A video slide show celebrating 60 years of Israel set to Gil Troy’s updated version of his "Why I Am A Zionist" article (2001).
Video designed and edited by Bonnie K. Goodman.
Showing posts with label Gil_Troy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gil_Troy. Show all posts
Monday, May 12, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
The cloud that shadows Israel's 60th
Despite its miraculous progress over six decades, the country is still threatened by its neighbours
By Gil Troy
Montreal Gazette, May 07, 2008
At sundown tonight, Israel marks its 60th anniversary, celebrating impressive national achievements. In 1948, the fragile, embattled country was a harsh place to live, as imperiled as a blade of grass planted in a desert surrounded by menacing predators. Six decades later, the country is a stable, thriving democracy with seven million citizens.
No longer a flimsy seedling, Israel is like a microchip, small, sophisticated - and complicated - generating great power, attracting much attention.
Yet, despite this country's miraculous progress in six decades, the 10th anniversary of Israel 's 50th anniversary is sobering. Looking at 2008 from 1998, not 1948, highlights the devastating impact of the Oslo peace process's failure.
Today, it is easy to forget David Ben-Gurion's daring in urging Israel 's independence. The British planned to relinquish control of Palestine on May 14, 1948. In November, 1947, the United Nations had voted to partition Palestine into a Jewish state and an Arab territory - both groups called themselves "Palestinians." Ben-Gurion, the gruff, charismatic leader of the Yishuv, the Jewish state's preliminary government, endorsed the compromise. That too, took courage because the plan offered hard-to-defend boundaries and internationalized Jerusalem .
Arab leaders rejected the UN decision. The Grand Mufti of Jerusalem called for jihad. From November 1947 through May 1948, local Arabs slaughtered 1,256 Jewish men, women and children with truck bombs and ambushes, shootings and stabbings.
With Jerusalem besieged, and five surrounding Arab armies ready to pounce, many proposed postponing independence. Harry Truman's secretary of defence, the legendary George Marshall, warned Ben-Gurion's emissary "as a military man," that the situation was "grave."
Ben-Gurion, however, felt the Jews had waited long enough. They had lost sovereignty 1,900 years earlier, when the Romans razed Jerusalem , and exiled many - although some Jewish communities remained in their homeland. They had just endured the mass murder of 6 million. And the Zionist movement in Palestine had been building toward this moment, settlement by settlement, institution by institution, since the 1880s.
At 4 p.m. on May 14, 1948, David Ben-Gurion read Israel 's Declaration of Independence. This remarkable document, mixing civic and ethnic nationalism, rooted in history stretching back to the Bible, envisioned peace with all the country's neighbours.
Six thousand Jews died in Israel 's War for Independence , approximately one per cent of the population. After fierce fighting, the borders became more defensible. Jews controlled Jewish Western Jerusalem.
Alas, crack Jordanian troops captured and destroyed the old city's Jewish Quarter, the Jewish people's emotional epicentre.
Ben-Gurion's gamble paid off - although what he "won" was not much of a bargain. The new country, Israel , was small, arid, with minimal economic infrastructure, major enemies and massive waves of immigrants coming to resettle, both the survivors of the Holocaust and, over the next 10 years, nearly one million Jewish refugees expelled from Arab lands. These were days of food rationing, rough clothes, hard work, tempered by the exhilaration of returning to history, controlling their destiny and fulfilling a national mission.
Sixty years later, those who survived walk around Israel amazed. The goodies of modern Western prosperity and freedom abound, for better and worse: cars and traffic, factories and pollution, a flood of consumer goods and waves of individualistic self-indulgence. Headlines emphasize the high-tech inventions, the medical advances, the cutting-edge research. Less appreciated are record-level per-capita rates of book publishing and reading, charitable giving and volunteering, spiritual seeking and study.
Perhaps most surprising to outsiders - and most impressive given the country's tragic history - is an ingrained peace ethos. So many defining Israeli songs yearn for peace - Shir LaShalom, a song of peace, Nolatedi LeShalom, I was born for peace, Salaam Aleikum, peace be upon you - Arabic title, Hebrew lyrics, universal hope. Cynics might scoff, but the world has seen the difference between civilizations craving peace, and cultures celebrating vilification and violence.
And that explains the trauma of the 10th anniversary of the 50th. In 1998, the Oslo Accords fed Israelis' hope for peace with their Palestinian neighbours. As it did with the Sinai in 1979, Israel had made the historically unprecedented step of offering to leave contested territory seized legitimately in a border dispute. Israel imported Yasser Arafat from Tunis , offering his forces weapons and training. Alas, rather than being another Nelson Mandela, Arafat remained a terrorist. The renewed Palestinian terror campaign beginning in 2000 shattered Israelis' hope for normalcy.
That Israel's self-defence earned such worldwide opprobrium, despite the Oslo concessions, demoralized Israelis.
Israel has a strong democratic culture of self-criticism that does not exist in the Arab world. Most Israelis, from across the political spectrum, hold two contradictory positions. They lambaste their own leaders for various missteps. Still, most believe Israel 's mistakes pale amid this great betrayal when Palestinians turned from negotiations toward terror - and attracted world support rather than being urged back to negotiate.
As a result, clouds shadow tonight's celebrations. Independence Day festivities immediately follow the Day of Mourning for Fallen Soldiers and Terror Victims. This year particularly, as Israelis swing abruptly from lamentation to exhilaration, they will delight in the miracles they have created since 1948. They will mourn their lost loved ones and dashed hopes. But they will sing their collective songs of peace, knowing that they - and their neighbours - were born for peace, that peace must come upon them, in Arabic and Hebrew, with both sides willing to be self-critical, make critical compromises, and seek a solution that will make the 10th anniversary of the 60th anniversary a moment of absolute joy.
By Gil Troy
Montreal Gazette, May 07, 2008
At sundown tonight, Israel marks its 60th anniversary, celebrating impressive national achievements. In 1948, the fragile, embattled country was a harsh place to live, as imperiled as a blade of grass planted in a desert surrounded by menacing predators. Six decades later, the country is a stable, thriving democracy with seven million citizens.
No longer a flimsy seedling, Israel is like a microchip, small, sophisticated - and complicated - generating great power, attracting much attention.
Yet, despite this country's miraculous progress in six decades, the 10th anniversary of Israel 's 50th anniversary is sobering. Looking at 2008 from 1998, not 1948, highlights the devastating impact of the Oslo peace process's failure.
Today, it is easy to forget David Ben-Gurion's daring in urging Israel 's independence. The British planned to relinquish control of Palestine on May 14, 1948. In November, 1947, the United Nations had voted to partition Palestine into a Jewish state and an Arab territory - both groups called themselves "Palestinians." Ben-Gurion, the gruff, charismatic leader of the Yishuv, the Jewish state's preliminary government, endorsed the compromise. That too, took courage because the plan offered hard-to-defend boundaries and internationalized Jerusalem .
Arab leaders rejected the UN decision. The Grand Mufti of Jerusalem called for jihad. From November 1947 through May 1948, local Arabs slaughtered 1,256 Jewish men, women and children with truck bombs and ambushes, shootings and stabbings.
With Jerusalem besieged, and five surrounding Arab armies ready to pounce, many proposed postponing independence. Harry Truman's secretary of defence, the legendary George Marshall, warned Ben-Gurion's emissary "as a military man," that the situation was "grave."
Ben-Gurion, however, felt the Jews had waited long enough. They had lost sovereignty 1,900 years earlier, when the Romans razed Jerusalem , and exiled many - although some Jewish communities remained in their homeland. They had just endured the mass murder of 6 million. And the Zionist movement in Palestine had been building toward this moment, settlement by settlement, institution by institution, since the 1880s.
At 4 p.m. on May 14, 1948, David Ben-Gurion read Israel 's Declaration of Independence. This remarkable document, mixing civic and ethnic nationalism, rooted in history stretching back to the Bible, envisioned peace with all the country's neighbours.
Six thousand Jews died in Israel 's War for Independence , approximately one per cent of the population. After fierce fighting, the borders became more defensible. Jews controlled Jewish Western Jerusalem.
