Recently, a joke was made, a stupid one, thoughtless, about prejudice, particularly re antisemitism, replete with underlying approval and acceptance of justified reasons for it. I do not know if the person knew that I am Jewish, while it was obvious that my companion of the moment was Asian American. I must say though that I hate this emphasis on origin unless doing genealogical research for we are all, each and every one of us - American. Period. One is American, not a hyphenate. Uncomfortable, yet unwilling to create a seen, I replied, with obvious distaste and a bad taste in my mouth and head, replied, "Been there, done that, not willing go there again." My young companion said, "I hear you." After reading much of late of bias against Asian Americans, I saw the truth of it.
What can I say? Is it inborn, part of being human, that we hate others? Or is it the teachings we have internalized from those around us? Is it a combination of factors? Whatever the reason, there is no reason to keep up with the Joneses of this arena. We think of ourselves, our world, as advanced, civilized, and yet hatred of others is a primitive emotion, a false premise leading only to negativity and dire consequences. Whether the hater or the hated, the ultimate result is ugly and tragic in so many ways. It is irrational, contagious, and explosive. And at its most basic, is unwarranted, wasteful, and extremely detrimental to and for all.
That being said, how can I generate an understanding of my intense fear of antisemitism, a fear that drowns other biases in its immense bloody ocean of ongoing, eternal tragedy. It is now 2600 years since being ripped from our Promised Land. For 2600 years we prayed for a return, and many did so over the centuries, refuting the false premise that we had abandoned any connection to it. Even as illogically, at one and the same time, we were accused of dual loyalty, traitors, even as we died in their armies.
And yes, always there was and is an eternal longing for a land of our own; even in the horror of concentration camps, the words of the prayer to return to Zion were painted on the wall of a hidden synagogue, defying the promise of death when discovered. And why not, as we were dispossessed, denied citizenship in countries where we had lived for centuries, denied membership in the human race, good only for slavery, for death, for scapegoating, medical experiment, as playthings to be killed at a whim, our children smashed and brutalized beyond any concept of understanding, any scrap of decency, of humanity, led by what was called the "most civilized country of the times".
The other countries? They played follow the leader with glee, with blood smeared up to their shoulders while a pitiful minority engaged in the dangerous life of resisters as they smuggled Jews to relative safety and refuge as best they could. To them, an eternal gratitude.
Recently, studies have shown how trauma, particularly trauma of hateful directed trauma, can be, is, genetically passed on to the next generations. Is it then any wonder that Jews for centuries have had this necessity to always keep their eyes open - front, back and side? For the rather telling 'joke' that a smart Jew keeps his papers up to date, while a wise Jew keeps them in his pocket, always at the ready. Bitter, but this is the cumulative trauma of generations from times of antiquity to the present and what- the future? Personally, I think, as do many, many others, people far wiser than I, that the future is now, early arrival, or most true - never having left - as ugly as ever. We sit on tenterhooks, wondering if we should have left already. Are we hesitating too long, be caught in the net of death as were the Jews of Europe? Will there be no refuge even as it was denied during those years? Will America discard me?
These are the truths of the inner Jew, the ones who acknowledge within and without or try to deny, hide their identity as Jews. It is with great difficulty that one lives with constant threat of possibility, even a probability. Truly, there is only one place to go. It is a land where violence can strike, where parents know that their children, grandchildren, will march off to an eternal war, as they did because apparently the world has decided thousands of years ago that there is no room at the inn for Jews on this earth. Denied a right for a place of their own, they must fight for what is taken for granted in other nations.
Many are now looking askance at Israel, at the debate raging. There is great fear that the nation will split once again, history repeating itself as Jews fight amongst themselves. Two Temples lost for hatred between brothers. Must we replay the whole damned scene? In front of the world?? Yet even or despite that fear, I and thousands of Jews are either buying homes in Israel, or seriously contemplating doing so. Why? Because it is home, the place which will always take you in. Acceptance. Refuge. Where dying as a Jew is a brave thought.
True it is, that in all my years I have never seen this degree of civil dissatisfaction and blatant animosity of Jews towards Jews. As too many forget that we are all in the same rather leaky rowboat and all hands are needed to bail and row, together, in unity, else the boat will go down.
However, there are several points of hope, of recognition of a shared identity. Here are two apocryphal anecdotes, true in differing manner.
Two Jews in a ghost village build four synagogues. One each where they pray. One each where they pray when upset with their first synagogue. And one they share as the synagogue they will never, ever, enter. After their services, they meet at one house, shake hands, wish the other a greeting for the Sabbath or holiday, and break bread and share songs, a meal, as friends.
Another. Two Jews are on line, tortured, bare skeletons, death imminent yet they argue. Is Ani Ma'amin, a song of faith that things will be better, if not now then in the future, or is the Shema, a traditional last prayer of Jews before death. Which to recite. And the crowd of fellow religious Jews listen intently, for these are two well known rabbinical figures. They argue vociferously as if the world depended on the outcome - perhaps it did. Suddenly they realize they are at the doorway of death, dying as have millions of Jews in sanctification of the Name, Jews. Suddenly they are quiet, and in the last moments before the gas pours out, they turn to each other, grasp hands and say, "Amcha". You are my people,". Hands are held as death came in gasping choking clouds of death.
But-Amcha.
Now we come to modern Israel. Generations of being prey. Generations of being chased from pillar to post and then denied even the post. Generations of trauma. And here we are. And here are the words of an iconic song of Israel, written by Ehud Manor, which clearly describes the people, their determination, their understanding of the reality of things, their determination to survive or go out trying. There is no other way. Why? Because -
" Ayn Li Eretz Acheret." I Have No Other Land". Bittersweet. Depressing. Defying. Inspiring. Truth.
While the Hebrew words are more powerful, the English will suffice for the purpose. Sung in plaintive tone, powerful indeed, in message.
I have no other country.
Even if my land is aflame.
Just a word in Hebrew pierces
My veins and my soul.
With a painful body, a hungry heart,
Here is my home.
I will not stay silent because my country
Changed her face.
I will not give up.
Reminding her,
and sing in her ears.
Until she will open her eyes
Until she will renew her glorious day
Then repeat the chorus, of determination and resignation: there is NO other place. This is my first, last, and only thing to do- improve my country, see her and her citizens live in peace, even as I stand loyal, always, even unto death, through all that she is, should be and will be. Forever. For always. I have no other country, no other land.
It is the determined knowing stand of an embattled, besieged people.
Enough. Enough!!
I have been privileged during my lifetime to have been befriended by so many, Jew and non-Jew alike. I have seen, lived through great accomplishments achieved via co-operation and acceptance of each other, of our shared peoplehood. I know the power of the prayers so many, Jew and non-Jew, have been making for Yitzy, my grandson who has had a tough week.
Together, we can change this world. Together we can put aside the hate, the violence, try our best to be the best.
Together. B'yachad.
Together. Together. Together.
Together we can
HEAL THE WORLD.
HEAL YITZY!
Yitzchak Elimelech ben Chana Sarah
May he be granted refuah shelaymah bimheyrah beyameinu.
AMEN. AMEN.
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