Zionism – Page 3

A satirical vlog on Zionism

A screenshot from the trailer for Avi Does the Holy Land. The vlog will appeal to some more than others.

Good satire depends not only on distancing the viewer from the object of ridicule, but on making them identify with it, if only just a little. For North American Jews who’ve grown up with affection towards Israel, a new video blog (or vlog) does just that.

Avi Does the Holy Land is a sendup of sex-drenched Zionism, a vlog that purports to tackle various hot-button aspects of Israel – “the most contentious state in the Middle East!” in the words of Avi, a “Canadian Jewess” who “went on a Birthright trip and fell in love with Israel.” (Haaretz has since revealed that Avi is Aviva Zimmerman, originally from Calgary, and now an Israel-based filmmaker.)

Through a website, a YouTube channel and a Facebook page, Avi covers such topics as how to beat terrorism, whether Palestinians are really oppressed or not, what to pack for Birthright, and the accusation, by Israel’s critics, of pinkwashing.

And, while Avi is a cartoonish, lipsticked character who perpetually seems perplexed by the sincerity of her interviewees, many of us will no doubt identify with at least a sliver of her carefree naiveté.

“Did I just give a blow job to a guy named Dudu?” she muses in one segment.

In my kibbutz-loving period of the early 1990s, it wasn’t a guy with the unfortunate name Dudu I fawned over, but another whose name in translation meant “ploughed field.” Giggling over his agricultural moniker while in ulpan class, my pals and I idealized his Zionist credentials.

In another scene, Avi wears a pink T-shirt emblazoned with an Uzi, the kind that pepper tourist shops throughout Jerusalem.

While I never wore clothing depicting an actual gun, I did rummage through the kibbutz lost and found one day and select a worn, burgundy T-shirt from a paratrooper, the kind Israeli soldiers design when they finish their basic training. (This one, from 1984, was extremely tame next to the tasteless ones appearing in more recent years – ones that promote rape and anti-Palestinian violence.) I later found the owner – a different strapping kibbutznik whose name meant cedar tree – but never did return it. Why would I? It had the perfect mix of soft fibres and Jewish power pedigree. All the better to wear while painting metal beams and bantering with the workers over never-ending tea-and-toast breaks in the kibbutz welding shop.

Avi Does the Holy Land’s web episode “Pride vs. Pinkwashing” is the most cutting in terms of political messaging. It involves alternating scenes of Avi doing what she “does best” – “dancing on a truck” at Tel Aviv Pride – and interviewing Rami Younis, a Palestinian writer and activist, over charges of Israeli pinkwashing. Calling Israel’s critics “belly-aching leftist sh–heads,” Avi muses over Younis being “hashtag superserious,” and finally suggests to him that perhaps if he drapes himself in a rainbow flag, Israel will treat him better.

It’s probably fair to say that I move in circles that are highly critical of the occupation and that, while I’ve taken a nuanced position on pinkwashing, still take the claim seriously. But I, too, have enjoyed a Tel Aviv Pride beach party, trying to order a vodka cocktail from a shirtless bartender and, in my distraction, confusing the Hebrew word for cranberries with that for paratroopers and enjoying my private little malapropism – a symbol of Diaspora idealization of Israel – for weeks after.

So is Avi “other”? Or is Avi “us”? For those who are distressed by the occupation and feel a gradual distancing from Israel through decades of government intransigence and illiberal moves intended to silence and intimidate human rights activists, probably a bit of both. And for those who don’t have a single critical word in their lexicon for the Jewish state, I’m really not sure. But I’d love to see their reaction.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She is a columnist for Canadian Jewish News and contributes to Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward, among other publications. This article was originally published on forward.com.

Sharing views on Israel

More than 100 people were at the Museum of Vancouver on Sept. 9 for a New Israel Fund of Canada-hosted panel discussion, The Backstory: Behind What You Know About Israel. Moderated by Temple Sholom’s Rabbi Dan Moskovitz, the evening featured Ronit Heyd, executive director of Shatil, an Israeli nonprofit supported by NIF, and Canadian journalist and editor Jonathan Kay of The Walrus.

