Unlikely Outsider

solidarity via acronyms

2011-09-02T16:52:00.000-07:00

It is itself a kind of paternalism to assume that oppressed people speak with one voice, whereas in our own communities that is never the case. Of course you want to express solidarity in the struggle for self-determination of any people. And it is indeed problematic to sit in a position of privilege and dictate to an oppressed person how they should be doing things. On the other hand, you might actually know something they don't about, say, the political climate in your own community.

I am most effective when I recognize how my own struggle and your struggle are one and the same. That is the real meaning of solidarity. Practically speaking, dividing the world into oppressed and oppressor is not that empowering to anyone. Let's call each other on it when we fail to account for privilege and cause actual harm. But let's not pretend that's not an inevitable possibility regardless of the ways in which we choose to engage. Convincing yourself that you are just following the lead of oppressed people does not make you immune from behaving in problematic ways, and it's not useful to pretend otherwise.

So, say I want to have solidarity with my Palestinian peers. I want them to know that they aren't alone, that people - including American Jews! - are with them, and doing what we can to help. I think that targeting my own society and government is more relevant than targeting the Israeli state as the source of all the problems. It does seem hypocritical, as Noam Chomsky points out, to target Israel for boycott, divestment, and sanctions (BDS) and not our own government which is culpable in so many problems in the world, including this one.

And don't we have more responsibility for the actions of our own government? Israel may act in my name, as a Jew, but it is not my country. I don't vote for its leaders, I've never lived there, I don't speak the language, I have little in common with its inhabitants except a shared religious/ethnic background with the Ashkenazi sub-set of the population.

Not all of us need to work within the American Jewish community. Some Jews on the left do feel a profound sense of alienation from Jewish organizations here at home. The gatherings of the farther left are far more populated by the otherwise marginalized among Jews. It's more female. It's more queer. It's not surprising. Why work within a community that doesn't necessarily respect you anyway?

And then there's the issue of working within the system versus people power. Some of us find it disempowering to focus on convincing members of Congress to adopt a slightly less reactionary right-wing position, buying into a corrupt system of campaign finance and lobbyists in the process. BDS* is something we can support and feel like we're doing something tangible with a clear conscience.

While it feels nice to take direct action, and it feels nice to have the genuine appreciation of Palestinian peers, it's important not to kid ourselves about how much of an impact our BDS efforts can really have. The other good point that Chomsky makes in that link above is about the South Africa analogy. By the time that the boycott movement really got going, there had been a couple of decades of educational work on the ground, building popular opinion against apartheid, so it was natural for a boycott movement to find wide support. That hasn't been done in this case. Supporters of the full boycott, while hoping to be vindicated by history, simply marginalize themselves in the short-term... which doesn't make for the same level of effectiveness.

Some supporters and opponents of BDS* have questioned whether the distinction between "full" BDS against all Israeli society and targeted BDS against the occupation is a bit too academic. I don't think so. People get the distinction if you sit down and talk to them. It is actually possible to convince a liberal sympathizer with Israel that targeted boycott of the occupation is justifiable. Those folks will never be won over to a full boycott. They are immediately suspicious of the motives of its proponents. And frankly, I often am as well. It's one thing for Palestinians to call for it. Good for them. They are striving for self-determination and embracing non-violent tactics. But the self-righteous American activists who confuse tactic with moral authority too often in this struggle do give me pause.

Some American activists seem more concerned with purity of moral conscience than many Palestinians. Plenty of Palestinians would like the BDS movement to enjoy broad support, but they are happy for any support that they can tell is motivated out of genuine concern for them, human rights, and our shared future, rather than cynical Zionist attempts to end the occupation for the sake of maintaining a Jewish-majority state. And even that last type of movement might be better than nothing.

So, yes, BDS* is legitimate. It is ridiculous to call it anti-Semitic. I won't work against it. But I'm not convinced it's the most effective way to make a difference right here, right now.

I'll focus on political campaigns that target the occupation. I think that talking about social justice issues within Israeli society can also provide a useful opening for critical discourse. And for targeting our own government, it would be nice to have a JStreet that was more conscience-driven than cynically political. (It's not an inherently sell-out thing to lobby members of Congress, as long as you're not lobbying against what you ostensibly support, e.g. a Palestinian state**).

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*note to readers: BDS = boycott, divestment, and sanctions. Apologies for excessive acronym usage.

**e.g. the "Two State Summer" goal of making a vote on Palestinian statehood in the UN "unnecessary." Please.

Happy Pride

2011-06-26T17:15:00.000-07:00

Jewish identity in America

2011-05-19T13:57:00.000-07:00

Last week, Jonathan Sarna gave a couple of lectures at the UW on the history of American Judaism. He has a framework for thinking about involvement in Jewish religious life as cyclical, and mirroring larger cyclical trends in American religious observance. In his view, sometimes upswings mirror larger trends or are controlled by outside world events, and other times they are a result of new practices instituted by young people which later become mainstream.

While history is certainly cyclical, cycles operate on a variety of time frames, and can be overlaid on long-term trends as well. I think that in support of his view of a cyclical nature of American Jewish life Sarna confuses moments of revolution in Jewish life with reform of a less substantive nature.

The break from orthodoxy of the genesis of modern liberal Judaism was revolutionary. The modern synagogue model that followed also constituted a new framework, for people who no longer lived in closed Jewish communities to center their Jewish life in one institution.

But the innovations of the Havurah movement that were later incorporated by mainstream congregations constitute more of a reform of an existing system. Seeing their contribution as responsible for an upswing propagates the illusion that reforming the synagogue model will solve its problems of relevance to a new generation.

Most troubling was a response to a question at the end of the talk. Sarna said that for the next upswing to happen we need a new galvanizing issue to get people connected to their Jewish identity. Apparently social justice won't do it, because Louis Brandeis had a social justice-oriented daughter who married a non-Jew. Social justice, it seems, is not uniquely Jewish enough.

What does he think motivated all those prior galvanizing movements that he references? Fighting anti-Semitism, Zionism, saving Soviet Jewry... were all justified in a social justice context, rightly or wrongly. What is the end goal? Not to perpetuate Judaism just to perpetuate it, but rather because it contains something of value. Social justice has always been a huge part of it.

Maybe we have a unique perspective or maybe not. Of course identity is problematic, of course it is a construct anyway, but if there is nothing fundamental of value underneath it all, then forget it. I am not the only one to note the cynicism in Sarna's call and critically reflect on the point of Jewish peoplehood.

I will suggest that many young folks already have a sense of identity that is modern and not terribly different from that of many immigrant communities in the United States. The way to be relevant is to be modern. The things that keep me away are backwards-thinking politics on Israel, non-queer friendly spaces, and a racist middle-class hegemony. It's the fact that organizations avoid working on politically-controversial social-justice solidarity within their own local communities.

The things that attract me are educational activities that help me explore the Jewish identity that I already have: substance about history and culture that has shaped my own family and community. The social justice stuff is nice too, but Sarna is right that I don't need a Jewish community to find that. But when I do find it, I feel more comfortable and at home.

There is no magic bullet. Just be progressive and modern and open. (We can tell when it's for real and fundamental to how you do everything and when it is just a ruse.)

And if we create our own communities instead where half of us can marry non-Jews but still stay involved, if we focus on universal themes like social-justice, if we create a more radical shift in what Jewish community looks like in America, that would not be a failure.

