Opinion – Page 102

Jewry’s maturing relationship

Details are slowly emerging about a major initiative to strengthen Jewish identity in the Diaspora. The plan, coming from the office of Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu, has been in the works for months. But details are seeping out slowly – and reaction from the Diaspora is keeping pace.

The plan, called the Prime Minister’s Initiative, is expected to pour $300 million a year into programs that enhance Jewish identity among non-Israeli Jews and to build connections between Israel and the Diaspora. The project is overwhelmingly aimed at the young, proposing a Birthright-style program for teens, more Israeli peers deployed to Diaspora university campuses, and a Global Jewish Service Corps providing young adults an opportunity to work on Jewish-oriented projects.

An editorial in the American Jewish newspaper the Forward took exception to aspects of the plan. “Why should Diaspora Jews – Americans, in particular – trust, depend on and defer to Israelis to strengthen our Jewish identity?” the paper asked. “Why should Israelis pay for Jewish identity programs in the Diaspora when there are pressing needs at home?” the editorial continues, and: “Is making the Israeli government the driver of Jewish identity the best and only way to reach younger, disaffected Diaspora Jews?” A commentator elsewhere has suggested the plan is intended to reshape Diaspora Judaism into a form that serves Israel’s best interests.

There are several factors here that deserve unpacking. Among the first is the amusing scene of American Jews getting defensive about Israelis deigning to intervene in Diaspora Jewish affairs. Has there been any topic more obsessive to Diaspora – especially American – Jews over the past decades than Israel? There is hardly a Diaspora Jew who doesn’t think they could run Israel better than can Israelis. Yet, turn the tables and suggest Israelis might have something to say about the way Jewish life unfolds around the world and suddenly it’s time for everyone to mind our own business.

It is not surprising that American Jews should be among the first to call out the Israeli initiative. For one thing, the proposal suggests an upturning of the traditional relationship, in which American Jews send money and volunteers to the Jewish state with an underlying sense of benevolent paternalism. Jewish Americans still send huge proportions of philanthropic budgets to Israel and so it may strike them as counterproductive that Israel is now planning on spending $300 million a year on programming for the Diaspora. But it’s about more than the money. Jewish Americans are familiar with their role as the rich, generous benefactors to their younger Israeli cousins. And Americans – Jewish or not – are unaccustomed to having outsiders tell them how they should run their affairs. It is also notable that the strongest reaction should come from American Jews because, statistically, Diaspora Jews are American Jews, for the most part. Seventy percent of Diaspora Jews are Americans. The next largest Diaspora Jewish population is France, with fewer than one-tenth the number of Jews as the United States. Unless explicitly targeting the few thousand Jews of Venezuela, India or Latvia, the term “Diaspora,” numerically speaking, can be interpreted to mean “mostly American.”

It is certainly true, as some commentators have pointed out, that Israel has not really deciphered what Judaism in the 21st century means within the Jewish state, so it may be premature to start exporting a half-baked and often troubled understanding abroad.

But there is no reason to believe that the Prime Minister’s Initiative will seek to tell Reform, Conservative or Orthodox Jews how to daven or order an all-new Chumash for Diaspora synagogues.

In reality, the initiative is perhaps long overdue, an opportunity for the Diaspora-Israel relationship to recalibrate to a more symbiotic dialogue, rather than the unidirectional tradition in which money (and advice) flows only to Israel. It is, in fact, a sign of a maturing of both Israel and the Israel-Diaspora relationship. The question now seems to be whether the Diaspora is mature and secure enough to adapt to the new balance in that relationship.

Religious belief vs. pretext

There I stood, 13 and terrified. At Beth Torah Congregation in Toronto, on a bimah that my grandfather had literally helped build, I was chanting from a Torah scroll that his father had saved from their synagogue in eastern Poland and smuggled through the war – the same parchment from which my father, uncles and cousins had all read in turn.

The congregation’s eyes seemed to bore tiny holes into my skull as I read the most infamous words of my Torah portion, Acharei Mot: “Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind: it is abomination.”

Bathed in family history and tradition, I thought I was about to drown. I may not have been the first gay shlemazel to have to swallow the words of Leviticus 18:22 during his bar mitzvah, but as the text passed my lips, I still felt completely alone.

The following year, as I was beginning to come out to my family and friends, the Supreme Court of Canada told an evangelical Christian university that it was free to exclude gays from its teacher education program. More than a decade later, the same university, Trinity Western, is invoking that ruling – and my bar mitzvah portion – as it claims the right to open an anti-gay law school.

