Letter from a Town Shrier

by

David A. Harris

Executive Director, American Jewish Committee

November 19, 2003

            There’s more bad news. This time it comes from Istanbul. Two synagogues were attacked by homicide bombers. Twenty-five people were killed, more than 300 injured.

            The community, an integral part of Turkish society, had been on alert. There were warnings of possible Al Qaeda attacks against Turkish Jews. And in 1986, a terrorist attack against an Istanbul synagogue also left 22 people dead. But as we now know too well, stopping homicide bombers is anything but easy.

            Many governments—some with more sincerity, some with less—will condemn the bombings before moving on to deal with other issues, other demands on their time and attention. And for the media, it’s just another bombing story in the increasingly long line of such stories stretching from Baghdad to Bali.

            But what about us Jews? I’d like to think that this latest deadly attack on fellow Jews, following a string of such attacks, would have a lasting impact. For many, no doubt, it will, but for others, frankly, I’m not so sure, and this is the part that puzzles me.

            George Orwell once wrote: “To see what is in front of one’s nose needs a constant struggle.” He might have added that for some it’s easier than for others.

            From my more-or-less 24/7 involvement with the American Jewish community, I’d divide us into three basic groups.

            First, there are the “activist” Jews. These are the Jews who recognize what’s going on around them and are engaged in the community, often in multiple ways. They care about Israel and fellow Jews around the world, and they are willing to act on their convictions.

            Second, there are the “bubble” Jews. These Jews haven’t left the reservation, but their level of comfort borders on outright complacency or indifference to what’s going on, hence the bubble. If they follow the news, it’s with a certain sense of detachment. When the going gets tough, they’re incredibly hard to find.

            At a prominent Westchester Reform synagogue, several lay leaders recently told the rabbi to stop talking about Israel and anti-Semitism or else they’d walk. They came to the synagogue, they said, to be uplifted, not to be confronted with depressing news.

            Also, in a similar vein, I’ve met any number of Jews whom I refer to as “ABJs,” meaning “Anyone (or anything) but Jews.” These are benevolent people prepared to help almost anyone in need of assistance except fellow Jews. Laudably, they worry about AIDS victims, inner-city kids, refugees in sub-Saharan Africa, and endangered animals, and they commit time and resources to help out. But their compassion and philanthropy, for whatever reason, simply don’t extend to other Jews, whether in Israel or elsewhere.

            And third, there are the “apologetic” Jews. These Jews believe that our misfortunes are largely, if not entirely, of our own making. If only we’d change our behavior, everything would be just fine.

            For NYU professor Tony Judt, writing in the October 23 issue of the prestigious New York Review of Books, that means converting “Israel from a Jewish state to a binational one.”

            For the financier George Soros, making a rare appearance at a Jewish event on November 5, it leads to the following proposition: “There is a resurgence of anti-Semitism in Europe. The policies of the Bush administration and the Sharon administration contribute to that…. If we change that direction, then anti-Semitism also will diminish.”

            According to a Jewish Telegraphic Agency report, Soros went further in an astonishing example of self-flagellation. “The billionaire financier said he, too, bears some responsibility for the new anti-Semitism, citing last month’s speech by Malaysia’s outgoing prime minister, Mahathir Mohammad, who said, ‘Jews rule the world by proxy.’… ‘As an unintended consequence of my actions,’ he said, ‘I also contribute to that image.’”

            This letter is respectfully directed primarily to those in the second and third groups.

            Let’s face it. By any measure, the last three years have been pretty rough. Ever since the Palestinians rejected a landmark Israeli peace offer for a two-state solution—including the partitioning of Jerusalem—and unleashed a new wave of terror and violence, the Jewish state has been confronted with unprecedented challenges.

            The normally very ordinary act of riding a city bus or sitting in a sidewalk café has overnight become a test of courage and resolve. No corner of Israel, neither inside the 1967 Green Line nor outside, is entirely safe or beyond the reach of those intent on creating havoc and mayhem. Not even the sacred space of a Passover Seder provides immunity from the murderers, any more than did the sanctity of Shabbat services in Istanbul.

