Do the ends justify the means?

I can't help feeling upset and betrayed by some of my friends in the Jewish community of the UK and in particular those who support Yachad who seemingly went out of their way to involve the British Government in the affairs of Israel and the Palestinians by urging the British Foreign Minister to back an anti-Israel resolution at the UN.

Anyone who knows me knows that I agree that settlements are a road-block to Peace and we should be dismantling them, not expanding them. But that is not the point. The fact that these representatives of the Jewish community in the UK believe that the correct cause of action is to exert influence on the British government who in turn will use the UN to bully Israel, as it has done for decades is a complete inversion of the concept of Jewish peoplehood. Moreover for those who believe the ends justify the means - I ask - what is the end? If the end is Justice for the Palestinians - in what way has this helped at all? The only end served by the ridiculous means of the terribly anti-democratic UN is to continue the singling out of Israel as an international pariah. Anyone with any ounce of sense can see that Israel (which receives 10 times the sanctions any other country does) is not nearly one tenth as guilty of war crimes as most of its immediate neighbors. Syrian president Assad has killed more Palestinians in the last 3 years than Israel has in the 50 years of occupation - and yet you have chosen to urge Boris Johnson to pressure Israel? How is it not clear that the UN's anti-Israel agenda has nothing to do with helping the Palestinians?

Yachad pretends it is Pro-Israel, but I find it an incredibly privileged arrogant understanding of that term, if you believe that that means you should try and use the British government to pressure the Israeli government to do what you want. That isn't pro-Israel. Pro-Israel is: if you have a problem with the actions of the government of Israel, come tell the government of Israel - don't go behind the government of Israel's back to help its enemies gang up on her. Or wait - I assume you don't think Egypt, Malaysia, Venezuela, etc.... are also pro-Israel? The main (perhaps the only) argument supposedly Pro-Israel supporters of this vote will and can make is that this is good for Israel and only bad for Netanyahu and the right wing government which he leads which is harming Israel as well as the Palestinians. It is an interesting argument, but also viciously condescending. I can't stand Netanyahu and will do all I can to defeat him and vote in a government committed to peace. But unless you believe Israel is not a democracy, he is (unfortunately) our democratically elected head of government. So he, and his government, are the ones for now that decide what Israel does, what is pro or anti-Israel in international diplomacy, and to claim that you know better, while not being here is simply unbelievable arrogance.

This basically comes down to whether you believe the UN is a good way of affecting change in the Middle East, a just way, a fair way. Anyone who believe it is, is either foolish, deranged or does not have Israel's best interests at heart.

Yom Kippur Sermon 5777

Drasha for pre-Neilah/post Yizkor YK 2016.

The gates of judgement are closing… Neilah – the locking of the gate is nearly upon us. For many, the message of Yom Kippur can sometimes seem to be one of fear-inducement for the sake of piety. We call this day, a day of judgement. We induce the fear of one being called to a mighty court. Just in case we weren’t scared enough by the summons, over and over the text of the mahzor finds every possible way to talk about Death. Were the editors of the mahzor trying to scare us into being good, when they included the terrifying U’netana Tokef piut from the middle ages which ask who will die by fire and who by water? I believe not. Of course those who shaped and designed the Yom Kippur experience over the millennia have wanted us, the pray-ers to think about fear – but not because they wish to scare us to piety, but because they wish to alert us to the perils of giving in to such fear.

This morning, Libby chanted so beautifully from the Torah:

הַעִדֹתִי בָכֶם הַיּוֹם, אֶת-הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֶת-הָאָרֶץ--הַחַיִּים וְהַמָּוֶת נָתַתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ, הַבְּרָכָה וְהַקְּלָלָה; וּבָחַרְתָּ, בַּחַיִּים--לְמַעַן תִּחְיֶה, אַתָּה וְזַרְעֶךָ

I have brought to witness upon you today the heavens and the earth, and I have places before you Life and Death, Blessing and Curse. Choose life! So you and your children may live.

Yes – this is judgement day – yes, we are asked to face our fears. But we are being judged on the decisions we make today – whether or not we are going to give into our fears.

Each of the central texts that we read throughout the High Holidays has a fearful climax. On the first day of Rosh Hashannah, we read the story of Hagar and Ishmael being sent into the wilderness – can we imagine that kind of fear? The fear of the unknown – of leaving behind all you have, of being forced to set out on a journey where the end is out of sight, where death may easily take you. In our day, some of the descendants of Ishmael are making those journeys of fear as we speak – fleeing home, towards the unknown.

