One of my greatest frustrations in many of the ongoing (endless?) polemical debates I hold with others and myself is when someone tries to hold two absolutely contradictory points of view (without necessarily even acknowledging the tension/paradox of such a position). The most common example of this of course comes from Jewish supporters of Monarchy in the UK, who invariably use two arguments which absolutely cancel each other out. Point 1: (within the Jewish context) - it is uncharitable, inconsiderate, rude, ungrateful to call for the end of monarchy after all this country did for us, taking in our grandparents, great-grandparents, parents, whoever it was. As Jews we owe loyalty to this country which has been so good to us. Point 2: (outside of Jewish context and in complete contradiction to the first point) - there's no reason to get rid of the monarchy - they have absolutely no effect on government policy and it is ridiculous to suggest that the monarchy makes the UK less democratic. The obvious contradiction, of course, arises from the fact that if the Monarchy are irrelevant to the actions of the government, then we have no duty of loyalty to the Monarchy for taking in our parents, grandparents or great grandparents, but rather to the government. (I have blogged about this frustrating example of para-idiocy before).
So - as I say - that is one obvious example of the attempt to hold the rope of an argument from both ends. I can live with this - I expect people who support monarchy to disregard logic (i would write, "no offence", but actually... ). The problem comes (for me) when people I usually agree with start doing the same thing. And so I turn to the Guardian Newspaper, with whom, my love-hate relationship continues. Today I read an article, which I was drawn to, because I understood immediately that its intention was good, namely, this piece by a woman called Anne Aly, urging us not to label the gunman in the incident of the Lindt Cafe in Sydney, "a terrorist". The argument she expresses is that he is really a deranged individual, and to call him a terrorist would benefit the cause of ISIS. The argument which most lefty liberals like me inherently understood is that each time the anti-liberal press gets to report on a "terrorist" incident, they usually do so in a way which encourages people to go and attack innocent minority communities, and this is bad. I was torn about the article. It was clear to me the intention was good, but the means, "Don't call him a terrorist" and the idea that the reason was because it would bolster ISIS seemed a bit dishonest. And more than anything, it reminded me of another Guardian article by the self-publicist / feminist Jessica Valenti in which she made a hash of repeating the basic points made in this article from the New Statesmen about the killings in Isla Vista, by a young white male. In her article, Valenti argues the exact opposite - that it is immoral to attribute the Isla Vista killer's actions to mental illness (though he was known to be in treatment, unlike the killer in Sydney). In the original New Statesmen article, the author, Laurie Penny, actually calls the Isla Vista killings terrorism.
Now don't get me wrong - I am comparing three different articles all written by different people. I am not trying to claim that any of these people hold the opinions of the others (though my guess is that Laurie Penny and Jessica Valenti would agree with each other). And I realise that just because the Guardian agrees to publish both Valenti and Aly, this doesn't mean "the Guardian" agrees with both opinion pieces. I understand how comment sections of newspapers work. BUT, and there is still a "but" - every regular reader of the Guardian would recognise both Valenti's article and that of Aly as coming straight from the horse's mouth of the Guardian's worldview. Both innately reflect the political position of the Guardian. And this is telling.
When the "liberal left" (for want of a better term, and one in which I include myself), is talking about male violence against women, it is comfortable with (it even promotes) the idea that this violence MUST be seen in the context of a sexist misogynist society. I would totally agree with this standpoint. Why, when talking about a gunman, who very obviously comes from a particular ideological background, with a particular ideological agenda, demands to speak with the prime minister, hangs a pan-Islamist flag and asks for an Isis flag to be flown from the building, how is it possible that the same ideological camp would ask for this act of violence to be DE-contextualised? In this area, it is clear that "the left" has lost its way. Our desire to protect our Muslim brothers and sisters from the hate they will face following this incident is admirable, particularly the marvelous, #illridewithyou movement (I know the critique of it being patronising, but let's not overdo the cynicism). But we must divorce our desire to protect minorities from hate and our desire to objectively analyse social movements. ISIS, and Islamic extremism generally, has unearthed a new weapon against the west - the lone actor, inspired by hate, with little to no supervision. This is true terror - completely unpredictable, no obvious target, just a ticking time-bomb of violent hate. It is true that Man Haron Monis probably received no direct orders from anyone, but to pretend that his actions are in no way connected to geo-political reality is a distortion of truth which serves no-one apart from two small hateful groups. It serves Islamic extremist groups because they cannot be blamed for such an act, and hence can continue to rely on the support of Australian liberals. But it also serves the extreme fringe of the supposedly Liberal left who have become so entrenched in their ideologically held positions that they can no longer see the world as it is. There is a certain section of the liberal left (and it seems the Guardian is part of it) in which THE ENEMY is now so clearly identified, and the mantra of "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" is so completely ingrained, that all actual logic has been completely surrendered. In this scenario, the fact that the gunmen was a known anti-American activist. The fact that he supported a cause which was known to be anti-American, anti-Imperialist, and most importantly of all, Anti-Israel, means he must deserve some sympathy in the eyes of good Liberal Guardianistas.