The night before their Vancouver talk, Kay and Heyd spoke to a large crowd in Toronto, where they were joined by Haaretz editor-in-chief and journalist Aluf Benn. In Vancouver, the two were introduced by NIFC board president Joan Garson and executive director Orit Sarfaty. They covered a range of issues, including the rise of women in the Knesset, how North Americans talk about Israel, the problem of racism in Israeli society, the lasting impacts of 2011’s social justice protests and the influence of feminism and the Women of the Wall.

photo - Ronit Heyd — Ronit Heyd *(photo from New Israel Fund of Canada)*

Starting with a bit of good news, Moskovitz asked Heyd to talk about the fact that, at 31 members, the current Israeli Knesset has more women MKs than any prior government. “It’s not just in the Knesset,” said Heyd, “more women than ever ran in the last municipal elections.” Women are also trying to participate more equally in local religious councils, a task not for the faint-hearted, she said, due to the “very strong political power in the Knesset [and the Israeli establishment] that is still being held by the ultra-Orthodox parties. The ultra-Orthodox do not have – I want to add, yet – do not have women in the parties.”

The impact of the rise of women in politics extends beyond the makeup of parliament, Heyd said. “It is important to note that when a woman enters a very masculine environment, it changes” in several ways, including shifting the agenda. It is changed by raising, for example, the notion of transparency, “of the need to have a more just distribution of resources, of having a more open governance … and we see that especially with the religious councils.”

Though the pace of change is slow, she said, “This is not happening just out of the blue; they needed training. One of the things that Shatil does is work with a group of women who want to be elected to the religious councils – they want to have their voice heard. They need support, they need to know how to build alliances, how to read a budget.”

Kay added that, while there are certain parallels, the situation in Canada is very different, and bringing women into Israeli politics is a “much more urgent project.” Unlike in Israel, he said, “in Canada, there is no significant mainstream constituency that believes that women cannot occupy the public sphere. It’s a fringe, not mainstream, view. In Israel, you have these people who ideologically don’t believe that women should have a role in public life.”

However, though women in Israel are participating at unprecedented levels in government, their voices are still not equally heard in the male-dominated policy landscape. Of the main issues in the Knesset, Heyd said, “The first one is security. The second one is security. The third one is also security. And women are not brought into that conversation.” The impact of women will be more fully realized, she said, once they have influence in policies around pay equality, security and the economy.

Moskovitz asked each panelist to comment on the polarization of the conversation about Israel and how the divisiveness impacts the Canadian and Israeli Jewish communities.

photo - Jonathan Kay — Jonathan Kay *(photo from New Israel Fund of Canada)*

Part of what creates the tense atmosphere is that “Zionism itself in its most potent form has become a form of religion,” Kay said. “What do religions provide? They provide a theory of evil, they provide a theory of good, they provide a tribal identity, they provide a liturgy … many of the fundamental elements of a religion are provided by the most militant aspects of Zionism as they are projected in the Diaspora.

“By the way,” he continued, “I consider myself a Zionist. I’ve written columns in support of Israel, I’ve raised the flag in time of war. However, I know when I see people’s opinions on geopolitics become so strong that they take on the character of religious beliefs. And you see this with the Iran nuclear deal. It is not only, ‘I don’t like Clause 7, but I do like Clause 8.’ The dialogue is, ‘It’s 1938, are you with Churchill or are you with Chamberlain?’ … the imagery of Hitler, the imagery of black, white, good, evil. And, again, I know there’s this well-intentioned idea among many liberal Jews, ‘Well, if only we had the right press release, or the right argument and we could frame things in the right way.’… To a certain extent, that’s not happening because the people on the other side of the debate have chosen another faith.”

The speakers agreed that the polarization of the debate in the Diaspora impacts Israeli society; it matters. “There is a direct line that goes from the conversation that is being held here in North America and what’s happening in Israel,” said Heyd.

Can Jews in North America find a way to talk about Israel, asked Moskovitz?

