Six months ago, many college campuses across the country experienced mass sit-ins by pro Palestinian students and outsiders. In some cases those protests turned violent threatening the health and safety of the Jewish students on those campuses. To their credit, many college administrations stopped those demonstrations before they got out of hand, but a significant number allowed those protests to continue claiming they had a right to their free speech - the free speech that shouted: “resist by any means necessary” or shouting that the Jewish students on campus were Hamas’ next targets. Free speech indeed.
In response, students at Columbia University wrote a letter to the Columbia Community. It’s a forceful and articulate letter, some of which I’d like to share with you. The letter was written after Passover last year and this is what the students said: “Over the past six months, many have spoken in our name. Some are well-meaning alumni or non-affiliates who show up to wave the Israeli flag outside Columbia’s gates. Some are politicians looking to use our experiences to foment America’s culture war. Most notably, some are our Jewish peers who tokenize themselves by claiming to represent “real Jewish values,” and attempt to delegitimize our lived experiences of antisemitism. We are here, writing to you as Jewish students at Columbia University, who are connected to our community and deeply engaged with our culture and history. We would like to speak in our name.
“Many of us sit next to you in class. We are your lab partners, your study buddies, your peers, and your friends. We partake in the same student government, clubs, Greek life, volunteer organizations, and sports teams as you.
“Most of us did not choose to be political activists. We do not bang on drums and chant catchy slogans. We are average students, just trying to make it through finals much like the rest of you. Those who demonize us under the cloak of anti-Zionism forced us into our activism and forced us to publicly defend our Jewish identities.
“We proudly believe in the Jewish People’s right to self-determination in our historic homeland as a fundamental tenet of our Jewish identity. Contrary to what many have tried to sell you – no, Judaism cannot be separated from Israel. Zionism is, simply put, the manifestation of that belief.
“Our religious texts are replete with references to Israel, Zion, and Jerusalem. The land of Israel is filled with archaeological remnants of a Jewish presence spanning centuries. Yet, despite generations of living in exile and diaspora across the globe, the Jewish People never ceased dreaming of returning to our homeland — Judea, the very place from which we derive our name, “Jews.” Indeed just a couple of days ago, we all closed our Passover seders with the proclamation, “Next Year in Jerusalem!”
“Many of us are not religiously observant, yet Zionism remains a pillar of our Jewish identities. We have been kicked out of Russia, Libya, Ethiopia, Yemen, Afghanistan, Poland, Egypt, Algeria, Germany, Iran, and the list goes on. We connect to Israel not only as our ancestral homeland but as the only place in the modern world where Jews can safely take ownership of their own destiny. Our experiences at Columbia in the last six months are a poignant reminder of just that.
“We were raised on stories from our grandparents of concentration camps, gas chambers, and ethnic cleansing. The essence of Hitler’s antisemitism was the very fact that we were “not European” enough, that as Jews we were threats to the “superior” Aryan race. This ideology ultimately left six million of our own in ashes.
“The evil irony of today’s antisemitism is a twisted reversal of our Holocaust legacy; protestors on campus have dehumanized us, imposing upon us the characterization of the “white colonizer.” We have been told that we are “the oppressors of all brown people” and that “the Holocaust wasn’t special.” Students at Columbia have chanted “we don’t want no Zionists here,” alongside “death to the Zionist State” and to “go back to Poland,” where our relatives lie in mass graves.
“This sick distortion illuminates the nature of antisemitism: In every generation, the Jewish People are blamed and scapegoated as responsible for the societal evil of the time. In Iran and in the Arab world, we were ethnically cleansed for our presumed ties to the “Zionist entity.” In Russia, we endured state-sponsored violence and were ultimately massacred for being capitalists. In Europe, we were the victims of genocide because we were communists and not European enough. And today, we face the accusation of being too European, painted as society’s worst evils – colonizers and oppressors. We are targeted for our belief that Israel, our ancestral and religious homeland, has a right to exist. We are targeted by those who misuse the word Zionist as a sanitized slur for Jew, synonymous with racist, oppressive, or genocidal. We know all too well that antisemitism is shapeshifting.
“We are proud of Israel. The only democracy in the Middle East, Israel is home to millions of Mizrachi Jews (Jews of Middle Eastern descent), Ashkenazi Jews (Jews of Central and Eastern European descent), and Ethiopian Jews, as well as millions of Arab Israelis, over one million Muslims, and hundreds of thousands of Christians and Druze. Israel is nothing short of a miracle for the Jewish People and for the Middle East more broadly.
“Our love for Israel does not necessitate blind political conformity. It’s quite the opposite. For many of us, it is our deep love for and commitment to Israel that pushes us to object when its government acts in ways we find problematic. Israeli political disagreement is an inherently Zionist activity; look no further than the protests against Netanyahu’s judicial reforms – from New York to Tel Aviv – to understand what it means to fight for the Israel we imagine. All it takes are a couple of coffee chats with us to realize that our visions for Israel differ dramatically from one another. Yet we all come from a place of love and an aspiration for a better future for Israelis and Palestinians alike.”
What a powerful letter. It took courage and bravery to write that letter and to disseminate it in the midst of the violent protests at Columbia last Spring. And within this letter lies a lot of truth which I’d like to expand upon tonight. I shared last week how I have felt a sense of abandonment this year and that I haven’t been heard because the other side has a different narrative. Those feelings often leave me questioning my own story. The more I read about and learn of antisemitic attacks a part of me asks, “are they right”? The more I read about the false narratives I question the validity of my own. But, at the same time I feel resigned. Resigned to the age old hatred and the centuries old Jewish condition of being unwanted. And at the same time I feel angry. How dare these ignorant people yell these hateful words and how dare they spew lies.