It is not the gunman who needs to be viewed as a deranged individual in need of sympathy and mental health care. I think it's the author.
Tuesday 16 December 2014
Thursday 6 November 2014
History, Memory, Commemoration and Celebration or "Remember, Remember the 5th of November".
Perhaps one of the most influential books I have ever read was a tiny sliver of a pamphlet, really, called Zakhor, by Yosef Haim Yerushalmi. Yerushalmi was a historian, but was aware that historiography was decidedly un-Jewish. Jews don't really do History, but we do do Memory. And Memorial. And most of all we do myth-making. We re-write the past to make sense of the present. We create narratives that lend meaning to our lives. Our current lives - our celebrations and sadnesses are tied up with this narrative we plot out for ourselves. When we bring our families and clans together round a seder table, it is in the context of an unfolding national story, in which we find ourselves and into which we write ourselves, the final chapter of which we write there and then in our homes. A Jewish Home is the holder of a story of a family, of a way at arriving at the present. It is the past embodied in that home which makes it Home. Our identities, the places where we feel ourselves, our homes, are made possible by understanding ourselves in the context of a wider narrative.
Personal identity and Ego identity (social scientists would tell us) are made possible as we build a picture of ourselves, which in order for us to do, we must remember what we have done.When we create a narrative which ties together all the various "selves". Theses identities allow us to feel when we wake up in the morning that we are the logical continuation of the person who lay down last night - in mind as well as in body. Social identity is created when we can tie our own personal narrative to that of those around us. Our social identity (and Jewish identity is a social identity) is made when we find ourselves in a shared narrative, when we tell a story that is meaningful and ties us to other members of our community through our shared ability to find meaning in the narrative.
This has been an interesting week or two for memory, narrative and identity if one is a British Israeli (with many American friends). I started thinking a lot about Jewish identity in the post-religious age when I read a post on facebook about why it was ok for Jews to celebrate Halloween. Needless to say the argument was forced. There could have been a very simple answer - I'm doing no-one any harm, leave me alone. But in fairness, the writer went to great lengths to show that Halloween was not really Christian any more, certainly not Pagan and was therefore Kosher. I remained unconvinced that the holiday could be cleaned of its Pagan and Christian origins, but i certainly have no problem with Jews celebrating a Pagan holiday (or really a Christian one for that matter). My issue, if I have one, is not that Jews might betray their own tradition by celebrating Halloween, but rather whether a Jewish celebration of Halloween as a shallow, piece of fun in the secular calendar shows due respect to Pagan or Christian sensitivities to the festival. Is it ok to take cultural possession of a particular festival? Are we allowed to "cleanse" Halloween of its pagan and Christian origins? (Compare arguments over "cultural appropriation" of Native American Headdress).
On November 4th of this year, a far more meaningful (to me) conversation was going on around me, here in Israel as the Gregorian calendar and Hebrew calendar anniversaries of the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin coincided. As the country thought back to those days in 1995 before and after the shooting of Rabin, it was all too painfully obvious that we had learnt nothing from this tragedy, that we had moved nowhere in history since then. The Prime Minister was in a difficult position admittedly - having been part of the incitement to violence which preceded the assassination, he would have appeared at the very least hypocritical if he had actually spoken about the assassination for which he was held by many to be partially responsible. It would have been inappropriate for him to have spoken about the vision of peace, for which Yitzhak was sacrificed on the altar of hatred. And so he spoke of security. At the memorial ceremony I attended, the president of the Hebrew University chose a quote from Rabin in which he spoke about Security in a wider context - the social security that a proper society should seek - economic security for the weak, protection and support for the disadvantaged and disabled. His words were powerful as well as clearly polemical. As we remember, we shape our present. This year, this day of memory seemed to bring only dissatisfaction. Perhaps that dissatisfaction can grown into righteous anger.
