To Be, Or Not To Be: The Jewish State

This past week in Jewish History, NFTY EIE has been starting to explore modern Israel, and therefore the Arab/Israeli conflict. We have heard testimonies from both sides in an attempt to gain an understanding of the issue. We have seen videos, listened to speakers, and read articles explaining the events of the Intifadas, of the Israeli occupation of Palestinian territories, and of the conflict as a whole. This, along with my previous work in the interfaith community back in the USA, has solidified two very important ideals for me: I am a Zionist, and I do not believe in a Jewish state.

Now, I know that these two things are WILDLY contradictory; the definition of Zionism is "the aspiration of the Jewish people to establish a Jewish, democratic state in the Land of Israel". So, how can I be a Zionist, but also not believe in the Jewish state? Here's how.

I'm a Zionist. I believe that the Land of Israel is the homeland of the Jewish people, of my people, and that any and every Jew should be able to come here, whether for a visit or for a lifetime. I believe that this land holds importance for billions of people, past, present, and future. I believe that the Land of Israel is a part of every Jewish soul, and that we are each entitled to find a connection here.

But I also believe that this holds true for not only Jews. I recognize that this place also carries great weight for the Muslim and Christian communities. Because of this, in my opinion, the land itself doesn't "belong" to any one group. The land belongs to all of us, and the land belongs to whatever force there may be that is drawing us all close to it.

The border of the Gaza Strip and the Israeli
city of Sderot

In my ideal world, Jews and Arabs could live in the Land of Israel (not necessarily the State of Israel, but I'll get there later) and all would be well, but my ideal world is not the current reality. The current reality is that the existence of a state with a Jewish majority in the Land of Israel is a problem for some of our Arab neighbors, and we are constantly at war with them. The reality is that Israel has occupied Palestinian land on the notion that "we were here first", but the Palestinians also believe that they were here first. The reality is that too many Israeli and Arab lives have been lost due to a terrible, never-ending conflict. The problem, in my opinion, is not "who was here first", but "now that we're both here, how do we deal with it?"

Most people with similar ideals believe that the solution, the path to peace, is a "Two-State Solution": the creation of an independent Israeli state, and an independent Palestinian state. See, I don't believe in a Two-State Solution, because no mater where the borders would be drawn, they would isolate people from one another, and from their land. I believe in a One-State Solution, but not the state that most Jews, or most Zionists, also believe in.

I believe in the establishment of a state in the Land of Israel, where all Jews are able to make aliyah and build a life here if they choose, because it can't be denied that this land is, in fact, the homeland of the Jewish people. I believe in a state where Arabs are not confined to certain territories, and I believe in a state where all Arabs and all Jews are able to freely go to historical, sacred sites, and where we can live as neighbors. But I believe, more than anything, that this era of peace will never be achieved so long as Israel is "the Jewish state".

A bust stop memorial in
Jerusalem for those who were
killed in a terrorist suicide
bombing there

Historically, mixing religion with government is usually a bad idea. It is impossible to ensure that every single citizen of any country has the same religion, and to assume that everyone, whether aligning with the religious view of the government or not, is  going to accept the verdict of a faith-based establishment is simply outrageous, and downright stupid. The Arabs make up 20% of the Israeli population, and yet the government of Israel only caters to the Jews. I truly believe that a great deal of the conflict in Israel can be eliminated if the government ceases to be religiously affiliated.

Now, many argue that Judaism is not solely a religion, that it is also a culture and a people. To this, I completely agree. However, the fact of the matter that the backbone of Judaism is the Torah, and the basic laws of the State of Israel are based on the Tanach. and that there is a large religious control on every day life in this country. Public facilities and transportation are shut down on Shabbat, it most establishments are made hallachically kosher, and there is no civil marriage (here in Israel, if a non-Orthodox, secular, or same-sex couple wants to get married, they must do so in another country, and return with their marriage certificate to be recognized by the government...the only domestic marriages that are legal are religious Orthodox weddings). So, while religious Judaism doesn't dictate every aspect of Israeli life, it does bear a very strong influence on the laws and practices of the country.

