Identity to be focus at local Book of Life signing

Published in Volume 63, Issue 24 of the Arizona Jewish Post, December 21, 2007.

"The current generation, in terms of its sense of itself and its relationship to the broader Jewish world, differs significantly from the generations prior," says Jewish educator Arna Poupko Fisher. Fisher will be the keynote speaker at the Jewish Community Foundation's Endowment Book of Life community signing, which will be held Tuesday, Jan. 22 at 5 p.m. at the Tucson Jewish Community Center. Her talk, "The Jewish Journey: Faith, Spirit, and Promise," will explore Jewish identity and how one takes one's place in the continuum of history that links the generations.

Unlike previous generations, Fisher says that younger Jews, including "millennials"--those born between the late 1970s and mid-1990s--do not tend to view their connection to the larger Jewish community as a given. "Young people are not drawn to Jewish commitment unless it brings value to their personal lives, to their professional lives, and to their families," she continues. "It's very personal." The change has become a preoccupation for Jewish organizations seeking to further involvement among young people, giving rise to projects such as birthright israel, which organizes free Israel trips for teens and young adults.

Despite the challenge the organized Jewish community faces in engaging young people, Fisher sees positive trends emerging, including a decreased tendency to place historical persecution at the center of Jewish identity. "We don't want to be defined by our sufferings," she says. "We want to be defined by our triumphs."

Fisher grew up in Canada, in what she describes as "a normative Jewish home where commitment to community and Israel were a given, but religious commitment and observance was done with moderation." During her early teens, she discovered a more intensive form of Judaism and decided to live a more religiously committed life. "I've never looked back," she says of her personal transformation.

Fisher now lives in Cincinnati, Ohio, where she serves as a faculty member at the Wexner Heritage Foundation and the Department of Jewish Studies at the University of Cincinnati. She has lectured in over 120 communities across North America and has made numerous appearances on national radio and television.

The Endowment Book of Life began in 1990 as a way for donors to share their personal stories and to affirm their intent to make a contribution to the Jewish community. Dozens of Jewish communities have since undertaken similar endeavors. In Tucson, the personal statements are kept in an archive at the Jewish Community Foundation, and are also available for viewing on the organization's website and at the JCC. Nancy Ben-Asher Ozeri, director of communications for the Jewish Community Foundation, says that in adding their names to the Endowment Book of Life, signatories "make a promise for the future of the Jewish community, linking all the generations." They are then given the opportunity to work with the foundation in making a "legacy plan," serving as a blueprint for planned giving toward organizations or causes within the Jewish community and beyond.

The free event will include a light buffet dinner, a performance by the Tucson Jewish Youth Choir, and kids' activities and childcare.

Lone Riders No More

Published Dec. 15 in January 2008 issue of Tucson Green Magazine

Every Tuesday evening, bikes begin to appear around the flag pole near Old Main on the University of Arizona. With the bikes come Tucson residents of all stripes, mingling, chatting, and creating a festive atmosphere drawing the friendly curiosity of passersby. They've come for the weekly community bike ride, and they continue to stream in until 300 bikes crowd the campus.

Among the cycling enthusiasts is Sandra Pope, manager of a local hair salon, who says she heard about the event through a friend and has been involved since late summer.

"I got into bike riding because it's the best workout a person can have," Pope says. "It's a huge stress reliever, too."

The fitness aspect of cycling is only one part of this event's appeal. While many participants in the bike ride express an interest in fitness and a desire to live an environmentally-friendly lifestyle, they are also seizing upon another aspect of the hobby: community building. In a time when many people isolate themselves inside their cars during commutes or inside their homes watching television, this Tuesday event offers a breath of fresh air, a social atmosphere, and the opportunity to meet like-minded people.

Like Pope, Seth Lamantia has been involved for several weeks, after finding a flyer for the event wedged between the spokes of his bike. "It's a cool thing to do on a Tuesday night," he says. "And you get to meet a lot of friendly people."

The bicycles assembling at Old Main are as diverse as the people who ride them. There are beach cruisers, dirt bikes, road bikes, mountain bikes--even a unicycle. A carnival atmosphere pervades, augmented by the organizers' decision to declare a different theme each week. In accordance with this week's theme, "dresses and crazy helmets," the crowd is peppered with women and men playfully donning dresses and creatively decorated helmets. One person wears a horned Viking helmet; another proudly sports a colander on his head. Previous themes have included "shorts and tank tops" and "crazy mustaches."

Every week, the group of friendly bicyclers follows a new route, exploring different parts of the city. This week, the crowd circles the UofA campus, the adjoining Sam Hughes neighborhood, and then pedals through downtown Tucson, inspiring sociable honks and cheers from numerous motorists. Along the way, organizers help ensure the safety of the riders by warning those farther back about obstacles or slowdowns up ahead. Once the bikers reach downtown, they pause and some members play bicycle games. Especially popular is "Foot Down," which draws cheers and suspense from the onlookers as players test their balance by riding slowly inside an increasingly smaller circle while trying to avoid putting their foot on the ground to stop their bike.

The idea of holding a community bike ride formed spontaneously among a group of 22 friends who decided, in June 2007, to get together and ride around the city. Some are involved with BICAS, a local nonprofit that promotes cycling and do-it-yourself bicycle maintenance. Nick Jett, one of the founders, is a Tucson native and political science senior at the University. Jett, a vegan and environmental activist, has been an avid bike rider all his life. "This is an effort to create something inclusive," he notes, "with the broad goal of uniting the cycling community, promoting awareness, and encouraging bicycle safety."

What began as a small, informal gathering has since expanded rapidly, mostly through word of mouth. The group's camaraderie is contagious, as the members congregate on campus and pedal along the city streets. Newcomers on bikes spontaneously join in along the way. Wherever they pass, the riders generate curiosity, and onlookers shout questions to the group and on how they can get involved. The more perplexed bystanders ask the riders, "What's your cause?" and "What are you riding for?"

The group's buoyant reply: "For fun!"

The community bike ride meets every Tuesday at 8 P.M. in front of Old Main at the University of Arizona. For more information, contact Karl Goranowski, one of the main organizers, at gm@kamp.arizona.edu.

NW Transdenominational Congregation Forms

Published in the Arizona Jewish Post August 17, 2007.

Makom Simcha (Place of Joy), a new alternative congregation in Northwest Tucson, focuses upon Chasidic storytelling and music to "bring people closer to G-d, each other and creation through an open, creative and joyous expression of Judaism," says Rabbi Menashe Bovit. He describes the fledgling congregation as "transdenominationa," welcoming Jews of all backgrounds to participate in services. "In my view," he explains, "each one of the established Jewish movements is a piece of a puzzle, a piece of the truth. A transdenominational perspective feels that it's okay to sample from the different movements and also to be creative and generate a new perspective that amplifies the tradition in a positive way."

The Chicago-born rabbi developed a fondness for Tucson as a psychology student at the University of Arizona in his early twenties. The son of a Holocaust survivor, Bovit was raised in an observant home, but despite a strong sense of pride in his Jewish heritage, he found it difficult to connect with Judaism in his youth. Of his early Jewish education, he says, "We learned how to read Hebrew, but there was no attempt at making Judaism a relevant experience. There was no fun in it. It was basically an obligatory experience." At the UA, his alienation from Judaism was turned around when his girlfriend brought him to a concert of "Singing Rabbi" Shlomo Carlebach. He went on to become a student of Carlebach, who ordained him as a rabbi in 1991. During his years studying with the Chasidic rabbi, says Bovit, he was inspired by Carlebach's kindness.

Bovit has served as a congregational rabbi in various communities throughout the United States, including Reno, Nev., and Ft. Collins, Colo. He returned to Tucson several months ago and has since worked toward establishing Makom Simcha. The congregation held its first informal chavurah on Aug. 8, with almost 40 people in attendance. Another chavurah will be held Wed., Aug. 22 at 7:30 p.m. at the Northwest YMCA located at 7770 N. Shannon Rd.

The congregation also plans to hold alternative Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur services at the YMCA. The Rosh Hashana gathering is scheduled for Wednesday, Sept. 12 at 7:30 p.m. A Kol Nidre "Service of Forgiveness and Healing" will be held on Friday, Sept. 21 at 6 p.m. For more information, call 866-528-9253.

Remembering Rachel Corrie the Activist, Not the Myth

Published in Left Hook. An earlier version appeared in The Peace Chronicle Vol. 2 No. 3 (Fall/Winter 2003).

Recently, the prestigious Royal Court Theatre premiered a play entitled “My Name is Rachel Corrie,” sparking an outpouring of stirring tributes and hateful diatribes about the drama’s protagonist. For the activist community, Rachel has become a vivid symbol of resistance and solidarity with the world’s oppressed, as the many songs, poems, films, and art pieces devoted to her confirm. But to those of us whose lives have crossed paths with hers, as mine did during my years at the Evergreen State College, the international response to Rachel’s death can take on unique and difficult dimensions.

Having once known the subject of this sudden outpouring of adulation, it has been with painfully mixed emotions that I have watched her transformation from a young woman who was bright, idealistic, articulate, and irrepressibly alive, to one who is renowned, enshrined, canonized, and gone. Certainly, that immortalized image of little tiny Rachel unbudgingly staring down the giant metal monster that loomed before her, mouth open to swallow her up, has been a powerful source of inspiration to many in search of some model of conviction to fuel their own struggles and give them the courage and strength to persist. And to what would have likely been Rachel’s satisfaction, the International Solidarity Movement has received unprecedented media recognition in the wake of the tragedy, and recruitment for the organization has soared, with scores of young people hoping to follow in the footsteps of this striking figure. Yet I recall the emergency meeting of local activists held the day afterward, which was filled with refrains of “this is a great opportunity” and “we could really use this as leverage,” and I find myself strangely paralyzed, left with the wrenching question: is it possible for a movement to succeed without martyrs?

