Beyond the Flags
by Gili Getz
Dear friends,
Before I left my house last Sunday to participate in the weekly demonstration against the legal overhaul that would demolish the separation of powers in Israel, I debated what symbol or slogan to bring. Israel’s outwardly racist Minister of National Security had recently begun to enforce an old ban on Palestinian flags, so perhaps that’s the thing to wear. After all, the Palestinians are the ones who would suffer most if this overhaul took place. On the other hand, there are those who claim that this is an internal Israeli issue, removed from the larger conflict, and the way to beat this law is with Israeli flags. Indeed the protests in Israel have been a sea of blue and white flags. Maybe a joint flag is the right move, I pondered? Or maybe all this flag business is nonsense. I printed out a slogan in Hebrew from demonstrations past: “Jews and Arabs refuse to be enemies,” taped it to my jacket and headed out.
When I arrived at Washington Square Park, I learned that one of the other speakers, an Israeli American named Udi Aloni, didn’t feel comfortable speaking since there were only Israeli flags. A few minutes later, however someone showed up with two flags, one Palestinian and the other half Israeli half Palestinian. She gave Udi the Palestinian one and he came into the fold. As soon as he came near the other few hundred folks assembled an argument ensued. Several loud voices demanded that Udi remove the flag. “This isn’t what this protest is about,” they said. “It’s about democracy,” he roared, “From the river to the sea all the people must be free!” “This isn’t the time for that,” they answered.
Palestinian flags have been an issue at the demonstrations in Israel too. The first few weeks, in classic fashion, the left couldn’t agree, so there were two separate demos in Tel Aviv. Since, they have found a way to bring everyone together, so long as those with Palestinian flags stay in a corner off to the side. Here in New York, the demonstration kept coming back to this bitter argument.
When it came my turn to speak, I described my worry that if this overhaul passes, my nieces and nephews will have no future there, that my father would be arrested for his peace activism and the courts would be powerless to help him.
I then spoke about the opportunity this moment offers for the country to change course. The first ever event of “the faithful left,” Jews whose God speaks to them not of land but of the value of every human life, drew 700 people in Jerusalem last week. Maybe even the association between right wing policy and being a religious Jew could be challenged.
There is hope in this moment: Imagine half of the US going on strike and instead of going to work showing up in Washington to demonstrate. This coming Monday will be the second in a row in which something like that takes place there. It is a hopeful “Kumah” moment, in which the people are rising up. My friends there describe a marvelous scene in which Israelis of all types are protesting, including some settlers, ultra-orthodox Jews, Mizrahi, Ashkenazi, gay, straight, old and young.
But one population is notably absent. It’s hard to ignore the tribal tone of these calls for democracy. A Palestinian citizen of Israel was beaten up last week during the demonstration in Tel Aviv because he was calling for an end to the occupation. Even in New York the mere sight of the Palestinian flag threw people into a rage. Events like these turn my positive feelings to what my father called “dark hope.”
From my vantage point, this moment offers an opportunity to join Jews and Arabs together for democracy. Otherwise, the country will not only continue to rule over half of the population there without giving them basic rights – as the Israeli courts have allowed mind you - but it will also remain on track to become a restrictive theocracy for all. The coalition agreement between Netanyahu and the ultra-orthodox Shas includes a clause to give the religious courts - where women are not allowed to be judges, and often prevented from speaking - equal power to the civic courts. Preventing this government's legal overhaul from happening is crucial to creating a sustainable future.
Before I closed my remarks, I pulled out my grandmother, Dina z”l’s book and showed it to the crowd. The year before she passed, she was reading the prophets. I quoted the prophet Amos’s words, suggesting two paths available to the Israelites of old. One leads to exile – “Israel will surely be exiled from its land” - and the other to a peaceful joy:
“They shall rebuild ruined cities and inhabit them;
They shall plant vineyards and drink their wine;
They shall till gardens and eat their fruits.”
But perhaps it’s the final verse that my Savta ever quoted me that is most relevant:
לֹא־נָבִ֣יא אָנֹ֔כִי וְלֹ֥א בֶן־נָבִ֖יא אָנֹ֑כִי כִּי־בוֹקֵ֥ר אָנֹ֖כִי וּבוֹלֵ֥ס שִׁקְמִֽים׃
“I’m no prophet, nor the child of a prophet. I’m just a shepherd who grows figs.”
Don’t label me with titles, says Amos, or weigh me down with your flags. Any visions I may share, grow out of nothing but my simple human life.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Misha