And so to November 5th - Remember, Remember the 5th of November! The British Purim was upon us. In the United Kingdom, the 5th of November is remembered and celebrated as a date on which a plot to destroy the houses of Parliament was discovered and foiled. The Gunpowder Plot as it has been called traditionally would probably today be described by the Guardian as an act of noble resistance by persecuted Catholics against the oppression they received, and the occupation of their ancestral lands by the Tyrant King James I of England, VI of Scotland. Whatever the rights and wrongs of the conflict of which the plot was a part. It's commemoration is part of British Protestant National identity. Bonfire Night (or Guy Fawkes' Night - named after one of the conspirators) is traditionally celebrated by placing the effigy of Guy Fawkes on a fire in a re-enactment of a medieval auto-de-fe. Coming as it does at the beginning of the deepest part of winter (Winter in some parts of britain lasts from September to July, but this is when it starts to get really dark, most of the day), Guy Fawkes Night is a celebration of light in darkness - there are bonfires, and more than anything else, fireworks, which bring light to our dark world, just as Henry VIII and his protestant descendants brought light to Britain. Of course - once again - similar to the story of Halloween above, no British person would think that Bonfire night still has anything to do with the persecution of Catholics. There are probably many British Catholics who go to fireworks displays. There are certainly many Jew-ish British people who do. Bonfire Night, Guy Fawkes' night has lost all historical resonance. I guess that's my point. There is no point telling British Jews that celebrating the execution of persecuted Catholics is a bad thing if there is no social or cultural valence to such an assumption. On the other hand, what does it mean when our social and cultural commemorations and celebrations lack any historical narrative?
As we truly head into winter, another date of significance lurks - November 11th is the anniversary of the end of the First world war. Until recently in Britain November 11th was not widely commemorated. When I grew up as a child, there was little public marking of November 11th, rather the public commemoration of memorial was on the Sunday closest to the 11th, which was called Remembrance Sunday. Time has moved on. Still much of the ritual around the day is on the Sunday before, but the 2 minutes silence is on the day itself. Nevertheless, the feel of the day is overwhelmingly religious, as this article from the Guardian points out. It also points out the problematic nature of having a national loss remembered in Religious terms. Britain has done a wonderful job of expanding its understanding of religious tolerance and pluralism since the days of Guy Fawkes - these days religious leaders from all communities are invited, but it still is deeply problematic, since today, the majority of Britons are not religious. It would make more sense for the head of the Football Association to lead proceedings, it being the truly shared religious passion of Britons. The problem with Remembrance Sunday is not that Religious authorities don't have wisdom to partake. I imagine this year, the wonderful Rabbi Laura Janner Klausner will be there again and, if asked, would be able to illumine our souls and elevate our minds on the subjects of the day, whether she chose to talk about the necessity of memory, or the complexity of loyalty. She is a Great Briton, and I would be delighted to listen to her add meaning to British identity, but she is not there because of her wisdom, because of her insight or because of her ability to add meaning to the day. She is there because she represents about 40,000 (tops) Reform Jews of the 60 Million Britons in the UK, while Secular Cultural leaders do not seem to be invited. This is fundamentally problematic. As Dan Snow points out in the Guardian article above. If Remembrance does not represent those who remember, it will cease to be a defining act of civic identity. And that is truly dangerous.
As I look back and look forward, around me and over the sea, I understand once again, why I felt I needed to make my home here in Israel. There is nothing fundamentally better or worse about Jewish/Israeli culture than British/Christian Culture (or even British-Jewish culture). It is not about what is good - but rather about the place of the argument over what is good in the national narrative. There are many things about Israeli society, culture and history which are deeply ugly. There are many things which make this a hard place to live. But what there isn't is silence. There is no carpet under which we sweep the things we don't wish to talk about. We can't hide our misdeeds in history books as the British do with their empire. Instead, as each marker in the calendar pops up, it is the beginning of a new conversation of memory - of where we've been and where we are going, of who we are, and who we wish to be. I love my country. Not because it is good. But because it is Home. It is where my narrative makes sense. It is where my narrative is the story of the moment. Where Society's memory is mine, and my memorial is part of a Society of meaning. We're getting a lot wrong in this country. But some things, we get right.
Personal identity and Ego identity (social scientists would tell us) are made possible as we build a picture of ourselves, which in order for us to do, we must remember what we have done.When we create a narrative which ties together all the various "selves". Theses identities allow us to feel when we wake up in the morning that we are the logical continuation of the person who lay down last night - in mind as well as in body. Social identity is created when we can tie our own personal narrative to that of those around us. Our social identity (and Jewish identity is a social identity) is made when we find ourselves in a shared narrative, when we tell a story that is meaningful and ties us to other members of our community through our shared ability to find meaning in the narrative.