Obama's speech fails

2011-05-19T12:18:00.000-07:00

So many reassuring things in the first part of Obama's speech today. We heard praise for peaceful revolution in the Arab world, criticism even of American allies. There was even something about debt forgiveness for Egypt, in the midst of a section on economic development. (I do still get nervous when Americans start threatening to get the IMF and World Bank to "help".)

One sentiment that I liked:

The United States supports a set of universal rights. And these rights include free speech, the freedom of peaceful assembly, the freedom of religion, equality for men and women under the rule of law, and the right to choose your own leaders -– whether you live in Baghdad or Damascus, Sanaa or Tehran.

I wanted to hear him add, "Ramallah or Tel Aviv" to that list. I waited and waited to hear about Israel/Palestine, and the remarks were saved for the end. It was like a different speech tacked onto the first one about hope for the Arab world.

The Israel/Palestine part was full of the usual platitudes. It's important to engage the issue, the parties need to negotiate, America supports two states. There was nothing to back this up though. No promises or threats of specific American actions.

In the spirit of the first part of the speech, imagine if Obama would have invoked the young Israelis and Palestinians who march every week for universal rights for residents of the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood of East Jerusalem. What a fine indirect rebuke to Bibi's plans to increase settlement activity just announced.

While it's true that he handed Bibi Netanyahu a policy victory, I'm not even primarily frustrated that there was no shift in American policy to be more aggressive on the issue. Obama said basically what Dennis Ross said at the JStreet meeting, and didn't stick around to hear the response to. No surprises.

I think that Obama missed an opportunity to reframe the whole Israel/Palestine conflict in the context of the Arab Spring - to make it about human dignity, youth, freedom and human rights. Of course Israelis and Palestinians all have the right not to live in fear. But as a separate matter, Palestinians also have a right to be citizens of some state that treats them as equal citizens under the law. Here, in the litany of Arab people struggling for freedom, might have been inserted mention of Palestinian rights without "balancing" it with a mention of Israeli security as though fundamental freedoms should be conditional on a political resolution to the larger conflict.

I will admit that I succumbed to the admonition to write to Obama ahead of his speech. I told him that I voted for him and not Netanyahu. I didn't even mention the other stuff that I'm pissed at him for: all the Bush war crimes he's made his own, the war against whistle-blowers and continued invasions of our privacy. I just asked him to see the Palestinian struggle in the context of other uprisings in the region that we supposedly support, before it is too late for two states.

Why is it that I keep wanting to hope Obama will be different and do the right thing, even after evidence mounts that is not a reasonable expectation?

What is Nakba day?

2011-05-15T13:46:00.000-07:00

This sums up the problem pretty well. According to the Guardian:

...Nakba, or "catastrophe", the term used by Palestinians to describe the uprooting they suffered at the time of Israel's founding on 15 May 1948...

And according to Ha'aretz:

Nakba Day is a Palestinian day to mourn the creation of the State of Israel.

According to the first view it's about Palestinian victimhood. According to the second view it's all Israeli victimhood - being hated apparently for no reason, just because that's how it always is. It's fatalistic and it's harder and harder to apologize for the legitimate fears of the old-timers that are the root of the second view.

People throughout the Arab world are standing up for their freedom. Why should Palestinians be different? Peaceful protesters march. Whether the tear gas proceeds the stones or vice versa, there must be a better way to respond than with bullets and more fear-mongering.

Can no one try for once to recognize that there are multiple conflicting narratives of this history? The way we see ourselves is so different from how we see the Other. It's getting old.

a new sciency blog

2011-04-15T00:31:00.000-07:00

I've created a separate blog to share my upcoming trip to Svalbard. This way my fans can read about science and adventures without having to wade through rants on Israel/Palestine. If you're only interested in intractable politics, then feel free to ignore this link. Although I can't promise that no disheartening mentions of climate change will be made in the context of my Arctic research sojourn.

"Some arguments you don't have in order that you will win"

2011-03-12T20:07:00.000-08:00

Perhaps a sign of the effectiveness of Howard Jacobson's The Finkler Question as literature, it dealt with controversial issues without making it abundantly clear what were the author's own politics. With all the ambiguity, I was left searching for hints. Clearly the "ASHamed Jews", an anti-Zionist group of Jewish Brits, is something of a parody. But, it seems it is not so much their politics that is being parodied.

"Criticise Israel all you like. It depends, as everything depends, on the temperature of your rhetoric and so on. But the 'ASHamed Jews' for me are a parody of people who are sanctimonious about their beliefs." he is quoted in the Independent.

In the end, you get the feeling that Jacobson identifies with the confused, frustrated state in which he leaves Sam Finkler: disillusioned with the ashamed Jews, concerned about a rising tide of anti-Semitism. Despite continuing to disagree with Israeli policy, he is too concerned with the perceived anti-Semitism of all the others who make a fuss about it to continue speaking out. He comes to have more respect for his late wife's observations: why should he feel responsible or ashamed over what is done by others in some other country that is not his own, just because it is being done by other Jews? Why should he hold them to a higher standard?

His earlier eagerness to speak out is portrayed as overly simplistic and vanity-driven. Although not young when he gets involved, it takes the exaggerated ill-informed arguments of his college-age son to help him see the youthful foolishness, nay dangerousness, of making a cause of justice for Palestinians: if it doesn't spring from anti-Semitism, it easily leads there.

Howard Jacobson is pessimistic about youth in general as it turns out. He seems to think we are all rather ignorant and untrustworthy. No wonder that the Finkler Question is not a hopeful novel. Though it made me laugh aloud on many occasions, its humor is of a certain dry, existential variety. It's done well because it helps to illustrate realities of the human condition we prefer to ignore.

I'm not saying he need have found hope in the younger generation; anyone would do. There is not a character in the book without a serious failing of ethics or imagination. Everyone thinks about their own interests, or worse they think tribally. No one is motivated by the universalizing humanism which might figure in a more optimistic exploration of Jewish identity.

For that matter, no one models a healthy relationship, romantic or platonic. And no one is ever satisfied with their life. Of course happy, well-adjusted people are boring to read about, but so are disaffected caricatures. Luckily, it is ideas and not characters (nor plot) that drive this novel. It should be read because it tackles uncomfortable and controversial aspects of Jewish identity, among other things. I look forward to discussing it with my book group because I look forward to delving into those arguments. Rather Finklerish of me I know.

young Jewish America

2011-02-27T13:49:00.000-08:00

From the conclusion to a new article in Zeek by Eitan Isaacson:

Our movement does not talk in the language of nationalism. You won’t hear anthems, you rarely see flags. We speak for human rights and social justice: this is the language of young Jewish America. The welfare of Israelis is inviolable; the rights of Palestinians are sacred. But states are mundane. The Jewish Federations of North America could spend more millions re-branding Israel, sending us on free trips and coating it all in chocolate, but we will put our faith in people, not in governments: we believe in Jewish ideals, not in empty symbols of nationalism. Our Judaism does not require us to “love Israel”: it requires us to love our fellow humans, Palestinian or Israeli, Jewish or not. We will remain true to our Judaism, with or without the local Hillel’s support.

So nicely stated that I had to share. I want this to end up being true of our generation.

so many silly lawsuits

2011-02-07T20:30:00.000-08:00

In case you didn't hear, there was a big controversy in Seattle in December over a Metro bus ad that never even ran. It was supposed to say "Israeli War Crimes: Your Tax Dollars at Work" and had a picture of some bombed out building in Gaza with a sad looking child looking at you. It can be seen here.