Alas, crack Jordanian troops captured and destroyed the old city's Jewish Quarter, the Jewish people's emotional epicentre.
Ben-Gurion's gamble paid off - although what he "won" was not much of a bargain. The new country, Israel , was small, arid, with minimal economic infrastructure, major enemies and massive waves of immigrants coming to resettle, both the survivors of the Holocaust and, over the next 10 years, nearly one million Jewish refugees expelled from Arab lands. These were days of food rationing, rough clothes, hard work, tempered by the exhilaration of returning to history, controlling their destiny and fulfilling a national mission.
Sixty years later, those who survived walk around Israel amazed. The goodies of modern Western prosperity and freedom abound, for better and worse: cars and traffic, factories and pollution, a flood of consumer goods and waves of individualistic self-indulgence. Headlines emphasize the high-tech inventions, the medical advances, the cutting-edge research. Less appreciated are record-level per-capita rates of book publishing and reading, charitable giving and volunteering, spiritual seeking and study.
Perhaps most surprising to outsiders - and most impressive given the country's tragic history - is an ingrained peace ethos. So many defining Israeli songs yearn for peace - Shir LaShalom, a song of peace, Nolatedi LeShalom, I was born for peace, Salaam Aleikum, peace be upon you - Arabic title, Hebrew lyrics, universal hope. Cynics might scoff, but the world has seen the difference between civilizations craving peace, and cultures celebrating vilification and violence.
And that explains the trauma of the 10th anniversary of the 50th. In 1998, the Oslo Accords fed Israelis' hope for peace with their Palestinian neighbours. As it did with the Sinai in 1979, Israel had made the historically unprecedented step of offering to leave contested territory seized legitimately in a border dispute. Israel imported Yasser Arafat from Tunis , offering his forces weapons and training. Alas, rather than being another Nelson Mandela, Arafat remained a terrorist. The renewed Palestinian terror campaign beginning in 2000 shattered Israelis' hope for normalcy.
That Israel's self-defence earned such worldwide opprobrium, despite the Oslo concessions, demoralized Israelis.
Israel has a strong democratic culture of self-criticism that does not exist in the Arab world. Most Israelis, from across the political spectrum, hold two contradictory positions. They lambaste their own leaders for various missteps. Still, most believe Israel 's mistakes pale amid this great betrayal when Palestinians turned from negotiations toward terror - and attracted world support rather than being urged back to negotiate.
As a result, clouds shadow tonight's celebrations. Independence Day festivities immediately follow the Day of Mourning for Fallen Soldiers and Terror Victims. This year particularly, as Israelis swing abruptly from lamentation to exhilaration, they will delight in the miracles they have created since 1948. They will mourn their lost loved ones and dashed hopes. But they will sing their collective songs of peace, knowing that they - and their neighbours - were born for peace, that peace must come upon them, in Arabic and Hebrew, with both sides willing to be self-critical, make critical compromises, and seek a solution that will make the 10th anniversary of the 60th anniversary a moment of absolute joy.
Center Field: Why I am a Zionist
By Gil Troy
Jerusalem Post, JPost.com, May 7, 2008
Today, too many friends and foes define Israel, and Zionism, by the Arab world's hostility. Doing so misses Israel's everyday miracles, the millions who live and learn, laugh and play, in the Middle East's only functional democracy. Doing so ignores the achievements of Zionism, a gutsy, visionary movement which rescued a shattered people by reuniting a scattered people. Doing so neglects the transformative potential of Zionism, which could inspire new generations of Israeli and Diaspora Jews to find personal redemption by redeeming their old-new communal homeland.
Tragically, Zionism is embattled. Arabs have demonized Zionism as the modern bogeyman, and many have clumped Zionists, along with Americans and most Westerners, as the Great Satans. In Israel, trendy post-Zionists denigrate the state which showers them with privilege, while in the Diaspora a few Jewish anti-Zionists loudly curry favor with the Jewish state's enemies. Jews should reaffirm their faith in Zionism; the world should appreciate its many accomplishments. Zionists must not allow their enemies to define and slander the movement.
No nationalism is pure, no movement is perfect, no state ideal. But today Zionism remains legitimate, inspiring, and relevant, to me and most Jews. Zionism offers an identity anchor in a world of dizzying choices - and a road map toward national renewal. A century ago, Zionism revived pride in the label "Jew"; today, Jews must revive pride in the label "Zionist."
I AM a Zionist because I am a Jew - and without recognizing Judaism's national component, I cannot explain its unique character. Judaism is a world religion bound to one homeland, shaping a people whose holy days revolve around the Israeli agricultural calendar, ritualize theological concepts, and relive historic events. Only in Israel can a Jew fully live in Jewish space and by Jewish time.
I am a Zionist because I share the past, present, and future of my people, the Jewish people. Our nerve endings are uniquely intertwined. When one of us suffers, we share the pain; when many of us advance communal ideals together, we - and the world - benefit.
I am a Zionist because I know my history - and after being exiled from their homeland more than 1900 years ago, the defenseless, wandering Jews endured repeated persecutions from both Christians and Muslims - centuries before this anti-Semitism culminated in the Holocaust.
I am a Zionist because Jews never forgot their ties to their homeland, their love for Jerusalem. Even when they established autonomous self-governing structures in Babylonia, in Europe, in North Africa, these governments in exile yearned to return home.
I am a Zionist because those ideological ties nourished and were nurtured by the plucky minority of Jews who remained in the land of Israel, sustaining continued Jewish settlement throughout the exile.
I am a Zionist because in modern times the promise of Emancipation and Enlightenment was a double-edged sword, often only offering acceptance for Jews in Europe after they assimilated, yet never fully respecting them if they did assimilate.
I am a Zionist because in establishing the sovereign state of Israel in 1948, the Jews reconstituted in modern Western terms a relationship with a land they had been attached to for millennia, since Biblical times - just as Japan or India established modern states from ancient civilizations.
I am a Zionist because in building that state, the Jews returned to history and embraced normalcy, a condition which gave them power, with all its benefits, responsibilities, and dilemmas.
I am a Zionist because I celebrate Israel's existence. Like any thoughtful patriot, though I might criticize particular government policies I dislike - I do not delegitimize the state itself. I am a Zionist because I live in the real world of nation-states. I see that Zionism is no more or less "racist" than any other nationalism, be it American, Armenian, Canadian, or Czech. All express the eternal human need for some internal cohesion, some tribalism, some solidarity among some historic grouping of individuals, and not others.
I am a Zionist because we have learned from North American multiculturalism that pride in one's heritage as a Jew, an Italian, a Greek, can provide essential, time-tested anchors in our me-me-me, my-my-my, more-more-more, now-now-now world.
I am a Zionist because in Israel we have learned that a country without a vision is like a person without a soul; a big-tent Zionism can inculcate values, fight corruption, reaffirm national unity, and restore a sense of mission.
I AM a Zionist because in our world of post-modern multi-dimensional identities, we don't have to be "either-ors", we can be "ands and buts" - a Zionist AND an American patriot; a secular Jew BUT also a Zionist. Just as some people living in Israel reject Zionism, meaning Jewish nationalism, Jews in the Diaspora can embrace it. To those who ask "How can you be a Zionist if you don't make aliya," I reply, "How will anyone make aliya without first being a Zionist?"
I am a Zionist because I am a democrat. The marriage of democracy and nationalism has produced great liberal democracies, including Israel, despite its democracy being tested under severe conditions.
I am a Zionist because I am an idealist. Just as a century ago, the notion of a viable, independent, sovereign Jewish state was an impossible dream - yet worth fighting for - so, too, today, the notion of a thriving, independent, sovereign Jewish state living in true peace with its neighbors appears to be an impossible dream - yet worth seeking.
I am a Zionist because I am a romantic. The story of the Jews rebuilding their homeland, reclaiming the desert, renewing themselves, was one of the 20th century's greatest epics, just as the narrative of the Jews maintaining their homeland, reconciling with the Arab world, renewing themselves, and serving as a light to others, a model nation state, could be one of this century's marvels. Yes, it sometimes sounds far-fetched. But, as Theodor Herzl, the father of modern Zionism, said in an idle boast that has become a cliche: "If you will it, it is no dream."