They’re wrong, and anyone who truly cares about religious freedom should say so.

It’s far from clear that the Supreme Court’s 2001 decision – written, as it was, at a different time and on different facts – still empowers Trinity Western to discriminate against gays and lesbians. Yet, even if it does, the university’s anti-gay policy makes a mockery of freedom of religion. It’s one thing for people of faith to believe that gays are doomed to eternal hellfire, but it’s quite another to exclude them from a law school on that basis.

Read a Christian Bible cover to cover. It doesn’t end well for the Jews, either. Still, those of us who don’t accept Jesus Christ as lord and savior are welcome at Trinity Western University – provided that we don’t sleep with anyone of the same sex while we’re there.

If allowing Jewish students to practise Judaism isn’t a threat to Trinity Western’s religious freedom, what’s so different about allowing gay students to be gay? After all, according to evangelical Christians, we’re all going to end up shvitzing in the same place.

Imagine if the university required Jewish students to promise to abstain from Judaism. If that isn’t discrimination, neither was the Spanish Inquisition.

Can Christian scripture provide a basis for homophobia? Of course it can. Look no further than Leviticus 18:22. But the same set of texts might just as readily forgive racism, slavery or antisemitism. Why doesn’t Trinity Western discriminate against Jews or blacks the way it discriminates against gays? Because only fanatics would ever accept religious excuses for the former, and nothing does more to discredit religious freedom than using it to justify bigotry.

Anti-gay discrimination should be no exception. Those of us who depend on freedom of religion to protect our own beliefs should be the first to condemn its misuse. That doesn’t mean asking Christians (or Jews, or Muslims) to ignore scripture that prohibits homosexuality – though many do, and more should – but it does require us never to condone its use as a basis for odious discrimination. After centuries of blood libel, Jews are only too familiar with intolerance preached from the pulpit.

Those words that darkened my bar mitzvah portion – “v’et zachar lo tishkav mishk’vei ishah to’evah hu” – are chanted in synagogues around the world each year. After more than a decade, they still sting.

We can’t rewrite Leviticus, nor can we force the faithful to overlook passages that give us pause. But that doesn’t mean we can’t distinguish religious belief from religious pretext. If freedom of religion can justify almost anything, then it will be good for almost nothing. It’s up to those of us who need it to defend it from itself.

Adam Goldenberg is a Kirby Simon Human Rights Fellow at Yale Law School, a former Liberal speechwriter and a contributor to CBC News: The National. Follow him at twitter.com/adamgoldenberg. This article originally appeared in the Canadian Jewish News and is reprinted with permission. For more national Jewish news, visit cjnews.com.

Connect with “inner reality”

There is an elderly gentleman at a long-term care facility in Ottawa. I have not met him, but I have seen his photograph. At 99, he still possesses a spark in his eye. He looks much more physically robust than his biological age would suggest. And his features still retain the handsomeness I imagine he was said to possess as a younger man.

Recently, I spoke with his daughter, who I’ll call Leah. Leah is keenly aware of the disconnect between how people may perceive her father – living to an age most of us will only dream of, still in decent physical shape, happy and smiling – and her awareness that he once was so much more.

It’s not truly him, she explains, her voice cracking. Her father was always fastidiously groomed, courteous and extremely gentle. Now, under the spell of dementia, what she calls a “cruel” and “insidious” disease, on some days her father must be cajoled into showering. He has, on occasion, resorted to physical outbursts. And he has lost the social filter that we all depend on to carry us through everyday interactions. “It destroys me on a daily basis,” Leah says. Every time she sees him, she adds, she feels he has “died a little bit more.”

But bring him to music, and his spirit comes alive again. Leah sometimes performs at the facility where her father lives. When she does, her father rises from his seat, singing, filled with joy. “That’s my daughter!” he beams with pride.

Rabbi Neal Rose has recently retired as the spiritual director of the Simkin Centre, the Jewish long-term care facility in Winnipeg. He focuses on what he calls “spiritual care,” connecting with the person’s “inner reality,” he told me in a phone interview. This may be achieved through the esthetic markers of identity – things like food, music, language and holiday celebrations – or through more formal religious practice, like synagogue services.

Sometimes, this means entering the person’s current reality. A resident, who I’ll call Mr. Cohen, Rabbi Rose recounts, was getting agitated. “Call the police!” Mr. Cohen yelled, as his children surrounded him, perplexed. Rabbi Rose put his arm around him. “Mr. Cohen,” he said, “I’ve placed the call. The police will be here in five minutes.” Mr. Cohen relaxed, and went on his way.

