Perceptions III
One final thought, which has to do with how the Jewish community responds to criticism of Israel, of support for Israel (as in the Walt-Mearsheimer paper), of Holocaust scholarship (as in the recent visit of Norman Finkelstein to NU's campus): A lot of this boils down to how we each individually, and collectively, answer the question, "Are Jews powerful?"
For my parents' generation, which lived through the Six-Day War, which grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust, which lived with the remnants of quotas in universities, the answer to that question seemed, for a long time at least, to be emphatically "No." For people of my generation, however, who have grown up with an Israel that dwarfs its neighbors in military power and economic output; in an America in which Jewish wealth and political power have achieved unprecedented levels; and an academic setting in which 85 percent of American Jews go to college, and 20 to 25 percent of the student population at many of America's best universities are Jews, the answer feels much more like, "Of course Jews are powerful."
Depending on how we answer this question--and it's never so simple as "yes" or "no"--we assume a posture vis-a-vis the rest of the world. If we say Jews are weak, we invest much more in shoring up the Jewish community and its institutions, and we respond to criticism and perceived threats with all our might, with our loudest and shrillest voice. But if we say Jews are strong, we begin to think about investing our efforts outside the Jewish community--because the Jews don't need us, right?. We respond to criticism and perceived threats strategically, sometimes avoiding them or dealing with them quietly, rather than loudly and publicly.
In the past few months at NU, we have endured Arthur Butz and Norman Finkelstein. We have also had the occasional letter to the editor (see below) which paints a very negative portrait of Israel and potentially of Jewish power. Some alums and concerned parties write me emails asking, "Where is Hillel's loud and vociferous reponse?"
Perhaps because I am a child of the generation into which I was born, perhaps for other reasons, I believe our best response is not an argument or debate, but putting on our best face. So I rode on the bus with 100 NU students coming back to Chicago from the DC rally to save Darfur; and Hillel sponsored the Israel IndepenDANCE party, where 500 kids danced and moved and rocked to Israeli music.
The public consciousness--at least the one I'm familiar with--has tired of the debates of victimhood, and who suffered more. It's time to end the suffering, of the Jews, of the Palestinians, of the Darfuri. We all agree on that. So let's end the suffering. Let's get out of Gaza, let's get out of the West Bank, let's do what we can to help the Palestinians succeed--it's in our own interest--and let's demand some responsibility from them. But let's not kid ourselves or let our neighbors kid themselves--we may be powerful, and we will do everything we can, but at the end of the day, the victim has to want to stop being a victim if he is ever going to be whole.
For my parents' generation, which lived through the Six-Day War, which grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust, which lived with the remnants of quotas in universities, the answer to that question seemed, for a long time at least, to be emphatically "No." For people of my generation, however, who have grown up with an Israel that dwarfs its neighbors in military power and economic output; in an America in which Jewish wealth and political power have achieved unprecedented levels; and an academic setting in which 85 percent of American Jews go to college, and 20 to 25 percent of the student population at many of America's best universities are Jews, the answer feels much more like, "Of course Jews are powerful."
Depending on how we answer this question--and it's never so simple as "yes" or "no"--we assume a posture vis-a-vis the rest of the world. If we say Jews are weak, we invest much more in shoring up the Jewish community and its institutions, and we respond to criticism and perceived threats with all our might, with our loudest and shrillest voice. But if we say Jews are strong, we begin to think about investing our efforts outside the Jewish community--because the Jews don't need us, right?. We respond to criticism and perceived threats strategically, sometimes avoiding them or dealing with them quietly, rather than loudly and publicly.
In the past few months at NU, we have endured Arthur Butz and Norman Finkelstein. We have also had the occasional letter to the editor (see below) which paints a very negative portrait of Israel and potentially of Jewish power. Some alums and concerned parties write me emails asking, "Where is Hillel's loud and vociferous reponse?"
Perhaps because I am a child of the generation into which I was born, perhaps for other reasons, I believe our best response is not an argument or debate, but putting on our best face. So I rode on the bus with 100 NU students coming back to Chicago from the DC rally to save Darfur; and Hillel sponsored the Israel IndepenDANCE party, where 500 kids danced and moved and rocked to Israeli music.
The public consciousness--at least the one I'm familiar with--has tired of the debates of victimhood, and who suffered more. It's time to end the suffering, of the Jews, of the Palestinians, of the Darfuri. We all agree on that. So let's end the suffering. Let's get out of Gaza, let's get out of the West Bank, let's do what we can to help the Palestinians succeed--it's in our own interest--and let's demand some responsibility from them. But let's not kid ourselves or let our neighbors kid themselves--we may be powerful, and we will do everything we can, but at the end of the day, the victim has to want to stop being a victim if he is ever going to be whole.
posted by Rabbi Josh Feigelson | 7:25 PM
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