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University . He is the author of "Why I Am A Zionist: Israel, Jewish Identity and the Challenges of Today. This is an updated version of an essay he first wrote for Yom Ha'atzmaut 2001.
Jerusalem Post, JPost.com, May 7, 2008
Today, too many friends and foes define Israel, and Zionism, by the Arab world's hostility. Doing so misses Israel's everyday miracles, the millions who live and learn, laugh and play, in the Middle East's only functional democracy. Doing so ignores the achievements of Zionism, a gutsy, visionary movement which rescued a shattered people by reuniting a scattered people. Doing so neglects the transformative potential of Zionism, which could inspire new generations of Israeli and Diaspora Jews to find personal redemption by redeeming their old-new communal homeland.
Tragically, Zionism is embattled. Arabs have demonized Zionism as the modern bogeyman, and many have clumped Zionists, along with Americans and most Westerners, as the Great Satans. In Israel, trendy post-Zionists denigrate the state which showers them with privilege, while in the Diaspora a few Jewish anti-Zionists loudly curry favor with the Jewish state's enemies. Jews should reaffirm their faith in Zionism; the world should appreciate its many accomplishments. Zionists must not allow their enemies to define and slander the movement.
No nationalism is pure, no movement is perfect, no state ideal. But today Zionism remains legitimate, inspiring, and relevant, to me and most Jews. Zionism offers an identity anchor in a world of dizzying choices - and a road map toward national renewal. A century ago, Zionism revived pride in the label "Jew"; today, Jews must revive pride in the label "Zionist."
I AM a Zionist because I am a Jew - and without recognizing Judaism's national component, I cannot explain its unique character. Judaism is a world religion bound to one homeland, shaping a people whose holy days revolve around the Israeli agricultural calendar, ritualize theological concepts, and relive historic events. Only in Israel can a Jew fully live in Jewish space and by Jewish time.
I am a Zionist because I share the past, present, and future of my people, the Jewish people. Our nerve endings are uniquely intertwined. When one of us suffers, we share the pain; when many of us advance communal ideals together, we - and the world - benefit.
I am a Zionist because I know my history - and after being exiled from their homeland more than 1900 years ago, the defenseless, wandering Jews endured repeated persecutions from both Christians and Muslims - centuries before this anti-Semitism culminated in the Holocaust.
I am a Zionist because Jews never forgot their ties to their homeland, their love for Jerusalem. Even when they established autonomous self-governing structures in Babylonia, in Europe, in North Africa, these governments in exile yearned to return home.
I am a Zionist because those ideological ties nourished and were nurtured by the plucky minority of Jews who remained in the land of Israel, sustaining continued Jewish settlement throughout the exile.
I am a Zionist because in modern times the promise of Emancipation and Enlightenment was a double-edged sword, often only offering acceptance for Jews in Europe after they assimilated, yet never fully respecting them if they did assimilate.
I am a Zionist because in establishing the sovereign state of Israel in 1948, the Jews reconstituted in modern Western terms a relationship with a land they had been attached to for millennia, since Biblical times - just as Japan or India established modern states from ancient civilizations.
I am a Zionist because in building that state, the Jews returned to history and embraced normalcy, a condition which gave them power, with all its benefits, responsibilities, and dilemmas.
I am a Zionist because I celebrate Israel's existence. Like any thoughtful patriot, though I might criticize particular government policies I dislike - I do not delegitimize the state itself. I am a Zionist because I live in the real world of nation-states. I see that Zionism is no more or less "racist" than any other nationalism, be it American, Armenian, Canadian, or Czech. All express the eternal human need for some internal cohesion, some tribalism, some solidarity among some historic grouping of individuals, and not others.
I am a Zionist because we have learned from North American multiculturalism that pride in one's heritage as a Jew, an Italian, a Greek, can provide essential, time-tested anchors in our me-me-me, my-my-my, more-more-more, now-now-now world.
I am a Zionist because in Israel we have learned that a country without a vision is like a person without a soul; a big-tent Zionism can inculcate values, fight corruption, reaffirm national unity, and restore a sense of mission.
I AM a Zionist because in our world of post-modern multi-dimensional identities, we don't have to be "either-ors", we can be "ands and buts" - a Zionist AND an American patriot; a secular Jew BUT also a Zionist. Just as some people living in Israel reject Zionism, meaning Jewish nationalism, Jews in the Diaspora can embrace it. To those who ask "How can you be a Zionist if you don't make aliya," I reply, "How will anyone make aliya without first being a Zionist?"
I am a Zionist because I am a democrat. The marriage of democracy and nationalism has produced great liberal democracies, including Israel, despite its democracy being tested under severe conditions.
I am a Zionist because I am an idealist. Just as a century ago, the notion of a viable, independent, sovereign Jewish state was an impossible dream - yet worth fighting for - so, too, today, the notion of a thriving, independent, sovereign Jewish state living in true peace with its neighbors appears to be an impossible dream - yet worth seeking.
I am a Zionist because I am a romantic. The story of the Jews rebuilding their homeland, reclaiming the desert, renewing themselves, was one of the 20th century's greatest epics, just as the narrative of the Jews maintaining their homeland, reconciling with the Arab world, renewing themselves, and serving as a light to others, a model nation state, could be one of this century's marvels. Yes, it sometimes sounds far-fetched. But, as Theodor Herzl, the father of modern Zionism, said in an idle boast that has become a cliche: "If you will it, it is no dream."
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University . He is the author of "Why I Am A Zionist: Israel, Jewish Identity and the Challenges of Today. This is an updated version of an essay he first wrote for Yom Ha'atzmaut 2001.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Remember civilians' extraordinary morale
Center Field: Remember civilians' extraordinary morale
Posted by Gil Troy
Jerusalem Post, Wednesday Feb 06, 2008
In early January, a small ceremony that balanced out the drama of the recent Winograd Commission pronouncements took place in the Israeli Air Force personnel offices, at "HaKiryah," IDF headquarters in downtown Tel Aviv. An Air Force colonel awarded certificates of appreciation to seven civilians who crisscrossed the country boosting soldier's morale during the Second Lebanon War. (Full disclosure: I was one of those honored, having played a minor role in the initiative).
The main honoree was Haim Avraham. Haim's son Benny Avraham, z"l and two other Israeli soldiers were supposedly kidnapped but actually killed by Hizbullah along the Lebanese border in 2000. As soon as the fighting broke out six years later, Haim mobilized his wife Edna, their two daughters, Efrat and Dafna, two colleagues from the Ramat Gan Histadrut, and others of us who helped the family during the torturous years when the Avraham, Avitan, and Souad families traveled the world trying to ascertain their sons' fate. Haim and his family recognized their symbolic role in this new war, having lost Benny under eerily similar circumstances. Thirteen times over the next six weeks they visited the Northern border and military bases throughout Israel, dispensing 250,000 shekels worth of donated soda, cigarettes, books, candy, underwear, and aftershave to comfort soldiers. More important, they hugged the soldiers and cried with them, giving them the priceless gift of a morale boost from a family that understood exactly why Israel needed to fight.
Haim considers the war "an important success," rejecting the Winograd Commission's labeling the war a failure. As a veteran who served in Golani, Battalion 13, and in the Air Force's cargo plane division for a quarter of a century, Haim acknowledges "there were problems, there were personnel issues, there were tactical mistakes." Still, he sees three central accomplishments. First, "we pushed back at Hizbullah, destroying much of the group's infrastructure, leveling Hizbullah headquarters, and restoring some deterrence." Second, "we built a consensus in Europe against Hizbullah, and now Hamas." Haim is thrilled that the United Nations Security Council put an international force in Southern Lebanon . Finally, "the support for Hizbullah in Lebanon weakened." A realist, Haim confesses: "We couldn't have achieved all our war aims without destroying Lebanon , so we stopped. Still, we bought some quiet for a few years."