It’s not lying, it’s not deception, Rabbi Rose emphasizes. It’s entering into their reality.

There’s a fascinating paradox at work. While dementia in many ways robs the sufferer of their identity, it also forces their caregivers and loved ones to be in the moment with them, to engage in pure empathy.

I recently visited an elderly relative who is suffering from Alzheimer’s. She seemed thrilled to see me, though she did not recall who I was. I realized I was desperately trying to penetrate through her fuzzy memory, to crack the code, as if she had a cinematic form of amnesia. “Do you recall the sharp corners on your glass coffee tables?” I asked her. “You used to place blankets over them when I brought my toddler daughter to visit.”

I wanted to fill her metaphorical candy jar with memories, I explained to Rabbi Rose, when we later spoke. I knew how much pleasure my visits had brought to her and how much I enjoyed chatting over Rideau Bakery challah and hard-boiled eggs at her home, the house she had lived in with her family for decades.

My instinct was understandable, but not realistic. “Not if she no longer has a candy jar to fill,” Rabbi Rose offered back. What’s more, too much pressing the dementia sufferer to remember can only leave both the sufferer and their family members in a circle of frustration and anxiety. This is a dynamic that Rabbi Rose emphasized, and which was echoed by Dr. Lee Blecher, a primary care physician in Virginia who treats dementia patients.

Still, Rabbi Rose emphasizes that it’s important for loved ones and caregivers to comprehend the whole person. At the Simkin Centre, a glass box is placed outside every room. Family members fill it with mementos. Of course, the totality of who a person is can never fit inside a glass box. But it’s a gentle reminder of the tension that exists between engaging a person as they are, right here and right now, and imagining a past that puts the present into sharp, sometimes wistful, but ultimately poetic, relief.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She blogs at Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. This article was originally published in the Ottawa Jewish Bulletin.

Israel in both hearts and minds

Nurturing connections between Israel and young Jews in the Diaspora can take many forms. An Avi Chai Foundation report, released this month, suggests that affiliation with Israel can come from Israel-related curriculums in Jewish day schools, but it is just as likely to come from a more generalized – and positive – affiliation with the Jewish people.

The report, titled Hearts and Minds: Israel in North American Jewish Day Schools, suggests that affiliation with Israel results from a much wider range of educational approaches than what we generally define as “advocacy.” While Israel is an important “glue” that helps bind Jewish students together (outside the Orthodox school sector, it is the most important glue), affiliation with Israel comes more from affiliation with Jewish peoplehood than vice versa, apparently. More than this, students are most likely to demonstrate connections to Israel if their parents demonstrate connections to the Jewish community. Seeing parents involved in (even non-Israel-specific) Jewish community activities can build a young person’s affiliation with Jewish life and, by extension, the Jewish state.

Interviewing almost 100 day school teachers and thousands of students, the three authors found that the role model of engaged Jewish parents is as likely to drive children to feel connection to Israel as is a trip to that country. For kids without Jewishly engaged parents, day school is the next most important factor in building affinity.

Importantly, the study indicates that frankly addressing the complexities of Israeli history and current affairs does not diminish the positive associations students hold. This is an important finding and should be recognized and remembered. Younger students may tend to associate with Israel in symbolic ways – as a somewhat abstract entity – while older students tend to have a better understanding of day-to-day life in the country and the realities of Israel’s place its region and the world. At a younger age, in other words, kids are taught to affiliate with Israel through their hearts. As they mature, students are taught to engage with their minds. This is fair. We do not expect younger children to assimilate the level of nuance and complexity we demand of high schoolers. This may also be a lesson many older Jews could learn. Too often, we find (adult) Diaspora Jews discussing, arguing and debating Israel-related issues with perhaps too much heart and not enough head.

By and large, it seems, our day schools are doing a good job at the significant task of affiliating young Jewish people with the Jewish homeland. In fact, as parents, teachers and as a community, we may be doing it in ways we do not even understand, simply by demonstrating the importance of connecting with other Jews as individuals and as a collective.

A piece of general advice useful to parents is also appropriate on the specific matter of raising kids who share our emotional and cognitive connection to the Jewish state: kids may not always listen, but they’re always watching.