            The demands on Israel’s military, intelligence, security, and police forces are beyond our capacity to imagine. Simply put, these forces have no margin for error. One successful infiltration overshadows dozens of foiled attempts. The infiltrators can be disguised as just about anyone—a pregnant woman, a soldier, an ultra-Orthodox Jew. The targets could be anything—a military base, an oil storage facility, a skyscraper, or even, or perhaps especially, a simple pizzeria.

            Israeli youngsters who dream of becoming NBA superstars, computer wizards, doctors, rabbis, you name it, are called on to defend their country and devote a minimum of three years of their lives if they’re men, two years if they’re women, while their parents live in a constant state of anxiety. The responsibility resting on the soldiers’ shoulders is nothing less than the sheer existence of the state, which, 55 years after its establishment, remains under assault by those who continue to challenge the right of the Jewish people to self-determination in any part of the Middle East.

            Is there anyone who still believes that when officials of Hamas, Islamic Jihad, or Hizballah speak of their opposition to “occupied lands” they have in mind something other than the entire State of Israel? Can anyone confidently declare that Arafat is truly committed to a peaceful two-state solution with Israel, and not a one-state solution?

            When a top adviser to Iran’s supreme leader is quoted in Agence France-Presse as recently as November 10 declaring that “the existence of Israel is in contradiction with the national interests of Iran,” and when the Vienna-based International Atomic Energy Agency reveals that Iran is much further along in its nuclear weapons program than previously believed, how difficult is it to connect the dots?

            Given Israel’s formidable military capacity, we sometimes forget certain basic geographic realities that are, to say the least, sobering. They’re worth repeating, especially as we ponder possible political solutions. Perhaps they were best expressed by Prime Minister Menachem Begin in his first meeting with President Jimmy Carter in 1977, as retold by Yehuda Avner, who accompanied the Israeli leader to the White House:

Referring to a 3x5 map Begin had brought with him, he ran his finger along the defunct [1967] border, and then said: “The Syrians sat on top of these mountains, Mr. President. We were at the bottom. This is the Hula Valley. It is hardly ten miles wide. They shelled our towns and villages from the tops of those mountains, day and night.” The prime minister’s finger now moved southwards, to Haifa. “The armistice line is hardly 20 miles away from our major port city,” he said. And then it rested on Netanya. “Our country here was reduced to a narrow waist nine miles wide…. Nine miles, Mr. President. Inconceivable! Indefensible!” The finger now hovered over Tel Aviv, and then it drummed the map: “Here live a million Jews, 12 miles from that indefensible armistice line. And here, between Haifa in the north and Ashkelon in the south lives two-thirds of our total population. And this coastal plain is so narrow that a surprise thrust by a column of tanks could cut the country in two in a matter of minutes. For whoever sits in these mountains,” his fingertips tapped the tops of Judea and Samaria, “holds the jugular vein of Israel in his hands…. Gentlemen, no nation in our merciless and unforgiving neighborhood can be rendered so vulnerable and survive.”

            No other nation has been subjected to the same level of international scrutiny as Israel. Very few people outside the rarefied precincts of the United Nations and its specialized agencies can even begin to imagine how many resolutions are devoted to denouncing Israel, how many UN resources are allocated to maintaining a full-court press on Israel. Israel has more foreign media roaming the country per capita than any other country in the world, and they’re all there to file stories. As we know too well, those stories seldom have to do with the wonders of Israeli high technology, medical research, agricultural innovations, cultural life, or social diversity.

            For me, the establishment of Israel is nothing short of a miracle. The vision of Israel was made possible by the Hebrew Bible; it was made necessary by the Holocaust. We are blessed as Jews wherever we may live to witness the development of a Jewish state. That state, especially in the past three years, has faced the unrelenting trauma of homicide bombings and international vilification, as it struggles to defend itself and to find a credible Palestinian partner with whom to restart peace talks and achieve an eventual two-state solution, the only logical political outcome to the conflict.