According to Haim, while every war has a military element and a political element, another, equally important, element is "the morale of the people and of the army." This dimension the Winograd commission overlooked. It is essential during wartime to tell both soldiers and civilians that "we care about them, we think about them," Haim explains. "I thought I could give of myself, pay attention to the little things," he says. "What did I bring them? Nothing - but soldiers reacted to the fact that someone from the home front was paying attention, especially seeing that someone who had already paid the ultimate price understood exactly what the soldiers were doing. The soldier is working hard, eating the dust, breathing in the smoke. We met many right after battle exiting from Lebanon ," Haim recalls. "And make no mistake about it, war is war. Friends were killed near them. They exited dirty with sweat and mud, the smell of battle still hanging on them, looking at you through eyes that hadn’t slept all night. And then, all of a sudden, when the soldier sees a civilian who hugs him, it raises his morale. It reminds him what the fight is all about."
Haim is right. During the extraordinary day I spent with Haim and his merry band of morale raisers, I saw what Israel 's "Dr. Hug" could do. I saw all these tough, gruff battle-scarred recruits melt right back into the extremely young - and quite frightened - boys they are, when Haim hugged each and every one of them, at each and every stop.
Haim's initiative was one of hundreds of volunteer efforts that flourished during the summer of 2006. We forget amid this nearly-two-year orgy of recriminations how magnificently the "home front" performed. Secular and religious kids streamed up north, working together to help the people who had nowhere to go, as Israelis in the center and the south opened their homes - and hearts - to friends, relatives, and strangers, displaced by Hizbullah's hellish hail of Katyusha rockets.
These stories fill out the picture of the war. They do not compensate for the shoddy preparation, the equipment shortages, the air-force-heavy strategy, the hesitance to commit ground troops. Haim's analysis, focusing on the importance of morale, in fact highlights one of the Winograd commissions' most scandalous findings - that it took almost a month before the army issued a general order to deal with the Katyushas. This fact alone would justify calls for Ehud Olmert's resignation. Generals are paid to be arrogant, to dismiss Katyushas as military insignificant annoyances that should not distract from their mission. But healthy democracies need civilians in charge, with enough empathy for the people and standing with the army to redirect the military when generals minimize civilian suffering.
A government's primary function is protecting its people. Sadly, in the summer of 2006, Israel failed to fulfill that task for half a million civilians. Remembering, nevertheless, Israel 's successes - and Israel 's marvelous morale, one walks away not sugarcoating the results, but appreciating a fuller picture. The people outperformed their military and political leaders.
The magnificent people of Israel should get the kind of leadership they not only merit but that they earned with their acts of heroism, large and small, both military and civilian, during the Second Lebanon War - and at so many other points during these last 60 years,
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University . He is the author of Why I Am a Zionist: Israel , Jewish Identity and the Challenges of Today. His next book Leading from the Center: Why Moderates Make the Best Presidents, will be published by Basic Books this spring.
Posted by Gil Troy
Jerusalem Post, Wednesday Feb 06, 2008
In early January, a small ceremony that balanced out the drama of the recent Winograd Commission pronouncements took place in the Israeli Air Force personnel offices, at "HaKiryah," IDF headquarters in downtown Tel Aviv. An Air Force colonel awarded certificates of appreciation to seven civilians who crisscrossed the country boosting soldier's morale during the Second Lebanon War. (Full disclosure: I was one of those honored, having played a minor role in the initiative).
The main honoree was Haim Avraham. Haim's son Benny Avraham, z"l and two other Israeli soldiers were supposedly kidnapped but actually killed by Hizbullah along the Lebanese border in 2000. As soon as the fighting broke out six years later, Haim mobilized his wife Edna, their two daughters, Efrat and Dafna, two colleagues from the Ramat Gan Histadrut, and others of us who helped the family during the torturous years when the Avraham, Avitan, and Souad families traveled the world trying to ascertain their sons' fate. Haim and his family recognized their symbolic role in this new war, having lost Benny under eerily similar circumstances. Thirteen times over the next six weeks they visited the Northern border and military bases throughout Israel, dispensing 250,000 shekels worth of donated soda, cigarettes, books, candy, underwear, and aftershave to comfort soldiers. More important, they hugged the soldiers and cried with them, giving them the priceless gift of a morale boost from a family that understood exactly why Israel needed to fight.
Haim considers the war "an important success," rejecting the Winograd Commission's labeling the war a failure. As a veteran who served in Golani, Battalion 13, and in the Air Force's cargo plane division for a quarter of a century, Haim acknowledges "there were problems, there were personnel issues, there were tactical mistakes." Still, he sees three central accomplishments. First, "we pushed back at Hizbullah, destroying much of the group's infrastructure, leveling Hizbullah headquarters, and restoring some deterrence." Second, "we built a consensus in Europe against Hizbullah, and now Hamas." Haim is thrilled that the United Nations Security Council put an international force in Southern Lebanon . Finally, "the support for Hizbullah in Lebanon weakened." A realist, Haim confesses: "We couldn't have achieved all our war aims without destroying Lebanon , so we stopped. Still, we bought some quiet for a few years."
According to Haim, while every war has a military element and a political element, another, equally important, element is "the morale of the people and of the army." This dimension the Winograd commission overlooked. It is essential during wartime to tell both soldiers and civilians that "we care about them, we think about them," Haim explains. "I thought I could give of myself, pay attention to the little things," he says. "What did I bring them? Nothing - but soldiers reacted to the fact that someone from the home front was paying attention, especially seeing that someone who had already paid the ultimate price understood exactly what the soldiers were doing. The soldier is working hard, eating the dust, breathing in the smoke. We met many right after battle exiting from Lebanon ," Haim recalls. "And make no mistake about it, war is war. Friends were killed near them. They exited dirty with sweat and mud, the smell of battle still hanging on them, looking at you through eyes that hadn’t slept all night. And then, all of a sudden, when the soldier sees a civilian who hugs him, it raises his morale. It reminds him what the fight is all about."
Haim is right. During the extraordinary day I spent with Haim and his merry band of morale raisers, I saw what Israel 's "Dr. Hug" could do. I saw all these tough, gruff battle-scarred recruits melt right back into the extremely young - and quite frightened - boys they are, when Haim hugged each and every one of them, at each and every stop.
Haim's initiative was one of hundreds of volunteer efforts that flourished during the summer of 2006. We forget amid this nearly-two-year orgy of recriminations how magnificently the "home front" performed. Secular and religious kids streamed up north, working together to help the people who had nowhere to go, as Israelis in the center and the south opened their homes - and hearts - to friends, relatives, and strangers, displaced by Hizbullah's hellish hail of Katyusha rockets.
These stories fill out the picture of the war. They do not compensate for the shoddy preparation, the equipment shortages, the air-force-heavy strategy, the hesitance to commit ground troops. Haim's analysis, focusing on the importance of morale, in fact highlights one of the Winograd commissions' most scandalous findings - that it took almost a month before the army issued a general order to deal with the Katyushas. This fact alone would justify calls for Ehud Olmert's resignation. Generals are paid to be arrogant, to dismiss Katyushas as military insignificant annoyances that should not distract from their mission. But healthy democracies need civilians in charge, with enough empathy for the people and standing with the army to redirect the military when generals minimize civilian suffering.
A government's primary function is protecting its people. Sadly, in the summer of 2006, Israel failed to fulfill that task for half a million civilians. Remembering, nevertheless, Israel 's successes - and Israel 's marvelous morale, one walks away not sugarcoating the results, but appreciating a fuller picture. The people outperformed their military and political leaders.
The magnificent people of Israel should get the kind of leadership they not only merit but that they earned with their acts of heroism, large and small, both military and civilian, during the Second Lebanon War - and at so many other points during these last 60 years,
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University . He is the author of Why I Am a Zionist: Israel , Jewish Identity and the Challenges of Today. His next book Leading from the Center: Why Moderates Make the Best Presidents, will be published by Basic Books this spring.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
ISRAEL AT SIXTY: THE PERSISTENCE OF VISION
ISRAEL AT SIXTY: THE PERSISTENCE OF VISION
LET’S HAVE A SUBSTANTIVE, ZIONIST CELEBRATION OF ISRAEL’S 60th.