This has been an interesting week or two for memory, narrative and identity if one is a British Israeli (with many American friends). I started thinking a lot about Jewish identity in the post-religious age when I read a post on facebook about why it was ok for Jews to celebrate Halloween. Needless to say the argument was forced. There could have been a very simple answer - I'm doing no-one any harm, leave me alone. But in fairness, the writer went to great lengths to show that Halloween was not really Christian any more, certainly not Pagan and was therefore Kosher. I remained unconvinced that the holiday could be cleaned of its Pagan and Christian origins, but i certainly have no problem with Jews celebrating a Pagan holiday (or really a Christian one for that matter). My issue, if I have one, is not that Jews might betray their own tradition by celebrating Halloween, but rather whether a Jewish celebration of Halloween as a shallow, piece of fun in the secular calendar shows due respect to Pagan or Christian sensitivities to the festival. Is it ok to take cultural possession of a particular festival? Are we allowed to "cleanse" Halloween of its pagan and Christian origins? (Compare arguments over "cultural appropriation" of Native American Headdress).
On November 4th of this year, a far more meaningful (to me) conversation was going on around me, here in Israel as the Gregorian calendar and Hebrew calendar anniversaries of the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin coincided. As the country thought back to those days in 1995 before and after the shooting of Rabin, it was all too painfully obvious that we had learnt nothing from this tragedy, that we had moved nowhere in history since then. The Prime Minister was in a difficult position admittedly - having been part of the incitement to violence which preceded the assassination, he would have appeared at the very least hypocritical if he had actually spoken about the assassination for which he was held by many to be partially responsible. It would have been inappropriate for him to have spoken about the vision of peace, for which Yitzhak was sacrificed on the altar of hatred. And so he spoke of security. At the memorial ceremony I attended, the president of the Hebrew University chose a quote from Rabin in which he spoke about Security in a wider context - the social security that a proper society should seek - economic security for the weak, protection and support for the disadvantaged and disabled. His words were powerful as well as clearly polemical. As we remember, we shape our present. This year, this day of memory seemed to bring only dissatisfaction. Perhaps that dissatisfaction can grown into righteous anger.
And so to November 5th - Remember, Remember the 5th of November! The British Purim was upon us. In the United Kingdom, the 5th of November is remembered and celebrated as a date on which a plot to destroy the houses of Parliament was discovered and foiled. The Gunpowder Plot as it has been called traditionally would probably today be described by the Guardian as an act of noble resistance by persecuted Catholics against the oppression they received, and the occupation of their ancestral lands by the Tyrant King James I of England, VI of Scotland. Whatever the rights and wrongs of the conflict of which the plot was a part. It's commemoration is part of British Protestant National identity. Bonfire Night (or Guy Fawkes' Night - named after one of the conspirators) is traditionally celebrated by placing the effigy of Guy Fawkes on a fire in a re-enactment of a medieval auto-de-fe. Coming as it does at the beginning of the deepest part of winter (Winter in some parts of britain lasts from September to July, but this is when it starts to get really dark, most of the day), Guy Fawkes Night is a celebration of light in darkness - there are bonfires, and more than anything else, fireworks, which bring light to our dark world, just as Henry VIII and his protestant descendants brought light to Britain. Of course - once again - similar to the story of Halloween above, no British person would think that Bonfire night still has anything to do with the persecution of Catholics. There are probably many British Catholics who go to fireworks displays. There are certainly many Jew-ish British people who do. Bonfire Night, Guy Fawkes' night has lost all historical resonance. I guess that's my point. There is no point telling British Jews that celebrating the execution of persecuted Catholics is a bad thing if there is no social or cultural valence to such an assumption. On the other hand, what does it mean when our social and cultural commemorations and celebrations lack any historical narrative?