“Email is the destruction of dialogue,” Kay said. “Stop sending each other articles! Take 30 seconds and actually put your own thoughts in your own words. You don’t have to send it to 50 people…. Don’t call me an imperialist if you think I’m right wing. Don’t call me a useful idiot if you think I’m left wing…. Don’t fall back on those tropes…. In the ’90s, you actually had to find someone to argue with! Now, you can actually do it from your desk, and I think that has raised the temperature because it has created tribalism. It’s one thing to lose an argument with one person, it’s another thing to lose an argument with 50 people on a reply-all email chain. It sounds silly, but the medium is the message.”

Another issue that has made news is the problem of racism. While there are few parallels between the Black Lives Matter movement in the United States and the protests of Ethiopian Israelis earlier this year, both countries still need to find a way to better integrate and respect racial diversity. The issue is especially acute when it comes to integrating Arab-Israelis into Israeli society.

Kay said he believes that Canada has done an excellent job of assimilating various groups, with some exceptions, but it helps that many immigrants come to Canada from urban centres, and are well educated. “Regardless of their skin color, they’re capitalists…. That’s the main thing,” he said.

On the question of what changes Israel has undergone since the 2011 summer economic protests, Heyd said there is still no economic relief for average Israelis, who are increasingly burdened by the cost of living, but Israelis have received more coverage for childcare, and the centralization of the market is back on the political agenda.

Overall, whether it’s the ways in which Israel is meeting its challenges or struggling to balance security with social justice, what is apparent, Heyd said, is that there is “a mini flourishing of civil society … people in the periphery are becoming involved, not just Tel Aviv, the big cities,” and that is cause of cautious optimism.

NIFC hosts Anat Hoffman, executive director of the Israel Religious Action Centre, on Nov. 17 at Temple Sholom.

Basya Laye is a former editor of the Jewish Independent.

“Threat” term problematic

When it comes to Israel, many Diaspora Jews harbor a double standard. They want their own countries to embrace pluralism and multiculturalism, owing to the kind of fluid immigration that allowed their own grandparents and great-grandparents to build a better life in America and Canada and many other places across the West. But, when it comes to Israel, they are comfortable articulating their desire to maintain a Jewish majority. Israelis – even those on the left – have a term for this need: they openly refer to Palestinians (whether in the West Bank, whether refugees living abroad or whether Palestinian citizens of Israel itself) as a “demographic threat.”

Palestinian citizens of Israel are pouncing on this usage more than ever. Ayman Oudeh, head of the Joint List, has called it offensive. He wants Israeli citizens to view their Palestinian citizen brethren as partners in nation-building. Still, he is not looking for a melting-pot version of Israeli identity: he demands that Israel grant the Palestinian citizens “collective rights.” Since they already have their own school system, presumably, by collective rights he means at the very least equal funding for schools and towns, including removing the unequal bureaucratic barriers to gaining building permits, something I’ve written about at the Globe and Mail.

Yousef Munayyer is also distressed by the term “demographic threat,” and concludes that it is intrinsic to Zionism. Instead of having a demographic problem, Israel has a Zionism problem, he argued last March in The Nation. This, as Bibi was whipping up fear against the Arab minority on election day, claiming they were coming to the polls “in droves.”

The scope of the issue is more complex than these critiques – as important as they are – allow. There are at least three aspects at play.

First, strategy. There are reasons why a peace activist may choose to use the term “demographic threat” to sell the idea of withdrawal from the West Bank, for example. This kind of reasoning may appeal to those on the centre or even the right who, unfortunately, aren’t moved by human rights imperatives. When it comes to language and lobbying, we must not forget the game of persuasion.

This connects to the second aspect: emotions. Here, the question is this: without undermining democracy, can a majority population privately desire to maintain its majority status? And, in the event that these private desires are shared publicly – through art or literature, say – should the users be chastised as being anti-democratic?