            That there are various schools of thought within and outside Israel on the best way to achieve peace with the Palestinians, I fully understand. And I fully understand, as well, that Israel is capable of making mistakes, big and small.

            But I also recognize that Israel has no easy alternatives. Prime Minister Ehud Barak tried a negotiated settlement; it didn’t work.  Prime Minister Ariel Sharon has tried a tougher, more aggressive approach; so far it shows little sign of success, either. Are there those among us who know with certainty the precise course for Israel, a tiny sliver of a nation barely two percent the size of Egypt and one percent the size of Saudi Arabia, to pursue in its quest for a lasting peace?

            I also understand that the support of the United States, and therefore of American Jewry—of us—is an irreplaceable strategic asset, pace Professor Judt, for the Jewish state’s security and well-being.

            We must stand strong in support of the enduring nature of the U.S.-Israel relationship. If not us, who? And if there are those among us who think that the relationship is on automatic pilot and doesn’t need constant tending, they ought to think again. Our political adversaries in this country have made abundantly clear their long-term aim of driving a wedge between Jerusalem and Washington.

            We need to stand together as one in expressing our revulsion against homicide bombings and solidarity with the Israeli victims of terrorism.

            We need to remind the world that no nation on earth yearns for peace more than the Jewish people. Peace is not a Madison Avenue slogan we picked up along the way for marketing purposes. Peace represents the essence of the Jewish quest throughout the 3,500 years of our existence, and peace has been at the heart of Israel’s mission since its founding in 1948. Yes, different people have different approaches to the peace process, but how could it be otherwise given the tumultuous history of the past 55 years (and more)? And isn’t the vigorous debate itself a sign of the health of Israeli democracy and Jewish pluralism?

            Please come out of the bubble. All this discussion, whether regarding Israel or Turkey, is not about “them.” It’s about “us.” Those Turkish synagogues could have been synagogues anywhere in the world.

            And do yourself and all of us a favor and stop apologizing. The Jews have no less right than any other people to a state of our own; perhaps our claim, based on its longevity and source, is even stronger than most. Moreover, whatever the blemishes might be—and what country has a perfect record?—Israel’s evolution as a state is worthy of our unabashed pride, even as we debate difficult issues. Also, let’s never forget: Anti-Semitism is not a Jewish disease; it’s a disease of the non-Jews. Do we really believe that, short of our disappearance, we can ever placate the anti-Semites? Haven’t we learned this painfully obvious lesson from our history?

            When a UN-sponsored conference against racism takes place in Durban, South Africa, as it did in 2001, and the most gruesome anti-Semitic and Nazi-like images and caricatures are distributed to the delegates by accredited nongovernmental organizations such as the Arab Lawyers Union, shouldn’t we wake up from our stupor?

            When rumors spread from Karachi to Newark that Israel—or Jews generally—are responsible for 9/11, do we dismiss the power of such rumors out of hand?

            When the UN Commission on Human Rights, by a vote of 40 to 5, adopts a resolution implicitly endorsing terrorist acts against Israel, can we remain silent?

            When Egyptian television airs a 41-episode series entitled Horse without a Horseman, which incorporates elements of the infamous czarist forgery The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, can we simply ignore its implications?

            When an 18-year-old named Basu Hussain of Derby, England, is quoted in the New York Times as saying, “We should all get together and kill all the Jews,” do we pretend to ourselves that he really doesn’t mean it?

            When his friend, Shaban Yasin, in the same article, adds that suicide bombing is the “wrong way” to kill the Jews and “We should find out the best way to kill them, and do that,” is this just written off as youthful fervor?

            And when, in England, a young Jewish student is stabbed over twenty times while reading psalms on a public bus, an attack which Scotland Yard labeled racist, must we not take the words of Shaban Yasin and Basu Hussein seriously?