I would like to believe that it is possible. When behind a movement lies a vision based on the precept that every life is infinitely sacred and worthy of protection, it seems an imperative that this principle extend to the adherents themselves, negating the celebration of human sacrifice. Still, the ghosts of past movements seem to line up in hopes of proving me wrong: Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Malcolm X, and Jesus, all of them ready to die, and die again on a symbolic yearly basis, for the sins of the rest of us so that we may go on committing them forever and ever. In that intoxicating glow that sets in on crowds who identify with a martyred figure, all that is left of her memory is rendered hollow, reduced to a dehumanized cardboard cutout that is less a person (one who, perhaps, wrote silly poetry and had a stack of dishes in the sink the size of the Eiffel Tower) and more a mere symbol.

This is not to say that everyone who has paid tribute to Rachel throughout the last two years, much less the multitudes of people worldwide who were so deeply touched by her story, are entirely lacking in respect for her as a human being. In fact, I believe it was largely her humanness that resonated with them to begin with. What concerns me most is the manner in which her actions will be remembered in the time to come, when everyone who crossed paths with her during her lifetime is gone. Even now, when her community is still reeling, there can already be seen a deeply misleading mythology springing up around her. Like Rosa Parks, she is most commonly portrayed as a lone figure moved by sudden, nearly superhuman inspiration to throw herself heroically in front of a bulldozer poised for destruction, when in reality her actions were carefully planned (even routine, by that point), carried out not in isolation but as part of an organized network of experienced, community-based activists. Before that singular moment now emblazoned in our collective consciousness, she and others in her organization repaired wells, walked terrified children to school, and spent countless hours just trying to dig some semblance of dignity and humanity from the rubble of lives shattered by incomprehensible suffering. Rachel did not travel to Gaza simply to stand in front of a bulldozer, and she did not go there to die. Nor are these her greatest achievements.

Like its Arabic counterpart “shaheed,” which now graces posters of Rachel on the streets of Rafah and has become source of pride for many here in Olympia, the term “martyr” has its roots in the meaning “to bear witness.” And, indeed, it was primarily to bear witness to the plight of a people with whom the lives of Americans are so intimately yet so remotely connected that my fallen schoolmate chose to undertake the work she did. One cannot help but wonder, though, whether it should have taken her brutal killing to make the world pay attention. Why could she not have borne witness, and been heard, without becoming a martyr and losing her life, a life boundlessly irreplaceable in its uniqueness and beauty? Further, why do we not offer the same recognition to the many other internationals who were lucky enough to evade such a brutal fate, or to the many Palestinians who were not?

As we remember the life of Rachel Corrie, and the many peacemakers who came before her and are sure to come after, it is my hope that we will remember them not as infallible, superhuman figures acting alone and out of some extremely rare quality of character, but as ordinary people immersed in communities of compassion, because in the end, the reality is far more inspiring than the myth.

An American in Haifa

Published October 2006 in Hakol.

When I arrived in the northern Israeli city of Haifa in early July, I was struck by the breathtaking beauty of the city, with its winding mountain roads, whitewashed Mediterranean buildings, and serene beaches. What better place to learn Hebrew and experience firsthand Israel’s most pluralistic city, with its coexistence between its substantial Arab, Jewish, Druze, Bahai, and Christian communities. By the time my second week in the Middle East arrived, however, it would become clear that this educational experience would provide lessons far beyond those I had come to learn.

On Thursday, July 13, Haifa’s previous sense of disconnect from regional strife was shattered as the first of many Katyusha rockets slammed into the Stella Maris neighborhood, a beautiful area from which, two days before the attack, I had enjoyed views of Haifa’s port and the distant coast of Lebanon. That night would be the first of several spent in a bomb shelter huddled anxiously around a classmate’s radio. In the following days, nearby explosions would shake the ground, and with the routine of classes interrupted, I would find myself spending hours in a stuffy shelter. The experience was not without its benefits, however. From these besieged Israelis I would learn not only the unforeseen joy of chocolate sandwiches, but more importantly, the impact of life under siege upon a society.

For Israel, as for all nations, the experience of the present is colored by historical memory. From the solemn halls of the Holocaust museum Yad Vashem to the war memorials dotting each city, past suffering fills one’s consciousness as strongly as does the fact that nearly every Israeli one meets has lost a loved one to political violence. Huddling in the shelters, people’s thoughts inevitably meander to the past…especially, in this case, to the SCUDs rained down by Saddam Hussein during the Gulf War. That war has left an indelible imprint upon Israel not only because of its experience of terror—drudging to the surface the ever-present specter of annihilation—but perhaps even more because of the powerlessness Israel felt when asked by the United States to stay out of the conflict so as not to provoke Arab ire. This sense of powerlessness surfaced then in the form of inward-turned aggression, as the country faced an epidemic of domestic violence, and it is resurfacing today, only this time turned outward.

While many in the international community have condemned the extent of Israel’s military operation in Lebanon, the overwhelming majority of Israelis I spoke with said, “enough is enough.” And “enough,” let us not forget, is a word that stretches over not only years of Hezbollah aggression, but decades of unremitting conflict, the ongoing need to assert Israel’s very right to exist, and centuries of persecution of Jews. These are not the fault of innocent Lebanese, and Israel’s air campaign has been both deadly to civilians and ineffective in ensuring Israel’s security. This painful reality was brought home to me every night as I lay in bed listening to the constant roar of Israeli war planes headed north, unable to sleep with the awareness that the sound meant crushed homes and lives cut short. This reality was also brought home to me every time I did manage some sleep, only to awake to the sound of explosions and artillery fire. However, while it is crucial to condemn the killing of civilians, it is also important to understand the context in which such violence takes place. When the leaders of Europe insist that Israel lay down its arms, even as rockets continue to fall upon its cities, the painful memory of Gulf War powerlessness sounds as loudly in Israelis’ ears as does the wailing of air raid sirens outside. The problem is only further compounded when the condemnations of Israel come with accusations of Israeli exploitation of the Holocaust.

Historical memory also provides clues into the unanimity with which Israeli public opinion has stood by the actions of the Israeli military in Lebanon. In the early 1980s, when Israel invaded Lebanon in order to combat the PLO and aid Lebanon’s Maronite Christian leadership in the midst of civil war, the invasion was met with widespread dissent. A large segment of the population was vocally opposed to the war, and formed the peace movement that has in more recent times shifted its focus to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Following the withdrawal of Israel’s remaining troops from Lebanon in 2000, such peace-seeking sentiments have finally turned sour when they failed to bring about the desired results, and attacks continued. In the bomb shelter, an Israeli student told me about a close friend, one of the founders of Four Mothers, a peace organization sometimes credited with the withdrawal from Lebanon. This time, she said, “we gave them their chance, and they blew it.” The tradition of dissent, nonetheless, remains alive in Israel, evidenced by a recent ten thousand-strong peace demonstration in Tel Aviv. The calls for peace are often led by women, including the organization Women in Black, which continued its weekly vigil in Haifa even as the city faced ongoing violence. Even among those who support the war in Lebanon, many tears are shed for its innocent victims on both sides.

Even in such a time of strife, Haifa taught me many things. I experienced the enduring generosity of its inhabitants, from Israelis such as my roommate, who insisted on feeding her new American friends a feast of hummus, yogurt, olives, and traditional Arab bread and soothing our nerves even though her own family faces greater danger farther north. “Savlanut,” the Israelis would remind us. “Patience.” I saw that in a pluralistic city like Haifa, targeted perhaps for this very pluralism, everyone suffers together, Jew and Arab alike. And I even managed to learn a little Hebrew.

September 11: The Day the Words Changed

Published in Days Beyond Recall special issue A Nation in Distress, September 11, 2006.

Few Americans who lived during the terrorist attack of September 11, 2001 will ever forget the searing images that filled their television screens that day, nor will they forget the words they have come to associate with those powerful images. Almost immediately, the discourse that sprang up around the tragedy became deeply imbedded in the collective American consciousness, and few have questioned it due to its emotional nature and the fear of dishonoring the victims or eroding national solidarity by questioning its mythology. Because of this discourse, which arose from within the elite rather than spontaneously, Americans have been able to debate the implications of 9/11 only within the framework of several fundamental myths.

September 11 is perhaps the only date in American history, besides July 4, that has been deemed so significant that the date itself has become a national buzzword summing up a tremendous well of images, emotions, and associations. The immediate coverage of the 9/11 attacks cemented within the viewer’s consciousness a highly emotional memory that has since been invoked by political leaders seeking to use the potent mix of fear, anger, herd mentality, righteous victimhood, and religious feeling to forward their own agendas. The attacks were reported as a national crisis of epic proportions, prompting American viewers to feel as though they themselves were closer to the tragedy than most were in physical reality and to respond with crisis instinct rather than careful reasoning. This, in turn, has become a powerful rhetorical device; as long as leaders could invoke the memory, so too could they invoke that crisis mentality, whether crisis truly existed or not.

One of the central myths saturating the discourse on the attacks is the loss of innocence. In a 2002 speech before Congress, former Secretary of State Colin Powell asserted, “The world is a different place, a more dangerous place than the place that existed before September 11.” Later, in the same speech, he remarked that, “As a consequence of the terrorist attacks…a new reality was born.” Though the majority of Americans were indeed largely unaware of the tension that has for several decades surrounded U.S. foreign policy toward the Middle East, the ignorance had been chiefly the result of official brushing aside of warning signs. Yet the attacks have been presented as random acts of irrational savagery that befell an uninvolved and unsuspecting nation quite literally “out of the clear blue sky.” Certainly, the direct victims were innocent and unsuspecting, but coverage maintained that the nation itself was the victim, presenting only a partial view of the larger picture in which the attacks were spurned in part by exploitative policies of the United States government.