It sucks that the original ad was not a model of good messaging or truly promoting "awareness". I basically think that Richard Silverstein's rant on this one is right on. But the counter-ads were, if anything, more offensive. One of them actually proposed plastering a picture from a bus bombing in Israel from several years ago on the side of a bus! It doesn't get much more tasteless than that.

Now the Seattle Mideast Awareness Campaign, who funded the ad, is suing the county because King County Executive Dow Constantine decided to block the ad from running. They have a pretty good case, because other non-commercial ads have definitely gone on buses here - including some unpopular ones announcing that such well-loved figures as Santa Claus and God do not really exist.

This Israel ad generated quite a bit of controversy though. My conservative uncle in another city forwarded me an email alert about it, for example. And apparently the international notice is part of the county's argument in their court documents.

They provide a quote from someone who says that a reference to the bus ad appeared on a Hamas-affiliated website. Later in the brief, they explain:

Because transit systems are spread out and difficult to secure, they have become international targets of choice for individuals and groups intent on disruption and violence... Moreover, since at least one known terrorist group was aware of the SeaMAC Ad, it is reasonable to infer that this group would also have learned about the Counter-Ads... Under such circumstances, it was responsible for King County to act to reduce Metro's visibility to terrorist groups and the risk of terrorist violence.

Seriously. There are so many things wrong with this. But it's not clear if they actually believed it, or are just trying to make a legal argument. (They will argue that they did not violate existing policies, if they believed the decision was necessary to protect public safety.) Regardless, I am offended by most everyone involved.

I am offended by the SMAC group that thinks it's a victory to have a legal case against the county, wherein the public loses out via lost ad revenue from the new ad policy or at least via legal costs, and no actual dialogue on the issues is promoted.

I am offended by the tasteless counter-ads. And I'm not impressed with the county, which has attempted to sacrifice free-speech to make this go away, and which now makes ill-informed statements on imaginary terror threats to cover its ass legally. That itself adds needless inflammatory content to the public debate.

new old news on Jimmy Carter

2011-02-05T19:47:00.000-08:00

Isn't his book "Palestine: Peace not Apartheid" old news? The book came out in 2006. But now, apparently some folks are pursuing a class-action lawsuit against the Nobel Peace Prize winner over their objections to content in the book. It's crazy because if you actually read it, it's way less inflammatory than lots and lots of things written about the conflict. It remains clear that if he hadn't put the word "apartheid" in the title it would never have generated such controversy.

I don't like having flashbacks to the controversy it generated in 2006. At the time I lived in Tempe, Arizona and got an email from the local Hillel asking me to turn out for a protest at one of his book signings. Seriously. They wanted to protest Jimmy Carter - the American president who has achieved more than any other in the realm of advancing Israeli security, via the peace treaty with Egypt.

It seems almost laughable from where I'm sitting now, surrounded by progressive Jewish community. But at the time it sucked. I thought I'd buy the book and actually read it so that I could use it as a tool to advance dialogue on the issues. So silly of me. No one was interested, or else I just couldn't find receptive people to talk to. This reflected my general sense of isolation as a progressive Jew when I lived in Arizona. I jumped at the controversy around Jimmy Carter's book, looking for an excuse to engage in discussion.

It's not even that amazing of a book. If you're looking for a history, there are plenty of better ones. It's targeted at a Christian audience. That's who his moral and cultural values are meant to resonate with, as far as convincing new people that they should care about the conflict. The most interesting parts are when he talks about personal relationships with world leaders, and his perspective on historical events like negotiating peace treaties and monitoring elections.

And he doesn't even argue that Israel is an apartheid state. He simply compares the situation in the West Bank to apartheid, which is not illegitimate to do. I still try to avoid the term, however, to avoid being inflammatory. There are plenty of accurate ways to describe the situation which convey moral condemnation, without using buzz terms out of historical context that are proven to upset people before they even listen to what you have to say.

Lesson learned. Some people just won't let it go.

the feminist response to accusations against Assange

2010-12-21T01:50:00.000-08:00

Pointing out (correctly) that it's not cool to belittle allegations of rape, bsom links to posts on Tiger Beatdown, which I think take a perspective on the Assange case that is way too black and white. It's good evidence of how we all generalize from our own experiences in the absence of sufficient information.

And, yes, giving out those ladies names was bad because it is buying into the conspiracy narrative: also a black and white view of things. But I don't think it means that Michael Moore and Keith Olbermann don't care about women. I think it means that they have tendencies to believe conspiracy theories. Also, it's kind of silly to subsume yourself so thoroughly in a twitter campaign. (For real: it's twitter.)

I think everyone should watch this debate on democracy now: part1 and part 2.

I think it's fascinating how both Jaclyn Friedman and Naomi Wolf read the allegations really differently with different sets of assumptions about what actually happened. I can imagine it more than one way.

Whether this is bad for rape victims because it was rape and the women are getting belittled or because it was not but is getting so much attention, the only thing they can agree on is that this whole thing is not helping rape victims.

I agree with Naomi Wolf more as far as her vision of feminism... where the goal is not to criminalize as rape every problematic interaction, but rather for the legal system to be fair and treat women like adults, and to empower women and men by changing the culture.

Until there is more information (which very possibly will be never), my own biases lead me to assume that this is not at all black and white. It is entirely possible that those ladies felt mistreated and didn't have evil intentions coming forward, and that Assange is a paranoid, egotistical asshole, but not a criminal.

So, bottom line, making fun of the allegations and accusing the women of some conspiracy: not cool. There's no evidence of their being disingenuous. On the other hand, officials in the US government proclaim openly that they're out to get Assange. We should focus on that. Hence, turning around and saying that all the people who emphasize the politically motivated response to this case don't care about rape victims: also not cool.

Can we get a little nuance? Just because it's effed-up to automatically assume that the Swedish women are some stereotype of the manipulating false-accuser or on the CIA payroll, doesn't mean that Assange is guilty of a crime. And, "just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you." Or to rephrase, just because the US government is after you, don't mean you're not paranoid.

the BDS debate

2010-10-28T17:30:00.000-07:00

Latest issue of Zeek has two perspectives on the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement for justice in Israel/Palestine. One article is from Jewish Voice for Peace and one is from the New Israel Fund. Both are organizations that I support. I find myself nodding my head affirmatively to both arguments. Oh dear.

It's definitely a tough issue. But it comes down to what is likely to achieve results. I'm not sold on blanket Israel boycott, but I do like the targeted boycott of companies directly supporting or profiting from the occupation. A blanket boycott might be legitimate, I'm just not sure it's the best thing to embrace given my personal answers to some strategic questions.

How broad a set of allies do we need/want? Who are we trying to convince? Where does our real power lie as Americans? As American Jews? What is likely to actually influence the Israeli government? What are the long term and short term goals for Israeli and Palestinian society and national aspirations?

More than one approach in concert is not always a bad idea either. So take this all as food for thought. (And here's some food for boycott. Or not.)

the perpetuation of violence

2010-10-10T19:38:00.000-07:00

Turns out that both sides retaliate, and see themselves as retaliating to the other side's aggression. This from a quantitative analysis of the probability of the timing of Israeli and Palestinian attacks during the second intifada. It's in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (behind a pay wall, sadly).

From the conclusion:

The implication of our findings is that both sides are at least to some extent correct when they claim that their aggression occurs in response to previous aggression from the respective other party. To the extent that both sides see themselves in a purely retaliatory role, our data suggest that in doing so they may underappreciate the extent to which the violence of the other side is contingent on their own. An increased awareness of this bias may lead both sides to better understand their own role in perpetuating the conflict, and thus contribute to its resolution.