On second Day Rosh Hashannah, we read the story of Yitzhak. It starts off as a nice family camping trip, with everyone checking they have brought bug spray and enough water. It ends with Yitzhak on the barbecue, about to become the entrée for a campfire meal. Can we begin to comprehend that fear?

On Yom Kippur, we read the story of Yonah, thrown overboard to wallow in the depths of the sea – once again, it is hard for me not to think of those drowning in the seas of the Mediterranean, who leave their homes because getting into a rickety wooden boat to travel across the sea is LESS scary than what’s happening at home. But Jonah, of course does not drown, rather he is swallowed by a great fish.

And none of these stories end with death – not by the scorching fire of the sun, nor by the water, nor by the sword, but with redemption. They don’t point us to the fear of death but rather they ask of us – how do we overcome the fear that resides within us? How do we choose life? How do we choose NOT to fear?  

In our own day and age, it seems like we are all too ready to give in to fear. Many of you will have read of the current wave of attacks by people dressed as clowns. This is a real crime wave started from a hoax playing on people’s fears. The people behind these so called pranks are weaponising fear. And they are not the only ones. It almost seems we live in the age of terror. Wherever we look we seem to be trapped between those using violence to stoke fear and those stoking fear with violent results.

The politics of fear of today stand in complete contradiction to the message of Yom Kippur and to all that the Jewish tradition has had to say about how politics should be used. Jewish political thought, in its modern guise of Zionism taught us that we must come home in order to take charge of own affairs – to become a normal functioning people with a state. There was no place for historical bogeymen, no eternal Amalek’s, no enmity based on superstitions and religion. The Zionist ethos was a hopeful one – in which Israel would be able to determine its own future, create peace with its neighbours based on rational negotiation of tachles, real-world, economic and political issues.

This was the Zionism of the greatest proponent of hope our country has known in its recent history. I talk of course of President Shimon Peres. He knew that fear paralyzes. It does not allow us to go forward, through the gates of opportunity. Only hope can allow us to do that.

Yom Kippur is a Shimon Peres kinda day. It is a day, in which one of the central messages, delivered in our Haftarah from Shaharit, chanted seamlessly by Emily, is (to paraphrase Yeshiyahu):

Religion Shmeligion, Fasting, Shmasting. Get on with making a better society.

This is a day in which we name our fears – not to scare us – but make us aware of their pernicious effect on us. We need to talk about dying by fire, by water, by sword, not because we wish to be afraid of them, but the exact opposite, so we can put our fears out into the world, so they do not torment us from within. So we can overcome them. We use the imagery of death not to scare ourselves, but to remind ourselves that IN LIFE - we have the option of conquering our fears – taking our destiny into our own hands. In many eulogies, President Peres was quoted as saying:

“Optimists and Pessimists die the same way. They just live differently. I prefer to live as an Optimist.”

Yom Kippur is the opposite of the politics of fear. Rather than asking us to act out of fear, it is asking us to look into ourselves, recognize our fears and rise above them. Rise above the basest elements of our humanity, to reach those parts of us that our closest to divinity.

In discussing the process of reflection on Yom Kippur, the Midrash in Pesikta Rabbati relates that R. Levi said:

“God appears to Israel like a mirror in which many faces can be reflected; a thousand people look at it, it looks at each of them.”

And this may seem to be a very lonely experience, even a vain one – just each of us and a mirror - but there should be no such thing as a lonely Jew. Like nearly all Jewish rituals, Yom Kippur can only be done together, as a community. For this reason, our Kol Nidrei service reminded us, right at the beginning of this day:

אנו מתירין להתפלל עם העבריינים

We permit ourselves to pray with the sinners

If we all say it together – I may think he’s the sinner – but he thinks I am: We are all in this together.

As we look into the mirror of Yom Kippur, we see our fears deep inside of us, and only we see what is inside of us, but we stand surrounded by our community – transient though it may be for many of us. Their fears we do not see – but their faces, their humanity – that we see. When we try digging ourselves out of our individual holes, we are urged to look to our community – to continue to be hopeful, optimistic, to continue to believe in the goodness and potential of humanity in order to help us on our way out. If we give in to fear, allow ourselves to be ruled by negativity, we will never escape death to truly live.

