Sunday, April 21, 2024

The Flowering of an Indigenous Culture

An interview with a survivor, Deborah Tzarfaty. (Maya Milova)

Once upon a time—before 1967—Arabs in Israel, Judah, Samaria, and Gaza did not call themselves Palestinians; they were Arabs. Back then, if you said "Palestinian," everyone assumed you meant a Jew. For example, The Palestinian Post, founded in 1932, was a Jewish paper. (The local Arab paper was called Al-Jami'a Al-'Arabiya.)

Then, in the 1960s, came Yasser Arafat, an Egyptian born in 1929, who-- with a little help from the Soviet Union-- rebranded the Arabs of the region. Suddenly, they were "Palestinians" and claimed a deep, ancient connection to the Land. Along the way, they also borrowed the keffiyeh from Iraqi Arabs, because nothing says "indigenous" like a headscarf from another country.

To this day, Palestinian identity remains a patchwork. Culturally, they are not a single people. Palestinian Muslim women don’t even share a common style of modest dress—some are covered head-to-toe in black, others wear tight jeans and revealing tops but cover their hair, while some opt for long raincoats year-round. The only common thread in Palestinian dress? That borrowed keffiyeh for the boys.

Their actual roots? A mix of 19th and 20th-century immigrants from Egypt, Syria, and Lebanon. A few were in the land before the 19th century and some of those families may have been Jewish before the Muslim conquest of the Land in the 7th century.

Meanwhile, according to the UN’s own definition of indigeneity—having historical continuity with pre-invasion societies and maintaining a distinct culture—Jews are, without question, the indigenous people of Israel. Our culture was born here, shaped here, and maintained a presence here through multiple colonial empires: Assyrian, Babylonian, Greek, Roman, Arab Muslim, Byzantine, and British, to name a few. Coins minted by many of these empires acknowledged the Jewish connection to the Land by featuring Jewish symbols, such as a menorah or the Hebrew words ארץ ישראל (Land of Israel).

Palestinian culture also meets one requirement for indigeneity: its current culture developed in this Land (during the last 70 years). However, this culture does not spring from a connection to the Land or a people, but from a single, unifying obsession: hating Israel and killing Jews.

The flowering of this culture occurred on October 7, 2023, which tells you everything you need to know.

Sunday, April 14, 2024

The Magic in Our Tradition

On Monday, we will gather around our tables with friends and family with the opportunity and duty to perform the mitzvah of retelling the story of our ancient redemption.

How can we recall four-thousand-year-old miracle stories now? While 134 of us are held in brutal captivity! While nine young women, if they are still alive, may be almost seven months pregnant from rape! While war is knocking on our door daily! While the world world seems to be howling its hatred of us!

How can we transition from our current reality to our traditional celebration? Where can we find words to plead for our deliverance?

Instead of words, we could turn our focus to the fifteen silent ritual actions performed during the seder meal, hoping that these rituals will move G-d to protect and preserve us.

- What will it signify when we lift our glasses of wine but refrain from drinking?
- This year, what will it mean to dip the green vegetable in salt water?
- As our leader breaks the middle matza, what else will we hope or fear may be broken?
- Why will we cover the matza whenever we lift our cups of wine?
- As we diminish our joy by removing drops of wine from our full glasses, what losses will we mourn?
- What will we understand when the leader lifts the full round seder plate and the matzot?
- Will our search for the Afikomen be a prayer for the redemption of our hostages still captive in Gaza?
- And what will we see when open the door for Elijah the Prophet?

May the mute gestures of this seder stir our hearts and reach the heavens, so that G-d will again protect and preserve all of us.

And as for words... that one passage we always skip? This year I will shout it out with tears in my eyes.

My thanks to Bob Silber, a fellow English speaker in Eilat, whose profound insights into this year's seder, inspired my reflections.

"The Mute Book," a chapter from
Ira Steingroot's book, Keeping Passover