            When the imam of New York’s most prominent mosque declares, shortly after 9/11, that “Muslims do not feel safe even going to the hospitals, because some Jewish doctors in one of the (New York) hospitals poisoned sick Muslim children who then died,” do we fail to grasp the power of his incendiary words in the Islamic world?

            And when Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal reporter, is murdered by Islamic terrorists after being compelled to identify himself on video as a Jew, does it not send a chill down the spine of every Jew?

            When European mainstream media impose Nazi images on Israel and a Portuguese Nobel Laureate likens the West Bank to Auschwitz, are we not outraged by this desecration of our history and gross distortion of a complex reality?

            When an Alitalia pilot announces to the passengers of a Tel Aviv-bound flight “Welcome to Palestine,” echoing an Air France pilot last June who referred to Tel Aviv’s airport as “Israel-Palestine,” are these nothing more than slips of the tongue?

            And when a German priest named Joerg Zink appears on a popular television talk show and, referring to Palestinian suicide bombers, says that these are “courageous young folks sacrificing themselves for their cause,” is it any wonder that so many Europeans naively romanticize the Palestinian cause?

            When the prime minister of Malaysia opens the largest gathering of heads of state from Islamic countries in years by declaring, “The Europeans killed six million Jews out of 12 million. But today the Jews rule the world by proxy. They get others to fight and die for them,” and receives a standing ovation at the end of the speech, how can we avoid the obvious conclusions?

            When a volunteer application for San Francisco Women Against Rape includes a call to participate in “political education discussions” about supporting “Palestinian Liberation and taking a stance against Zionism,” doesn’t it hit close to home?

            When a European Union survey reveals that Israel is regarded as the single greatest “threat to peace in the world” (and the United States is tied for second with Iran and North Korea), doesn’t it arouse a sense of anger and injustice?

            When the prominent Greek composer Mikis Theodorakis, best known for the music of Zorba the Greek, says that the Jews are “the root of evil,” isn’t he talking about all of us?

            When a group of hooded men shouting “Death to Jews” attack a Jewish soccer team in suburban Paris, shouldn’t it, as the New York Times editorialized, “prompt some profound soul-searching about whether the past has come calling?”

            And when this is but one of literally hundreds of documented assaults on Jews and Jewish institutions in France, including an arson attack on a Jewish school in a northern Paris suburb on Saturday, leading as many as one-third of France’s 600,000 Jews to admit in a recent survey that they are thinking about emigrating, can we afford to remain complacent?

            When the president of the British Humanist Association says that “Israel as a homeland for the Jewish people was a load of crap,” the French ambassador to the United Kingdom refers to Israel as that “shitty little country,” and an Oxford University professor announces that “I never believed that Israel had the right to exist at all,” do we simply sit still and hope it all quickly passes?

            I could keep on going for pages and pages. I could cite reports of violent attacks against Jewish targets from Morocco to Tunisia and across Europe, as well as the long shadow cast by the 1992 and 1994 terror attacks in Argentina; of vitriol spewing out of the Arab media; of anti-Semitic (and anti-Christian) textbooks in Saudi schools; of thwarted terrorist attempts against Jewish targets in Germany; of Al Qaeda threats against Jews worldwide; of calls for boycotts of Israeli products and academicians in European countries; of beefed-up security at Jewish institutions in the United States; of troubling incidents on several American and Canadian university campuses; of skewed, if not malicious, media reporting about the Middle East in many West Europe media outlets; and of persistent diplomatic double standards.

            My purpose, though, is not to strive for completeness. Rather, it’s to try to wake up the sleeping—to puncture the bubble of complacency, denial, and detachment—and to say that we, the Jewish people, have a problem today. That problem won’t go away by playing Rip Van Winkle or pretending that it’s someone else’s to deal with. We’re all in this together, Israelis and Diaspora Jews.