Here, we need to recall what may be motivating these feelings. It may not be anti-democratic tendencies or racism or even a sense of national superiority. As a national liberation movement, Zionism was acutely concerned with Jewish self-determination, more than it was with undermining any other national group in its midst. And, along with the material gains of statehood has come the desire to sustain a modern Jewish national culture, most markedly in the form of Hebrew. To contemplate becoming a minority in one’s country is to consider the attrition of one’s national language, at the very least, if not the possibility of collective safety and self-determination. Even if the fears are unfounded, even, if, somehow, a post-Zionist Israel can engage in a project of radical multiculturalism such that Hebrew culture maintains its treasured place alongside Palestinian culture and Arabic language, the impulse is still understandable.

Finally, there are the public policies themselves. On this, there is clearly much room for improvement. Oudeh’s call for a high-profile “civics conference” in the tradition of other annual conferences in Israel on issues – including security, social issues and economics – is a good one. As is the urgent need to close the funding gap to Arab schools and towns, and to educate against casual racism, including some landlords not renting to Arabs and “social suitability” committees determining who can live where, the kind of practices outlined by Amjad Iraqi in +972 Magazine. These attitudes and the practices that stem from them are corrosive to democracy.

All this is to say that the creation and maintenance of national identity, particularly in a state as young as Israel, is an enormous project. Using the term “demographic threat” as a way of describing the actual collective emotions and preferences of some citizens is as useful as any analytic phrase. To censor it completely, therefore, would be anti-intellectual and anti-democratic. But, when it comes to policy advocacy, thoughtful Israelis should consider thinking twice about using these words. As citizens of democracies, we should at least strive to hear things as our fellow citizens hear them.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She blogs at Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. A version of this article was originally published on haartez.com.

Ben-Gurion the leader

The story is told that the idea of building a modern city in Beersheva came from David Ben-Gurion, Israel’s first prime minister. He appointed a committee of experts to examine the idea. The committee reported back that it could not be done. When Ben-Gurion was asked how he wanted to respond to the report, he replied, “Appoint a new committee.”

Accomplished Israeli historian Anita Shapira recounts the apocryphal anecdote in David Ben-Gurion, Father of Modern Israel (Yale University Press). Shapira, whose book Israel: A History won the National Jewish Book Award in 2012, presents Ben-Gurion as the person who did more than anyone else to establish the state. He inspired a nation of idealists and wartorn refugees to achieve the impossible. But does your overcrowded bookshelf need another Ben-Gurion biography? I can think of three strong reasons to recommend Shapira’s book.

Although not the definitive biography, Shapira offers a fresh perspective on Ben-Gurion’s life based on newly available files of the Israel Defence Forces and extensive work in the archives at kibbutz Sde Boker, where Ben-Gurion lived. She sets out his considerable accomplishments through colorful anecdotes and well-crafted prose.

As well, despite the passage of years, Ben-Gurion remains a central figure in contemporary debates, a touchstone for politicians from all parties. He is invariably quoted during heated arguments over Israel’s relations with Germany, its borders with its neighbors and its treatment of the Palestinians. He is often cited for his work in forging a partnership with the religious communities in the 1930s. Shapira offers solid scholarship for those who wish to reflect on his work.

And, for those with big ambitions, the new biography offers a vivid portrayal of how he scaled the heights of domestic and international politics. His biography may not be a roadmap to glory but aspiring leaders could pick up a few tips.

Shapira writes in detail about the years after the state was declared in 1948, and especially about Ben-Gurion’s role leading up to the Sinai campaign. However, the most engrossing part of this book is about his unlikely development as a leader. With a knack for telling stories, Shapira effectively tracks how the unexceptional youngster, not particularly well liked by his peers, developed pragmatic organizational skills, sharp elbows and incisive political instincts that propelled him into the forefront of the Zionist movement.

Ben-Gurion, born in 1886, grew up in Plonsk, a backwater shtetl three hours outside of Warsaw. Shapira found nothing in his birthplace, his lineage or his education that hinted at his future role in history. She sees no notable qualities in his personality that foreshadowed his destiny.

His mother died in childbirth when Ben-Gurion was 11. He quit school after his bar mitzvah, although he had a lifelong love of learning.

By 14 years old, he had embraced the Zionism of his father, who had been swept up in Theodor Herzl’s dream of a Jewish homeland in Palestine. However, Ben-Gurion was not in a rush to make aliya. At 18, he moved to Warsaw with the intention of becoming an engineer. The engineering schools rejected his applications.