If one prefers a different metaphor from the mirror, the Mishnah in Masechet Yoma (8:9) uses the metaphor of the Mikveh. Yom Kippur is the mikveh, through which we pass to purify ourselves to enter the new year. From the waters of the mikveh, we emerge re-born, full of hope to face a new year of life.

When this country chose a national anthem to signify what it meant for this nation to be reborn, brought back to life, it chose HaTikvah. At the end of our services we will sing that song of hope – not as a piece of nationalistic pride, but as a reminder that only Hope allows great things to be achieved, or as our teacher, our Nasi, our Shimon said:

“For me, dreaming is simply being pragmatic.”

May we all merit a year of hope. A year of dreams. A year where we will conquer fear. A year of choosing life.  

Shana tova. 

On Corbyn and the Jews.....

Today, Jeremy Corbyn (JC) was elected leader of the British Labour Party, and as such becomes leader of Her Majesty's loyal opposition. Many in the Jewish community have expressed concern, some have expressed dismay at some of the stances which JC has taken in regard to Israel in particular and more widely his relationship with Jews, or rather his many relationships with people who are anti-Jewish. He includes Hamas and Hezbollah among his friends. He has defended the actions of anti-Jewish clerics with links to far-right antiSemitic groups who claimed that Israel committed the terrorist attacks of 9/11. He has regularly shared platforms with Holocaust deniers and leading Jew Haters, including Paul Eisen and Raed Salah.  In short, many have tried to paint the picture that JC is anti-Jewish because he hangs around with a lot of people who are.

JC is not anti-Jewish.

JC believes that Jews do not have national rights.

Now - many may claim that these two arguments do not make sense - if someone denies the national rights of a particular group, surely one is "anti" that group. Well - this is where it gets interesting.

One of the things that even JC's enemies have remarked upon is how sincere JC appears when he denies any form of prejudice against Jews. Even those who bitterly oppose his stances tend to agree that they really don't believe he has an anti-Jewish bone in his body. So where does this come from? Well, as with most things - one needs to understand the context. There are two ways of explaining the paradox which is the perceived  leftist anti-Jewishness of JC.

Firstly JC is part of the international left - a movement in which it has become axiomatic to believe that Israel is a colonialist pawn of American imperialism, and that the Palestinian claim to the land is entirely valid while the Zionist claim is invalid. Once an axiom has been accepted as such, it isn't challenged. Within the internationalist left, no-one bothers to check historically the rights and wrongs of Palestinian claims to be the "native population" and accusations that the Zionists are a colonial import. As such, anti-Zionism is intrinsically understood as a noble part of wider anti-Imperialism - the one unifying stance of the Internationalist left. This is the known context and one that many  have pointed out. But there is another context which is equally important.

JC's refusal to recognise Jewish national rights grows from the context of his own understanding of Jewishness. The Jews whom he knows and associates with either explicitly or implicitly also deny the national character of Jewishness. He knows many diasporist British Jews. And if the Jews he knows deny their own Jewish nationality, how is he expected to take seriously that Jewishness really is a nationality and that Jews have national rights. When the Balfour declaration was being crafted, its leading opponents were Jewish diasporists. Their fear was that if a Jewish state would be created, Jews in Europe would be stripped of their national rights as citizens of the lands in which they lived. They opposed Zionism on the grounds that it was bad for British Jews. They were right. The existence of a Jewish Nation State throws into question the loyalty of British Jews. Corbyn is the natural corollary to that Diasporist fear. Corbyn understands the diasporist narrative of Jewish existence as the true and valid one. Jews are a religious group, who are free citizens of many countries. They deserve full civil rights in whichever country they should find themselves, but they have no rights to a national home (hence he would rescind the Balfour declaration), since they do not constitute a nation. JC views himself as pro-Jewish and anti-Zionist, because Diasporist Jews have encouraged his belief that such a stance is both rational and moral.

JC is a product of the situation in which Israel finds itself, as much as he is a catalyst of the factors which affect Israel's place in the world.

If Israel wants to look at the cause of its PR problems in the UK, they are not to be found with Jeremy Corbyn, but within the Jewish communities of the UK.

And as such, the Jews of the UK really have nothing to fear. Yes - Corbyn is anti-Israel, but that won't affect the Jews of the UK particularly. If anything, Corbyn, and his policy of "Anti-Israel / Pro-Jews" will be good for the Jews of the UK, as he will help break the connection of Jews and Israel which fosters anti-Jewish violence. That's the point. Even his anti-Israel stances will be relatively irrelevant, since Britain has very little power to affect any change in the Middle East, and since he is unlikely to be elected PM. But what Corbyn asks of British Jews is truly challenging: are you willing to allow someone to deny the national rights of Jews. And if not - how will you show that we are a nation? In the end, Corbyn could be Zionism's best friend.