Why I joined the Academic Advisory Council

Amid calls for boycotts of Israeli products, institutions and the many minds behind them, and with increasing instances of American academics and writers being muzzled, a new initiative seeks to introduce some intellectual and moral clarity.

As reported by the JTA and other outlets, and sponsored by the progressive Zionist group Ameinu, 50 North American academics have signed on to form the Academic Advisory Council, opposing academic boycotts and promoting efforts to reach an Israeli-Palestinian two-state solution. The council will advise the Third Narrative project, an already-launched web-based forum to discuss a progressive approach to Israel/Palestine.

I am one of the 50 academics on the advisory council. (Disclosure: I also sit on the board of Ameinu.) I am aware that the link between opposing academic boycotts and pushing for a two-state solution is no longer universally self-evident. In examining the space between the two positions, though, some deeper insights about this tragic conflict are revealed.

In short, the council’s mandate spans a principled view over both scholarly process and political outcome. How do we, as scholars, think it appropriate to ply our public trade? And which policy outcomes to the Israel/Palestinian conundrum do we think are best?

J Street uniquely set apart for exclusion

The self-aggrandizingly and inelegantly named Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations last week voted to bar J Street from membership in the umbrella organization.

There are 50 full-fledged members of the Conference and four adjunct members, representing a wide swath of ideology, from American Friends of Likud to Workmen’s Circle and American Friends of Peace Now. But no J Street. One might think that the criteria for membership in the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations might simply be that the organization is American, Jewish, major and has a president. Not so.

In an oblique statement after the vote, the Conference said it would continue to represent the “consensus” viewpoint of American Jewry. But that consensus may be crumbling. Opinion polls suggest half of American Jews do not believe Israel is doing enough to hasten peace. And more significant are the congealing of attitudes of younger American Jews.

Formed just six years ago, J Street has leapt into the conversation about Israel, seeking an alternative position to the longstanding AIPAC. J Street has often been critical of Israeli policies and sympathetic to Palestinian initiatives. Generally perceived to be a left-leaning entity, J Street has flourished especially among young American Jews, with 60 campus-based chapters now in existence.

Jewish young people in North America do not subscribe to the circle-the-wagons and don’t-make-trouble strategies of their parents and grandparents. As indicated by the Open Hillel movement, among other recent developments, young Jews demand less fettered discussion on topics of importance to them and to Israel.

The Conference may have made a very short-sighted decision that risks alienating more than just the swath of Jews (however large they may be) who subscribe to J Street’s ideology. They risk alienating Jews who subscribe to a more basic and profoundly Jewish precept: free-flowing debate. This is arguably a far larger demographic.

For some Jews, there is plenty to disagree with in J Street’s platform, as there is in the philosophy of many of the member organizations. Yet J Street, despite the wide spectrum of religious and political voices included under the Conference umbrella, is uniquely set apart for exclusion.

The vote reinforces the stereotype that the (North) American Jewish community is insular in its ideology and unquestioning in its allegiance to the policies of the government of Israel. This is a stereotype that is belied, on the one hand, by the range of ideologies already reflected in the Conference and by the diversity of debate nurtured in these pages and forums like it. Yet it is a statement of intolerance and narrow-mindedness, perhaps also of fear and parochialism, that the diverse voices under the Conference umbrella could not tolerate the voice of J Street.

The vote also negates the wholly pragmatic possibility that engaging with J Street could draw them closer to what the Conference claims are the mainstream Jewish American values. After all, J Street wants to be a part of the organization that claims to be the voice of the Jewish consensus.

Just as the uproar was reaching its crescendo, an utterly bizarre thing happened. On Monday, the Conference ran full-page ads in the New York Times and USA Today marking Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel’s 66th birthday as a state. The costly ads were funded by the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust. Far be it for us to speak ill of the dead, but under the circumstances there was something delicious about the funding for this print media extravaganza. Leona Helmsley, who passed away in 2007, was a notorious and widely reviled New York hotelier dubbed by tabloids “The Queen of Mean.” In the 1980s, she was sentenced to 16 years in prison for more than 30 counts of tax fraud, mail fraud and other corruption offences. (She served 18 months.) During the trial, a former housekeeper reported that Helmsley had said, “We don’t pay taxes. Only the little people pay taxes.”

On her death, Helmsley left a $12 million trust fund to her Maltese dog, Trouble. The Helmsley Charitable Trust, which paid for Monday’s newspaper spreads, was estimated at her death to be worth between $5 and $8 billion and was to be allocated largely to the care of dogs.