As we truly head into winter, another date of significance lurks - November 11th is the anniversary of the end of the First world war. Until recently in Britain November 11th was not widely commemorated. When I grew up as a child, there was little public marking of November 11th, rather the public commemoration of memorial was on the Sunday closest to the 11th, which was called Remembrance Sunday. Time has moved on. Still much of the ritual around the day is on the Sunday before, but the 2 minutes silence is on the day itself. Nevertheless, the feel of the day is overwhelmingly religious, as this article from the Guardian points out. It also points out the problematic nature of having a national loss remembered in Religious terms. Britain has done a wonderful job of expanding its understanding of religious tolerance and pluralism since the days of Guy Fawkes - these days religious leaders from all communities are invited, but it still is deeply problematic, since today, the majority of Britons are not religious. It would make more sense for the head of the Football Association to lead proceedings, it being the truly shared religious passion of Britons. The problem with Remembrance Sunday is not that Religious authorities don't have wisdom to partake. I imagine this year, the wonderful Rabbi Laura Janner Klausner will be there again and, if asked, would be able to illumine our souls and elevate our minds on the subjects of the day, whether she chose to talk about the necessity of memory, or the complexity of loyalty. She is a Great Briton, and I would be delighted to listen to her add meaning to British identity, but she is not there because of her wisdom, because of her insight or because of her ability to add meaning to the day. She is there because she represents about 40,000 (tops) Reform Jews of the 60 Million Britons in the UK, while Secular Cultural leaders do not seem to be invited. This is fundamentally problematic. As Dan Snow points out in the Guardian article above. If Remembrance does not represent those who remember, it will cease to be a defining act of civic identity. And that is truly dangerous.
As I look back and look forward, around me and over the sea, I understand once again, why I felt I needed to make my home here in Israel. There is nothing fundamentally better or worse about Jewish/Israeli culture than British/Christian Culture (or even British-Jewish culture). It is not about what is good - but rather about the place of the argument over what is good in the national narrative. There are many things about Israeli society, culture and history which are deeply ugly. There are many things which make this a hard place to live. But what there isn't is silence. There is no carpet under which we sweep the things we don't wish to talk about. We can't hide our misdeeds in history books as the British do with their empire. Instead, as each marker in the calendar pops up, it is the beginning of a new conversation of memory - of where we've been and where we are going, of who we are, and who we wish to be. I love my country. Not because it is good. But because it is Home. It is where my narrative makes sense. It is where my narrative is the story of the moment. Where Society's memory is mine, and my memorial is part of a Society of meaning. We're getting a lot wrong in this country. But some things, we get right.
"I do not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it."- (Perhaps) Voltaire
While Jerusalem is descending into chaos, in Britain the Jewish community is once again caught up in a story which seems to have rolled and rolled over the past year - should the Board of Deputies admit a representative from the "Pro-Israel" group Yachad? If there was ever an illustration of why it is important to make aliyah, perhaps that is it. If you want to live Jewish History and be a part of changing the fortune of the nation - come here. If you wish to talk about, stay there. But I digress.
Things are hard here at the moment. It feels like we are on the brink of a much greater violence. (And that, in a nutshell is the argument for not moving here!)
The latest marking of Yitzhak Rabin's assassination brought many to the realisation that the left wing of Israeli politics have no leaders, while the right wing have no solutions. We Israelis will probably never agree on how we must proceed, but the thing we all agree about is that we need peace, an end to violence, an ability to plan our days without having to think which part of town to avoid because of the possibility of an attack.
Things are hard here at the moment. It feels like we are on the brink of a much greater violence. (And that, in a nutshell is the argument for not moving here!)
The latest marking of Yitzhak Rabin's assassination brought many to the realisation that the left wing of Israeli politics have no leaders, while the right wing have no solutions. We Israelis will probably never agree on how we must proceed, but the thing we all agree about is that we need peace, an end to violence, an ability to plan our days without having to think which part of town to avoid because of the possibility of an attack.
How do we get there? On that we are divided.
There are those who suggest that we can only use force to defeat force - after all we are stronger. But the majority of Israelis know that peace will only come through negotiations. And everyone knows that you don't negotiate for peace with friends, but with enemies.
I am not a fan of Yachad, just as I am not a fan of the Zionist Federation or Stand With Us. But I believe that their desire for peace is genuine. Even if I were to hold that there desire was not genuine, would I have the right to claim they are not part of the Jewish community?
I am not a fan of Yachad, just as I am not a fan of the Zionist Federation or Stand With Us. But I believe that their desire for peace is genuine. Even if I were to hold that there desire was not genuine, would I have the right to claim they are not part of the Jewish community?
The idea of excluding Yachad because we don't like their positions is the beginning of the end for any sense of Jewish communal life. We must accept that we can be in community with those we disagree with. This has always been the way of Judaism. Or at least since the time of Hillel and Shammai and until today.