An optimistic wish. If only we knew how others saw things, maybe we'd behave differently. But let no one deny that violence is a vicious cycle. I think that people often retaliate out of pure vengeance and fear, not only because they think it serves their political aims or because they believe that they will be seen to be justified.

Anyway, this should provide a helpful talking point for those of us promoting dialogue.

Hat tip to Angie for pointing out this article!

Mitchell Plitnick talks sense, as usual

2010-10-08T23:07:00.000-07:00

I've been reading this fellow for a while, starting when he blogged for Jewish Voice for Peace a few years back. And if Mitchell Plitnick is giving up on the two state solution, that is not a good sign for the two state solution. Of course, he doesn't say it quite that way. But it's strongly implied. Because he is giving up on Obama:

Followers of my work are aware that, for the past 20-plus months, I have been either hopeful or trying to maintain hope in the Obama Administration’s efforts toward a t[wo]-state solution. No doubt, it has been getting progressively tougher, and many colleagues who were once with me in this endeavor have jumped ship long since.

Make room on the lifeboat, because I’m jumping in.

At the same time as he reminds us that

...many have said (myself included) that this latest round is the last chance for a two-state solution...

So, what then JStreet? Mitchell is still optimistic that an effective "counter [to AIPAC] is being built," but that it must be realistic enough to give up on Obama too if we are to get anywhere. So, now the only practical thing to do is focus on human and civil rights for every Israeli and Palestinian. Which, of course, is the moral thing to do as well.

So does JStreet continue to frame its mission as a Zionist one, to preserve a Jewish and democratic state, as could only be accomplished with a two-state solution? Even if that is no longer feasible? Is that necessary to continue building broad political support? Can JStreet retain that framework while simply shifting more emphasis onto the democratic half of that equation, rather than Jewish identity?

Reassuringly, JStreet came out with a strong statement against the proposed loyalty oath legislation for Israeli citizens, who would have to accept Israel as a Jewish state. And they did so, while trying to hold onto ownership of what it means to be Zionist, calling the bill anti-Zionist because it goes against the principles in Israel's declaration of independence of equality for all citizens.

But how Israel can be a state of all its citizens and also be an explicitly Jewish state has always been an internal tension. Preferring not to address this tension is part of why Israel has never adopted a constitutional framework for its democracy. This bill would enshrine in law the de facto discrimination that we already know about.

We can come together against such erosion of Israeli democracy. It's actually, I think, a much easier sell for an American Jewish community which largely bases its affinity for Israel around this sense of shared democratic values. I think a principled stand can be taken whether one continues to identify with a more progressive version of Zionism, or whether one has rejected Jewish nationalism. So, as I've been saying, the unifying power of the human and civil rights framework in the Jewish community is another reason to adopt it, in addition to its national political expedience and moral consistency.

dialogue manifesto

2010-10-02T17:35:00.000-07:00

It's the form, and not the substance of the discussion which gets to me sometimes - which makes me want to scream out in frustration, to punch things, or to close my eyes and close it all out. The way in which something is said makes all the difference as to whether it is heard. One thing that dialogue does is make us conscious of the sensitivities of others, so that we can adapt the way that we say things to be more effective in actually communicating.

I am talking about real dialogue. Not debate. Just speaking and listening, on the premise that other perspectives exist that you may not agree with but which are nonetheless legitimate. In that process you don't need to adjust how you say anything. You speak your experience. You listen and learn and go back out into the world more aware of how to speak effectively. A radical notion. A slow process.

I saw a play last night, which was very moving. You should see it if you have the chance. There is a Field is a project of Jen Marlowe to honor a friend from Seeds of Peace who was killed by Israeli authorities at a peaceful demonstration. The words are taken from actual people. It is chilling and depressing and real.

If I had left right afterward, however, I would have come away with a very different set of thoughts running through my head than I did after staying for the discussion. My interpretation of the play became influenced by that of others. And I then heard the message that dialogue is not worthwhile.

Why dialogue?

Dialogue is one of the few things that gives me hope. I believe it can be personally transformative. It is a painful irony, of course, that a young Palestinian should be murdered by Israeli police while wearing his Seeds of Peace t-shirt. Frustrating that Jewish Israelis could participate in that dialogue program, and still go back to serve in an army overseeing the military occupation of another people. Perhaps for those Israelis and Palestinians there is little point in dialogue in the absence of justice. I'd say that's it's still worthwhile to attempt it for its own sake, but I'd prioritize ending the occupation first.

What about for us? We don't have to live with that shit on a daily basis. We are privileged and free: free to live our lives, free to see ourselves as citizens of the world if we so choose, free of the constraints of narrow loyalties, in a diverse society that regularly challenges us to interact with people who are different, to face up to historic inequity, free because we have grown up doing it and it doesn't prove to be impossible. We liberal, secular Americans have more freedom available to us than anyone at all living in Israel/Palestine.

But freedom is not something automatic. Most of us do not embrace it to the full available extent. We harbor loyalties that cloud our thinking. But at least we are free from outside threats to our daily livelihoods. While we live in a broader society that is divided along many lines, Israeli vs Palestinian is not one of them. And so we are more free to dialogue on the subject, and to make ourselves yet more free by freeing our minds.

What is the purpose of this exercise? To understand the Other, to widen one's view of the world is worthwhile. But for me, justice is the ultimate goal. One hopes that as dialogue participants are liberated from their preconceptions that they recognize injustice around them and become motivated to change it. If you see your opponents as humans, that is more likely to happen.

Suddenly it is not about Israel/Palestine. This is a universal story and only by seeing it that way do I find the perspective to keep going. There is nothing special about this conflict. It is the same shit that gets in the way of freedom and human rights the world over.

Beyond Dialogue

The acknowledgment of this context has become important to me. It is part of why I am troubled sometimes by the way in which things are said. It is perfectly legitimate for someone to speak her personal experience without recognizing the universal context. It is an important part of the process. But it is less useful outside of a dialogue setting, back in the real world of advocacy.

Power privileges certain voices, and sometimes activists privilege others to compensate. We become just as personally enmeshed in the struggle as those who are forced to live it. It can make one feel authentic, but it is not as effective. We should recognize our power, and rather than become uncomfortable and pretend to cede it, we should use it responsibly.

I am more convinced than ever that a solution must be imposed from the outside, and we American Jews can play an important role in making that possible. Dialogue is good for its own sake, it may or may not help to open up some members of our community to change, but it can help us learn to be more effective when we go back out into the world of advocacy. We need to be in it for the personal enrichment it can provide, and keep the world of activism separate.

Dialogue as Process(ing)

Everyone has a viewpoint. Everyone has an agenda, and secretly hopes that they will convince others to share it. When we start out, we argue about who has the moral authority without even agreeing on the facts.

Say, for example, that someone is killed at a demonstration. Someone is at fault. The Jews blame the Arabs and the Arabs blame the Jews. You believe whoever it is that you are accustomed to believing, and are unlikely to conclude the opposite in any particular case.

But in a particular case, perhaps you can be convinced that the other side was not at fault either. They were doing nothing wrong. A tragic error occurred. It is painful to accept such a level of complexity, but not as painful as it would be to accept that the the actions of the group with which you identify are consistent with a system of injustice. If it is an exception, a singular failure of an otherwise moral and praiseworthy enterprise, that is at least a start. One must move from blaming the Other to blaming no one before becoming capable of acknowledging blame where one is not accustomed to acknowledging blame.

