Mondoweiss
Jewish resistance to occupation is also fighting for the future of Judaism
itself
Charlie Zimmerman on July 31, 2017
The Sumud summer freedom camp where more than 130 Jewish diaspora
participants with the Center for Jewish Nonviolence traveled to the West
Bank for actions in solidarity with Palestinians. (Photo: Daniel Roth)
In May of 2017, I traveled to the West Bank as a member of a delegation
organized by the Center for Jewish Nonviolence (CJNV). We were 130 Diaspora
Jews, mostly Americans, working in partnership with Palestinian and Israeli
resistance organizations to peacefully oppose the occupation of the East
Jerusalem, the West Bank, and Gaza-an ambitious mission to be sure, yet the
group strived for even more: a challenge and wake-up call for the Jewish
religion and tradition itself.
In the words of its organizers, the group's work is at the "center of Jewish
Transformation and Palestinian Solidarity." It rejects many conventional
notions in the West about the relationship between Jews and Israel, such as
the idea that Israel represents the Jewish people as a whole, and that any
criticism of the Israeli policy constitutes anti-Semitism. Instead, in its
motto, CJNV boldly proclaims "Occupation is Not My Judaism." In other words,
we can be proudly and fully Jewish while forcefully rejecting the actions of
the so-called Jewish state.
Slide from CJNV delegation orientation. (Photo: Charlie Zimmerman)
The leaders of the delegation, a group of very principled and courageous
people, asked us to focus on Palestinians and resistance to the occupation
in our reports on the delegation, rather than writing about ourselves. That
aspect of the work was indeed historic and covered extensively elsewhere,
including Haaretz, Al Jazeera, the Washington Post, and the Los Angeles
Times. So I am going to respectfully defy the leaders' admonishment because
the group's work also has notable implications on the relationship between
resistance to the occupation and the Jewish religion and tradition.
In Palestine, we heard extensively about the occupation from its victims.
One resistance organizer noted that Palestinians are "stereotyped as
terrorists like chocolate is stereotyped as sweet." I believe Judaism is
associated with Israel in a similar way. Any decoupling of Israel from
Judaism, such as our mission, disturbs or least jars many observers-they
might express surprise or even call Jews who challenge Israel "kapos,"
traitors, or self-hating Jews.
Indeed, when I told friends and relatives that I was going to the West Bank
to resist the occupation, some did point-blank call me "traitor" and an
"enemy." Others who were less vitriolic generally had a difficult time
understanding how a Jewish person could possibly go against Israel-they
tended to think I was a bit weird (which is true, but that's another story),
or that I wasn't really Jewish.
A commentator on an article I previously published about the delegation's
work brings this point home well, if a bit, hyperbolically:
"Mr. Zimmerman represents the crypto-enemy of Zionism and the so-called
'Jewish State' of Israel; and every unacceptable, immoral and unjustifiable
policy they stand for: he penned his observations having been there with the
Jewish group CJNV and - however secular by his own averral he may be - he's
Jewish. He is thus the detested and reviled JINO, the 'Capo', the
'self-hating Jew' whose criticism of the Zionist project and of the
Hasbara-im's beloved, flawless, sacrosanct Israel is the crime for which no
punishment can be sufficient; criticism, express or implicit, by a Jew of
Zionism and the State of Israel being worse than child-abuse, cannibalism
and robbery-with-violence combined. [sic]"
In hindsight, I realize that, prior to my participation in the CJNV
delegation, even I unconsciously thought of the Israeli state and Judaism as
equivalent to some degree. I knew that CJNV's slogan was "Occupation Is Not
My Judaism", but, unconsciously assuming that opposing Israel could not be
authentically "Jewish", I thought that we would focus only on the
"Occupation" part of the mission. I assumed that Judaism would only enter
the picture peripherally if at all, or maybe even cynically as a strategic
way to advance our agenda.
