Seeing as how it's Tisha B'av today (a day to mourn how we Jews have destroyed each other with hatred), I've been thinking about how we often attempt to deal with our trauma by integrating the characteristics of our abusers.
This is neither a novel idea or a particularly insightful one--that the body politic acts like any body in crisis.
However, if you look to Jewish History for clues about what happens during that process of integration, of the abused becoming the abuser, something singular reveals itself: we cast ourselves as other in really, really literal terms! In other words, we actually act out fascist roles and symbols somewhat consciously!
For example, see this article from the BBC:
However, if you look to Jewish History for clues about what happens during that process of integration, of the abused becoming the abuser, something singular reveals itself: we cast ourselves as other in really, really literal terms! In other words, we actually act out fascist roles and symbols somewhat consciously!
For example, see this article from the BBC:
It points to recent rhetoric from the Israeli Deputy Defence Minister as he deployed the word "Shoah" against Palestinians.
Or this article, which points to the alarming trend of JEWISH NEO-NAZIS (!) in Israel:
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/979508.html
Also, I can tell you that the above article is actually just the tip-of-the-iceberg--when I was in Israel in April, I read several articles which noted that this was becoming a popular fad among twenty-somethings.
But I think there is a way out: end our preoccupation with separation. Separation theology insists that "we are over here" and "god is over there".
Or this article, which points to the alarming trend of JEWISH NEO-NAZIS (!) in Israel:
For more on this, I highly recommend the film: The Believer
http://www.palmpictures.com/film/the-believer.php
And then there's this mind-warping report on Israelis tattooing themselves with Auschwitz-inspired numbers on their forearms:
And then there's this mind-warping report on Israelis tattooing themselves with Auschwitz-inspired numbers on their forearms:
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/979508.html
Also, I can tell you that the above article is actually just the tip-of-the-iceberg--when I was in Israel in April, I read several articles which noted that this was becoming a popular fad among twenty-somethings.
I sincerely doubt that the motive to put a number on ones arm is merely a clean and simple statement of defiance against genocide. It comes out of a much, much deeper impulse.
Some might point to the unsettling counterpoint between Fascism and Zionism--how these philosophies come from very similar intellectual world-views.
Some might point to the unsettling counterpoint between Fascism and Zionism--how these philosophies come from very similar intellectual world-views.
At the very least, Israel was founded with the help of Revisionist approaches.
See:
The Stern Gang: Ideology, Politics and Terror, 1940-49. (Frank Cass Publishers, 2005)
&
Muscular Judaism: The Jewish Body and the Politics of Regeneration (Routledge Curzon, 2007).
But one could even say that a rigorous historical contextualization of Fascist roots in Zionism does not necessarily indict Zionism today... indeed, most modernist movements (even Feminism) were touched by this stream of thought.
What is desperately indicting is how Israeli policy has lost sight of the post-Holocaust responsibility of Israel: to be a counter-example to hatred and racism. To show how a national body can have a global vision by becoming the change it wishes to see in the world.
We're failing at this. Miserably. Israel views itself as "alone" in a crowd and it is therefore lonely and traumatized/traumatizing.
To expand on this, here is an excerpt from an article by Rabbi Yaacov Haber:
...as the Kotzker Rebbe said, “There is no place lonelier than a room full of people.”
Loneliness is possibly one of the most painful human experiences. Loneliness is not the same as being alone. Many people have times when they are alone through circumstances or choice. Being alone can be experienced as positive, pleasurable, and even emotionally refreshing if it is under the individual’s control. When Moshe received his prophecies, he was alone in solitude. Loneliness is unwilling solitude that is forced upon a person.
We always read Parshat Devarim on the Shabbos preceding Tisha B’Av, in part because of the connection between our Parsha and Tisha B’ Av signaled by the word “Eicha”. Moses asked, “How [Eicha] can I carry your burdens alone?” (1:12) and in the Book of Lamentations that we read on Tisha B ‘Av, Jeremiah asks in astonishment, “How [Eicha] could Jerusalem sit alone?”
But it’s not just the word “Eicha”! The Vilna Gaon explains that Moses said, “How can I carry your burdens alone?” and Jeremiah asked, “How can the city (of Jerusalem) sit alone?” Feeling alone, explains the GR”A (a Talmudist), is the essence of our national tragedy.
Moses and Jerusalem were reflections of the condition of the Jewish people. Moses was a lonely person and Jerusalem was a lonely city. Our people became isolated — not just from the world, but from each other. There was polarization, elitism, and arrogance. Moses felt isolated and so did Jerusalem, and they both exclaimed: “Eicha?!”
But one could even say that a rigorous historical contextualization of Fascist roots in Zionism does not necessarily indict Zionism today... indeed, most modernist movements (even Feminism) were touched by this stream of thought.
What is desperately indicting is how Israeli policy has lost sight of the post-Holocaust responsibility of Israel: to be a counter-example to hatred and racism. To show how a national body can have a global vision by becoming the change it wishes to see in the world.
We're failing at this. Miserably. Israel views itself as "alone" in a crowd and it is therefore lonely and traumatized/traumatizing.
To expand on this, here is an excerpt from an article by Rabbi Yaacov Haber:
...as the Kotzker Rebbe said, “There is no place lonelier than a room full of people.”
Loneliness is possibly one of the most painful human experiences. Loneliness is not the same as being alone. Many people have times when they are alone through circumstances or choice. Being alone can be experienced as positive, pleasurable, and even emotionally refreshing if it is under the individual’s control. When Moshe received his prophecies, he was alone in solitude. Loneliness is unwilling solitude that is forced upon a person.
We always read Parshat Devarim on the Shabbos preceding Tisha B’Av, in part because of the connection between our Parsha and Tisha B’ Av signaled by the word “Eicha”. Moses asked, “How [Eicha] can I carry your burdens alone?” (1:12) and in the Book of Lamentations that we read on Tisha B ‘Av, Jeremiah asks in astonishment, “How [Eicha] could Jerusalem sit alone?”
But it’s not just the word “Eicha”! The Vilna Gaon explains that Moses said, “How can I carry your burdens alone?” and Jeremiah asked, “How can the city (of Jerusalem) sit alone?” Feeling alone, explains the GR”A (a Talmudist), is the essence of our national tragedy.
Moses and Jerusalem were reflections of the condition of the Jewish people. Moses was a lonely person and Jerusalem was a lonely city. Our people became isolated — not just from the world, but from each other. There was polarization, elitism, and arrogance. Moses felt isolated and so did Jerusalem, and they both exclaimed: “Eicha?!”
Eicha? How?
I'm not sure.
But I think there is a way out: end our preoccupation with separation. Separation theology insists that "we are over here" and "god is over there".
What a lonely origin myth.
From this comes almost all our human difficulties: apartheid against others and self. We've got to stop.
What would love do?
What would love do?
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1 comment:
Thank you.
For more from Rabbi Haber please see www.torahlab.org
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