The loss of innocence also meant the loss of a sense of complacency and security. No longer could Americans feel safe in their own homes and offices; no longer could they afford the luxury of opting for an isolationist approach to global affairs. “America’s determination to actively oppose the threats of our time was formed and fixed on September 11” George W. Bush remarked in his pivotal October 2002 speech extolling the necessity of invading Iraq. In the speech, President George W. Bush invoked the attacks by saying, “We must never forget the most vivid events of recent history. On Sept 11, 2001, America felt its vulnerability.” He concluded the speech with a reminder that “the attacks of September 11 showed our country that vast oceans no longer protect us from danger.” The President has been able to invoke the attacks ad infinitum without criticism because one of the universal human responses to tragedy is to place a sense of sanctity around the issue of remembrance. In numerous speeches, Bush has peppered discussions of various issues by reiterating, “America must remember/never forget the lessons of September 11.” Since the vast majority of Americans feel compelled to honor the victims by preserving the memory of what happened, such rhetoric carries the uneasy implication that to oppose Bush’s agenda is to forget, and hence dishonor, those who lost their lives.

Despite the lack of evidence pointing to a connection between the Iraqi government and the al-Qaida network, President Bush continued to draw a parallel between the two situations, stating that “[Saddam’s atrocities] have killed or injured at least 20,000 people, more than six times the number of people killed in the attacks of September 11” and “some citizens wonder, after 11 years of living with this problem, why do we need to confront it now? And there’s a reason. We’ve experienced the horror of September the 11.” While he avoided overt references to collaboration between Iraq and al-Qaida once this was declared a dubious possibility, the President maintained the habit of discussing both in the same sentence, prompting many Americans to form an unconscious association. In the October speech, Bush mentioned Iraq and al-Qaida in tandem six times, asserting that “Iraq and the al-Qaida terrorist network share a common enemy-the United States of America.” The connection was further cemented by discussion of Saddam’s “arsenal of terror,” along with his potential to form “links to terrorist groups” and to “finance terror.” It would be a mistake to underestimate the impact of this rhetorical device, in light of a Zogby America poll revealing that five years after the attacks, 46% of Americans still believe that Saddam was directly involved with 9/11.

One of the most frequently repeated truisms about the tragedy was that “everything changed on 9/11,” or “the world changed after September 11.” In many speeches by government officials, political pundits, and journalists, one can find frequent references to “the world after September 11.” The concept of a new reality, though it was a reality created not by the event itself but rather by the response, has been echoed in a plethora of official speeches, offering justification for policies that had once been considered unacceptable. A new reality, the logic went, calls for new ethics; no longer can the United States rely upon outmoded codes of chivalrous warfare in the face of an unpredictable and inhuman enemy. The impact of the tragedy had little to do with the number of lives lost, as indeed recent history is filled with violent events leaving far greater casualties, but rather with the importance assigned to it by those with the power to shape popular discourse. In actuality, the U.S. invasion of Iraq has had a far greater impact on the objective reality of geopolitics, directly bringing about a dramatic increase in instability that will affect global politics for decades. Particularly important is that the creation of a new, socially constructed reality serves the Orwellian purpose of erasing history, with all of its valuable lessons and clues about the present. And that is why it is so vital that as we recall the tragedy of September 11, we also take care to remember September 10th, to remember the world we inhabited before this great shift in consciousness. Only those of us who lived through the change can preserve the reality the Bush administration is striving to erase, and transmit that reality to generations to come.

Still Standing for Peace: A Different Side of Israel in a Time of War

Published in Days Beyond Recall Vol. No. 3 (March 2007).

When I headed to the northern Israeli city of Haifa this summer to study at Haifa University, I certainly did not anticipate that I would spend many hours huddled in an underground bomb shelter as the building shook from the impact of Katyusha rockets launched by Hezbollah. The experience, nonetheless, afforded me an opportunity to see firsthand the diversity of responses to a war depicted in the mainstream media as backed by overwhelming consensus on the part of the Israeli public. The war in Lebanon did occur with the backing of the majority of Israelis, especially in its beginning stages. Epitomizing the apparent unanimity with which Israelis accepted the war was a conversation I had with a Haifa University student in the shelter. He told me of a discussion he had with a close friend, one of the founders of Four Mothers, an organization that formed the heart of popular opposition to the first Lebanon War in 1982 and is sometimes credited with Israel’s withdrawal in 2000. This summer, she adopted a drastically different viewpoint, wholeheartedly backing Israel’s government and military. Referring to opponents of Israel north of the border, she had one thing to say: “we gave them their chance, and they blew it.” To the chagrin of many longtime advocates of peace, her change of heart was not unique. Polls show that at various intervals during the conflict, between 86%-95% of the Israeli public supported the deadly bombing and subsequent invasion of Lebanon.

Behind this ostensible unity, however, lay a burgeoning movement of vocal opposition to the invasion of Lebanon, representing a side of Israeli society rarely seen in the media. Although criticism of the invasion only entered the mainstream as the war became understood as a humanitarian disaster and strategic failure, internal opposition on a mass scale existed from the earliest days of the war. On August 5, at the pinnacle of internal dissent, 10,000 Israeli demonstrators poured into Tel Aviv’s Magen David Square to voice their opposition to the destruction of Lebanon. Despite verbal harassment and eggs thrown by detractors, they chanted in Hebrew, “Children want to live/in Haifa and in Beirut!” Many called for the resignation of Defense Minister Amir Peretz. While the August 5 demonstration marked the height of Israeli mass protest against the war, public dissent existed throughout the duration of the conflict. On July 22, 5,000 demonstrators amassed in Tel Aviv to demand that their government “stop the guns and start talking.” Although the war brought about a split within the Four Mothers, 15 former members decided to form their own organization called Waking Up On Time, seeking to prevent a repeat of the tragic events of the first war in Lebanon.

Throughout the month-long conflict, the Israeli organization Gush Shalom (“Peace Bloc”) emerged at the forefront of the movement, working in tandem with Women’s Coalition for Peace, the Arab/Jewish partnership Ta’ayush (“Life in Common”), Anarchists Against Walls, Yesh Gvul (“There Is A Limit”), the Israeli-Palestinian Forum of Bereaved Families, and many others. The movement was comprised of a diverse cross-section of the Israeli public, including feminists, parents with young children, students, veteran peace activists, and political parties such as the Marxist, non-Zionist Hadash party, the Israeli-Arab Balad party, and the United Arab List. Addressing the crowd on August 5, Gush Shalom spokesman Adam Keller remarked that “the criminal has returned to the scene of the crime,” drawing a parallel between the July 30 attack on Qana and the 1996 massacre that targeted the same Lebanese city. “That massacre compelled [Prime Minister] Shimon Peres to break off his war,” Keller continued. “The conclusion is that we must stop this war at once, before it is too late.”

The attack on Qana, in which at least 56 civilians were killed, was a major focal point for criticism of the war. A few hours after the bombing, Israelis came together spontaneously to express their outrage over the attack. Several hundred demonstrators gathered outside the Ministry of Defense in Tel Aviv, accompanied by former Knesset members Ya’el Dayan and Naomi Hazan, who condemned the official pro-war position of their Meretz party.

Israeli dissent against the war in Lebanon was not limited to street protests. Following in the footsteps of numerous Israeli war refusers before him, 28-year-old Iztik Shabbat became the first conscientious objector of the conflict. When ordered to serve in the West Bank on July 19 in order to replace IDF soldiers being sent to Lebanon, he instead signed the Courage to Refuse petition, telling the Israeli paper Haaretz that “Someone has to be the first to break through the false consensus around this war.” On August 12, Yesh Gvul and others staged a demonstration outside Israeli Military Prison #6, from which the “refuseniks” inside could hear musical performances and speeches of support and solidarity. Among the speakers was Yonatan Shapira, himself a refusenik who as a young Air Force pilot co-founded the joint Israeli/Palestinian organization of veterans Combatants for Peace. In 2003, Shapira and a group of fellow pilots resolved not to fly attack missions against Palestinian targets. Standing outside the prison, Shapira delivered a speech honoring his brother Itamar, who was confined inside for his refusal to serve in the war. In an interview with Haaretz, Yonaton announced “there is no chance that I’m wearing a military uniform in any situation in this war while the military is doing what it is doing.” Additional support comes from New Profile: the Movement for the Civil-ization of Israeli Society, which provides services and education to those who refuse service for reasons of conscience.

Despite the strength of the demonstrations and the resoluteness of the war’s refusers, many activists concur that the July conflict marked an unprecedented split within the decades-old Israeli peace movement. Particularly indicative of this split was the pro-war stance of Peace Now, the organization that stood at the heart of public opposition to the 1982 invasion of Lebanon. During that period, Peace Now played a pivotal role in mobilizing Israeli public opinion against the killing of civilians, most notably the massacres of Palestinian refugees at Sabra and Shatila by Israeli-backed Lebanese militia. In 2006, however, the organization openly supported attacks on Lebanon, which Peace Now leaders referred to as a defensive war. Renowned novelist Amos Oz, a founding member of Peace Now, echoed the sentiment in the op-ed pages of the L.A. Times, writing that “the Israeli peace movement should support Israel’s attempt at self-defense, pure and simple.” Perhaps most illustrative of the change is the very fact that Peace Now co-founder Amir Peretz went on to be one of the primary architects and advocates of the 2006 invasion.

Regardless of the official stance of the organization, Peace Now members were by no means unanimous in their support of the war. Galia Golan, a longtime Peace Now leader and Professor of Political Science at Hebrew University, challenged the popular conception of the war as an unavoidable measure of defense. “I am strongly opposed to this war,” she said in an interview with the Heinrich Boll Foundation, explaining her participation in the July 22 protest. “And if Peace Now and Meretz are not demonstrating, I had to find another vehicle for protest.” In a July 31 interview with NPR’s Michele Norris, Golan lamented, “I think the peace movement has been badly hit, frankly. I have been thinking all along that it might take just a few weeks and people would come out against the war and that we would have a better sense of at least where our own public is. That’s not happening.”