It may seem a diversion to draw the dead hotelier into this debate, no matter how Cruella de Vil-lian she may have been. Yet under the circumstances, it speaks to the judgment of the Conference.

At the very moment when they are at the centre of a firestorm over their capricious determination of who and what constitutes “mainstream” American Jewish values, they make one of their most visible public pronouncements ever, in the process demonstrating their willingness to be associated in the broadest American public mind with the corrupt, notorious Leona Helmsley, but not with the “pro-Israel, pro-peace” J Street.

This is the consensus voice of Jewish America?

What might the future hold now that the peace talks have failed?

This article was originally published in the Times of Israel the day before negotiations failed and the editing takes this into account. It is reprinted with permission.

As the current peace talks between Israel and the Palestinians have failed, we need to prepare for what comes next.

For some, this preparation involves preparing the public relations case for why “they” are to blame and shoring up our arguments and defence against a partial or broad boycott, divestment and sanction (BDS) campaign. It might also involve the circling of wagons around the “loyalists” and a legislative and communal campaign against the “outliers.” Who can march, when and where, who can speak, when and where, whose support is acceptable, and who is included under our “big tent,” are all going to be the subjects of ever-increasing and acrimonious debate, and some around the world might not take it as self-evident that it is “their” fault.

What happens after we accept that, for possibly the next decade, an agreement will elude us? What happens when our aspirational horizons are contracted and the status quo is all we can look forward to? Do we commence with punitive steps, such as annexing Judea and Samaria, expanding our hold on the land through settlement building and expansion, and a cessation of financial cooperation and support with the Palestinian Authority? Do these actions contribute to a stronger and greater Israel, to Israel’s vision of itself and relationship with world Jewry and the international community?

Like U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry, I, too, fear the consequences of an energized BDS movement. But, more than that, I fear the ghetto mentality and victimhood psychology to which it would give birth. As a people, we are well schooled in living in the midst of animosity and defensive responses are imprinted on our DNA. Instead of leading the Jewish people away from a Holocaust-centred narrative, Israel would be its new locus of operations.

All criticism will immediately be subsumed under the banner of antisemitism and the world will be divided between the stark categories of friend or foe, with the former an ever-shrinking category. Friends will be confined to those who do not merely support us but who agree with us and reaffirm our narrative. Our world will become smaller and our walls higher as we create with our own hands the greatest ghetto in Jewish history.

This is not the Jewish world into which I want to raise my grandchildren. This is not a Jewish world that has any chance of attracting Jews who are searching for the location of their primary identity. This is not an Israel that can lay claim to a leadership position in Jewish life and attract the loyalty of future generations. This is not an Israel that can build new bridges, whether spiritual, moral, economic or political, with the larger world and our Christian and Muslim friends.

The making of peace requires two sides. Whether we did everything in our power and whether the Palestinians did everything in theirs is a factual question and, as such, paradoxically, unresolvable, for we rarely shape our opinions on the basis of facts, and instead shape our perception of the facts on the basis of our opinions.

We need to ensure that the cessation of the current peace negotiations does not at the same time unleash an uncontrollable process and narrative that will create a broader reality alien to who we are and detrimental to who we want to be.

I am concerned with that over which we do have control – our values, principles and identity as a nation and as a people. We need to ensure that the cessation of the current peace negotiations does not at the same time unleash an uncontrollable process and narrative that will create a broader reality alien to who we are and detrimental to who we want to be.

We now awaken to a world where policy is not the barter of negotiations nor the payment offered for compromises from the other side. We awaken to a world where we have to negotiate once more with ourselves and discover what we really want and what we need to do to get there. Settlement expansion is no longer a Palestinian problem but an Israeli one; educating youth towards violence is no longer an Israeli concern but a Palestinian one.

The demands of the other have ceased to serve as the wall behind which we hide ourselves from our own values and interests. We discover that all the punitive threats of harm that we levied at each other during the negotiations, if in fact implemented, harm “us” at least to the same degree.

Together with the mobilization of our forces for the sake of public relations, we need a mobilization of our best talent and leadership to determine and implement our national policies. We need to lead and not be led.

While a unilateral withdrawal along the lines of Gaza is not prudent, a unilateral implementation of policies that serve our moral and political interests is not only prudent but critical.

Such unilateral policies, I believe, must first fortify our Jewish commitment to the equality of all humankind, to the treatment of others as we would want to be treated ourselves and to the disdain we feel in the role of occupying another people. As an expression of these commitments, we must first clarify the borders we believe are defensible and which at the same time will allow for a viable Palestinian state.

