This morning we took a tour of the security barrier that separates Jewish and Palestinian communities with Rabbi David Forman, one of the founders of Rabbis for Human Rights. The barrier runs roughly 750 kilometers and has been the source of great controversy, both in Israel and without since it often deviates from the pre-1967 boundary. In much of Jerusalem the barrier takes the form of a wall, up to eight meters high. We followed the course of the wall both from high up on the hills of Jerusalem and from down close, and Rabbi Forman spoke to us about how the wall causes hardships and even suffering to the Palestinians on the other side but also saves Israeli lives. This tension between Israel's (inconsistent) drive to act ethically (to be an 'or la-goyim' - 'a light to the nations') on the one hand and its legitimate security needs on the other was a recurring theme throughout the day's discussions. It was one Rabbi Forman felt keenly and, it was clear, thought Israel did not always do enough to negotiate responsibly (while pointing out at the same time that Israel acts more responsibly in regards to preserving the rights of minorities in the face of terror than many other countries, the United States included).
Our tour concluded with visits to two bus shelters where suicide bombers had carried out horrific attacks that claimed dozens of Israeli lives - attacks the separation barrier might have prevented. We looked at the homemade memorials that had sprung up in memory of the victims and recited Kaddish together for these young people whose lives had been tragically and brutally cut short.
Following this sobering experience we visited Beit Midrash Elul, a small organization that brings Israelis together from across the political and religious spectrum to study traditional Jewish texts together and dialogue. We were going for a mifgash, best translated as 'an encounter,' where we would sit down with the Israelis for a frank exchange of views on the various topics we'd been grappling with since we arrived.
We broke into small groups to talk, each with about five Or Hadashers and two Israelis. My group included Roni Yavin, the head of Elul, and a student named Gerah. They were a wonderful pair since religiously and politically they were very different from one another, with Roni an advocate for negotiations and a two-state solution and Gerah saying all territory must remain a part of the State of Israel. As you can imagine, this made for some very interesting - but always thoughtful and respectful - conversations that ranged from the chances for peace, to what keeps Israelis drawn to Israel, to the connection between Jews in Israel and the Diaspora, to sources of Jewish identity. The one definitive conclusion we reached - in fact the one conclusion to take away from all our learning and discussions about contemporary Israel to date - is that nothing is simple or straightforward, nothing can be reduced to black and white, right and left, Jewish and Arab, religious and secular. That no newspaper story can begin to capture the tensions and complexities and that the only way forward is to meet and truly encounter each other with all our nuances, fears, hopes, and contradictions. This was the work of these last series of programs we've engaged in as a group. We concluded on a hopeful note, Israeli and American, singing together the prayer for peace, 'Oseh Shalom Bimromav.'
1 comment:
Thank you so much for sharing your experiences with us. I look forward to, and enjoy reading these every day.
Barb Glicksman
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