The "Security Fence" between
East and West Jerusalem

So here's what I suggest: Take down the security fence. Demilitarize. When has a military strike in the Middle East ever proven to lead to peace? Create one country, in all of the historical land of Israel, in all of the disputed territories. Establish this state with no religious affiliation, whether Jewish, Muslim, or Christian. I know that, unfortunately, this will not happen any time soon. No government, on either side of the conflict, will be willing to relinquish their pride in exchange for peace.

Part of a "Protected Park"
in Sderot (a playground for kids,
equipped with multiple easy-access
bomb/missile shelters such as the
caterpillar above)

People may think I'm crazy. In fact, I know that many do think I'm crazy. They think that I'm a crazy leftist, that my vision of a future without this childish, territorial war can never be achieved. But it's those people, the people who refuse to see that human life is more important than a piece of land, that are dreaming.These people think that the world still lives in Ancient Israel, or in the Middle Ages. They dream of a time when religious tribes ruled over certain sections of land, and where everyone in that place was exactly the same. They long for a time in which there was no cultural diversity, no mixing of ideas or traditions. I personally think that it is this mindset, this unwillingness to accept the present circumstances, that created this problem in the first place.

So what the hell do we do about it? We talk. But more than talking, we listen. We listen to the other side, and try to understand what may be running through their thoughts. After all, aren't Jews supposed to "love thy neighbor as thyself"? Aren't Jews supposed to not only love the stranger, but welcome them? Aren't we supposed to understand what it is to feel exiled from our homes, and to do everything in our power to not allow another living being experience this trauma? So, as a Jew, I believe that the answer to stop the exiling. To stop kicking Arabs out of their homes and holy sites, to stop kicking Jews out of their settlements in the occupied territories. I believe, wholeheartedly, that the answer is being willing to finally value life over your own nationalistic pride, and accept that our neighbors are not our enemies... our neighbors are our neighbors.

So I'm a radical. I believe that people are able to be civil, and are able to respect one another's existences. So I'm a dreamer. I believe that humanity will somehow be able to find a way to live side by side, regardless of differences. So I'm insane... I believe in peace.

Me, a young Jew, smiling
at the hope that someday
my people will stop
going to war

Oh, Am I Glad That's Over

My last few days here at EIE were... interesting, to say the least. They had many downs, but a few ups, despite how negative they seemed.

This past Saturday, EIE left the comfort of our home here at Tzuba to embark on a very strange journey. The first night, we spent in a Bedouin village down south, in the middle of the Negev Desert.  We had havdallah around a campfire, and we slept in a giant (but heated) tent. Among the cuddling and back massages, there was way too much coughing in our communal tent due to the excessive amount of dust and the cold germs that have been floating around recently. One girl ended up having to sleep in the infirmary because she couldn't breathe, and another one threw up repeatedly throughout the night... yeah, it was pretty sad, but just wait...

Anyway, so on Sunday we woke up bright and early to eat breakfast then ride camels!!!!!! I hopped on a lovely camel with my friend Skylar, and we named her Fergie (after the song "My Humps"). We spent about 15-20 minutes wandering down a large desert trail, in a line with all of our classmates and their respective camels.

Me, with my new friend, Fergie, and my classmates riding
their camels in the middle of the desert

After having to leave my new best friend, Fergie, the group went inside a larger tent to learn about the Bedouin lifestyle, a nomadic culture that makes the desert thrive. Above all else, the Bedouins value respect, kindness, and hospitality. We learned all about traditions regarding how they pour their coffee, and how they place their shoes when they have guests, and so on and so forth. For example, when a guest comes into your tent, if they take off their shoes, that means they need a place to stay for the night; if they don't they're just there for a visit. If you offer a guest 3 mostly full cups of coffee or tea, that means you have a place for them for up to 3 days, but if you offer them only 1 cup, full to the brim, it means that you'll give them a refreshment but they can't stay.

Even though we were offered more than one cup of tea, we had to leave at about noon on Sunday. After visiting the grave of David Ben Gurion, the 1st prime minister of the modern State of Israel (and one of the most influential people in the creation of the state), the real "fun" began. A couple of minutes down the road was an IDF army base that was going to be my home for the next 3 nights.