This is an example of how the process can be transformative in the best case. There is a danger, however, in avoiding the appearance of being political, that we get stuck in the phase of blaming no one. How sad, we say, that so many people the world over are fighting for no good reason! Misunderstanding, nothing more.

This framework ignores the imbalance of power and real material conditions specific to each situation. It ignores the legitimate grievances. It sometimes leads to the blaming of abstract concepts like religion and nationalism. While religion and nationalism can create institutions to which we cede personal freedom, they can also coexist with justice. In fact, they must be made to do so, as long as we are not living in an anarchist utopia. Acknowledging the real world means acknowledging and apportioning blame where it is due. Genuinely listening, and then afterward not being afraid to actually take a position.

For me, dialogue is a process that is worthwhile even if I don't recruit others to my political point of view. It is a classic liberal conceit to think that if they would only open their minds and learn what I know, surely they would all agree with me. But those who continue to disagree may at least tone down the alienating, hurtful discourse that pervades this issue. Simply acknowledging the legitimacy of other viewpoints is a worthwhile starting point.

Note: this post reflects my evolving viewpoints and was heavily edited Tue 10/12/10.

Sen. Patty Murray's fundraising: more lobbyists overall, less Israel

2010-07-05T23:47:00.000-07:00

An article in the Seattle Times discusses how Sen. Patty Murray's sources of campaign funding have changed over the years. The emphasis is on how the former underdog Bothell mom is now a solid incumbent who gets most of her money from lobbyists. The opening blurb of the article is the only time that "pro-Israel" PACs get mentioned:

In the years after Patty Murray first won her U.S. Senate seat in 1992, she received some of her biggest political contributions from women's groups and PACs supporting Israel. Today, in a transformation that attests to the power of incumbency, lobbyists top the list of Murray's donor groups.

First of all, aren't women's groups and "PACs supporting Israel" lobbyists too? In any case, it's clear that she used to depend more on Israel-related PACs relative to other sources. But, as the figure indicates, that source no longer makes the top ten.

So, if the Senator is so awash in money from other sources, maybe there really is an opening for JStreet to swing her over to the "Pro-Israel, Pro-Peace" camp? On the other hand, if she doesn't need the money that JStreetPAC can offer, they'll have to work on giving her a reason to actually care about their issue.

framing Jewish diaspora in Latin America

2010-07-03T00:58:00.000-07:00

Today I caught an article in Zeek, a journal that I generally enjoy, which makes an interesting claim: "Anti-Semitism is on the rise in the Hispanic world."

The fear-mongers talk a lot about anti-Semitism in the Arab world and in Europe, but Latin America doesn't get as much attention. The argument seems to be based around some Hugo Chavez quotes and an Argentine anti-Semite he was associated with, around whom the article is centered. The reason we should be concerned about our neighbors to the South?

Anti-Semitism is on the rise in the Hispanic world. At its heart is Chávez’s anti-Zionism, which, of course, isn’t new. Nor is the Venezuelan president’s ire directly [sic] only at the Israeli state. His anti-Zionism is just one manifestation of his anti-Semitism.

But the anti-Zionism as anti-Semitism claim seems to be complicated by the opening quote:

“I can’t conceive of a single Jew in this country who would support Israel’s repressive policies,” Venezuela’s Hugo Chávez announced in Caracas in early June in an incendiary speech about the Turkish “Free Gaza” flotilla incident.

To me, this Chavez quote can be read as a bizarre defense of the Jewish community: it suggests that Venezuela's Jews at least should not be blamed for the excesses of the Israeli government. It seems, however, that on other occasions Chavez has made actual anti-Semitic comments. This should be discussed. But we do not need to conflate anti-Israel rhetoric with defamation or threats against individuals or communities due solely to their Jewish affiliation.

As I already knew, anti-Semitism exists in Latin America. The article reminds us about a couple of high-profile attacks in the '90s on Jewish institutions in Argentina, and the increased visibility of ex-Nazi's who found refuge there. Venezuela's Jewish population has also apparently declined voluntarily since Chavez has been in power.

But am I convinced that anti-Semitism is on the rise in Latin America? No. This kind of framing is designed to make us all feel less secure, and support Israel out of self-interest in case we ever need somewhere to run to. It definitely detracted from my appreciation of this article.

What I am interested in understanding is the reality of day-to-day life in the Jewish diaspora. It helps to live in a country with lots of different minorities, and with a strain in the culture that values diversity. The more homogeneous a society, the more difficult it is to be a member of any minority group.

There are plenty of Jews, even here, who do not feel secure. But there are plenty, especially those in my generation who grew up in cities with sizable Jewish populations, who feel quite secure. To us the idea that Jews are a discriminated-against minority can seem out-dated and paranoid. Of course there are crazy people out there, but their views are not reflected in the mainstream. Even if you still hate the Jews, it is no longer okay to say so.

Before it stopped being okay to openly express Jew-hatred, my dad remembers being defended by a friend who said, "my best friend is a white Jew!" This reflects the experience of "becoming white" that a number of immigrant groups have experienced in America. So I know that the level of integration of minorities depends on the time and place.

When I was studying in Chile a friend of a friend approached me at a party and out of nowhere asked me if I was Jewish. He could tell because of my name, which to others was distinguishing only by being unusual and foreign. He seemed excited to make the connection.

Later I accidentally outed him to his friends. I had no idea that they didn't know that he was Jewish. The poor guy had enough to worry about. His parents were disappeared by Pinochet. The kids on the political left were his natural allies. Why create extra reasons to explain yourself?

I had become accustomed to explaining myself. As an American, I took every opportunity to mention that I did not like George Bush or his policies. And so I explained, as a Jew, that I did not agree with the policies of the Israeli government. Should I have had to explain myself in either case? Ideally, no. But I was happy to contribute to a more nuanced inter-cultural understanding… and earn a less skeptical reception.

My new Jewish acquaintance, however, did not share my views on Israel and Zionism. It is my impression that his Communist friends dumped him. On a later occasion he told me about all the places in the world that he wanted to see, concluding that Israel was where he'd like to end up. Why? I asked, feigning naivete. Because I am a Jew, he replied.

This is the Zionism of those who feel not entirely validated in their native national identity. This is the Zionism of those who take "next year in Jerusalem" seriously - as a spiritual yearning to return home, to belong completely. This is a very real strain in our tradition, totally apart from political Zionism: the desire to live in the land of the Torah, which happens to be possible because of the modern Israeli state. This is also the Zionism that is promoted in organized Jewish communities, even in far-flung parts of the world.

I attended a Yom Kippur service that was held discretely at a local civic club. There was no sign outside, no advertisement besides word of mouth. My acquaintance and his sibling were the only other youth, besides some teenagers imported from the big city to help, as a service to their less fortunate brethren in the provinces. At a table by the door was the usual Israel propaganda: the only alternative presented to such an isolated existence. No wonder it looked appealing!

This is all that I have observed on my own of the Jewish experience in one part of Latin America. I personally had no problems. One friend, who knew I was Jewish, still seemed surprised that I never attended mass, not even sometimes. The Palestinian-Chilean who boarded downstairs gave me a hug when I said that I didn't agree with the policies of the Israeli government (by now my standard line). I didn't have to condemn Zionism or anything. I encountered ignorance, confusion, but not hostility.