For Golan and many others, dissent against the invasion of Lebanon and the occupation of Palestinian territories are deeply and irrevocably intertwined with the need to challenge gender oppression. The implications of militarized masculinity are profound for women in a society in which military service is a centrality. Military conflicts are often brought home in the form of domestic violence, which is frequently overlooked or excused because of the stress soldiers face during combat and the willingness of the collective society to sacrifice women’s well-being for the sake of “national security.” Although women are required to complete military service, the perception of the military as a fundamentally male sphere has consequences for female members of the military, which in a militarized society such as Israel often carries over into civilian life. Since women are kept away from performing the more prestigious combat roles and are typically relegated to menial military jobs, they do not establish the valuable contacts that benefit many men as they enter the workforce. Of particularly profound importance is the sexualized manner in which the nation itself is conceptualized, and by extension, the way territorial conquest is conceptualized. It is telling that the Hebrew word kibbush, which is the popular term for a military occupation, also describes the sexual conquest of a woman. The dynamics of militarized masculinity were especially relevant during the war with Hezbollah, which began with an act of kidnapping that served as an insult to Israel’s national manhood. The subsequent killing of more than 1,000 civilians, mainly women and children, in retaliation for such an insult struck an especially poignant chord for many Israeli women activists.

It is because of this keenly felt connection that the movement against the Lebanon invasion was comprised largely of women. “All the elements of this war bring the issues together,” feminist activist Yana Knopova told Lily Galili of Haaretz during an August 11 rally in Tel Aviv: “Feminism, social justice, class distinctions, the environment, and the occupation. Women make this connection.” Many of the leading voices against the war were those of women, including the Women In Black, the umbrella organization Coalition of Women for Peace, and Women Against War, which was formed shortly after the first attack on Lebanon. Hannah Safran, a co-founder of Women Against War, writes on the organization’s website, “We have just completed six years of peace and quiet in the north, but we kept Lebanese prisoners in captivity, not willing to return them or to negotiate their release. Why?” Women Against War co-founder Abir Kopty, who is an Arab-Israeli activist, explained that “we don’t want to see any citizens on both sides killed because of an avoidable war.” The two also belong to the Haifa chapter of the Women in Black, which began its weekly vigils in 1988 and continued them throughout the summer of 2006 in spite of death threats, harassment, and the ever-present threat of Katyusha attacks.

In the months following this summer’s war, the Israeli Left has found itself at an unprecedented crossroads. The war, in conjunction with the ongoing violence stemming from the Gaza Strip, has posed a serious challenge to the traditional premise of the peace movement, which is that the key ingredient in regional peace is withdrawal to Israel’s pre-1967 borders. The dominant view, even among the Left, was that the 2005 Disengagement Plan and the 2000 withdrawal from Lebanon had failed to ensure Israel’s national security. In the eyes of many Israelis, the peace movement itself had failed. The existence of strong, organized opposition toward this war nonetheless demonstrates the likelihood that the summer of 2006 represented not the death of the Israeli peace movement, but rather a new beginning for a movement better acquainted with the philosophical issues looming beyond an ostensibly territorial dispute. The role of feminism this summer is a testament to the possibility that the peace movement will emerge strengthened and better prepared to look beyond the obvious questions of territory and into the deeper myths and ideologies that continue to drive the conflict. ♦

Valerie Saturen is a graduate student in Near Eastern Studies at the University of Arizona. She can be reached at saturen@daysbeyondrecall.org.

Days Beyond Recall Vol. 1 No. 3

The full issue of Days Beyond Recall, March 2007. Includes Howard Zinn, "I Witness Middle East" with firsthand accounts of the July/August 2006 conflict in Israel, Lebanon, and Palestine, and a variety of original creative writing and art.

Read the full issue here:

http://blog.tucsonweekly.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/March%20Final.pdf

Distortion & Distraction: Media, Terrorism, and the Middle East

A Conversation With Alternative Radio's David Barsamian

By Valerie Saturen and Gabriel Matthew Schivone

VS: You have discussed the phenomenon of using the passive voice within the mainstream media. In a January 23, 2003 interview with the El Dorado Sun, you said: “The use of the passive voice in journalism excludes agency and obfuscates responsibility. The headlines: 'People in Afghanistan were killed,' 'Lives were lost,' and 'Children starved' are all passive constructions — there's no agency. The active voice is absolutely critical in writing journalism."

I think the active voice is absolutely essential in providing clarity to readers or listeners and viewers so that they understand who is responsible for these acts, and that we’re not dealing with acts of nature. There is state responsibility. So, “Palestinian villages were razed,” “houses were demolished.” Well, how were they demolished? Through some magic? Was it some Houdini magician that came along and was responsible for that? There are enormous political implications in the use of language. If you want to trash the environment, if you want to clear cut trees, then you call it the “Healthy Forest Initiative.” You say that you’re green, and you wave a green flag. If you want to pollute the air, you talk about “Clear Skies.” If you want to gut public education, you call it “No Child Left Behind.” I call it “No Child Left a Dime.” So the use of language is critical. Orwell, of course, was brilliant in describing this, particularly in his essay “Politics and the English Language.” And Chomsky and others have talked about how language is used to manipulate and control the public mind. So now we’re in a “War on Terror.” Everyone accepts that. In fact, on NPR this morning, they said “most Americans are unhappy with the war in Iraq, but they support the War on Terror.”

VS: I'd like to ask you about that. During the same interview, you described terms such as "beacon of democracy," “axis of evil,” and “the war on terror” as “terms of propaganda rather than terms of description.” Even those who challenge the narrative behind these catch phrases often find themselves using them, simply because this is the only terminology everyone understands. How does one avoid this pitfall?

By clearly defining its parameters and its reality, and then trying to create an alternative vocabulary. I always say, “The so-called War on Terror,” because it is not a war on terror. That’s like having a war on jealousy. How can you have a war on terror? If there are criminal acts carried out by individuals or small groups, then that is a matter for police, not for invasions and occupations of countries. I’m not a big fan of the British Empire, but look how it dealt with the uprisings in Northern Ireland. If it followed what the U.S. did, it would have demolished New York and Boston, because that’s where the money for the IRA was coming from. All the arms were being purchased in the United States and being shipped to Ireland. There would have been huge air attacks on Belfast and other cities and towns in Northern Ireland. But they didn’t do that; it was a limited military and police action. It was brutal, but it was much more contained than what the US is doing in Afghanistan and Iraq, and what it is proposing to do in Iran, which is scarier.

VS: As someone of Armenian descent, the Armenian genocide is clearly something close to your heart. You once stated that the Armenian genocide "is not an abstract, ancient history; it's our present and our daily life.” There remains a pervasive denial in Turkey of the genocide, and Turkish novelists Orhan Pamuk and Elif Shafak have been placed on trial for referencing the genocide in their work. What are your thoughts on the impact of the trials of Elif Shafak and Orhan Pamuk?

Well, it has brought an enormous amount of attention to Turkey and its very restricted and narrow definition of how history should be constructed under article 301 of the Turkish Penal Code [which makes it a crime to "insult Turkish identity"]. Under 301, it is extremely difficult for anyone to speak out in a forceful way about Turkish history and Turkish realities. Orhan Pamuk, of course, is a Nobel Prize winner and very well known. Shafak’s book The Bastard of Istanbul just came out, and there are other books out. There are more and more writers speaking out. This is very, very important because writers occupy a unique place in the cultural life of the community. They simply cannot be dismissed as political hacks or opportunists that are trying to be elected. And so I think things are changing in Turkey. Tragically, it may have taken the assassination of Hrant Dink on January 19 by a Turkish nationalist, a young boy who may or may not have been set up by other forces to do their dirty work, because children (in this case he’s 17) won’t get the death penalty. That’s the speculation. It’s important that Turkey face the past so that it can be in the present and move forward into the future. And it’s important for the Armenians to have recognition and resolution, so that this issue can be closed. It’s just hanging over all of us like a Damocles sword. It’s never resolved; it’s an open wound. In my own family, three of my four grandparents were murdered, and 22 out of 25 members of my mother’s family were killed. We lost everything, and every Armenian in the diaspora has some connection to that genocide, to those events that occurred not just in 1915 but continued right through 1922. Elif Shafak and Orhan Pamuk should be honored and praised for speaking out, speaking the truth.

VS: Why is there such a strong taboo within Turkey against addressing and even acknowledging the genocide?

Turkey has a history of militarism, patriarchy, and machismo, and it seems very difficult for them to acknowledge that this crime occurred. We’re not talking about people today; we’re talking about people 90 years ago. I don’t know why [the taboo exists]. I think it’s a fear; it’s a deep-rooted fear of acknowledging reality, that crimes were committed, and that millions of Armenians were killed, displaced, or converted to Islam. I’ve met people all over Turkey who’ve told me, “Oh, my grandmother was Armenian.” Oh really? How did she become Muslim?

GMS: Let’s talk about the politics of terrorism. Eqbal Ahmad, who was a professor of International Relations and Middle Eastern Studies at Hampshire College in Amherst, observed in an August 1998 interview that “The United States has sowed in the Middle East and South Asia very poisonous seeds. These seeds are growing now. Some have ripened, and others are ripening. An examination of why they were sown, what has grown, and how they should be reaped is needed. Missiles won’t solve the problem.” Would you talk about the dire relevance of his words today in the current “War on Terror” and what this thoughtful analysis means for people and society nine years later?