            I happen to believe that we’ll get through this period both because we’re strong and because we have friends, chief among them the United States. We have other friends, too. Those who believe in democracy and understand that Israel is an integral part of the community of democratic nations are friends. Those who believe that democratic societies have an obligation to protect and defend the rights of all their citizens, Jews and non-Jews alike, are friends. And those who understand the dangers of the slippery slope of anti-Semitism, the world’s oldest hatred, are friends.

            It’s also abundantly clear that a full picture of the situation should include the good news as well. This, too, would require many pages, but let me mention just a handful of examples.

            The United States remains the most extraordinary setting for Diaspora Jewish well-being and success in history. Jews enjoy unprecedented freedom, opportunity, and acceptance. Today Senator Joe Lieberman can run for the Democratic Party’s presidential bid without paying any price for his Orthodox religious observance. Dr. Howard Dean’s wife and children are Jewish, and it’s not even a topic of discussion in the elections. Both senators from Wisconsin, a state with a relatively small Jewish population, are Jewish, and no one gives it a second thought.

            Australia and Canada offer models quite similar to America. In Britain, Michael Howard, a Jew, is chosen to lead the Conservative Party and his religious affiliation clearly is not an obstacle to his selection. The top echelon of the German political elite continues to stand foursquare against anti-Semitism and for close ties with Israel. Most of the Christian churches have undergone a revolution in their attitudes toward Jews, ushering in a welcome new chapter in interfaith relations. Jewish communal and religious life is burgeoning in many parts of the former Soviet empire, a far cry from the situation just 15 years ago. And Jewish history and culture are riding a wave of popular interest from Poland to Spain.

            Still, in light of the travails of the past three years, there are those who ask whether it’s worth the fight. Is being Jewish sufficiently important to expose ourselves—and our children—to the very real dangers presented by those on the extreme left and on the extreme right, and especially by Islamic radicals? If even synagogues and Jewish schools are potential targets, why should we run the risk of being associated with either? If going to Israel entails possible peril, aren’t we better off in Cancún or Cannes?

            Such questions are serious and need thoughtful answers. Unless Jews find compelling reasons to lead a Jewish life, some will inevitably drift away, a process that could be accelerated by the current troubling atmosphere.

            I’ve devoted a separate letter to the subject of what being Jewish means to me (“Letter from a Jewish Late Bloomer,” December 3, 2002). As I wrote in that piece, I was “comfortably Jewish” growing up, but my Jewishness had little in the way of content. In fact, I didn’t attend my first Shabbat dinner until I was well into my twenties.  I’ve been playing catch-up ever since, and loving it.

            Are we ready to let others deny us our identity because, for irrational reasons, they cannot abide our presence and maniacally attribute to Jews every evil known to humankind?

            And there’s one other thing. It may sound like hubris, but it’s not. It’s a simple truth. The world needs the Jewish people. Jews form an intrinsic part of the human mosaic and have for four millennia. The world would be greatly impoverished in countless ways by the absence of the Jewish people.

            I’ll go further. A world in which there’s no place for the Jews is a world without hope. It would mean, among other things, that the world had failed the ultimate challenge of overcoming past prejudice and discrimination, and couldn’t find room for a people whose job description was to be “a light unto the nations” and who also took upon itself the unsought role of litmus test for a society’s commitment to equality under the law for all.

            Please come out of the bubble. Stop the chronic apologizing. Wake up to what’s going on. We need you. We have a cherished faith and heritage that are under assault in some key quarters. We have a state, the Jewish state, that needs our help. We dare not watch all this from the sidelines, much less avert our eyes. How will history judge us? We can draw strength from one another. Together, surely we can succeed.

            If not now, when?

Note: This is #36 in a series of monthly letters on issues of current interest. To receive copies of earlier letters, including Letter from a Jewish Late Bloomer, please contact Rebecca Neuwirth at neuwirthr@ajc.org or 212-891-1403.