November 02, 2007,
http://www.israelatsixty.org.il/my_weblog/2007/11/lets-have-a-sub.html#comments
by Professor Gil Troy
How do we celebrate Israel’s 60th birthday? How do we mark Zionism’s great success and one of the twentieth century’s most redeeming moments?
When Rabbi David Hartman first came to Israel, he wondered what rituals secular Jews improvised to celebrate Israel’s Independence. On his first Yom Ha’atzmaut he visited an anti-religious kibbutz. He discovered a ghost town. Wandering around, he began sniffing something. Following the smell to the fields, he discovered mass mangal, group barbecues. Similarly, Americans celebrate their Independence on July 4th with picnics and firecrackers. To avoid mass indigestion and the occasional blasted-off finger, Zionists should celebrate Israel’s 60th anniversary with two classically Jewish activities: learning and arguing.
The learning should be straightforward, with the calendar as our guide.
The 90th anniversary of the Balfour Declaration on November 2, 1917, should remind us why it was so significant that the British Government, as described by Lord Arthur Balfour, viewed “with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people” – and why the Jewish people needed a Jewish state at all.
As we celebrate the 60th anniversary of the United Nations’ Partition Plan for Palestine on November 29, 1947, we should remember the joy that seized the Jewish world when the UN legitimized creating a Jewish state, even though this painful compromise deprived Jews of control over Jerusalem. By contrast, the Arabs rejected the compromise. In an historic interview in September (click here to see it), the Palestinian leader Mahmoud Abbas acknowledged what Israel’s supporters have known for a long time. Describing the 1947 partition plan, Abbas said: “we rejected this, so we lost.” The interviewer asked “You should have taken it?” He replied: “Yes, at that time, of course.”
All this learning will culminate in May when we celebrate Israel’s 60th birthday. Here, too, we should remember how vulnerable Israel was, how overwhelming it was to have seven Arab Armies attacking, but how important it was to have a free, proud, democratic and safe Jewish state, after 1900 years of exile.
While remembering our history, we must revitalize our ideology. On May 14, 1948, the 5th of Iyar, Zionism succeeded, creating a state. Since then the question has been: what now? We in the Zionist movement have to use this 60th anniversary to trigger a Zionist renewal, creating a moment of mass redefinition that reaffirms the Jewish commitment to Jewish nationalism while charting a path for a twenty-first century Zionism as an answer to our needs today. We should start arguing, respectfully, passionately, thoughtfully about what the Zionist idea means to us.
In this month’s Atlantic Monthly dozens of prominent Americans describe the “future of the American idea” in 300 words (click here to read the article). The result is a dazzling display of celebrations and condemnations, disappointments and visions, ideas and suggestions. We should undertake a similar exercise – but at the grassroots. We can ask some professors and politicians, intellectuals and entertainers to address the idea. But we should also have Jews from around the world, write out their “ani ma’min,” their Zionist “I believe” and convene in small salons across the world to compare notes and refine them. Everyone connected to the Zionist movement should undertake to host one evening with ten friends who are simply willing to talk about Israel, Zionism, and Jewish peoplehood for an hour. These ideas and new visions should then be summarized and posted on the Web.
To celebrate Israel’s 60th anniversary, we need to find the “I” in Zionism. We need to develop a language that culturally, professionally, morally, practically, brings Israel, Zionism, communal values into our lives today. This is not the Zionism of yesteryear which was us-oriented and historical. We have to figure out a more me-oriented, present-minded, what-have-you-done-for-me-lately, why-should-I-carve-out-my-time-in-my-schedule-for-this, 21st century Zionism.
Anniversaries, both personal and communal, are great opportunities to look back and forward. We appreciate what was, celebrate what is, and build what will be. Now is the time for a massive new Zionism re-engagement, a renewed passion and vision about the centrality of Jewish peoplehood and Israel in our lives. We are blessed to be living in the era of the Third Jewish Commonwealth. Let’s start a conversation about we can all benefit from the Zionist idea – and the charming and sometimes challenging Israeli realities.
P.S. In 2001 I made my own attempt at an “Ani Ma’amin” with my essay “Why I Am A Zionist” which you can read by clicking here .
I invite anyone who is interested to help by translating the essay into languages other than English.
LET’S HAVE A SUBSTANTIVE, ZIONIST CELEBRATION OF ISRAEL’S 60th.
November 02, 2007,
http://www.israelatsixty.org.il/my_weblog/2007/11/lets-have-a-sub.html#comments
by Professor Gil Troy
How do we celebrate Israel’s 60th birthday? How do we mark Zionism’s great success and one of the twentieth century’s most redeeming moments?
When Rabbi David Hartman first came to Israel, he wondered what rituals secular Jews improvised to celebrate Israel’s Independence. On his first Yom Ha’atzmaut he visited an anti-religious kibbutz. He discovered a ghost town. Wandering around, he began sniffing something. Following the smell to the fields, he discovered mass mangal, group barbecues. Similarly, Americans celebrate their Independence on July 4th with picnics and firecrackers. To avoid mass indigestion and the occasional blasted-off finger, Zionists should celebrate Israel’s 60th anniversary with two classically Jewish activities: learning and arguing.
The learning should be straightforward, with the calendar as our guide.
The 90th anniversary of the Balfour Declaration on November 2, 1917, should remind us why it was so significant that the British Government, as described by Lord Arthur Balfour, viewed “with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people” – and why the Jewish people needed a Jewish state at all.
As we celebrate the 60th anniversary of the United Nations’ Partition Plan for Palestine on November 29, 1947, we should remember the joy that seized the Jewish world when the UN legitimized creating a Jewish state, even though this painful compromise deprived Jews of control over Jerusalem. By contrast, the Arabs rejected the compromise. In an historic interview in September (click here to see it), the Palestinian leader Mahmoud Abbas acknowledged what Israel’s supporters have known for a long time. Describing the 1947 partition plan, Abbas said: “we rejected this, so we lost.” The interviewer asked “You should have taken it?” He replied: “Yes, at that time, of course.”
All this learning will culminate in May when we celebrate Israel’s 60th birthday. Here, too, we should remember how vulnerable Israel was, how overwhelming it was to have seven Arab Armies attacking, but how important it was to have a free, proud, democratic and safe Jewish state, after 1900 years of exile.
While remembering our history, we must revitalize our ideology. On May 14, 1948, the 5th of Iyar, Zionism succeeded, creating a state. Since then the question has been: what now? We in the Zionist movement have to use this 60th anniversary to trigger a Zionist renewal, creating a moment of mass redefinition that reaffirms the Jewish commitment to Jewish nationalism while charting a path for a twenty-first century Zionism as an answer to our needs today. We should start arguing, respectfully, passionately, thoughtfully about what the Zionist idea means to us.
In this month’s Atlantic Monthly dozens of prominent Americans describe the “future of the American idea” in 300 words (click here to read the article). The result is a dazzling display of celebrations and condemnations, disappointments and visions, ideas and suggestions. We should undertake a similar exercise – but at the grassroots. We can ask some professors and politicians, intellectuals and entertainers to address the idea. But we should also have Jews from around the world, write out their “ani ma’min,” their Zionist “I believe” and convene in small salons across the world to compare notes and refine them. Everyone connected to the Zionist movement should undertake to host one evening with ten friends who are simply willing to talk about Israel, Zionism, and Jewish peoplehood for an hour. These ideas and new visions should then be summarized and posted on the Web.
To celebrate Israel’s 60th anniversary, we need to find the “I” in Zionism. We need to develop a language that culturally, professionally, morally, practically, brings Israel, Zionism, communal values into our lives today. This is not the Zionism of yesteryear which was us-oriented and historical. We have to figure out a more me-oriented, present-minded, what-have-you-done-for-me-lately, why-should-I-carve-out-my-time-in-my-schedule-for-this, 21st century Zionism.