Well, you see the foresight and prophetic quality of Eqbal Ahmad, who is one of the most brilliant people I’ve ever met—very creative, innovative, always looking for alternatives for existing situations and problems. Even while decrying, perhaps, a particular situation, he felt it incumbent on the role of an intellectual to provide alternatives, to provide answers, not just to critique. So that, I think, is very, very valuable. Everything he says in that quote, of course, has come true. The United States, first under Clinton and then under Bush, has militarized the whole issue of terrorism. Terrorism has proliferated under the so-called “War on Terror.” It is now a growing international problem. The 9/11 Commission Report and the Baker-Hamilton Report show that the attack on Iraq—the criminal aggression in Iraq—has greatly exacerbated and emboldened the jihad. The Baker-Hamilton Report calls Iraq the “cause celeb” for jihadis, like it’s some kind of gala spectacle or Hollywood premiere. Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11. Iraq has everything to do with oil. Iraq has everything to do with the Project for the New American Century and the neo-con dream to turn the Middle East into an American link, which they’ve virtually done. The entire region has been militarized. Iran is being threatened with military action. Iran is completely surrounded with U.S. bases. A major U.S. naval armada is right off the coast of Iran. Rhetoric is being ratcheted up, and Iran also had nothing to do with September 11. In fact, they were an ally with the United States. They helped oust the Taliban from Afghanistan. Iran, in the year 2000, almost went to war with the Taliban because Iranian council members were massacred in Mazar-e-Sharif. So how is Bush able to pull this all off? By manipulating the servile support of the U.S. corporate media, which went along with all the lies and became more like stenographers than journalists. They don’t really do journalism.

GMS: I’d like to ask you about that. In an editorial in the London Tribune, in July of 1944, George Orwell observed “the voluntary reticence” in the pathology of the British press, deducing that: “Circus dogs jump when their trainer cracks the whip, but the really well-trained dog is the one that turns his somersault when there is no whip.” I’m very interested in the subtleties of self-censorship, the inducements to which individuals conform to the party line, so to speak. Could you talk about this function, how it is instilled among journalists and in the front lines, in the notion of embedding?

It’s hard to come up with a more Orwellian phrase than “embedded.” In fact, you know, “sleeping with the enemy.” How can you have any distance and objectivity if you’re being protected by the people you’re supposedly covering? Structurally, it just reeks of such an inequality and imbalance that your ability to perform your task as a journalist is severely compromised, so I don’t give it any credibility at all. The whole system of censorship works through a series of perks, and it’s very seductive. If you play ball with power, you will be richly rewarded. Look at Bob Woodward—he lives in a Georgetown townhouse. He’s a millionaire. He’s all over the other corporate media. He’s very successful; when he calls someone, the calls are returned. Thomas Friedman plays golf or tennis with the Secretary of State, and he brags about it. I would be ashamed. I would feel so debased if the Secretary of State even had my telephone number and would invite me to play tennis or golf with him or her. You would have to think, well, what do they want from me? Do they admire me as an independent journalist? Hardly. They want to manipulate and control the news. This is all about spin and propaganda. So the system is very seductive. When you go into the Oval Office and the President greets you by your first name: “Hi Val, how are you? How’s the family? Are you doing OK?” He’s totally briefed on your background and doesn’t know you from Adam or Eve. But you feel that you’re a part of something. And then you’re called on in a press conference: “Yeah, you back there, Gabe, how’s it going?” So you become part of this fraternity, part of a cohort--and it eliminates the possibility to do objective journalism. You’re just a stenographer; you become a court reporter, and that’s what most of the Washington reporters are.

GMS: I’d like to talk about media, propaganda, and the State. In various lectures you’ve cited Reich Marshall Herman Goering: “The people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and then denounce the peacemakers for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.” It's quite clear that wars of various sorts in our history have been carried out by the media or public relations campaigns inducing consent among public opinion, usually from fear and nationalism.

Let’s talk about the fundamental structure of corporate media in the United States. Under the Nazis, the Ministry for Popular Enlightenment operated as a government department specifically designed for propaganda. But in this society, the government has not the power to control the media and they operate as an independent entity yet function in much the same way as Goering testified.

Well, that’s not entirely true about the electronic media, which is licensed by the federal government. Every TV station, every radio station, does in fact have that structural relationship with the State. Print media are not licensed in the same way that electronic media are. Today, in an age where 80% of Americans get 90% of their news from the electronic media, particularly television, that’s very significant. Ben Bagdikian has tracked the conglomeration, monopolization, and centralization of the media from 50 in 1983 to 5 today. This severely limits the ability of media to provide Americans with a broad range of opinions in order to get information and to understand what’s going on. Instead of having perspectives and views from A to Z, I’ve been saying for years we have perspectives from A to B. But now I’m revising that—it’s more like A to A squared. You get this representative from the Brookings Institute and this representative from the Heritage Foundation, and there’s a so-called debate, but this debate is entirely based on imbedded assumptions, like that the U.S. has the right to attack, invade, and occupy any country in the world. There is no one there challenging that basic imbedded assumption. The media have largely become an apparatus of propaganda.

VS: Due to the American role in the Middle East, the region receives a tremendous amount of coverage within the American media. How can we better understand this role and its subsequent impact on how the region is portrayed?

The idea that the U.S. is even-handed or an honest broker is so incredibly ludicrous and preposterous as to defy any kind of description. We are extremely hostile to Arab nationalism. We’ve done everything possible to crush Arab nationalism, and in fact have supported fundamentalist Muslim organizations. This was particularly true in Egypt, when the U.S. was opposed to Nasser, because Nasser represented an independent force. The U.S. supported Saddam Hussein and helped the Ba’athist coup in 1963 against the nationalist government of Qassim.

There is no area in the world that is more subject to propaganda than the Middle East. There are two reasons for that: one is oil, and the other is Israel. The US expends maximum military and diplomatic support to a country of six million people, completely dwarfing military aid and diplomatic support to any other country on Earth. The other thing is the oil reserves of the region, which the U.S. is obsessed with, and has been since the end of WWII. A State Department document in 1945 described the oil reserves in the Middle East as “the greatest strategic prize in the history of the world.” So Israel has become an attack dog, a land-based aircraft carrier for the United States. U.S. policy has put the residents of Israel in, I think, enormous danger and peril. I think it’s very manipulative, and history shows us that there is no guarantee that this policy will continue in the future. History shows us that those who are weak today will be strong tomorrow. Israel today has maximum military superiority in the Middle East. That’s not a permanent situation.

David Barsamian is the host of nationally syndicated Alternative Radio and the recipient of many honors, including the Upton Sinclair Award, the Rocky Mountain Peace and Justice Center Award, and the Cultural Freedom Fellowship from the Lannan Foundation in Santa Fe. His many published works include Targeting Iran with Noam Chomsky, Ervand Abrahamian, and Nahid Mozaffari, The Future of History with Howard Zinn, The Checkbook and the Cruise Missile with Arundhati Roy, and The Pen and the Sword with Edward Said. His numerous in-depth interviews with Noam Chomsky have sold hundreds of thousands of copies worldwide.

Creating a Facebook Community: Networking Site Changing the Face of Jewish Campus Life

With Sam Guzik, Ben Greenberg, Jordan Magaziner, Daniel Smajovits, and Steven I. Weiss. Published January 9, 2007 in The Jewish Week.

http://joi.org/bloglinks/The%20Jewish%20Week%20Facebook.htm

Jewish life on campus has a changing face because of Facebook.com.

Students and organizations are taking advantage of the social networking site launched in 2004 that allows users to make a profile, create and join numerous groups, and post messages to other members and groups.

“It’s already had a direct effect on the expectations that Hillel is putting into its resources,” said Hillel’s Simon Amiel, who is charged with overseeing the Jewish campus organization’s outreach fellows.

“Ten years ago, 15 years ago, the goal was to get students in the building,” he explained, adding “that’s still a nice goal for us ... but it’s far more of an important goal to say there are 500 students having a Jewish experience every week, inside the building or out.”

Facebook’s ability to create ad-hoc communities is seen as its greatest strength.

When an Iranian-American student was Tasered by campus police at the University of California Los Angeles, thousands of students registered their protest within days by joining groups created to complain about the incident.

Jewish students and groups on Facebook are taking similar advantage of the site’s possibilities. A Jewish group was launched recently to gather right-wing Israel advocates to protest a book signing by former President Carter on the same day in New York City. Another group is called “American Jews Against Israel.”

Along the way, Jewish students are finding new ways to associate with each other and new aspects of their identities.

Janice Hussain is a junior at Brandeis University, and the daughter of Indian and Jewish parents, and until she started using Facebook, she didn’t know there were many other Jews of a similar ethnicity.

“At Brandeis, if I wanted to meet someone who was Asian and Jewish, or Indian or half-Indian, I couldn’t,” she said in an interview.

So Hussain this semester launched a group called “Asian and Jewish,” inviting a handful of people at Brandeis who were of Asian and Jewish descent. Before she knew it the group reached 90 members from various campuses.

Now that she’s had success online, Hussain is considering new endeavors for Jewish life on her campus, with which she’s had little involvement thus far.

“I was actually thinking of maybe starting a club at Brandeis for Jews that are not fully Ashkenazi, or Jews of color, and to have an event or maybe have a lecture,” she said.

Hussain’s experience in finding common heritage is far from unique on Facebook for Jews of mixed descent.

“What seems to be coming up over and over again is a place for students that are from a mixed-parentage family,” Amiel said, noting that Facebook’s self-starting nature allows Jewish students to “make connections that are more organic.”

On Facebook, most of the traditional categories for Judaism and religious activity in general are far less popular than alternative expressions of identity.

Jews on Facebook are using nontraditional identifiers far more than any standard declaration. Several groups are titled “I don’t roll on Shabbos,” after a line in the cult movie “The Big Lebowski.”

Hundreds of students belong to these groups, and most of them belong to hundreds of other groups that express their Jewish identities.

While statistics are not available for the site, an informal survey of multiple campuses has shown consistently that most Jewish students will call themselves “Jewish” or some manifestation thereof in the “Religious Views” box only about 10 percent of the time.

At Indiana University, even the Hillel president, Joanna Blotner, doesn’t call herself “Jewish” on her profile.

“It’s because you don’t want to actively make yourself part of the minority,” she explained. “It’s probably the same reason a lot of gays and lesbians don’t identify themselves.”

It’s a trend that Jewish officials can’t explain.

“Of any place, being on Facebook is one of the most safe places to identify as Jewish,” Amiel said.

At the same time, traditional Jewish institutions have employed the site as well, finding Facebook to be far more effective than e-mail in getting students to attend their events.