This must be followed by a cessation of all settlement expansion, let alone building beyond these lines. At the same time, this cessation must be accompanied by a gradual dismantling of those settlements that are outside our self-proclaimed borders: first, through stopping economic incentives; second, through the provision of economic incentives to move; and third, through the construction of viable housing alternatives to accommodate the inhabitants of these settlements. All this will undoubtedly take time, but now, in the days after, what we have in abundance is time.

Just as we built a massive infrastructure to support the safety of the Israeli citizens who live there, we must now invest heavily in roads, bridges and tunnels that will allow unencumbered and free passage, to the best of our ability, for Palestinian inhabitants.

As the role of occupier is prolonged, we must be ever more conscious of the effects that it has both on those who are occupied and on those who are occupying. We must engage in an ever more rigorous analysis of our military footprint in Judea and Samaria and minimize our interference in the everyday lives of the Palestinian people to pressing security concerns alone. Just as we built a massive infrastructure to support the safety of the Israeli citizens who live there, we must now invest heavily in roads, bridges and tunnels that will allow unencumbered and free passage, to the best of our ability, for Palestinian inhabitants.

As the occupier, we must realize that the cancer is not merely affecting a small group of radical settlers but us all. We must double and triple our educational programs geared toward increasing commitment and sensitivity to the equality of human beings and to their inalienable rights. We must fight any and all exhibitions of discrimination and national racism. If we are not at the present time capable of applying our values to the Palestinian people in Judea and Samaria, we can double and triple our efforts in implementing them toward our fellow Israeli Arab Palestinian citizens.

Finally, we must relearn the old Diaspora art of living with unfulfilled dreams. The success of Israel has lured us into believing that if we will it, it will become a reality. As a result, we articulate our aspirations but have difficulty holding on to them in the midst of our imperfect reality. If aspirations for peace, justice and compassion are going to continue to define Jewish identity, we must learn to talk about them, write and sing about them, dream about them, despite the pain and disappointment that accompany our inability to as yet fulfil them.

This is part of the Torah of Israel for what happens in the days after negotiations fail, a Torah that challenges us to implement our ideals to the best of our ability and which obligates us to hold on to them, regardless of the reality within which we find ourselves. This is a Torah that empowers us as a free people to shape the world in which we live, instead of merely being its victims. This is a Torah that can prepare us for all the days after.

Rabbi Dr. Donniel Hartman is president of the Shalom Hartman Institute (hartman.org.il) in Jerusalem and director of the Engaging Israel Project. He is the author of The Boundaries of Judaism.

Peace talks fail – again

While the announcement of a Fatah-Hamas unity pact on April 23 may seem to have come out of the blue, the resulting collapse of the U.S.-led peace talks was not as surprising.

The negotiations never really gained steam and, just over a month ago, they started their nosedive. Israel announced it would not release another group of prisoners by March 29 unless the Palestinian Authority agreed to extend talks beyond their April 29 deadline (which they did not). On April 1, Israel issued tenders for homes in the east Jerusalem neighborhood of Gilo and, the next day, the Palestine Liberation Organization central council applied for membership in 15 United Nations agencies/treaties. While settlement construction freezes were not a peace-talk commitment, the prisoner releases and abstention from international recognition attempts were concessions that each side offered before the talks began last July.

The day before the unity announcement, PA President Mahmoud Abbas had threatened to hand the West Bank over to Israel if peace talks failed. After the announcement, he said that a unity government under his charge would recognize Israel, accept previous Israeli-Palestinian agreements and have Fatah in control of any weaponry/soldiers. Yet, on April 26, he demanded in return that Israel freeze settlement construction, free prisoners and begin border discussions.

On April 27, more developments. Abbas acknowledged the tragedy of the Holocaust and expressed sympathy for the families of the victims, while Hamas said that, actually, it would never accept Israel as a Jewish state. Also that Sunday, the PLO council decided to pursue membership in another 60-plus UN agencies/treaties. As well, the council refused to recognize Israel’s Jewish nature and demanded “a complete end to the occupation … the illegitimacy of settlements … and a refusal of land swaps,” when Abbas had indicated amenability to “limited land swaps.”