Here is where destiny steps in. He happened to be in the city at a crucial moment in history. He was swept up in the heady events of the days before the Russian Revolution.

He joined Poalei Zion (Workers of Zion), a party that combined his newfound enthusiasm for Marxist socialism with Zionism.

Although his grasp of Marxism was considered shallow, he rose to a leadership position, recognized as a strong debater and speaker.

He finally immigrated to Palestine in 1906, but his early years in Palestine were not particularly auspicious. He often said one thing and did another.

He firmly believed that Jews would reclaim Palestine only by working the land. He said the land would belong to the Jews only when the majority of its workers and guards were Jewish.

He worked in the fields at Petach Tikva and then in the Galilee but he was frequently sick and, when he was healthy enough to work, he was miserable, Shapira writes. Throughout the following decades, he described himself as an agricultural worker while, in reality, he was doing other work in and outside of Palestine.

He had a strained relationship with his father and, according to Shapira, a distant relationship with his wife, who was the mother of his three children. He was excluded from clandestine groups and collectives in Palestine that were forming in those years.

Also, he misunderstood political realities. He was convinced that the Turks would remain in control of Palestine, never anticipating the British Mandate.

Ben-Gurion’s rise to prominence began slowly after the First World War. He expanded the Histadrut, the national federation of trade unions, into one of the most powerful institutions in the country. Elected leader of the World Zionist Organization and the Jewish Agency in 1935, he became the recognized leader of the Jewish community in Palestine. By the mid-1940s, he was exactly the type of leader that was required for the state of Israel to be born. Shapira shows that, from these ambiguous beginnings, a giant of history was formed.

The book has little to say about the lasting significance of some of his initiatives. She writes about his authorization of the forced expulsion of some Arabs, his reluctance to define Israel’s borders and, despite his secular lifestyle, his partnership with the religious community, but does not mention the social and political tensions arising from these initiatives. Shapira does not hold him accountable for creating conditions that led, although unintentionally, to many of the difficulties now confronting the country.

Regardless, Ben-Gurion’s accomplishments overshadow everything else. He transformed armed militias that were focused on fighting the British into a military force that could stand up to the armies of neighboring Arab countries. He ensured that tanks, artillery and aircraft were available to defend the land and its people. He hammered together a provisional government from the fiercely competing factions among the Jewish people in Palestine.

In sharp contrast to prominent Zionists of his era, Ben-Gurion advocated for a Zionism of practical achievements and put little faith in diplomacy and international proclamations. He demanded that Hebrew names be given to every aspect of government-related activity. He ensured that the religious community became partners in this ambitious nation-building project. He also had a hand in shaping the cultural, religious and intellectual character of the new country right from the start.

Shapira says that Ben-Gurion liked to argue that history was made by the masses, not individuals. She shows that, beyond a doubt, his role was decisive.

Robert Matas, a Vancouver-based writer, is a former journalist with the Globe and Mail. This review was originally published on the Isaac Waldman Jewish Public Library website and is reprinted here with permission. To reserve this book or any other, call 604-257-5181 or email library@jccgv.bc.ca. To view the catalogue, visit jccgv.com and click on Isaac Waldman library.

Zionism’s meaning in Diaspora

After the attacks in Copenhagen, like after the violence and vandalisms that have rocked the French Jewish community, Israel’s Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu is urging the Jews of Europe to come to Israel as violence against Jews and Jewish institutions increases across that troubled continent.

This call for a new mass aliyah is being met with opposition by European leaders – including Jewish leaders. In Copenhagen, more than 30,000 people, led by their prime minister, commemorated the victims of the terror attacks. Copenhagen’s chief rabbi, Jair Melchior, told the Associated Press, “People from Denmark move to Israel because they love Israel, because of Zionism. But not because of terrorism. If the way we deal with terror is to run somewhere else, we should all run to a deserted island.”