“People, in my experience, are more likely to attend an event if they are personally invited,” said Alex Freedman, president of the Jewish Student Union at Washington University. “The group and event invitation serves that function on a grand scale — it allows the word to be spread better among a target audience quicker than any other medium.”

Meanwhile, Facebook’s implementation of a new feature called “News Feeds” allows students to see the groups or events their friends are joining.

“All of a sudden, people no longer had to be individually invited to a group or to an event, they could see what their friends were doing,” said Andy Ratto, Washington University Hillel’s JCSC fellow. “This has been extremely useful because people might be rather unlikely to go to an event where they didn’t know anyone who would be there, but all of a sudden people would find out about an event because their friends were going to it, and then they would want to come, too.”

While those results aren’t the expectation for Hillel events at a given campus, the function still makes a difference, Freedman said.

It “saves us a lot of phone calls, a lot of fliers and a lot of time,” he said.

(CampusJ.com is a Web site that covers Jewish life on college campuses. Reporting by Sam Guzik, Ben Greenberg, Jordan Magaziner, Valerie Saturen, Daniel Smajovits and Steven I. Weiss.)

JFCS Refugee Resettlement Program Ends

Published October 12, 2007 in the Arizona Jewish Post.

http://tucson.ujcfedweb.org/page.html?ArticleID=159949

When Tatyana Nemenman’s family left Kiev in 1992, fleeing anti-Semitism and the Chernobyl disaster, they arrived in Tucson to find welcome balloons at the airport and an apartment with a fully stocked refrigerator. Barred from attending university in the former Soviet Union, Nemenman enrolled in a pre-med program at Pima Community College with the help of Jewish Family & Children’s Service of Southern Arizona. When her grandmother passed away, JFCS made funeral arrangements and organized a celebration of her life. “The first couple of years,” says Nemenman, “without JFCS, we would not have survived. They were so warm, so welcoming.”

Through a partnership with the national Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS), JFCS helped resettle more than 2,000 refugees within the past 18 years. The resettlement program provided language instruction, citizenship application, housing, skills-building and job placement, and assistance with the adjustment to life in American society. Often, volunteers opened their homes to the new immigrants. The job placement program boasted a 94 percent success rate.
Within recent years, the resettlement program faced an uphill battle in reconciling dwindling funds with the rising cost of services. In the aftermath of 9/11, the reduction in number of refugees allowed into the country drastically reduced the federal funds upon which the program relied. The agency now faced a heartbreaking decision: continue to provide services at a far lower quality level, or end the program altogether. After lengthy deliberation, JFCS concluded that if the agency was unable to render the quality of service it felt clients deserved, the program would have to be disbanded.

Staff and volunteers express a mixture of pride in the program’s achievements and sorrow over its inability to remain operable. Carol Sack, chief development officer at JFCS, says, “We have been honored and privileged to have participated in refugee resettlement throughout the years we’ve been doing it. It was with great regret that we made this very hard decision.”
CEO Lois Manowitz shares the sentiment. “The agency made a very difficult, painful decision to no longer do refugee resettlement, but we are extraordinarily proud of the program’s history.” She describes the program as “the fulfillment of one of the best Jewish values upon which our mission was based: tikkun olam, or repairing the world.”
The resettlement program leaves behind a long and diverse legacy. Initially, the program aided Jewish immigrants fleeing the former Soviet Union. When these immigrants stopped coming, JFCS extended its services to non-Jewish refugees from Bosnia, Burma, Somalia, Sudan, Ethiopia, Liberia, and Burundi.

Recently, JFCS has devoted many of its services to the Lost Boys of Sudan, who walked hundreds of miles to escape civil war. Among them is 22-year-old Bior Keech, a business economics senior at the University of Arizona. At 17, Bior began the long, treacherous journey that brought him first to Kenya, and eventually to Tucson. Of the resettlement program, he recalls, “It was great. They really welcomed us.” He remembers the volunteers with special fondness. “They were one of the things that made our experience a lot better,” he says, during the initial culture shock of coming to the United States. Bior plans to attend graduate school, and to use his education to help improve the economic situation in Sudan as well as to educate Americans about the country’s plight.

Among the volunteers who helped Bior is Jill Rich, who has volunteered for all of the program’s 18 years and has mentored 94 refugees. Rich was immediately captivated by the story of the Lost Boys and has worked intensively with them. She and her husband, Jim, have hosted many of the Lost Boys in their home, leading her to become known as “the ‘mom’ of the group.” For the last six years, Rich reports, “we’ve had a full house.” At first, the Lost Boys’ rural background meant little familiarity with modern technology. Painstakingly, the young men had to learn how to use the stove, refrigerator and can opener — not to mention the computer. None of these challenges stymied them in their desire for an education, and many have achieved outstanding academic success.

While no longer accepting new refugees as of this month, the program continues to work with its current clients while transitioning them to other agencies. Although the program is drawing to a close, the relationships forged between staff, volunteers and the refugees continue to have a lasting impact. Like many volunteers, Rich keeps in touch with her former clients. “They’re very much a part of what I’ll always do,” she says.

Valerie Saturen received her M.A. in Near Eastern Studies from the University of Arizona in 2007. She lives in Tucson.

Divine Suffering in Shiism: Origins and Political Implications

Published in Iran Analysis Quarterly Vol. 2 No. 4, July-September 2005, pp. 22-42.

http://isg-mit.org/IAQ-storage/IAQ242005.pdf

Abstract: In the year 680 A.D., on the tenth of the month Muharram, a brutal massacre claimed the lives of Imam Husayn and some 50 loyal followers and family members. What became known as the Battle of Karbala has served as the pivotal moment in history for the Shi’a of Iran, Iraq, and Lebanon, who commemorate the tragedy each year through passionate rituals full of fervent, heartfelt emotion. For the Shi’a, keeping alive the memory of Husayn means more than simply recalling the events of his life and death. It entails active sharing in the Imam’s suffering, augmented by a pervasive identification with Husayn’s status as the ultimate righteous victim. Since the Shi’a doctrine is as political as it is religious, the imprint left upon the collective Shi’a identity by Husayn’s death carries deep political implications that remain relevant today.

From Haifa to Kotel, Local Family's Bar Mitzvah Experience 'Transcendent'

Published September 14, 2007 in the Arizona Jewish Post

http://tucson.ujcfedweb.org/page.html?ArticleID=158266

For C.J. Montefiore, becoming a Bar Mitzvah this spring meant being encircled by 50,000 Jews from all walks of life, many of whom had flocked to Jerusalem for the Passover holiday.
C.J. Montefiore with his godfather, Richard Berg and his father David, at the Kotel.

C.J. — it stands for Cortland Jerushalmi — and his family decided to celebrate the occasion in two separate ceremonies in Israel. The first took place on C.J.’s birthday, March 31, at the Reform Or Hadash synagogue in Haifa. The ceremony fell on Shabbat HaGadol, the Shabbat immediately before Passover. The second ceremony was performed at the Kotel on Thursday, April 5, during Chol HaMoed Pesach, the intermediate days of the holiday.
The family chose to have two ceremonies in order to accommodate guests with differing styles and levels of observance. “As a cantor,” says C.J.’s father, David Montefiore, “I’m sensitive to all spectrums of religiosity and observance. We have friends that span the spectrum, those who are very modern and Reform, and those who are traditional. We tried to cover all the bases.”

The family’s connection to Israel is deeply felt. Abi Montefiore, C.J.’s mother, was assistant to Danny Bobman, who served as director of Tucson’s Israel Center through June. Bobman and Dan Karsh, co-chair of the Israel Center, flew to Israel to attend the Bar Mitzvah. David, a cantor and former president of the Jewish Ministers Cantors Association of America, had toured the beleaguered country shortly after its 2006 conflict along the northern border. His visit was part of Mitzvah Emunah, or Operation Faith, which brought cantors from around the world to Israel in a show of support. The tour included a concert at Or Hadash, which had been strongly affected by the conflict.

“I was so impressed with Rabbi (Edgar) Nof and the way we were received,” says David, “that I decided that this would be a great place for C.J. to have his Bar Mitzvah.”
At the Kotel, C.J. recalls, he was surrounded by thousands of worshippers of all stripes, creating an unforgettable atmosphere of spiritual celebration.
“You had every manner of Jew there, particularly the Chasidim,” David remembers. “It was fantastic. It was such a ruach (spirit).” The occasion was made all the more memorable when the family watched a videotape of the ceremony and noticed Israel’s two chief rabbis, Rabbi Shlomo Amar and Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau, standing on the balcony of a nearby kollel, or religious school.
C.J. says that his greatest memories of his Bar Mitzvah are “the Kohanim on Pesach and the 50,000 people praying. We’re just surrounded and swarmed all over, and you hear [the chief rabbis], and you hear the Kohanim, and they’re just chanting. It was just a wonderful feeling.”
“The energy from the thousands of visitors to the Kotel that day was indescribable, totally fulfilling and transcendent,” says Abi.

C.J. Montefiore with his mother, Abi, on the bimah at Congregation Or Hadash in Haifa.
C.J. donated a portion of his Bar Mitzvah gifts to the Friends of the IDF, which supports social, educational, and recreational programs for Israeli soldiers, as well as providing support for widows and orphans of fallen troops. “I wanted to help them out because of the war,” he says. While C.J. says he hadn’t worried about his father’s safety, the conflict hit close to home for the family during David’s trip to Israel with the Mitzvah Emunah project, when a Kassam rocket landed (but did not explode) in Sderot not far from where David was meeting with the city’s mayor, Eli Moyal.

C.J. davens at the Western Wall

The family spent two weeks in Israel this spring, which afforded them plenty of time for sightseeing. C.J., who had not been to Israel before, was especially fond of the Old City of Jerusalem. “It was fun going all around it and through all the Quarters,” he says. “It was such a nice place to be, with lots of people around.” The Montefiores spent time exploring the excavated tunnels beneath the Old City, and also visited several other cities and sites, including Ein Gedi, Qumran, Akko, Tsfat and Tel Aviv.
During Passover, the streets were thoroughly clogged with travelers, but that _didn’t dampen C.J.’s enthusiasm for Israel.