Anniversaries, both personal and communal, are great opportunities to look back and forward. We appreciate what was, celebrate what is, and build what will be. Now is the time for a massive new Zionism re-engagement, a renewed passion and vision about the centrality of Jewish peoplehood and Israel in our lives. We are blessed to be living in the era of the Third Jewish Commonwealth. Let’s start a conversation about we can all benefit from the Zionist idea – and the charming and sometimes challenging Israeli realities.
P.S. In 2001 I made my own attempt at an “Ani Ma’amin” with my essay “Why I Am A Zionist” which you can read by clicking here .
I invite anyone who is interested to help by translating the essay into languages other than English.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Israelis take stock of their middle-aged state
By Gil Troy, Canadian Jewish News, May 25, 2007
Like vigorous baby boomers who wonder whether their current good health or inevitable decline is the more defining reality, Israelis celebrated their country’s 59th anniversary uncertain about the state of their state.
Like vigorous baby boomers who wonder whether their current good health or inevitable decline is the more defining reality, Israelis celebrated their country’s 59th anniversary uncertain about the state of their state.
From the outside, Iranians’ and Palestinians’ genocidal threats – reinforced by a relentless assault on
Yet, this supposedly dysfunctional society is remarkably functional. Palestinian terrorism has been reduced, with the improved security restoring
The magic numbers four billion, 3,186,739, 257,000, 9.2 and 2.7 quantify
• Billionaire Warren Buffett spent $4 billion buying Iscar, part of foreigners’ $23.7 billion investment in
• In a country of seven million people, 3,186,739 Israelis voted in the 2006 election, the
•
• The percentage of the Israeli economy devoted to the non-profit sector – 9.2 per cent, ranking the county fourth worldwide – illustrates Israelis’ exceptional commitment to charity, volunteering, and tikkun olam, fixing the world.
• Finally, the Israeli Jewish birthrate of 2.7 children per woman represents the highest rate among developed countries. More than 100,000 new babies last year joined a future-oriented, family-friendly, community-building, values-rich society.
Still, the country faces serious problems, many of which are
While
Whatever explanation people offer for the corruption contagion,
Modern Israelis, like so many of us, are the children of modern consumerism, with television-compressed attention spans and iPod-induced self-involvement that’s balanced out by computer-fed creativity and connectivity. Israelis have to develop a communal ethos that cultivates modern individualism and ingenuity without abandoning a sense of national mission and idealism.
For a people battered recently and historically, the ability to be normal is quite exceptional. Living well truly is the best revenge, a repudiation of Nazi exterminationism as well as Palestinian terrorism. Israelis do and should delight in sharing their modern dilemmas with fellow westerners. At the same time, this celebration of normalcy and the powerful realities of daily living should not eclipse the special dimensions of Israeli life or the country’s unique challenges, even though they appear to Israelis living through them as quite normal, or at least familiar.
The Zionist revolution built on Jews’ exceptional history and sense of togetherness while promoting a vision of national normalcy. Modern
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Darfur: silence is consent
Canadian Jewish News, April 26, 2007
Nearly three years later, more than 300,000 have been murdered, and we are still tut-tutting. True, there is enough Darfur awareness that people who want to telegraph their humanitarian bona fides invoke
I used to criticize
Fortunately, some of my students still believe they can change the world, or at least stop the slaughter. One, Evan Malach, organized “The Amazing Benefit Concert for
These initiatives are lovely, creative, inspiring, but will they help? Three years from now, will Evan, Josh and their allies look back as I do on my essay, with an overwhelming sense of failure drowning out what little pride they can muster because they, at least, tried? The answer lies not with them but with the rest of us.
We are overdue for a massive mobilization. We should write letters, make phone calls, contributing our time, efforts, creativity however we can. We should pressure western governments to sanction the Sudanese dictatorship, which facilitates the
We also should help single-issue advocacy organizations connect the dots between their concerns and
The ’60s cliché applies: silence is consent. True,
Sunday, April 22, 2007
The Great Diaspora Dilemma: To Criticize or Not to Criticize
By Gil Troy
THE JEWISH TRIBUNE, April 19, 2007, p.5
To criticize or not to criticize, that is the great Diaspora dilemma. Those of us deeply engaged in Israel , viewing Zionism as the Jewish national liberation movement, seek ever more involvement in Israeli life. We recognize that the state of our homeland will determine our Jewish future. We know that true love, for countries and individuals, involves seeing the warts as well as the wonders, so we can demand better. Why should we silence ourselves, refraining from criticizing the Jewish state?
At the same time, we Diaspora Jews vote with our feet, choosing not to participate fully in our great national Jewish adventure by living elsewhere. We give what we choose not what we must. We do not pay taxes to the third Jewish Commonwealth. We do not vote in the first Jewish democracy. We and our children do not serve in the modern Jewish army. Given our limited, voluntary investment in blood, sweat, and tears, how dare we dictate decisions about Israel ’s borders, about life and death questions plaguing Israel ’s citizens?
Extremes on the left and the right have been myopic, inconsistent. Traditionally, right-wingers supported Israel “right or wrong,” demonizing dissenters. Starting with the Oslo years, and peaking with the Gaza Disengagement, many Diaspora rightists denounced Israel and the Israeli Army. Meanwhile, too many leftist Jews are what others have called “proud to be ashamed to be Jewish.” These people only identify publicly as Jews to criticize Israel – often viciously.
We could all use some Vitamin “H” – humility. Like all armchair statesman and laptop warriors, I have strong opinions about Israel ’s borders, Israel ’s relations with the Palestinians, Israel ’s strengths and flaws. I happily share them at my dinner table. But even there – and certainly in public – I am humbled by my choice not to put my life, or my kids’ lives, on the line. I do not think it is proper for me to preach to our Israeli brothers and sisters where to draw the line between themselves and their enemies. Under Israel ’s Law of Return I can acquire citizenship instantly and plunge into the debate wholeheartedly. Until that day comes, I choose to stay humble, to keep my opinions on this complicated, existential issue private.
My instincts to be humble are reinforced by the fact that we are not operating in an honest environment. Israel has been subjected to a vicious, disproportionate ideological assault. I am loathe to join the pile-on, and I loathe those who do pile on, attacking Israel without acknowledging Israel’s search for peace, Israel’s willingness to compromise, Israel’s right to self-defense. So I defend Israel ardently, without an asterisk, without feeling constrained by my decision to sit out the border debate, for now. There are so many bigger issues concerning the Palestinians’ immoral decision to turn from negotiations to terror, the world’s amoral acquiescence, the toxicity of Palestinian political culture, the one-sided application of human rights law, the travesty the United Nations has become, the tragedy of Arab autocracy and rejectionism. All these make whatever mistakes Israel has made pale in comparison.
Still, as someone passionately committed to Israel ’s future, for my sake, for my kids’ sake, for my people’s sake, I have no problem criticizing Israel constructively, appropriately, empathetically. I mourn the growing gap between rich and poor, the weakening education system, the epidemic political corruption, Israeli intellectuals’ self-loathing and hypercritical behavior, the Rabbinate’s ham-handed policies which have alienated generations of Israelis, Israeli secular culture’s materialistic paganism, the social, economic, and educational inequities afflicting Israeli Arabs, the harshness of Israeli political culture and street life. All those problems keep my critical faculties more than engaged. Of course, they are balanced out by my wonder at Israelis’ personal generosity, warmth in hospitality, cultural creativity, improvisational entrepreneurship; my appreciation for the remarkable attempts to plant liberal ideas of democracy, liberty, equality in the Middle East’s rocky soil, for the richness of Jewish life throughout the country, and for the idealism, altruism, courage, and humanity I witnessed last summer during the war against Hezbollah..
Thus, just as I avoid opining publicly on military matters, given my fortunate ignorance and insulation from such concerns, I feel particularly emboldened to ply my expertise as both critic and cheerleader when it comes to fostering a vibrant modern Jewish identity, building an effective and humane democracy, nurturing a muscular but moderate middle path. Just as we all could spend more time emphasizing Israel ’s accomplishments not Israel ’s mistakes, we all should spend more time focusing on those areas where our standing is clear, our input constructive, our expertise helpful. North American Jews justifiably bristle when some Israelis cross the Atlantic to lecture us that our communities are dying or that we are not fully realized Jews in the Diaspora. We should extend to Israelis the same courtesy we demand from them.