My experience in the delegation proved these assumptions dead wrong. Though
some secular Jews and atheists were present, the majority of participants,
including at least ten rabbis, were very committed to Judaism. Their
religion and tradition compels them to pursue justice for non-Jewish
inhabitants of Israel and therefore actively resist the occupation. And they
could support this position with plenty of Torah passages, commentary, and
interpretation.
"Justice, justice you shall pursue" (Deuteronomy 16:20), for instance, is a
central tenet of Judaism. Pursue-not value, love, or think it's just dandy:
we must always seek and struggle for justice. The CJNV activists lived this
principle. Many are active members of Jewish groups opposing the occupation
such as IfNotNow and Jewish Voice for Peace. In that capacity, they devote
much time and effort towards their goal of reversing unconditional support
for Israeli policy, often putting their bodies on the line and risking
arrest. And they did the same in Palestine when working to build and sustain
the Sumud Freedom Camp in the South Hebron Hills village of Sarura. The IDF
forcibly evicted Palestinians living in Sarura from their cave-homes about
20 years ago, and our mission was to rebuild these homes and move one of its
former inhabitants and his family back in. Though CJNV officially asked us
to participate in this action for only one full day, many activists camped
out in Sarura for five days straight, engaging in physically intensive
construction work while eschewing cell phone service, electricity, and
indoor plumbing. Some even stayed in the camp up to a week or more after
the delegation was officially over. Justice, justice they did pursue-and
then some.
Additionally, the more religious participants had a take on concepts such as
"Aliyah" and "Israel" that differed from convention and what I learned
growing up-in their view, both refer to spiritual abstractions rather than
concrete entities or actions. Aliyah refers to an unattainable goal of
ascending (the term literally means "ascent", not, as widely believed,
"return") to the ways of God in one's thoughts and action. As God is
infinite, this is an unattainable goal, but those who yearn for it
continually strive to act morally and improve themselves.
And "Israel" is seen both as a verb that means to struggle or wrestle with
God and a noun referencing God's covenant with the Jewish people. The
struggle means one seeks God's wisdom and guidance, but it also implies a
dialectic partnership with God that affects both parties. The covenant
represents a commitment of God to the Jews and vice versa. Jews honor this
commitment by living ethically and seeking justice according to God's will,
which they continuously seek to discern.
Thus, in naming the Zionist state Israel, its founders debased the spiritual
realm by implying that one could attain transcendent goals that we should
strive for but are always beyond reach in the physical realm. According to
one rabbi who participated the delegation, the Israeli state's primary
founder David Ben-Gurion's advisors warned him that the name "Israel" would
lead Jews to falsely conflate the spiritual concept with the new state.
Ben-Gurion's response: "That's fine with me."
All this armchair theology relates directly to CJNV's idea that occupation
resistance intersects with Jewish transformation. To the degree that we
identify Judaism with the Israeli state, it would be impossible to oppose
the latter without transforming the former. And despite what some of its
Orthodox adherents might believe, Judaism is a living religion and
tradition: Jacob's wrestling with God (he cannot take the name "Israel"
without engaging in this struggle), Talmudic debates, and evolving and
differing viewpoints about the role of Zionism all exemplify a religion and
tradition that at its essence embraces dialectic interaction and change.
So in supporting, opposing or remaining neutral on Jewish resistance to
occupation, we are also staking out positions on the future of Judaism
itself. Do we want our Jewish identities defined by allegiance to a
nation-state, or do we recognize this as perhaps the clearest, most
dangerous, and historically common example of idol worship there is? Do we
say "we have experienced persecution throughout history, so now it's our
turn to victimize others" or "we have experienced persecution throughout
history, so we should ensure at all costs that we never perpetuate it
ourselves?"
Maybe this struggle for the soul of Judaism is one reason why I have
observed an increase in visibility of and support for Jewish anti-occupation
organizations in the Diaspora. More and more of us, in addition to pursuing
justice, are fighting for Jewish identities we can embrace proudly and to
keep our tradition alive, compassionate, and meaningful. Diaspora Jews, for
the sake of Palestinians, ourselves, and our tradition, must continue to
raise our voices and insist that injustice being perpetrated in our name and
on our dime must end.