Now, before I start talking about my experience in Gadna, the 4-day IDF boot camp program, I'd like to preface the rest of this blog post by saying the following:
I do NOT hate the military. I do not, in any way, shape, or form, believe that the military, especially that of Israel, is bad or wrong. I know how important it is, particularly in such a war-prone area, to have an army, and I greatly admire the brave people who participate in serving their (our) country in this way... I just believe in free will, self-expression, and freedom of speech, all things that aren't afforded to you if you serve in the army... so, I'd just prefer to not be a part of it.

When I told this to a friend of mine, she asked me, "So you want your rights, but you don't want to fight for them?" At first I didn't have an answer for her, but then I said, "I can fight for my rights to be who and what I am without being in the military. I think anybody who serves is incredibly brave and worth recognizing, but I'd like to stand up for myself and my community by speaking out, not by being silent in the masses of a war."

Anyway, back to Gadna. So as we were on the bus, I thought, "You know, this program is supposed to make young Israelis more patriotic, more excited to join the IDF when their time comes. I know I'm a bit biased, but I'll go in and just see what happens. Positive attitude, Em, keep it positive!"... Little did I know just how much my bias was actually correct.

I got off the bus, and was ordered to stand silently in a line (in Hebrew, so I only kind of understood it) by a woman in a green uniform with an enormous gun. I wasn't a huge fan, but it wasn't so bad. We walked to a shady space where we were split into 2 teams of 15 EIE students each, and I got put with a great group, so I was fine. We spoke to our m'fakedet, our commander, about any physical injuries and/or dietary restrictions, and she was really sweet (well, as sweet as an army commander can be), and I was fine. Then we got our uniforms.

See, I don't hate the army, but I DO hate uniforms. In case it wasn't made apparent by my purple hair, my multiple piercings, my androgynous wardrobe, and my daily yarmulke-wearing, I'm a fan of a little thing called "freedom of expression". So I was put in an itchy, dusty uniform that had a button missing from the pants, and I immediately felt way less comfortable than before (but I won't lie... I did look pretty good in my uniform, no matter how much the idea of taking away my individuality and making me a machine bothered me).

Sydney and me, after just getting
our uniforms

So long story short, the next few days went a little something like this:

- M'fakedet: (in Hebrew) Do something I tell you to do in 10 seconds, stand in attention, then follow me silently in 2 lines!!!
- EIE Students: KEN HAM'FAKEDET!!! (YES COMMANDER!)
- Israeli Boys: (in broken English) Ooooh AMERICA!!! You're so sexy, my f***able American b****! F*** me, Ms. America! *throws rocks through bathroom windows and wont leave us alone*
- Me: *is forced to do some activity/cries because I'm in pain from pre-existing injuries and because I'm having an awful time*
- EIE Students: *half of us get sick with sinus infections and/or intestinal infections, and are vomiting everywhere (3 leave Gadna to stay at a youth hostel so they can rest)*

Throughout the 4 days of this program, 5 of us ended up at that youth hostel, myself included. Even though I knew the last day would not be very physically taxing, I had to leave. I could barely walk (I'm still limping now, 2 days later), I was exhausted from not really sleeping on our non-beds, still getting over a cold from Poland that never had a chance to go away, and completely hating every second of being subject to the Israeli delinquents who are forced to do Gadna and the restricting military ideology. I couldn't have gotten out of there fast enough.

To sum it up, those few days were a taste of my hell, with the exception of my camel ride and a few times when we made our m'fakedet laugh by being purposefully stupid. Now, that's not to say that EVERYTHING was 100% terrible. I even had some pretty cool educational experiences. I learned how to safely and responsibly shoot an M16 (which I didn't actually shoot because a. they did that part after I left on the last morning, and b. I really don't like the whole "gun" thing), I learned that the Israeli military never shoots their weapons on their automatic settings, so as to spare as many lives as possible, and I learned that I will absolutely, never in a million years, EVER join the army.

So thank goodness I'm back at Tzuba (again), and it feels so nice to be home after all the chaos of Poland and Gadna. It's raining like crazy, which I absolutely adore, and I'm finally getting over this dang cold (woohoo)! Now, as I begin my last month here on NFTY EIE, my days will be full of college applications, tons of homework, planning and leading Shabbat services as often as possible, and trying to make even more positive memories that will last me a lifetime. So for now, Shabbat Shalom, and shalom aleichem!

A photo of me prepping for tomorrow's Shabbat morning service,
snapped by my roommate, Evie