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University and the author of Why I Am A Zionist: Israel, Jewish Identity, and the Challenges of Today.
THE JEWISH TRIBUNE, April 19, 2007, p.5
To criticize or not to criticize, that is the great Diaspora dilemma. Those of us deeply engaged in Israel , viewing Zionism as the Jewish national liberation movement, seek ever more involvement in Israeli life. We recognize that the state of our homeland will determine our Jewish future. We know that true love, for countries and individuals, involves seeing the warts as well as the wonders, so we can demand better. Why should we silence ourselves, refraining from criticizing the Jewish state?
At the same time, we Diaspora Jews vote with our feet, choosing not to participate fully in our great national Jewish adventure by living elsewhere. We give what we choose not what we must. We do not pay taxes to the third Jewish Commonwealth. We do not vote in the first Jewish democracy. We and our children do not serve in the modern Jewish army. Given our limited, voluntary investment in blood, sweat, and tears, how dare we dictate decisions about Israel ’s borders, about life and death questions plaguing Israel ’s citizens?
Extremes on the left and the right have been myopic, inconsistent. Traditionally, right-wingers supported Israel “right or wrong,” demonizing dissenters. Starting with the Oslo years, and peaking with the Gaza Disengagement, many Diaspora rightists denounced Israel and the Israeli Army. Meanwhile, too many leftist Jews are what others have called “proud to be ashamed to be Jewish.” These people only identify publicly as Jews to criticize Israel – often viciously.
We could all use some Vitamin “H” – humility. Like all armchair statesman and laptop warriors, I have strong opinions about Israel ’s borders, Israel ’s relations with the Palestinians, Israel ’s strengths and flaws. I happily share them at my dinner table. But even there – and certainly in public – I am humbled by my choice not to put my life, or my kids’ lives, on the line. I do not think it is proper for me to preach to our Israeli brothers and sisters where to draw the line between themselves and their enemies. Under Israel ’s Law of Return I can acquire citizenship instantly and plunge into the debate wholeheartedly. Until that day comes, I choose to stay humble, to keep my opinions on this complicated, existential issue private.
My instincts to be humble are reinforced by the fact that we are not operating in an honest environment. Israel has been subjected to a vicious, disproportionate ideological assault. I am loathe to join the pile-on, and I loathe those who do pile on, attacking Israel without acknowledging Israel’s search for peace, Israel’s willingness to compromise, Israel’s right to self-defense. So I defend Israel ardently, without an asterisk, without feeling constrained by my decision to sit out the border debate, for now. There are so many bigger issues concerning the Palestinians’ immoral decision to turn from negotiations to terror, the world’s amoral acquiescence, the toxicity of Palestinian political culture, the one-sided application of human rights law, the travesty the United Nations has become, the tragedy of Arab autocracy and rejectionism. All these make whatever mistakes Israel has made pale in comparison.
Still, as someone passionately committed to Israel ’s future, for my sake, for my kids’ sake, for my people’s sake, I have no problem criticizing Israel constructively, appropriately, empathetically. I mourn the growing gap between rich and poor, the weakening education system, the epidemic political corruption, Israeli intellectuals’ self-loathing and hypercritical behavior, the Rabbinate’s ham-handed policies which have alienated generations of Israelis, Israeli secular culture’s materialistic paganism, the social, economic, and educational inequities afflicting Israeli Arabs, the harshness of Israeli political culture and street life. All those problems keep my critical faculties more than engaged. Of course, they are balanced out by my wonder at Israelis’ personal generosity, warmth in hospitality, cultural creativity, improvisational entrepreneurship; my appreciation for the remarkable attempts to plant liberal ideas of democracy, liberty, equality in the Middle East’s rocky soil, for the richness of Jewish life throughout the country, and for the idealism, altruism, courage, and humanity I witnessed last summer during the war against Hezbollah..
Thus, just as I avoid opining publicly on military matters, given my fortunate ignorance and insulation from such concerns, I feel particularly emboldened to ply my expertise as both critic and cheerleader when it comes to fostering a vibrant modern Jewish identity, building an effective and humane democracy, nurturing a muscular but moderate middle path. Just as we all could spend more time emphasizing Israel ’s accomplishments not Israel ’s mistakes, we all should spend more time focusing on those areas where our standing is clear, our input constructive, our expertise helpful. North American Jews justifiably bristle when some Israelis cross the Atlantic to lecture us that our communities are dying or that we are not fully realized Jews in the Diaspora. We should extend to Israelis the same courtesy we demand from them.
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University and the author of Why I Am A Zionist: Israel, Jewish Identity, and the Challenges of Today.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
REMEMBER THE VICTIMS OF TERROR AT THE SEDER:
Note: Unfortunately, this is the seventh year in a row that I feel compelled to circulate this call (the text is updated.....) best wishes for a happy and peaceful pesach, Gil Troy
Once again, during this year's seders, we will celebrate our joyous holiday of liberation with heavy hearts. Even as we revel in our freedom as Jews in the modern world, even as we marvel at Israel 's strength and tenacity in the wake of a terrorist onslaught, too many of our brothers and sisters in Israel are in pain. This year, in particular, as we think of three Israeli hostages and their families, truly in a Mitzraim, in dire straits, and as we think of more than one hundred civilians and soldiers murdered this summer, we must rise to the challenge to reclaim our symbols, to remember our losses, to reaffirm our commitment to Israel, to the Jewish people, and to a true peace.
In the bloody, unnecessary war begun when the Palestinians turned away from negotiations toward violence, too many died, too many have been injured, on both sides. And too many seders now have empty chairs - missing husbands, fathers, brothers, sons; missing wives, mothers, sisters, daughters.
The power of the seder - which remains one of the most popular of Jewish ceremonies - comes from its ritualization of memory. It is a most primal, most sensual, most literal, of services. The seder plate - with its representations of the mortar used in building, the charoset, and of the tears shed by the slaves, the salt water - helps us visualize the trauma of slavery.
The physical acts of reclining, of eating special foods, of standing to greet Elijah the prophet, help us feel the joy of Yetziat Mitzrayim, of leaving Egypt . And, in an affirmation of the importance of peoplehood, we mark this special moment not as individuals but as a community.
In that spirit, we cannot proceed with business as usual during these difficult times. We must improvise a new ritual that marks our present pain, that illustrates our vital connection with Israel and with Israelis today. Let each of us, as we gather at our seders, intrude on our own celebrations by leaving one setting untouched, by having one empty chair at our table.
Let us take a moment to reflect on our losses from these terrible six-and-a-half years, for even as stability has returned, terror attempts continue, freshly dug graves pockmark the Holy Land , and the mourning for those lost persists. And as we reflect, let us not just remember the dead as hundreds of nameless and faceless people, but let us personalize them. Let us take the time to find out the name of one victim of the current conflict, one Jew who cannot celebrate this year's holiday, one family in mourning.
Let us call out the names of Gilad Shalit, a 19-year-old with a shy smile, kidnapped by Hamas on the Gaza border in July; and that of Ehud Goldwasser, a 31-year-old engineer, and Eldad Regev, a 26-year-old pre-law student, kidnapped by Hezbollah just south of Lebanon. "This year we won't celebrate Pesach," Gilad's father Noam has said. "Pesach is about freedom, and we don't have that in our hearts. We want Gilad to return from imprisonment to freedom. It's been nine months, and we're not giving up."
Let us call out the name of Yaniv Bar-On, the 20-year-old son of a South African father and a Canadian mother, ambushed while trying to save Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev from Hezbollah's clutches, of Roi Klein, 31, a father of two, who jumped on a grenade crying "Shma Yisrael," Hear O' Israel, sacrificing his life to save his troops from certain death, and of Omer Pesachov, 7, and his grandmother, Yehudit Itzkovich, 58, who fled Nahariya one morning at the start of this summer's war, only to be bombed in Moshav Miron later that evening as the family prepared to welcome the Shabbat, the Sabbath.