Coincidentally, in preparation for our upcoming 85th anniversary issue, we were perusing old copies of this newspaper recently. We came across a commentary from July 1948 titled “Zionism should be wound up.” The author argued that the motive for Zionism – the creation of a Jewish state – had been realized and so the global enterprise should be concluded: even as Israel was literally fighting for its survival in the ongoing War of Independence, and so soon after the Holocaust.

Zionism had been a divisive force in the Diaspora Jewish community, including here in Canada. There were pro- and anti-Zionist Jews of left, right and centre politics, and of Orthodox and secular persuasion and everything in between. Some arguments against Zionism as a movement relied on religious foundations, contending that the ingathering of the exiles would coincide with the messianic era. Other arguments were emphatically secular with the left holding, for example, that it was incumbent upon Jews to remain where they are and fight for a better world for all, rather than retrenching to nationalistic or religious-based separations.

Reading the editorial from 1948, one particular sticking point was that community fundraising efforts had been overwhelmingly allocated to the Zionist effort. Now that the goal had been achieved, the author argued, it was time to redirect fundraising and spending inward, to individual Diaspora communities and to resurrect the “kehilla pattern” of community building and security, with each community taking care of its own needs.

Despite the writer’s conclusion, as successive wars and decades of terrorism confronted Israel, Zionism was not shelved. It morphed into a different type of movement. No longer mobilizing for the creation of a Jewish homeland, it became the overseas support group for the country. After 1967, when “the occupation” altered perceptions of Israel at home and abroad, Zionism again became a divisive cause. But for those two decades, the Jewish people were probably as united as they have ever been in support of Israel.

The lesson of the second half of the 20th century proved the lesson of the first half. Close to a million Jews across the Middle East and North Africa were forced, driven or encouraged by various means to leave their homelands. The difference for these people was that there was now a place where Jews control the immigration policy. Had such a place existed in the 1930s, the impact of the Holocaust may have been massively reduced. Nitpickers will contend that it was the creation of the state of Israel itself that led to the expulsion of Jews from the Arab world, but this equivalency, whatever its merits, does not distract from the underlying point: Jews have often lacked security and permanence in places where they are a permanent minority.

However, being a majority is no assurance of safety. Despite Netanyahu’s invitation, all is not nirvana for the Jews of Israel. Violence and terrorism are not unknown, and life is challenging in different ways than in Europe. It also needs mentioning that everything Netanyahu says and does right now must be seen through the prism of political expediency as the Israeli elections approach.

Nevertheless, these events raise a very serious question: What does Zionism mean today for people in the Diaspora?

There are probably more answers than there are Jews and, in a way, this is the question we grapple with, in one way or another, in these pages every week. But this conclusion may be safe to draw: it is not quite time for Zionism to wind up its affairs.

Open Hillel raises questions

On the issue of Jewish belonging, I have always pushed for as wide a tent as is necessary to accommodate the range of Jewish experience. Inclusion, rather than ideational boundaries, has been my watchword.

But now, since the Open Hillel conference held at Harvard in October – which billed itself as helping create a “Jewish community that all Jews can feel included in, not just those who pass a political litmus test” – I’ve been feeling a little bit more prescriptive around what values should matter, especially around the centrality of Israel to Jewish life.

On one hand, I’m instinctively positively predisposed to a movement like Open Hillel. Previous reports of a Hillel student board member stating he was forced to step down because he sought to host a Palestinian solidarity activist speaker following the screening of a Palestinian documentary give me chills. And I find Hillel’s guidelines about rejecting speakers who hold Israel to a “double standard” frustratingly enigmatic. There is good conceptual reason to hold Israel, a democracy, to a different standard than Syria, for example. And there is an understandable reason to “single out” Israel when we, as Diaspora Jews, devote more emotional, financial and political resources to the Jewish state than to almost any other.

But, now, my doubts. First was LGBTQ and Palestine solidarity activist Sarah Schulman’s Facebook remarks about the conference. In her post, she railed against the “bullshit of LGBT Birthright,” accusing it of being a forum for “pinkwashing.” I’m partly sympathetic to the pinkwashing charge, awareness of which Schulman herself helped propel in a 2011 New York Times op-ed. There is much to be criticized in Israel’s hasbarah efforts, especially in light of the government’s apathy towards the morally corrosive occupation. But there is a gap: Where is the desired opportunity among Open Hillel activists and participants like Schulman to encourage a deep and textured cultural and political engagement with Israel? Birthright may not be the answer. But what is?