But I was a privileged foreigner. The sense of isolation of the local Jews was real. I want to understand the struggles of Jews whose lives are different from my own, in their own contexts. I want to discuss the Jewish experience in Latin America without fear-mongering, and without glossing over real problems. I want to complicate my understanding of Jewish diaspora instead of essentializing it.

preaching to the converted

2010-06-26T23:56:00.000-07:00

Each time that I've attended a public lecture in Seattle meant to raise awareness about the situation in the Palestinian occupied territories I've been amazed at how many people turn out. Not even primarily young people or college students: lots of older folks are hungry for this information. Many of the worst question askers are also drawn from the retired set. I'm talking about those who preface questions with five minute anecdotes and/or are primarily looking for validation of their own existing views.

So it was the other night at St. Mark's Cathedral when some local activists gathered to talk about Gaza. I was primarily interested in hearing from the speaker who was actually on board one of ships of the recent flotilla that tried to break the blockade. The organizer of the event, a well-known Israel/Palestine blogger who I just learned is from the area, was speaking when I arrived late.

The event was supposed to have started at 7pm and it went until 10:30 or so. On a Friday night. This scheduling may help explain the predominance of the grey-haired crowd.

There was another impact of the scheduling, of course. I and the other self-identified Jews, including the organizer, were clearly not religiously observant. People such as my parents, who drive and use electricity on the sabbath and don't always go to services would also not have attended as a matter of principle. It's just insensitive to exclude people who are shomer shabbos, particularly from an event of particular interest to many in the Jewish community.

Swallowing that bit of discomfort, I listened to the speakers, claiming that they wanted to describe the situation and stay away from politics: a futile task. Most of the questions of course were about politics, rather than the humanitarian situation or the speakers' personal experiences. Isn't there ethnic cleansing going on? Didn't the Israelis fire [on that other ship that no one here was on] before they even boarded? Isn't the idea of a Jewish state racist? Do you support one state or two?

The non-Palestinians answered that last question very carefully. That is, they declined to answer, echoing more or less the official position of Jewish Voice for Peace (JVP): it's not up to us anyway, it's a divisive question and a distraction from the immediacy of changing an unjust situation.

It's interesting to watch individuals and organizations straddle divisive issues. Many activists tend to be to the left of the organizations they support. For example, one speaker called for the audience to support JStreet and JVP in the same breath, despite the clear differences between the two groups. Anything challenging the status quo and moving in the right direction is welcomed.

Likewise many local JVP supporters seem to be on board with the all-encompassing BDS movement. The national JVP organization, however, continues to actively promote only selective boycott and divestment from companies that directly profit from the occupation, without condemning larger boycott efforts. (I heard several people repeat the idea that "it worked for South Africa," as a justification, which really contains a number of contestable assumptions, but never-mind that for now.)

It's good to see a lot of local people engaged with an issue that I care about. Now, how to broaden the conversation beyond preaching to the converted?

local hate crimes

2010-06-25T18:20:00.000-07:00

Two items within a couple of days in the Puget Sound region. A menorah outside a Chabad Jewish center in Olympia was knocked over and spray-painted with "Die Jew". Then a few days later a van decorated with mention of Islam parked outside the Islamic Center of Eastside in Bellevue was smeared with feces.

The Olympian reports that local members of the Jewish community called the vandalism at the Chabad center a hate crime, and speculates that if a suspect were apprehended that they could be charged under the state's malicious harassment statute, which is meant to prosecute hate crimes.

The Seattle Times reports that the local chapter of CAIR was calling the Bellevue episode a hate crime. But police in Bellevue quickly labeled the incident outside the mosque as malicious mischief and closed the investigation.

Apparently the FBI says the Bellevue incident was unlikely to warrant federal criminal prosecution. But what about the state-level statute mentioned in the Olympia case? True, the incidents are not exactly the same, and probably no suspect will ever be caught in either case, but doesn't it deserve consideration?

retraction?

2010-04-14T14:48:00.000-07:00

Not shocking that JStreet doesn't support divestment from Israel. Disappointing that they sign onto a letter with the kind of language that I wanted to think they were above. Language like this:

We are deeply troubled, however, to learn that the ASUC Student Senate has passed a dishonest bill, based on misleading and contested allegations, that unfairly targets the State of Israel while also marginalizing Jewish students on campus who support Israel.

As, Sydney Levy and Yaman Salahi point out,

Most perniciously, they refer to the bill as "marginalizing Jewish students on campus who support Israel." The fact that they mention only Jewish students and not other students who might hold similar political positions reveals the true meaning of this statement: This is an intellectually dishonest and misleading accusation of anti-Semitism that cannot be taken lightly. The bill does not target any students: it only targets corporations that facilitate occupation.

On the JStreet blog for April 13th, however, the language is slightly different:

Finally, we are deeply concerned with the atmosphere on campuses around this potentially divisive issue. This bill fails to endorse Israel’s legitimacy and right to exist as a Jewish, democratic home and endorses at least part of the agenda of the BDS Movement, which is overtly hostile to Israel itself. For these reasons, we believe this bill may produce an atmosphere in which Jewish or pro-Israel students may feel singled-out or marginalized.

In their own language JStreet refers more broadly to "Jewish or pro-Israel students". The implicit accusation of anti-Semitism is less strong, but the conflation of Jewish and pro-Israel, and narrow definition of what "pro-Israel" means, are problems as well, especially from a group that is trying to define "pro-Israel" more broadly. It would be much more respectable to leave out the part of the complaint about marginalization on campus altogether. There may be legitimate differences of opinion over divestment, but we don't need any more groups that make a habit of maligning those with alternate views.

it's all connected

2010-04-14T08:47:00.000-07:00

Mediterranean countries are prevented from addressing freshwater availability concerns because of the politics of the occupation, specifically, whether the Palestinian territories should be referred to as "occupied territories" or "territories under occupation". Seriously.
More evidence of how the occupation ruins everything? Or a warning of the conflicts over water that we can expect more of in the future? Environmental challenges remind us that borders are arbitrary and our futures are interdependent, whether we choose to accept it or not.

the real battle

2010-03-18T22:19:00.000-07:00

Last month was the official launch of JStreet local, the new grassroots arm of JStreet. Really most of these locals are rebranded Brit Tzedek v'Shalom chapters, which were absorbed into JStreet. The Seattle launch was in a gentrifying area called Columbia City in the Southern part of town, in a pretty cool community space, with a band, refreshments, and a giant cake. I estimated about 50 attended, and in a follow-up email, they estimated almost twice as many, also emphasizing the diversity of the turnout.

While they seem to have attracted a few random new people, it was mostly an older crowd, which is pretty consistent with the Brit Tzedek demographic. There was a technology malfunction with the live streaming of Jeremy Ben-Ami's motivational welcome message. As they sorted it out, the tension was broken with a reminder that they are looking for more computer-savvy folks to volunteer.

In contrast, there were quite a few younger people at the first national JStreet convention in D.C. last fall. There was a non-scientific sampling of opinion that suggested the younger folks were more likely to hold views to the left of JStreet. At least we were made to feel welcome anyway. But when it comes to the "grassroots" of a big top-down organization, it's harder to get excited. Ooh boy, that sounds moderate! Sign me up!

Still, there are a lot of people really excited about JStreet. These are older people with a lot of years of experience not being "out" in their communities with their political views, but being in those communities nonetheless. They have valuable insights. But while it's good to have people willing to fight those battles, not everyone is willing to do so.

It requires a certain willingness to compromise, at least by framing the issues in a way that is more palatable to the average, poorly-informed, fearful, Israel supporter. But the message underneath is still plenty radical. It's easy to forget that only recently has it become acceptable in many of our communities to acknowledge the existence of an occupation, or insinuate that Palestinians may have a legitimate interest in a state of their own.