Bibi: an awful statesman, a great politician.

It will come as no surprise to anyone that I do not support Bibi Netanyahu. I do not support the Likud party which he heads and I have never supported any party of the right in Israel. I have never supported any party other than the one of which I am a member: Meretz.

But - whatever my politics, I can't help but be impressed at Bibi's campaign strategy for this election. There is no doubt in my mind that Likud will win the election, despite my earlier optimism that we might finally have all the ingredients for a surprise. Let me explain. First - what were the perfect ingredients for a shock left-win.

1) The Disintegration of the right: Likud lost Kahlon, who is attempting to float to the middle. They failed to resurrect the Yisrael Beiteinu/Likud alliance. Shas lost Yishai, and they looked in tatters. Bennett's rising star was taking people from the traditional right - it looked like we might have a situation that the right would still have over 70 seats but the likud would not be the largest party. Because...

2) Somehow, the left defied history and managed to get its act in order. Most people have seen through Yesh Atid and they are expected to lose out in the polls - hopefully, many of those voters will return to their traditional home on the center left. At the same time, Buzi and Livni have managed to come together, understanding, that at least pragmatically they are better together. They gain the traditional Labour vote and attract a few from the centre who are made to feel a little easier about voting left because of a new name for the party and the face of Tzipi.

So, things were looking good.

And the polls were even predicting that the "Zionist Camp" could pull it off. It could be the reverse of 77, with Kahlon as the new Da"sh.

But no. It won't happen. And I think it is partly due to Bibi's political genius.

I am sure the PR campaign is not his idea directly, but it clearly is imbued with his spirit. This is absolutely his style - at the moment of truth, he is actually telling the truth. Admittedly only a small part of the truth. Only the bit which suits him, and only in a partial manner. But he is managing to run a campaign without lying but merely speaking to the heart of the average Israeli. Though I don't support Bibi, he has always been able to feel the pulse of "middle Israel" and respond to it. He has done it again.

His whole campaign is focused on the fears of Israelis. Real fears. This is political magic. It may be bad, in a moral sense, but it is effective.

At one and the same time, Bibi is managing to use his name/face recognition as a soothing force (ignoring the fact that he has overseen what most people see as a disastrous time for the Israeli state as a whole), and he is managing to play into everyone's worst fears about the opposition. He is painting himself as a steady pair of hands and those around him as children. It is quite simply genius. We may not like him, but we can't beat him.

The advert which was banned for using kids was probably the most obvious of the lot,  but all the others have had the same consistent message. Only Bibi can be trusted. And that is what Israeli voters care about.

Even though I would never vote for Bibi, the Bibisitter advert was clearly aimed at me - a parent of small children. The simple message - Buzi and Tzipi can't be trusted with "our home" (the state) or our kids. Playing into the prevailing media sense that Buzi doesn't know what he's doing and has no governing experience and playing off the fact that Tzipi has jumped from Likud to Kadima to "The Zionist Camp", Bibi makes a strong case that a vote for them is a vote for instability.


The final plank of the Bibi/Likud campaign is in fact exactly the same as the central plank of Labour campaign - choose between Bibi and "Us" ("Them").  And that is the point. In a way - though I can't stand Bibi - his campaign is at least a bit more honest than the left's. The left-leaning media has centred on a number of side-issues - his ice-cream fetish, his enjoying the high-life on the public purse, his wife's cruelty to domestic staff, etc, etc, etc, None of these are the important issues - even if some of them do point to serious character flaws and betrayal of the public trust - but bottom line, we are choosing between two different visions of the way forward for this country. And Bibi is right, that the majority of people in this country agree with his vision (perpetual war, focus on security while foolishly allowing the settlers to undermine it, refusal to think about peace with an enemy, etc).

Bibi will win the election. Why? Because the left in Israel have not made our case well enough. We HAVE been too busy picking up on the small things and have failed to make people understand the basic truth - the settlements weaken security. There is no path to real security without peace. There is no path to peace without negotiations. And there is no path to peace without relating to the primary concerns of the Palestinians.

Oh well, maybe next time.

Once again, you can't have it both ways - this time, to my own political camp.

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.

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.

"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.

 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? 

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.