In the end, the discussion over whether to admit Yachad has nothing to do with their political stance - it is irrelevant. While I agree with them about the need for peace, negotiations, and a two-state solution, I fundamentally disagree with them over the idea that it is good for foreign Jews to meddle in the affairs of Israel. (This is the same reason why I disagree with the Zionist Federation and Stand With Us). But my opposition to the fundamental principle underlying Yachad's work does not negate my appreciation that they are part of the community of covenant which is the Jewish people. I do not deny their Jewishness, while I disagree with them. As such, in the end, the politics is irrelevant. This is about recognising that despite our differences, we are one. Now - let's try and get that message across in Jerusalem.
In the end, the discussion over whether to admit Yachad has nothing to do with their political stance - it is irrelevant. While I agree with them about the need for peace, negotiations, and a two-state solution, I fundamentally disagree with them over the idea that it is good for foreign Jews to meddle in the affairs of Israel. (This is the same reason why I disagree with the Zionist Federation and Stand With Us). But my opposition to the fundamental principle underlying Yachad's work does not negate my appreciation that they are part of the community of covenant which is the Jewish people. I do not deny their Jewishness, while I disagree with them. As such, in the end, the politics is irrelevant. This is about recognising that despite our differences, we are one. Now - let's try and get that message across in Jerusalem.
Wednesday 15 October 2014
On the vote to recognise the state of Palestine in the UK parliament.
I am neither for nor against the vote taken by the British Parliament. That is to say - I am in favour of Palestinian statehood as a necessary step towards achieving peace and prosperity for Palestinians and Israelis, and I am not sure whether the British parliament's vote will help us get there. Part of me is really angry - and for now - I just feel I need to let this anger out with some questions directed at Her Majesty's Parliament, because what does really shock me about this is the incredible hubris of the British Parliament.
If one is going to make declarative statements that have absolutely no political force, would it not be a better thing to acknowledge one's own role in the continued conflict? Would it not be better for the British Parliament to declare its sorrow at the pain, anguish, death and destruction which its terrible imperialistic, colonialist policies of the past have created. Would it not be better for the British parliament to apologise to the peoples of the Middle East for the absolutely shoddy job it did at carving up the region, bribing favoured families and ignoring the local proletariat's rights and wishes? Would it not have been better for the British parliament to call on the British government to nullify the Sykes-Picot agreement, the Balfour declaration and the creation of the Hashemite kingdom, as terrible acts of hubris by an empire on its last legs? Frankly today, it is laughable that countries like Sweden and the United Kingdom think that they can have a positive impact on the Middle East, after centuries in which Christian Europe has burned, raped and pillaged Jews and Muslims. Don't you think just a little humility might be the order of the day at last? As an Israeli, as someone who wishes to see a Palestinian state side by side with Israel, as someone who wants peace, I ask the crusading nations of Europe, to please just leave us alone. Your "help" is unwanted. We have had enough of it.
That's what the angry half of me wants to shout. But I know that it won't really do any good. I know that there are many who supported the vote for good reasons (and some for malicious). I know that in the eyes of British politicians there is no connection between the British Empire's historic responsibility for this mess and their present responsibility to impact on British foreign policy.
And so where does that leave us. It still leaves us in the Middle East - a tricky neighbourhood, in which the people of this region need to be allowed to determine their own future.
If one is going to make declarative statements that have absolutely no political force, would it not be a better thing to acknowledge one's own role in the continued conflict? Would it not be better for the British Parliament to declare its sorrow at the pain, anguish, death and destruction which its terrible imperialistic, colonialist policies of the past have created. Would it not be better for the British parliament to apologise to the peoples of the Middle East for the absolutely shoddy job it did at carving up the region, bribing favoured families and ignoring the local proletariat's rights and wishes? Would it not have been better for the British parliament to call on the British government to nullify the Sykes-Picot agreement, the Balfour declaration and the creation of the Hashemite kingdom, as terrible acts of hubris by an empire on its last legs? Frankly today, it is laughable that countries like Sweden and the United Kingdom think that they can have a positive impact on the Middle East, after centuries in which Christian Europe has burned, raped and pillaged Jews and Muslims. Don't you think just a little humility might be the order of the day at last? As an Israeli, as someone who wishes to see a Palestinian state side by side with Israel, as someone who wants peace, I ask the crusading nations of Europe, to please just leave us alone. Your "help" is unwanted. We have had enough of it.
That's what the angry half of me wants to shout. But I know that it won't really do any good. I know that there are many who supported the vote for good reasons (and some for malicious). I know that in the eyes of British politicians there is no connection between the British Empire's historic responsibility for this mess and their present responsibility to impact on British foreign policy.
And so where does that leave us. It still leaves us in the Middle East - a tricky neighbourhood, in which the people of this region need to be allowed to determine their own future.