It is that see-saw of emotions that has affected me terribly this year. Feeling unworthy, feeling hate, feeling anger are all horrible feelings to have. The more they fester, the more they affect one’s demeanor and mental health. The more we are abused, the deeper the wound goes and the harder it becomes to heal.
Yom Kippur allows us to begin to heal. We spend all this time in synagogue this evening and tomorrow, focused on the liturgy which guides us to honestly come to terms with who we are, what we’ve done and how we can change. But the liturgy also reminds us of our place in history. It reminds us in most graphic terms in the martyrology service tomorrow afternoon, how we were killed by our enemies for being Jewish. Those martyrs died while proclaiming their faith and their love for being Jewish. They are supposed to serve as role models for us. Even in the harshest times we should still feel love of our tradition and remain steadfast in our commitment to our values.
As we gather as a community to say these public and personal prayers it is imperative to be reminded of our narrative and to feel proud of who we are. This is one way for us to combat the falsehoods and to heal from the pain. Our story is an ancient one. The Torah says it goes back to Abraham and Sarah nearly 4,000 years ago. God spoke to Abraham and Sarah and told them to leave their homeland, to journey to a new land and to settle there. As a reward for doing so, God promises that their name will be a blessing and that they will be parents of a great nation. Our story as a Jewish people stems from Abraham and Sarah and the rest of our history to the present time can be understood in terms of a relationship with that land - the land of Israel.
Others might want us to believe that our story is false. That the Bible isn’t true and that we were interlopers in that land. But archeology has proven that we’ve been in Israel for at least 3,000 years. An amulet was found in the dirt from the Temple Mount that contains verses from the Torah - in fact the priestly blessing - written in Hebrew. It was dated to the time of the 1st Temple - roughly 3,000 years old. Our language is ancient and our existence in the land of Israel is ancient as well.
Since the destruction of the 2nd Temple in Jerusalem nearly 2,000 years ago we have been praying 3 times a day for our return to our land. No matter how at home we may have felt in a variety of countries over the centuries - whether in Spain 1,000 years ago or in Germany 90 years ago or here in America since 1654 - we still have been praying for the day when that dream of Israel’s rebirth will become a reality.
More than 100 years ago, Theodor Herzl decided to make that spiritual dream become a political reality. The name for that political movement - Zionism - was simply a new term for our age old desire. Zionism wasn’t a new movement of White European Jews suddenly desiring a nation like other nations. It wasn’t a copycat political system meant to bring German or French or British versions of democracy to the Middle East. Zionism was a way to empower the poor and persecuted Jews of Europe. A way to respond to the Alfred Dreyfus trial in France (the Jewish French soldier falsely convicted of treason which led to years of antisemitism in France) which occurred around the same time as scores of Jews were massacred in the Kishinev pogrom in Russia. As a result of being under verbal attack in so-called civilized France and literally under attack in barbaric Russia, Zionism provided a path to autonomy and most importantly safety for the Jews of Europe.
Some have argued - and the UN passed a resolution 50 years ago claiming - that Zionism is racism. They argue that Zionism desires a state for Jews and run by Jews to the exclusion of other people. Though there have been extremist Zionists and Israelis who have argued to kick the Arabs out of Israel, mainstream Jewish Zionists have always desired to live in peace with their non-Jewish neighbors. As all countries come to terms with how their majority ethnic group deals with their minority ethnic groups, so too Israel has been trying to do so. America has been struggling with how the White Christian majority accommodates Blacks, Latinos, etc. here. Every country faces the same dilemma. And of course so does Israel. But Israel’s declaration of independence clearly states: “THE STATE OF ISRAEL will be open for Jewish immigration and for the Ingathering of the Exiles; it will foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel; it will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions; and it will be faithful to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations.”
As Israel’s war with Hamas and other Iranian proxies continues and as antisemitic incidents continue to occur here, it is imperative that we feel confident and secure in our identity. We cannot give in to these attacks by thinking that they and their lies are right. We cannot allow ourselves to be swayed by their narrative and to question our own. We must stand tall and proud. We must try to let our 4,000 year old story, our Torah, our moral and ethical values guide us and strengthen us.
How can we do this? I strongly suggest, as I mentioned last week, that we restrict what we read. Don’t be tempted to read comments in social media posts. They are unfiltered and they mostly contain hate and lies. I have found that staying off of X and not reading political posts on FaceBook has maintained my sanity this year. I also suggest limiting the news outlets you read. There is nothing wrong with reading what you like. Personally I prefer the Wall Street Journal and the Times of Israel. I trust their reporting of the news and I like how strongly they support Israel and how especially the WSJ refers to Hamas as a terrorist organization. I know that I should be more open minded and should be aware of what the other side has to say. That’s fine for other political issues, but it’s not fine for Israel. Because most of the time the other side is anti Israel and tells a false narrative.
But most importantly we must find our strength in community. It is comforting to come to shul for services and other programs and just instinctively know that we are safe and we are among friends. It’s good to know that we can find refuge here, find support and comfort here, find help here in combatting, as our evening service says, “the evil forces that surround us.”
The Columbia students concluded their letter with this hope: “We came to Columbia because we wanted to expand our minds and engage in complex conversations. While campus may be riddled with hateful rhetoric and simplistic binaries now, it is never too late to start repairing the fractures and begin developing meaningful relationships across political and religious divides. Our tradition tells us, “Love peace and pursue peace.” We hope you will join us in earnestly pursuing peace, truth, and empathy. Together we can repair our campus.”
As our Yom Kippur services continue tonight and tomorrow let us seriously reflect upon these issues. Let us come to terms with who we are and what we want to be as moral and ethical human beings and as Jews. May we feel proud of our identity and together may we begin to heal and may we bring healing to others. Amen.
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