“I had a really wonderful time just being there, going all over and being with my family,” he says. “It was a lot of fun.”

Valerie Saturen received her M.A. in Near Eastern Studies from the University of Arizona in 2007. She lives in Tucson.

CampusJ Archive

A collection of my reporting with CampusJ, a news website aimed at Jewish college students. To view the archive, click the link below:

http://campusj.com/author/vsaturen/

"Fahrenheit 9/11" Shows How Polarized This nation Is

Published July 12, 2004 in The Baltimore Chronicle

http://baltimorechronicle.com/071204ValerieSaturen.html

This battle of hysterias has contributed immensely to an even deeper, far more devastating loss: the ability to think critically and see the larger picture.

Driving through streets lined with new flags and billboards proclaiming "United We Stand" on the way to Michael Moore's blockbuster "Fahrenheit 9/11," one is powerfully reminded of the polarized atmosphere surrounding this election. In such a climate, dogma becomes rigid, loyalties are sharply drawn, and nuanced or moderate voices are often pushed to the side.

The irony is that, for all the finger-pointing, both sides rely upon the same emotional ploys, the same scapegoating, and the same "with us or against us" mentality in order to herd the American public in favor of their respective agendas.

As Moore successfully points out in his new film, the Bush administration was adept at using the vulnerable post-9/11 climate of grief, outrage, and fear to elevate his own political position. Many of us can vividly recall the images that filled our screens following the attacks: first the heart-wrenching scenes of carnage (accompanied by sweeping, mournful music), then infuriating images of the Enemy celebrating our pain. Finally, onto the screen would flash a resolute George W. Bush, against a backdrop of waving flags and moving renditions of "God Bless America." Whatever his faults in the arenas of policy making and word pronunciation, Bush demonstrated his expertise as a propagandist, effectively appealing to our emotions under the guise of apparent logic.

Unfortunately, in his urgency to expose the President, Moore resorts to many of the same emotional ploys he condemns in his subject. Among the opening scenes in "Fahrenheit 9/11" are sequences mirroring Bush's own visual rhetoric: the same devastating images of Ground Zero (insert sweeping, tragic soundtrack), followed by an enraging eyeful of another Enemy (Bush), reaping the rewards of our suffering against sinister music. The simplicity and black-and-white absolutism in the film stand in stark contrast with Moore's previous work, such as the ground-breaking and far more nuanced "Roger and Me."

It is important for people on both sides to foster an appreciation for the complexity of political situations, as well as the diversity of motives among those in either camp.

How are we to account for this change? Clearly, this aspect of "F-9/11" is largely a product of the growing polarization of American society and the extremely charged nature of the upcoming election. It is, perhaps, an element of human nature that prompts us to find unprecedented unity in the face of a common enemy. It is a trait that leads us-unfortunately-to act only when things have spiraled into crisis, and to raise our voices only when subtlety has already been made obsolete. Why did it take a tragedy of the proportions of 9/11 to bring out our unity as a nation? Why did it take a hasty, unnecessary war to send thousands into the streets in the affirmation of life against corporate greed?

In this election, few voters will be voting with their consciences. Rather, they will vote with their fear and outrage, not for an appealing candidate, but against an opponent. Liberals and Democrats, regardless of their support for John Kerry's platform, are mobilized to exfoliate Bush from the Oval Office; Conservatives and Republicans prepare to stand down the subversive, presumably un-American elements in their midst. Both sides are primarily moved not by their own intrinsic convictions, but by apocalyptic visions of the end of civilization as we know it.

This is understandable, in light both of America's vulnerability to further terrorist attacks and the steady diminishing of the very civil liberties that make us the great nation we are. However, this battle of hysterias has contributed immensely to an even deeper, far more devastating loss: the ability to think critically and see the larger picture.

We stand at a critical moment in American history, and our decisions now are sure to have dramatic repercussions for future generations. The level of crisis we face in such difficult times does not have to preclude the ability to think for ourselves, rationally, or to encourage this ability in others.

It is important for people on both sides to foster an appreciation for the complexity of political situations, as well as the diversity of motives among those in either camp. Americans who oppose the war in Iraq, for example, should be able to distinguish between the agendas of policy makers intent on reaping financial benefits from the conflict and the intentions of ordinary people who genuinely sought to bring democracy to Iraq. Conversely, those who support the war must recognize that many dissenters do indeed support our troops, precisely by trying to ensure that they are not sent to fight and die unnecessarily.

Among the strengths of Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 9/11" is its success in bringing to light many facts about the war that were previously unknown to many viewers. The disclosure of facts and information is the pillar of a truly enlightened, democratic society. Let's leave the conclusions to the people.

The Other Zionist Conspiracy: A History of Christian Zionism

Published February 2006 in Zeek: A Journal of Jewish Thought & Culture

http://www.zeek.net/christianzionism/

The 2004 U.S. presidential elections left little doubt about the rise of the Christian Right. Polls indicated that “moral values” topped the list of voter concerns, surpassing the economy, the environment, and even the war, and the symbolic campaigns against gay marriage and abortion mobilized broad sections of the electorate, in particular the "five million new Evangelical voters" whom Karl Rove promised, and delivered, to his president. A year and a half on, the rise of the Christian Right is keenly felt in many areas. Soon-to-be Justice Samuel Alito is certain to enshrine its moral agenda within the Supreme Court's new "strict constructionist" jurisprudence, which allows government much more latitude in regulating moral conduct, even as its "new federalist" doctrines constrict the government's regulation of economic conduct. The "mood" of the country is said to be drifting rightward. And, of course, Israel.

As Israel enters its own election season (and the Palestinians conclude theirs, with ominous and uncertain results), the role of the deeply influential phenomenon known as Christian Zionism is increasingly becoming better known. On the surface, Christian Zionism seems benign enough. It appears to be steeped in concern for the fate of the Jewish people and grounded in sympathy for the Jews’ long history of persecution and yearning for a homeland. Christian Zionist leaders often claim deep admiration for the Jews, describing them as “God’s Chosen people.” However, beyond the outpouring of support for Zionism and Israel that has long been part of the conservative Christian movement lies an apocalyptic motive that is troubling, even sinister, in its implications for both the Jewish people and the global community.

It is well known that Christian Zionism derives its ideology from the belief that the Jews have a role to play in the End of Days: the Jews' dominion over Israel is, itself, a sign of the impending apocalypse, and the presence of the Jews there is essential for the predicted apocalyptic drama to unfold. Less well known, however, are the details and history of that doctrine, and exactly how seriously it is taken today. In fact, predictions of apocalypse are taken very seriously. According to a 1999 Newsweek poll, 40% of Americans (45% of Christian Americans; and 71% of Evangelical Protestants) believe the world will end as the Bible predicts. And of that population, 47% believe the Antichrist is already on Earth, now. In other words, the apocalypse is not an abstract, far-off notion. Thus it is urgent to inquire after its history, and consider its consequences today.

A Brief History of the End of the World

Although Christian Zionist ideology draws from the Old Testament books of Daniel and Ezekiel, its primary inspiration is the New Testament's Book of Revelations. Revelations details a horrific vision in which Earth is largely decimated by a series of plagues, and an “animal with ten horns and seven heads” emerges to lead the peoples of the world into blasphemy and destruction with the help of another beast performing false miracles and bearing the mark (666 -- originally a numerological reference to the Roman Emperor Nero, but now, of course, bearing other connotations). Following the appearance of a Lamb, generally thought to symbolize Christ, a great battle ensues between the forces of good and evil. All of humanity is divided into the categories of “saved” and “unsaved,” the former of which are destined to be “raptured up” to God while the rest of humanity perishes in a gruesome scene of global carnage.

Although most Christians interpret Revelations as allegory, Evangelical Christian Zionists tend to adopt a literal approach. Of course, "literal" is itself not entirely literal, since chariots and fire are not exactly airplanes and missiles. However, when questioned about the discrepancy between John’s descriptions and the realities of modern life and weaponry, they assert that John was merely relaying what he saw through the only language he knew. Thus, helicopter gunships become “locusts” whose wings sound “like the noise of a great number of chariots and horses rushing into battle” (9:3-10), and nuclear missiles become “a great star [that] fell from heaven, blazing like a torch” (8:10). Indeed, it is thought that recent advances in technology account for much of the growing belief in apocalyptic prophecy, particularly as the world entered the nuclear age.

In America, Christian Zionist doctrines have their roots in 17th century New England, where millennialism (the anticipation of the Second Coming, preceded by a period of global turmoil) emerged among the Puritans. The Puritans, who viewed themselves as the new Israel, expressed interest in Jewish conversion and restoration of the non-converted Jews to Palestine. Increase Mather, and his son Cotton Mather, often couched his calls for absolute moral purity in proclamations about the impending Second Coming, which required the restoration of the Jews. While the movement was more fervent in England during the 19th century, the Americans began to match England’s fervor with the rise of dispensationalism, pioneered by defrocked Anglican priest John Nelson Darby. Unlike the millenialists before them, followers of dispensationalism maintained that the End Times had already begun. In Darby’s view, world history could be divided into seven distinct epochs, or dispensations, and humanity is rapidly approaching the dawn of the final age. (Mormons, Millerites, and many other sects had similar views.)

Toward the end of the 19th century, Darby collaborated with leading evangelist Dwight L. Moody to establish the Chicago Bible House, which transformed the premillenialist movement and became one of its major training centers. Moody’s sermons were filled with references to Jews, whom he regarded as the sinning sons of Israel who had disobeyed God, as well as the vicious crowd that had called for the execution of Jesus and cried out “his blood is upon us and upon our children.” His sermons contained an unmistakable element of antisemitism, and he also regarded the Jews collectively as a “greedy and materialistic” people, citing the Rothschilds as an example.