Israel’s cabinet made the decision on April 24 to suspend talks, not willing to deal with any government that included Hamas, a terrorist organization. However, there were dissenting opinions: Justice Minister Tzipi Livni (Hatnua), Finance Minister Yair Lapid (Yesh Atid) and Opposition leader Isaac Herzog (Labor) wanted to leave the door to negotiations open, even in the case of a unity government, if it adhered to the three conditions stipulated by the Quartet (the UN, United States, European Union and Russia): recognizing Israel, accepting previous agreements and renouncing terrorism. That said, Naftali Bennet’s Jewish Home party doesn’t recognize the Palestinians’ right to a state and Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu’s Likud is deeply divided on the matter.

On Sunday, Netanyahu dismissed Abbas’ Holocaust comments as “damage control,” and said that Israel will look for alternative paths to peace, that he’s “not going to accept a stalemate.” On Tuesday, the Israeli government decided to use the tax funds it collects on behalf of the PA to pay debts owed to it by the PA, and was considering additional sanctions. To that date, Netanyahu had resisted calls from within Israel to unilaterally draw its own borders.

As the United States/U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry went from blaming Israel for reneging on the prisoner release, to blaming both sides for the troubles, to understanding why Israel wouldn’t want to deal with an organization that doesn’t believe in its right to exist in the first place, to viewing the end of talks as an expected “holding period where parties need to figure out what is next,” to using apartheid to describe a possible future Israel, their leadership of the negotiations floundered. Amid this flurry of activity, the EU issued a statement Sunday supporting Palestinian reconciliation as long as a unity government upheld nonviolence, was committed to a two-state solution and accepted Israel’s “legitimate right to exist.” On Monday, the Arab League blamed Israel for the failed talks.

In broad strokes, that’s where things stood at press time. What then are some of the concerns going forward? Analysts have pointed to many, including:

• Hamas may be agreeing to resign from power when the unity government is formed because they hope to win Palestinian public opinion and, eventually, the elections to rule over both Gaza and the West Bank.

• With peace talks off the table, Hamas won’t have to change its stance towards Israel if it forms a coalition with the PA.

• Without the talks, there may be increased violence in/from the West Bank and increased international efforts to boycott Israeli goods and institutions.

• The PA could collapse if the United States withdraws financial aid because of the reconciliation with Hamas, leaving Israel responsible for West Bank residents and the moral issues that entails, as well as more international criticism and the threat of a state in which Arabs will eventually outnumber Jews.

So, as Israel turns 66, it looks like a challenging year lies ahead. We can think of more than one wish to make as the candles are blown out.

Ukrainian incidents concerning

In Europe, it has often been dangerous for Jews to be Jews. And Easter in particular has led to frenzied antisemitism, as priests commonly riled up parishioners with a selective retelling of the crucifixion story, after which throngs would emerge from churches and attack Jewish fellow residents.

This is a generalization, of course. Many Easters have passed peacefully in many parts of Europe. But Jew-bashing was a common occurrence with formal and informal sanction. Children sometimes came home from school with arts and crafts mallets to be used symbolically to hammer the Jews on Easter weekend. Predictably in such an environment, on many, many occasions, the hammering was not symbolic.

So it was this past weekend, when firebombs were reportedly thrown through the windows of the main synagogue in the Ukrainian city of Nikolayev. Thankfully, prayers were not taking place at the time and no one was injured. But the traumatized and beleaguered community must certainly have heard echoes of the past in this act of contemporary vandalism and hate.

Ukraine, of course, is the centre of global anxieties, verging as it does on something between a civil war among ethnic Russian and Ukrainian citizens and an incipient full-scale invasion by Vladimir Putin’s Russia, which has already invaded and annexed Crimea.

It may be an unofficial aspect of our tradition to always expect the worst even while hoping for the best, so it may not have come as a complete surprise to some of us that Easter weekend did not pass without an unfortunate incident. Particularly in the aftermath of another chilling incident in the days before the firebombing. A photocopied sheet was spread throughout parts of Ukraine during Passover declaring that Jews over the age of 16 must register at the (Russian-occupied) government building in Donetsk, paying a $50 registration fee and listing all real estate owned. The echoes of the past this poster elicited were obvious and outrage went viral.

From the start, there was uncertainty about the provenance of the sheet and whether it was being distributed on behalf of an official/ government agency. By the weekend, media were reporting that the poster had been “debunked,” that it was not issued by authorities. If true – because the “debunking” report is no more certain than the original belief that it came from whatever counts as a government in the region now – it would be a bit of a relief. But there should be no great celebration. In recent weeks, as Ukraine and Russia have become more and more conflicted, Jewish citizens of Ukraine have found themselves in an historically familiar and dangerously undesirable position. As has been so often the case in Europe, sides in the conflict are either demanding Jewish allegiance or scapegoating Jews.