Remembering earlier victims, let us call out the name of Benny Avraham, age 20, one of three young Israelis murdered by Hezbollah in a failed kidnapping in October 2000, whose body was kept frozen as the sadistic terrorists toyed with the emotions of the three grieving families - and people of conscience throughout the world.
Let us call out the name of Koby Mandell, age 13, a young American immigrant brutally killed in May, 2001, whose father, Rabbi Seth Mandell, talks about the empty seat at his Shabbat table and shares the pain of watching other boys grow up, watching their voices deepen, their shoulders broaden, their gaits quicken, even as his son lies dead.
Let us call out the names of Ernest and Eva Weiss, aged 80 and 75, residents of Petach Tikvah who survived Nazi concentration camps only to be slaughtered while sitting down for the Pesach Seder at the Park Hotel exactly five years ago, Pesach, 2002.
Let us call out the names of Maryam Attar, 27, Kamar Abu Hamed, 12, Abigail Leitel, 14, Mordechai Hersko, 41, and his son Tom Hershko, 15, a Muslim, a Druze, a Baptist, and two Jews, among the 17 murdered in Haifa just over four years ago on March 5, 2003.
And as we condemn modern-day Pharoahs in Iran and elsewhere, as we recoil from the worldwide scourge of anti-Semitism this terrorism also unleashed, let us call out the names of Ilan Halimi, the 23-year-old French Jew cellphone salesman kidnapped, tortured and murdered in a Parisian suburb by anti-Semitic thugs last year, and of Daniel Pearl, the 38-year-old Wall Street Journal reporter kidnapped, then murdered, in Pakistan almost exactly four years earlier.
As we call out these names, let us vow to do what we can to bring the three hostages home. As we call out these names, let us commit to some action, to embrace the families of the victims - the thousand who died and the nearly ten thousand who were injured. As we call out these names, let us commit to building a friendship with Israel and Israelis which is not just about politics, and not solely about mourning and memory.
And as we call out these names, unlike too many of our enemies, let us not call for vengeance, let us not call for more bloodshed. Instead, as we mourn, let us hope; as we remember the many lives lost during this crazy and pointless war, let us pray ever more intensely for a just and lasting peace.
For more Infomation visit:
http://togetherwithisrael.org
Information about many of the Israelis killed in the current violence can be found at
the Israeli Foreign Ministry's Web site:
http://www.mfa.gov.il/mfa/home.asp Click on
Terrorism -- Terror since 2000 - In Memory of the Victims of Palestinian Violence
and Terrorismn.
Ideas about how to help families of victims can be found at
http://www.onefamilyfund.org/index.asp
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University and the author of
"Why I Am A Zionist: Israel, Jewish Identity and the Challenges of Today."
ISRAEL'S CRITICS PROTEST TOO MUCH
New York Jewish Week, 3-23-07
So far this year, Iran continues threatening Israel and America while seeking nuclear weapons. Palestinian terrorists temporarily stopped fighting each other in Gaza to murder Israelis in Eilat and plan other crimes the Israeli army thwarted. The Nation of Islam's Louis Farrakhan endorsed one book alleging Jews controlled the slave trade, one book claiming Jews control America 's banks, and Jimmy Carter's bestseller falsely accusing Israel of "Apartheid." And, across the Arab world, numerous cartoons criticizing Israel 's Mugrahbi Gate repairs in Jerusalem depicted Jews as hooked-nose demons.
Amid all this, what outraged many Progressive Jews, prompting denunciations in the New York Times, the New Republic, the Boston Globe, and the Forward? Professor Alvin Rosenfeld's short American Jewish Committee (AJC) pamphlet: "Progressive Jewish Thought and the New Anti-Semitism." This brouhaha over a careful scholar's attempt to define when disparaging Israel and Zionism goes "well beyond legitimate criticism" to feed modern anti-Semitism illustrates the techniques too many of these Progressives - not all - use when anyone dares criticize them.
The New York Times' January 31 article which triggered the controversy began by incorrectly calling the AJC a "conservative advocacy group." This signaled to the Times' overwhelmingly liberal readership that the AJC approach to anti-Semitism would be a McCarthyite hatchet job. The Times eventually issued a correction that the AJC's "stance on issues ranges across the political spectrum." This vague correction preserved the impression that the AJC takes conservative positions - like what, opposing anti-Semitism and terrorism? When did opposing anti-Semitism become conservative?
Beyond demonizing, a second technique is to caricature. Thus a Boston Globe op-ed proclaimed: "All Critics of Israel Aren't Anti-Semites." Professor Rosenfeld made that point in his essay. At the Global Forum Against Anti-Semitism held in Jerusalem that week, Israel 's Foreign Minister Tsipi Livni - and almost every other speaker - distinguished between legitimate criticism and anti-Semitism too. Still, these nuanced stands did not prevent the charge that Rosenfeld and the AJC were demonizing "all" critics.
Finally, rather than treating the essay as an honest analysis of a painful, complex issue, critics accused the AJC of stifling the debate. Such hysteria makes intellectuals look spoiled, thin-skinned and brittle. Best-selling authors like Noam Chomsky or billionaires like George Soros ritualistically applaud their own bravery and pretend they are lonely voices when joining the trendy intellectual pile-on against Israel . How it is that people who viciously criticize Israel and Zionism, who lecture the Jewish world about tolerating diverse opinions, suddenly cannot stomach vigorous debate when they ar criticized? Nothing in the AJC essay advocates hate laws, suppressing free speech, shunning, or any other intimidation. Professor Rosenfeld did what thinkers are supposed to do - identify, catalogue, analyze, explain, and challenge.
Israel's supporters are used to being criticized for criticizing critics. Natan Sharansky, the former Soviet dissident, has argued that disproportionate, demonizing language, judging Israel by a double-standard and singularly delegitimizing Israel, crosses a red line, feeding anti-Semitism not "just" anti-Zionism. The question is one of proportionality and judgment: it is bizarre to feel more threatened by Alvin Rosenfeld than by Mahmoud Ahmadinejad just as it is disreputable to compare Israelis to Nazis while ignoring Palestinian terrorism, Arab anti-Semitism, Iranian calls to genocide.
Unfortunately, too many Progressives have been silent about modern anti-Semitism, just as many of those same Progressives have been strangely silent in the fight against the broader Jihadist agenda. The New York Times recently quoted a New York area Hillel rabbi foolishly claiming that "The question about radical Islam and how do we fight it is unproductive. The question is how to break down the stereotypes facing the two religions." Not everything can be solved with diversity training. Progressives lose credibility when they domesticate the lethal Jihadist threat by reducing it to an all-American problem of group dynamics.
Here, then, is a way out of the impasse. Israel's critics could confuse the issue constructively, if they denounced modern anti-Semitism as vehemently as they object to any suggestions that their words might encourage the Jihadists. Let these Progressive critics spend some of the political capital they earned in criticizing Israel to demand that Palestinian textbooks no longer incorporate libels from the "Protocols of the Elders of Zion," that Arab cartoons and television programs avoid ugly Nazi stereotypes of devilish, money-hungry Jews, that international bodies sanction Iran's president for threatening to "wipe out" a legitimate member of the United Nations. And let these critics take a page from their own Progressive Jewish movement, which has repudiated Israeli policy with the powerful phrase: "Not In My Name." We need Israel 's critics, Jewish and non-Jewish, proclaiming to anti-Semites far and wide: "Not In My Name," demanding, "do not take my criticism of Israel policies to be used to target Jews or question's Israel 's legitimacy."
The necessary fight against anti-Semitism should not be misconstrued as endorsing Israeli policies, just as you need not love George W. Bush to hate Islamicism. The fight against anti-Semitism, like the fight against Islamicism, must not be imprisoned in our usual left-right paradigm. A broad-based condemnation of anti-Semitism and eliminationist Anti-Zionism should be a positive first step in reinvigorating a wide coalition for freedom and against bigotry.
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University and the author of "Why I Am A Zionist: Israel , Jewish Identity and the Challenges of Today."
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