This period was also marked by the cultivation of Messianic Judaism, which Moody discovered to be a highly effective missionary strategy, enabling its converts to retain their ethnic identity as Jews while adopting Christian beliefs. Simultaneously, massively popular gatherings such as the Niagra Conferences and the International Prophetic Conferences aided the movement’s development. During one Chicago conference, speaker Nathaniel West reinforced his belief in Zionism by likening the suffering of the Jewish people to that of Christ himself. What many in the Jewish community apparently failed to grasp was that while the sentiment outwardly served as a moving display of sympathy toward the Jewish plight, by Jewish suffering to that of a man who was said to have died for the sake of Christian redemption, West also reinforced the symbolic role of the Jew as scapegoat.

Missionary activity among the Jews grew following the establishment of the Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. The institution’s ambivalent attitude toward Jews was embodied by one of its early directors, James M. Gray, who outspokenly denounced anti-Jewish violence on the one hand, while on the other expressing the belief that the infamous Russian forgery The Protocols of the Elders of Zion was authentic evidence of a global Jewish conspiracy. In 1891, Moody disciple William E. Blackstone bridged the gap between Christian Zionist belief and political activism by launching a petition endorsing Jewish restoration in Palestine. The petition, signed by 413 eminent American leaders, helped deepen ties between Blackstone and Jewish community leaders, leading to the formation of the Christian-Jewish Conference of 1890. Because of Blackstone’s support of Zionism and efforts on behalf of the persecuted Jewish community in Russia, he established lasting contacts with leaders of the American Zionist movement, such as Adam Rosenberg, president of the New York branch of Hoveve Zion (Lovers of Zion). Though Blackstone had, in his influential book Jesus Is Coming, attributed Jewish suffering to the Jews’ failure to accept Christ, he appeared frequently as an honored guest at Zionist conferences and had close relationships with Zionist figures such as Nathan Straus and Stephen Wise.

Later, in 1909, Cyrus Scofield published the Scofield Reference Bible, which became the Bible of the fundamentalist movement and the central text to which Christian Zionists have since referred. Scofield’s crystallization of what has been called “End Times Prophesy” emphasized the necessity of a Jewish return to the Holy Land (especially Jerusalem), the destruction of Islamic holy sites on the Temple Mount (Haram al-Sharif), the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem, the imminent battle of Armageddon, and the mass conversion of the surviving Jews to the Christian faith.

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Contemporary Fervor and Republican Politics

The 1967 war and the Cold War created a climate in which Christian fundamentalists were particularly receptive to Scofield’s views on Revelations. In the 1970s, his “End Times Prophecy” found an enormous audience thanks to author Hal Lindsey, whose 1970 The Late Great Planet Earth was a New York Times bestseller that sold over 18 million copies in English and 20 million copies in 54 other languages. Lindsey views are clear. “The valley from Galilee to Eilat,” he once declared, “will flow with blood and 144,000 Jews will bow down before Jesus and be saved!” The rest of the Jews, according to Lindsey, are destined to perish in “the mother of all Holocausts.”

Lindsey’s novel has sold well throughout the last three decades and even enjoyed a spike in sales in August and September of 1990, as fears peaked over Iraq’s Hussein regime and, according to a CNN poll taken at the beginning of the Gulf War, 14% of Americans believed they were witnessing the beginning of Armageddon. Lindsey’s success also signified the creation of a popular genre, including the influential work of Timothy LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins, co-authors of the Left Behind series, in which Christian protagonists assassinate a former U.N. head who is revealed to be the Antichrist. The series has sold over 50 million copies.

The 1980s saw the election of Ronald Reagan, who had espoused Christian Zionist views in the past, and who enjoyed a close friendship with the evangelist Rev. Billy Graham. According to Reagan’s former legal secretary Herb Ellingwood, Reagan had developed a nearly obsessive fascination with apocalyptic prophecy, reading scores of apocalyptic novels. As governor, and later as president, Reagan became known for quoting Ezekiel, confiding to State Senate leader James Mills at one point that “everything is falling into place. It can’t be too long now. Ezekiel says that fire and brimstone will be rained down upon the enemies of God’s people. That must mean that they’ll be destroyed by nuclear weapons. They exist now, and they never did in the past.”

By the time of George W. Bush’s induction into the White House, approximately 40 million Americans expressed beliefs that fall within the scope of Christian fundamentalism, and that number increased dramatically following the attacks of September 11, 2001. Like Reagan, who often framed the struggle with Communism in language rife with religious overtones, George W. Bush has framed the War on Terror in a like manner, presenting the conflict in apocalyptic terms as “a monumental struggle between good and evil, [in which] good will prevail.” Along with frequent references to “evil” and “evildoers,” the President remarked in his September 20, 2001 speech before a Joint Session of Congress that “God is not neutral” in the War on Terror. Similar imagery has been echoed by evangelical leaders such as Falwell, who in 2002 infamously referred to the prophet Muhammad as a “terrorist” in a 60 Minutes appearance.

Evangelical Christianity and a steadfast belief in Biblical prophecy have been a driving force throughout the political career of George W. Bush himself, who in his late 30s became a born-again Christian and was formally converted by Rev. Billy Graham. Before announcing his candidacy, Bush met with Texas evangelist James Robison, confiding that he had given his life to Christ and felt that God wanted him to be President. According to Stephen Mansfield, author of The Faith of George W. Bush, he further revealed that he felt “something was going to happen” and the country would need his leadership during a time of crisis. Since assuming office, the President has been openly forthcoming with his religious convictions and the central role they occupy in his foreign policy decisions. According to veteran journalist Bob Woodward, Bush once declared that he would “export death and violence to the four corners of the earth in defense of this great country and rid the world of evil,” and he also allegedly told Palestinian Prime Minister Mahmoud Abbas that “God told me to strike al-Qaeda and I struck them, and then He instructed me to strike at Saddam, which I did.”

Christian Zionist ideology also remains a factor in the growing inclination toward American unilateralism. Among evangelicals, mistrust of the United Nations is often reinforced by religious leaders such as Pat Robertson, who wrote in his book The New World Order that the UN and the Council of Foreign Relations may be part of a “tightly knit cabal whose goal is nothing less than a new order for the human race under Lucifer and his followers.” The connection between unilateralism and evangelicalism, also a prominent feature of the Christian Right during the Cold War, stems from references in the Book of Revelations to a one-world governmental body (symbolized by a many-headed dragon) led by the Antichrist. In the face of a conflict of interests between Christian fundamentalists and the U.N. or E.U., the latter organizations have sometimes become the biblical “many-headed dragon” haunting the imagination of the Christian Right. The theme of the U.N. or E.U. as an implement of the Antichrist has been reinforced in apocalyptic literature from Lindsey to Robertson, highlighting a climate of American unilateralism and mistrust.

The Fine Line Between Philo- and Anti-Semitism

One of the particularly troubling aspects of Christian Zionism is the existence of explicit antisemitism within the movement. While most Christian Zionists are not overtly antisemitic, and while many feel genuine sympathy toward the Jewish people, there exists an undeniable undercurrent of anti-Jewish sentiment within the Christian Right. At its core level, the Christian Zionist ideology has Jews play a sacrificial role in the redemption of the Christian world, whether they like it or not. Additionally, some of the movement’s most influential leaders have issued remarks that reveal a far less friendly picture of evangelical Christian attitudes toward the Jewish people on whose behalf they claim to fight.

The most recurrent anti-Jewish sentiments among members of the Christian Zionist movement reflect deeply rooted Christian stereotypes that date back centuries, pertaining to the refusal of Jews to accept Christ, myths of Jewish greediness and money-savvy, and fears of Jewish conspiracies toward world domination. In fundamentalist Christian sermons, Jews are often referred to as “spiritually deaf” or “spiritually blind,” and their status among the “unsaved” is an integral part of evangelistic belief. Rev. Dan C. Fore, former head of the Moral Majority in New York, once professed, “I love the Jewish people deeply. God has given them talents He has not given others. They are His chosen people. Jews have a God-given ability to make money. They control the media; they control this city.” The sentiment has been echoed by Falwell, who remarked during one sermon that “a few of you don’t like the Jews, and I know why. They can make more money accidentally than you can on purpose.” Others, such as Rev. Donald Wildman, founder of the American Family Association, have adopted the view of evangelical leader R.J. Rushdoony’s conviction that the mainstream television networks promote anti-Christian values because they are mostly controlled by Jews.

At the same time as these dark undertones exist beneath the surface, Christian Zionists are -- on that surface -- very generous in their temporal (and perhaps temporary) support of Israel. They support the Nefesh b'Nefesh program, which subsidizes the costs of immigration to Israel. They support Israel in its struggles with the Palestinians and others. And they are increasingly coming to Israel, in greater and greater numbers. The Likud candidate for Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, has made a point of cultivating support among Christian Zionists, both to help him politically and to invest in Israel; he recently disclosed conversations to build a network of large, high-end hotels for Evangelical visitors, and a DVD interview with him is being sold on Hal Lindsey's website, which, like most Christian Zionist sites, assumes a pro-Israeli-Right political stance. Other Israeli politicians, and leaders of the Jewish Agency, are aware of the ulterior motives the Christian Zionists have for bringing Jews to Israel, but then again, since Jews don't believe in the prophecies anyway, they seem to feel that they have nothing to lose. Let the Evangelicals be disappointed when the Rapture doesn't happen; in the meantime, they are steadfast political and financial supporters of Israel. Whether this turns out to be a marriage of convenience or a "pact with the devil," of course, remains to be seen.

On the American side, the instrumental role formed by the Christian Right in U.S. foreign policy is rarely treated with the level of acknowledgment and importance it clearly warrants. In fact, the Christian Zionist movement has had a formidable impact upon American involvement in the Middle East. Christian Zionism, which is woven deeply into the fabric of American religious and political life, constitutes a rapidly growing movement that is certain to continue to exercise the considerable influence it exerts today. The movement’s ideology contains profound implications, and they must be examined closely, for the future of Christian Zionism may have profound consequences for the future of the world.