Ukraine has a small but overt, visible and thriving neo-Nazi movement – with the support of about one in 10 Ukrainians – which is trouble enough. Putin did not help matters when he suggested recently that Russian influence in Ukraine would be good for the Jews because of rampant antisemitism there. There could hardly be a more dangerous position for Ukrainian Jews than to be seen as a justification for Russian incursion (as if Russia or Putin have records worthy of Jewish admiration).

Leaders of Ukraine’s Jewish community, which traditionally has been more Russian-speaking than Ukrainian-speaking, stood firm with their Ukrainian fellow citizens against Putin’s assertions that Ukraine is a hotbed of Jew-hatred.

“Your certainty about the growth of antisemitism in Ukraine, which you expressed at your press conference, also does not correspond to the actual facts,” rabbis and other leading figures in the community wrote in an open letter to the Russian president. “Perhaps you got Ukraine confused with Russia, where Jewish organizations have noticed growth in antisemitic tendencies last year.”

All these decades and centuries later, our coreligionists still struggle to find a place of welcome in their home countries, amid the nationalist and racial conflicts of Europe. Of course, we should not assume this is a far-away problem. The murders at two Jewish institutions in Kansas City last week is proof that antisemitism exists in our own backyards, as well, and we will continue to watch developments in the region and closer to home with wariness and hope, prepared to speak out and act on behalf of Jews – and anyone – who is endangered.

Brandeis U wrong to disinvite Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Last week, Brandeis University rescinded an invitation to Ayaan Hirsi Ali, who was to have received an honorary degree at commencement in May.

Hirsi Ali is a Somali-born Dutch citizen, author, feminist, activist and outspoken critic of Islam. Her story, told in the memoir Infidel, is of a woman rejecting the culture in which she was raised and condemning it vociferously. An atheist and former Muslim, Hirsi Ali is categorically opposed to conventional Islamic approaches to women, particularly genital mutilation, to which Hirsi Ali was subjected at age 5. She has called for Islam to be “defeated,” not differentiating between “radical Islam” and the totality of the religion.

Hirsi Ali was elected to the Dutch parliament and has received countless recognitions from organizations in Europe and the United States, including the Moral Courage Award from the American Jewish Committee. She has also received serious death threats – threats literally pinned with a knife to the body of murdered Dutch filmmaker Theo Van Gogh.

Brandeis decided to cancel Hirsi Ali’s honorary degree after campus and outside activists expressed opposition to the honor. (The university alternatively invited Hirsi Ali to participate in a campus dialogue; she declined.) Critics argue that a speaker who uttered against any other religion the sorts of things Hirsi Ali says about Islam would not be welcomed on a respectable university’s campus.

But Hirsi Ali’s perspective comes largely from her personal experience. She is not an outsider whose views are clouded by ignorance and misperception. Her views, while controversial, are well-considered, rational and do not approach hate speech.

Reneging on an honorary degree adds a wrinkle of complexity. Commentators have condemned the rescinding of the honorary degree as a rejection of academic freedom and free expression. Others have said there is hypocrisy at play. Tony Kushner, the American playwright who calls the creation of Israel a “mistake” was honored by Brandeis University with an honorary degree, despite an outcry from Zionists. Why have similar outcries against Hirsi Ali been successful when those against Kushner were not? Is it because Israel is a more popular target than Islam, even at a Jewish-oriented university? Is it because Jewish institutions, conscious of the dangers of antisemitism, are more hesitant to approach anything that might approach prejudice toward other groups? The reasons hardly matter. A bigger issue is at play.

A university should be confident in their choice before they invite honorary degree recipients. Brandeis screwed up on that front and embarrassed themselves and their alumni by reversing the honor based on public complaints. At least one media outlet has called the school “cowardly.” Now the university – and others considering controversial speakers – must consider where their core values lie. Are universities to become a place where only time-tested and uncontroversial ideas are floated? Or are they to be the incubators of fresh ideas, spurred by contentious and free-ranging argumentation even on difficult, uncomfortable topics? A Jewish-oriented university especially should reflect the values of openness and debate that reflect our heritage. This incident should serve at the very least as a learning opportunity for Brandeis – and all places of higher learning and public discourse – about what intellectual exploration should truly mean.