Others are too frustrated to work within the mainstream Jewish community. They do not hesitate to state their outrage in more radical terms, based on conscience and without concern for who they alienate. They may no longer be willing to promote a two-state solution, although only recently has the mainstream begun to accept it. Despite this, we are all working towards the same goals.

Jeremy Ben-Ami statement in an email entitled "The choice we face", illustrates the issue well.

More than ever, it’s clear to me that we’re not fighting simply over Israeli or American foreign policy. We’re in a larger and more significant battle over who we are as a people in this new century and how our people are defined collectively for ourselves and for others by the behavior of the country that serves as our national expression.

One crucial distinction here is that Ben-Ami believes that the Jewish people need to have a country to serve as our national expression. There are others who disagree. But in the battle over who we are as a people they are on the same side. Both maintain that it is not okay to talk about Israel while ignoring the conflict. All are motivated by the moral imperative to speak up against injustice, and not to see injustice done in our names.

One thing is clear to me about JStreet local. These may be people that can get excited about a moderate-sounding message, they may be firm promoters of two-states, but they will never call one of the younger one-state idealists an anti-Semite. They would never accuse another Jew of being "self-hating" because of their politics, because they have been accused of it themselves. They are pragmatists with principles.

One valuable insight I heard at the launch of JStreet Seattle: many of these battles in the national discourse are not our battles locally in Seattle. We don't need to be distracted by divisions imported from New York and California. This makes sense to me. National organizations are useful, but in my own Jewish communities that are not based around politics, I don't want to be hampered by towing anyone's line.

I think I can be most effective, and most subversive, by an individual personal appeal based on shared values: justice and concern for human rights. Those conversations at the local level redefine what "moderate" is. They work in parallel with varied national and international efforts to draw attention to the issue and mobilize for change.

communicating the uncertainty

2010-01-29T23:16:00.000-08:00

All of the Himalayan glaciers are most likely not going to disappear by 2035.

They are, however, disappearing in most places. I, like many others, am concerned about the impact of retreating glaciers on freshwater resources. So over the summer I went looking for information in the Asia chapter of the Working Group 2 (impacts) section of the latest IPCC report. I discussed the plausibility of the 2035 prediction with scientists who expressed considerable doubt that it could possibly have arisen from a rigorous calculation. We noted that the citation came from a World Wildlife Fund report, which itself cited another source for the information. That source proved impossible to find on the internet, and so I gave up. It seemed clear enough that the 2035 prediction should be viewed with great skepticism. We set about discussing what would be required to actually estimate a time-scale for glacier disappearance, and it proves very difficult.

It should be obvious that as it gets warmer glaciers will melt. This will become a problem. But the issue is how much ice mass they lose and how soon. Even if we trust temperature predictions (a reasonable thing to do) and precipitation predictions (much less certain), the impact on alpine glaciers is not immediately apparent.

Climate models concern themselves with large-scale processes. The grid boxes do not resolve mountain topography on the scale of an individual alpine glacier. It's clear from looking at the peer-reviewed literature that no one has done a comprehensive and detailed study for the Himalayas as a whole. Some few individual glaciers have been carefully monitored, and studies of the hydrology of a few individual catchments can lead to good predictions for one glacier at a time. But summarizing the outlook for the overall ice cover of the "third pole" would be tricky.

Any endeavor ought to make some use of energy balance models, and not simply extrapolate melting into the future with a linear trend. Temperature effects the amount of melting, but humidity effects the amount of sublimation (ice -> vapor), which can also be important. This would make an ambitious dissertation project, the greatest hope for which would be to simply put some better constraints on the timeframe.

This may not actually be what I pursue for my research. But by explaining all this uncertainty I hope to correct by example one of the big problems with scientists' communication with everybody else. It may be obvious to us that science is a process, and what statements can reasonably be assumed to be more uncertain. But we don't emphasize it. Cliff Mass mentioned this today during his remarks at UW Atmospheric Science colloquium. And it's also an issue that's appeared in my interactions with policy and law students.

Some of those more policy-minded folks have trouble assimilating that there can be great uncertainty about a lot of details, even including the amount and timeframe of warming, even as the physical mechanism of greenhouse gas warming is well established. Some of them think that scientists are supposed to be able to produce complete certainty, when that is of course never possible. The well-meaning ones publicly overstate our case, and we don't usually correct them lest we give comfort to the enemy (global warming deniers).

The fact is that we don't need fancy models to make the case for anthropogenic climate change. We use them to try to refine the details, but much simpler calculations can produce results about the effect of CO2 within the error defined by the spread in predictions from different models. We keep working on the models because we would like to reduce uncertainty and to understand it all a little better, but evidence that we need to be worried about emissions is not buttressed by the latest models. We've known it for decades. Some over-reaching on glacier-melt predictions doesn't change that.

disentangling Christian practice and mainstream culture

2010-01-16T00:25:00.000-08:00

Not as easy as you'd think. Christmas is a case in point. I always encounter non-Christians who maintain that Christmas is not really a Christian holiday. It's just a secular, American holiday. Since the way it's practiced is often more about materialism and/or universalized values than religion, you can sort of understand where they get this idea.

I imagine that practicing Christians take issue with the view that Christmas is not a Christian holiday. Although it's true that Christmas in America is materialistic, that's not what it's supposed to be about. Actual Christians believe it's the birthday of their savior. It's a big deal to them, and it's very much a religious holiday.

For me, wanting to draw a line about Christmas is one way of respecting that. I wish Christians a merry Christmas, but it's their holiday, not mine.

Some people grew up with a cultural Christmas, light on the religion. Their parents may have constructed this on purpose because they were no longer interested in religion but didn't want to give up the traditions of their childhoods. Or perhaps they came from an interfaith family, trying to honor each parent's traditions. Or it came from neither parent's traditions, but they instituted the trappings of Christmas out of a desire to assimilate or remove social stigma from their children.

Understandably, once you've grown up with a cultural Christmas, it becomes a part of your personal traditions, traditions you might be sad to give up over esoteric arguments about the contradiction of celebrating the birth of a savior you don't believe in. And so you argue, Christmas isn't really about Christianity anyway: I can enjoy it if I want to.

I wholeheartedly support the right of anyone to embody any combination of religious belief and practice that they feel like. I believe in freedom of religion, and the last thing I want to do is be the defender of the purity of another religion. I don't care if non-Christians celebrate Christmas. I care when they insist that doing so should be normative, implying that there is something wrong with rejecting the secular Christmas. I simply wish to affirm my own identities, perhaps with my own contradictions.

My view is of course informed by my own upbringing. It was clear to me growing up that Christmas was not for me. There is no time of year when distinctions were more clearly drawn. Christmas trees, Christmas lights, and Santa, just as much as the more overtly religious Christmas carols, nativity scenes and midnight mass were all a part of this celebration that was not mine. To see something treated as normative in mainstream culture, and to know that it doesn't apply to you is certainly a part of the minority experience.

Avoiding Christmas taught me some important lessons. Just because everyone else is doing it, doesn't mean you should. Different traditions are valuable, including those of other religious minorities. (This is why token Hanukkah references at Christmas-time have never felt right to me. What if I came from some other tradition altogether?) To have this Outsider experience breeds empathy for people who don't conform in other ways. It made it easier to see the failings of mainstream culture manifested in the absurd frenzy. And it made it easier to appreciate the beautiful parts of it all, in a respectful Outsider kind of way.