Tuesday 23 September 2014
Migrated fb note part 3: On equal marriage.
An Open Letter to Baron Sacks of Aldgate in the City of London.
Calling all those who believe in either religious freedom (+ freedom from religion) or LGBTQ rights, or both. Today, one of my heroines, Rabbi Laura Janner Klausner shared a letter from a leading Quaker which he had sent to a member of the house of Lords, urging them to support the passing of law which would allow same sex marriage in "religious" venues by "religious" leaders. This is the letter I sent to Lord Sacks. Why don't you write one too?
כ"א סיון תשע"ג
30th of May 2013 according to the counting of the Christian Kingdom of Great Britain
Dear Lord Sacks,
I write to you, not in your esteemed position as Chief Rabbi of the Jews of Great Britain and the Commonwealth, but as Baron Sacks of Aldgate of the City of London, a Lord of her majesty’s government, and a protector of the rights of Britons in that government. I write to you about an issue dear to your heart, and to the heart of all Jews – namely religious freedom. You have written so eloquently in your book, “The Dignity of Difference” and elsewhere about the need for societies to recognise the search for truth within all religious traditions. You have been a constant voice for the promotion of a society in which each individual will be able to simultaneously draw inspiration and energy from their own tradition while being able to see the value and importance of others’ religious beliefs and join together with others to create a more just and equal society. Your criticism of the “I” culture resonated beyond sectarian boundaries as a clarion call for a more collective view of societal responsibility. You have been a leader in showing this country that all humans are created בצלם אלקים as equals, and that we all have a responsibility to defend the religious rights of others.
As such I beseech you to defend my religious rights. As a Progressive Jew, and a Reform Rabbi, I am moved by my belief in Torah, which for me is an עץ חיים – a tree oflife – a source of never ending, continuous revelation, to see, as you do, that all of us are created, בדמות אלקים. It is clear to me that the divine image in all of us demands from each of us that we be treated equally before the law. As such, I am divinely obligated (מצווה) to respect the needs and wishes of my members – whether they be straight or gay, lesbian or bisexual. As you well know, our tradition teaches that humans are createdwith the need to seek עזר כנגדו – a help-mate in life. While my human cynicism may question the romanticism of this single-partnership vision, and while the Jewish tradition has historically allowed for multiple partners, in the society in which we live, monogamy and monoandry have become part of our societal and religious fabric.
As such, though I speak for myself, and not my community, as a religious leader, I understand myself to be morally, ethically and religiously bound (מצווה) to perform ceremonies which celebrate the love and commitment of two people to each other. I view these ceremonies as a ברית אהבה – a sacred covenant of love. Moreover, given the nature of the establishment of religion in this country and the failure of the country to divorce religion from the state, as a religious leader, my role is also a legal one. And as such, if I am disbarred from marrying two people of the same gender, the state is actively squashing my religious freedom. I urge you, in your position as a member of the House of Lords to support my religious rights and freedoms and to join with other defenders of Jewish rights, such as Baroness Neuberger, in seeking a change in the law which will allow these religious marriages between two partners of the same gender to take place in my synagogue. As you know – this will in no way affect your own religious rights, nor those of anyone who does not wish to have them affected, but you will be a champion for those of us, whose religious beliefs are currently unrepresented in law.
Yours sincerely,
Rabbi Haim Shalom
Migrated Notes part 2: On Shechita
On speaking sense....
I feel that in recent years I have become much better in the self-righteous lecturing stakes when it comes to vegetarianism. This little piece isn't really about vegetarianism, it is actually about the stupidity of a public Jewish figure not knowing what Jewishness is all about, so meat-eaters - I am not attacking you. Unless the Chief Rabbit reads this, in which case, yes, I am attacking what you said (but not you personally, you seem very nice in person.
