the long rectangular box holding the tent that we were going to study in under my arm, I held on to an open bus railing and felt as if all eyes were on me. I felt as if I was carrying something dangerous. I wondered if anyone could guess where I was heading or if anyone cared. This originally appeared at JewSchool.com The question was posed: Why is the Israeli left so bored with the peace talks? Why so silent? They are not bored per se with the current round of talks between Israeli and Palestinian negotiators (set to quietly move forward through April 30, 2014). The Israeli left is, however, not paying much attention to these latest encounters between Saeb Erekat and Tzipi Livni. Actually, I’m not sure if anyone is paying attention here at all. When Jewish organizations attempt to silence discourse on the occupation everyone loses, including Palestinians, Israelis and communities around the world.
All That’s Left, an activist collective of which I am a member, recently hosted a number of international “parlor days” to promote thoughtful conversations about the importance of ending the occupation. The events took place in several cities including Toronto, New York, Boston, Jerusalem, Chicago, Melbourne and the Bay Area. Participants watched Israeli films such as The Law in These Parts and Just Vision’s Budrus These are films that explore the history, current situation and potential future impacts of the occupation. Although some of these events were scheduled to be hosted at Moishe House locations, they had to be moved when Moishe House unexpectedly withdrew. This was originally published in +972 Magazine.
Twenty, 10 or even five years ago I would have counted myself among those genuinely optimistic about the prospects of Kerry’s “peace” talks. These days I am not quite as optimistic, but nevertheless, there is a chance for these talks to lead to something positive. This as an opportunity to organize toward an end to the occupation and a just peace. This was originally published in the The Daily Beast's Open Zion Section.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting at a Passover Seder with hundreds of other people on a kibbutz not far from Haifa. As I looked at the faces of those around me in this year’s recounting of the exodus from bondage to liberation, I couldn’t help but think about the many ways in which we were reading the same Passover story, yet understanding it in massively different ways. As a critical educator, I spend a lot of time thinking about how people think about things. My family, like many others, spills a drop of wine for every one of the ten plagues that were visited upon the Egyptians. It is a small way in which we temper the joyful feeling of liberation with the memory that the Egyptians, another group of human beings, suffered in the wake of the ride to freedom. A look at All That's Left: Anti-Occupation Collective. Tectonic shifts are constant, though we only feel them when they intensify into earthquakes. Change, we all know and feel in our bones, is a steady truth. As we exit the age of television and find ourselves more and more digitally engaged with the form and content of the internet we can feel major changes in human politics, interactions and activism. I have been organizing with a group of anti-occupation activists who are generally not from Israel and Palestine, but who live here now. It occurred almost naturally in a group of 15 or 20 people that we decided that we were interested in forming a collective as opposed to an “organization”. This was originally published at Waging Nonviolence. I am a member of a group of Tel Aviv-based educators that has come together to explore and practice new ways of engaging in Hebrew language study — known as ulpan in Hebrew — with the aim of creating a space for critical discussion on the politics and society in which we have found ourselves. I am a co-founder of This Is Not an Ulpan as well as a learner in it. Too often, language programs expect learners to act as depositories for information about what is right and wrong, good or bad, done and never done in Israeli society. But our program model is built around the idea that it is imperative that we rethink this training-method of language study, and this goal of absorption into a society, and replace it with dialogue instead. Participants are asked to think about how to fix the problems in the society rather than learn to accept them. Intimidation in South Tel Aviv. Dec. 31st, 2012 This article was originally written for the Canadian Jewish News. Unfortunately, there was not enough space for it in this week's edition. The authors feel it is important to get this message out to the Canadian Jewish community right now. UPDATE: The article was published on January 28 in the Canadian Jewish News. By Naomi Lightman, A. Daniel Roth and Leora Smith with members of Right Now On December 10, many of us gathered at home to light the menorah in honour of Hanukah. In Tel Aviv’s Levinsky Park, a different sort of Hanukah gathering took place. There, hundreds of Jewish Israelis joined prominent politicians to light the menorah amid picket signs reading “Sudanese, go back to Sudan.” Looking on were non-Jewish African asylum seekers, many of whom are homeless and living in Levinsky Park. While significant segments of Israeli public opinion have turned violently against African asylum-seekers, very little has been heard about this in North America. We’d like to start that conversation now. |
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