Echoing my thoughts were Steven M. Cohen’s reflections, also posted publicly on Facebook. There, Cohen praised the Open Hillel conference for opening up a much-needed debate on Israeli policies, including criticism of the occupation, but he lamented the apparent “abjuring of the primacy of Jewish or Israel attachment” among participants.

And then came an essay by Holly Bicerano in the Times of Israel, where she criticizes Hillel International’s “Vision for Israel,” which states that “Hillel desires that students are able to articulate why Israel plays an important role in their personal Jewish identities and how Israel continues to influence Jewish conversations, global Jewish peoplehood and the world.”

Bicerano is concerned that, “This particular vision is predicated on the supposition that having a Jewish state must be an integral part of every deserving Jew’s identity.”

My personal, liberal variant of Zionism abhors the occupation, desires to redress political inequalities among the state’s ethnic groups, and opposes the general trend towards illiberal legislation in the Knesset. But, at the very least, I see an important role for Israel’s existence in the life of the Jewish people. While theological commitments are subject to the debates of rationalists, Israel helps secure a sense of peoplehood. Where Jews now speak the languages of their host societies, Israel’s Hebrew revival reminds us of our shared heritage. Where Diaspora Jews must negotiate a minority identity within a majority culture, Israel enables a sense of collective Jewish autonomy.

It follows that were I to find myself in the position of coordinating a campus-based, non-denominational Jewish organization such as Hillel, I would surely encourage students’ right to wrestle with, criticize and protest the policies of Israel. But I would rue the day that the notion of Israel as a component of collective Jewish identity was simply left at the curb.

So, I support the diversity of political views around Israel that were given an airing at the Open Zion conference and I welcome a much-needed, on-the-record conversation about the indignities of the occupation. But if, like Cohen, I am troubled that some of the Open Hillel proponents reject the relevance of sensitive and textured Jewish cultural and political engagement with Israel writ large, what am I to conclude about the fledgling movement?

What I conclude is that we must encourage more Open Hillel gatherings to be held. We must convene discussion not only among the converted. In the marketplace of ideas and attachments, we must realize that the most compelling identity markers will win. Therefore, we must seek to understand how, if Israel is so central to the Jewish identity of so many, it is precisely not this way to so many others. And, if it happens to be decades of Israeli settlements and occupation that have helped push younger Jews away, we must double down – as if we needed a further reason – to do something about those policies too.

Facts: A well-crafted crafted play

Left to right, Jerry Wasserman, James Gill and Mehdi Darvish star in United Players’ production of Facts. (photo by Doug Williams)

United Players is set to present Canadian Jewish playwright Arthur Milner’s provocative political drama Facts, loosely based on the true story of the 1992 murder of an American archeologist in the West Bank and the joint Israeli/Palestinian police investigation that followed.

The play has been produced in Ontario and the United Kingdom and was translated into Arabic for a tour of various West Bank cities in 2012. The United Players’ production marks the play’s Western Canadian première, with Jerry Wasserman as Yossi, the hot-headed Israeli detective; Mehdi Darvish as Khalid, Yossi’s Palestinian counterpart; and James Gill as Danny, the fervent settler accused of the murder. Adam Henderson helms this production as it navigates its way through some rough waters, exploring not only the Israeli-Palestinian conflict but also the religious-secular divide between Jews within Israel. The action takes place in a cramped, hot interrogation room in the West Bank and, as the story unfolds, it is revealed that the archeologist was unearthing facts that brought into question some accepted historical beliefs fundamental to Judaism.

The Jewish Independent sat down with Wasserman, Henderson and Darvish one morning before a rehearsal.

Wasserman – who is also a theatre critic and head of the theatre and film department at the University of British Columbia – described himself as an American Jew brought up by liberal Jewish thinkers. He said his research and immersion into this play angered him, but made him see the Middle East conflict in a new light. “This play really presses a lot of emotional buttons for me,” he said. “It digs down through layers into very specific details of [the] lives of people and, through this complexity, we see things more clearly.”