So, I'm skimming through Ha'aretz online, as one does at the end of the day, when the little one has gone to bed, and I find this rather interesting article:
all about Holland banning kosher and Halal slaughtering. As always, I am torn between the fact that I don't really support Kosher slaughtering (or any slaughter for that matter), and the fact that I know that it isn't really about animal cruelty, but more about ignorance and probably a little bit of anti-Muslim prejudice. Anyway - I am reading along laughing at how we think we are so important (there are twenty times as many muslims in Holland as Jews, but somehow we still think it is about us). And then I get to this quote from Lord-on-High Sacks,
"If pre-stunning were made compulsory under Dutch law, Jews would be unable to practice a central element of Jewish life which has been continuously practiced for over 3,000 years"
Excuse me? What? What are you talking about? Slaughter is a central part of Jewish life? Methinks not, sir. No - in fact you are completely wrong. Ritual slaughter is part of a framework in Jewish law that allows us to eat meat. Eating meat is not in any way central to Jewish life**. We are not commanded to eat meat. There is no special bracha for meat (unlike Bread, wine, fruit, vegetables, etc). Eating meat is not central to being Jewish, and anyone who thinks so is the kind of idiot who says that whatever they like to do is central to being Jewish. If I were to suggest that as a Jewish Man Utd fan, I think that supporting Liverpool is idolatry, I would be perfectly correct from a Man Utd point of view, but from a Jewish point of view, I am just talking rubbish. So well done Lord Sacks - you get the 5771 David Taylor prize for talking absolute rubbish on behalf of the Jewish people.
So Lord Sacks - please read the TaNaKh, or failing that a little bit of RaMBaM or Rav Kook, who you claim to be a fan of, or just any book of actual Jewish law, and you will discover that you are obviously deluded - that the Jewish tradition does not consider the eating of meat to be central to its practice, or at least it certainly hasn't done since our temple was destroyed 2000 years ago. On the other hand, we do pray to be returned to Zion three times a day. And yet that central plank of the Jewish tradition, you seem quite happy to ignore.
** anyone mentions the irrelevant piece of aggadata that states that there is no simha without meat gets a prize for accessory for stupidity. Not everything ever written in the Talmud makes any particular practice of central importance to Judaism. The talmud also says that Persians have sex with their clothes on. My guess is, that doesn't make it true.
Migrating Notes from facebook to here: part 1 - On faulty logic
This was a note from my facebook page over 3 years ago.
It may be time for a little rant. I hate faulty logic. Just hate it - in particular this nugget of half-truth/ pure bullshit that I was told again today. Someone told me that it was "scientifically proven" that women are better drivers, and brought as proof the fact that in civilised countries, there are special deals by insurance companies that give women better insurance. This is not true. Don't get me wrong - women might well be better drivers, but I am sure it can't be proven that they are, and certainly hasn't been yet. But I don't care about that - I care about the faulty logic. Women get better insurance because they are less likely to get sued by someone else for damage done. This has a number of causes, most of which it is hard to say lead to the claim that women are better drivers.
As a rule men drive a lot more than women (Far greater number of men commute long distances for work) - hence when an insurance company insures a man for a year, it is possible that they are insuring him for twice or three times as many hours on the road. Moreover - even when involved in an accident, and even when they may have caused one, women are less likely to get sued - either because of chivalry/chauvinism/sexism or because they are less likely to get into an argument -whatever! But it doesn't prove they are any better drivers! That is faulty logic! Now if someone argued that on average they believed that women were better drivers because among men there is a sub-culture of machismo which encourages young male drivers to act like boy-racer idiots, then I would buy it. Or if someone were to claim that society equates fast-driving with manliness and hence women are less apt to drive irresponsibly, i would agree - but the ridiculous insurance thing just does my nut. A definite case of (Alexandra - this is for you) Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc.
Rant done.
Home
To be at home
is not a geographical reality.
To go home
is not a physical journey.
To leave home
is not an easy decision.
Home
is not just where the heart is.
Home
is where the kishkes are.
Where I grow.
Where I see the future.
Where that future is mine to build.
Home.
is not a geographical reality.
To go home
is not a physical journey.
To leave home
is not an easy decision.
Home
is not just where the heart is.
Home
is where the kishkes are.
Where I grow.
Where I see the future.
Where that future is mine to build.
Home.
Monday 21 July 2014
Thoughts on returning to a land at War....
My heart is in the east
And my suitcase is packed.
Leaving home
To go Home.
Looking to a promised land
with so little promise.
Aching to be there
Waiting to be there.
But praying that peace will come
Knowing that it will not come ...
... soon enough.
And my suitcase is packed.
Leaving home
To go Home.
Looking to a promised land
with so little promise.
Aching to be there
Waiting to be there.
But praying that peace will come
Knowing that it will not come ...
... soon enough.
Written after the murders of Eyal Yifrach, Naftali Frankel, Gilad Sha'ar and Muhammed Abu Khdeir
A parent should never have to bury a son.
God, don't bury your sons and daughters in violence.
Don't drown us in blood.
May we live to praise your name.
May we live to see your image in each other.
May we live.
In peace.
God, don't bury your sons and daughters in violence.
Don't drown us in blood.
May we live to praise your name.
May we live to see your image in each other.
May we live.
In peace.
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