As to his character, Wasserman said, “Yossi’s father was a Zionist who had a dream of a state which has been compromised by the new wave of radical settlers who he sees as having a medieval way of thinking…. This has changed the state of Israel that Yossi loves. The real conflict in this story is not between Yossi and Khalid, but between Yossi and Danny.

“Because Yossi operates at a high emotional temperature, I had to find the proper rhythms and the right places to come up and go down so that I did not peak too early. There were many challenges, but it was infinitely fascinating. You don’t get too many chances to play a role like this.”

The heart of the story is the investigation, as the two detectives sift through various pieces of evidence and theories on the murder.

“I have acted in over 100 police dramas, both television and cinema, and I have to say that this, by far, is the most complex, sophisticated and confusing ones I have ever been involved in,” said Wasserman. “The research has been very detailed and the play is very accurate, re: police investigation and techniques. It is a tremendous intellectual puzzle. The evidence is circumstantial and we never find the smoking gun. The dialogue is an emotional mine field that we, as actors, all have to move through.”

Police dramas often feature a good cop/bad cop relationship. As to whether or not audiences will get to see that dynamic, Wasserman said, “Yossi tries to act the good cop but he is the bad cop by nature. He has lots of emotional buttons to press. The great thing about this play is that everyone’s buttons get pressed. Everyone has a turn to make impassioned monologues and everyone gets to lay his emotional/political cards on the table.”

Gill finds his role of Danny an interesting challenge. “While so much of his absolutist approach to his faith and his politics is antithetical to my own liberalism, nonetheless, being a Jew gives me an empathy for where his faith and politics are grounded,” he said in an email. “That gives me a starting point from which I can start to encompass the character.”

He sees the essence of the play as “the way in which these three men both conform to and transcend their stereotypes. We start with the ‘facts’ of an Israeli, a Palestinian and a settler and, on one level, each of these men is true to those simplistic profiles, but we discover that each of them is much more complicated.”

For Darvish, his involvement in the play also gave him new insights into the conflict. “I came to understand the Israeli position from an emotional perspective better as a result of working on this play,” he said, “but I also see more deeply the Palestinian position. I see the characters often acting like children throwing tantrums instead of sitting down and logically dealing with the situation. It saddens me because right now I do not see a resolution to the dilemma.”

Henderson said he enjoys working with a small cast and a modern-day setting, which contains no idiosyncrasies as to period or language. With an all-male cast, the action is testosterone driven and reflective of the politics of the Middle East, he said.

Henderson expressed surprise that more Canadians do not know about Milner, whose work he has come to appreciate more during the course of his research and preparation for this production.

“Milner has taken a very sensitive subject and effected meticulous research to create a platform to encourage serious dialogue,” he said. “His position is Socratic – he wants to encourage discussion versus making a point and this is brought home by his equivocal ending.”

Henderson acknowledged that the play is likely to be controversial but stressed that, “the key to theatre is that it is a thought experiment where we can do dangerous things with no consequences except people might have their perspectives broadened. If that is what happens in this play, then we will have accomplished something.”

He added, “As the news media move toward ‘infotainment,’ and the sound bites become faster and shallower, the longer form of theatre allows us to look a little deeper at things. For me, it is critical to protect ourselves from merely having our prejudices reinforced. Theatre was invented as a public forum, and we need to gather, to discuss, now more than ever.”

As to why Vancouverites should see the play, Henderson said, “It is an unusually well-crafted play. It is funny, witty, challenging and surprising, and you won’t find anything like it on television. Also, this is a great opportunity to dress up, go out and mingle with community and exercise the soul. Parking is easy and you come out after the show by the beautiful Jericho Beach with something new to talk about.”

Facts is at Jericho Arts Centre from Nov. 7-30. As an added feature, there will be a reading of Masada, Milner’s companion piece to Facts, after every Friday performance. Milner will be in Vancouver the week of Nov. 11 and will be attending performances during that time. For tickets and more information, visit unitedplayers.com.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.