Celebrating Christmas, some way or another, is normative in America. Most people do it, so it's understandable. As a kid you can feel a little bit resentful, but I don't feel that way anymore. At the same time, that doesn't mean that Christmas is for me. It's still not mine. And that should also be understandable. By pointing out the contradictions of non-Christians celebrating Christmas, I have been accused of trying to draw lines that divide people unnecessarily.

To that I say, just because you may have experienced a secular version of Christmas does not mean that everyone should. If you are appropriating Christian practice, I say go ahead, but acknowledge that is what it is. Although it pervades mainstream culture, it is distinct from other truly secular aspects of American identity. I acknowledge that there are those for whom disentangling the two is not obvious. (If the only implications were for December holidays it wouldn't matter all that much.)

Drawing lines of distinctions between groups of people is a thorny business. We don't want to draw lines that keep people out, but sometimes we draw lines to keep ourselves in. Everyone wants to belong, but there also exist real differences. And drawing lines may not seem to be in the spirit of Christmas, wherein everyone tries to get along. But everyone getting along and everyone being the same are not equivalent. Striving to respectfully acknowledge difference, without all trying to be the same, is a good secular American value.

the essential Outsider

2009-12-26T21:44:00.000-08:00

Went to a "tish" a couple weeks ago at the inspiring Ravenna Kibbutz. People sitting around a table with drinks, singing, and occasionally rising to dance around the table in a circle. English, Hebrew, Yiddish, no words at all. There was even Russian at one point.

The song with the Russian repeated each verse in four different languages. I could recognize which was Hebrew. Even if I don't know what it means, I've heard it spoken enough to know it when I hear it. But I spent most of the time staring at the song sheet and listening intently to try to guess which of the other verses was the Yiddish and which was the Russian. Which definitely made me feel a bit like the Outsider.

With all of my Jewish education I've never really heard much Yiddish spoken, aside from a word inserted into an English conversation here and there. I am just as ignorant about it as Russian or Polish, Czech, or Bulgarian. And that is sad.

I'm now the second generation of my family to be sad about not knowing Yiddish. My grandmother spoke Yiddish, but she didn't teach it to my dad or his brother. She wanted them to be American, and she thought that was mutually exclusive with maintaining the language of another culture. On her deathbed, though, she spoke in Yiddish. No ones knows what she said.

In that experience of abandoning Yiddish my family is actually very typical of Jewish Americans. Not knowing Yiddish, feels a lot like not knowing much Hebrew or wishing I knew more about Jewish history and practices. In other words, it fits into my experience of what it is to be Jewish, where there's always more that you could learn, and it's only natural and good that it be so.

On balance, the Yiddish at the tish in Seattle made me feel much less like an outsider than the last tish I went to. That one took place ten years ago in Mea Shearim, a Haredi neighborhood in Jerusalem.

This was perhaps the most profound inter-cultural experience of the entire youth trip that summer. To go to Mea Shearim we supposedly donned our long skirts out of respect, but there was a clear undercurrent of compulsion as well. The young men and women couldn't even walk together down the street there. The boys went ahead, walking in a group, and we followed half a block behind. This did not bode well for the evening in my mind.

When we arrived, the girls were funneled into a side alley, past the garbage cans and up the rickety stairs to our own separate entrance. We were not just on a balcony looking down. We were on a balcony where we could only look down if we pressed our faces up to a grated screen that kept the men below from being distracted by our presence. I could see the boys from our trip standing down there along one side looking very tense and uncomfortable.

I did not endeavor to participate in the wordless-chanting and swaying either. Upstairs, women sat around amiably enjoying the atmosphere. I made friends with another girl who was similarly willing to express disgust with the whole situation. Who are these women, we wondered. Unexpectedly, one of them answered us in perfect English. She was from Brooklyn.

The appropriation of a Chasidic custom by a bunch of co-ed liberal Seattle Jews led by women, did not strike me as out of place. The liberal movements many of us post-denominational participants grew up with did their share of picking and choosing in creating their own modern traditions. This is what Jews have always done.

Why were we invited to the tish and not some other Jewish communal activity? Wikipedia informs me that a tish can be open to the public. Since I'm sure they wouldn't even have considered all of us to be Jewish (one kid, for example, was a Reform convert), that could be part of the explanation. But why would we be invited to anything at all? I imagine they thought it would be good for us to see some "real" Jews in the midst of our otherwise secular materialistic experience of Israel.

At my bat-mitzvah, my dad's family couldn't stop mentioning how totally blown away (but proud!) my great-grandmother namesake would have been to see it. She was not Chasidic and probably never attended a tish. She did speak Yiddish, and probably Latvian when she arrived in North America. She was more religiously observant than I, but she was also liberal without that being a contradiction. Coming directly from an Eastern European backwater, the Reform movement and the entrenching of orthodoxy against it would have been equally foreign to her. She was just Jewish.

Jews in Montana

2009-12-08T22:50:00.000-08:00

Near the beginning of this feel-good story about modern-day Jews in Montana, there is mention of the existence of a more-sizable Jewish community in the past:

Though there are few Jews in Montana today, there once were many. In the late 19th century, there were thriving Jewish populations in the mining towns, where Jews emigrated to work as butchers, clothiers, jewelers, tailors and the like.

The city of Butte had kosher markets, a Jewish mayor, a B’nai B’rith lodge and three synagogues. Helena, the capital city, had Temple Emanu-El, built in 1891 with a seating capacity of 500. The elegant original facade still stands, but the building was sold and converted to offices in the 1930s, when the congregation had dwindled to almost nothing, the Jewish population having mostly assimilated or moved on to bigger cities.

There is a Jewish cemetery in Helena, too, with tombstones dating to 1866. But more Jews are buried in Helena than currently live here.

This caught my attention because my dad has a picture at home of my great-grandfather sitting on a horse-drawn buggy, supposedly in Montana. He went out West, and then returned to Chicago to his family. My dad heard stories about it growing up.

But what he didn't hear until much later was that his grandfather had gone out there with a brother. The brother didn't return and was never mentioned. My dad speculates that he was one of those who "assimilated" and that is why he was never spoken of. But I wonder about that cemetary... if I went there would I see the last name of that branch of the family?

In my mother's family, a generation more recently there is a brother who went West and was never spoken of again. This was an older brother of her father. In this case the story is less shrouded in mystery. My zayde, who never went to college, worked to help put him through Harvard. He was the one that the whole family really invested in. Then he moved to California, married a non-Jew, and was disowned.

So it seems we don't have a great history with going West in my family. Luckily I think we've progressed from the days of disowning to mild, grumbled disapproval.

HT to Matthue Roth at MJL for mentioning the article.

the disconnect over scientific practice

2009-12-01T23:30:00.000-08:00

It seems that this business about the hacked emails from the University of East Anglia Climate Research Unit (CRU) just won't go away. I foolishly imagined that people would have better things to do than indulge the climate change contrarians trying to use the emails to discredit climate science.

Now rather than see their institutions discredited, however unreasonably, it seems that certain prominent email authors will accept the brunt of the fallout. News is that Phil Jones, head of CRU is stepping aside while an investigation is conducted, and that Penn State will investigate the work of scientist Michael Mann.

These developments have no doubt been fed by the great number of people who, while defending anthropogenic climate change, insist upon seeing the content of stolen emails and other files as a great scandal. Cases of poor word-choice, and out of context on-the-fly comments aside, the only real ethical offense seems to be the suggestion from Phil Jones to delete emails not meant for public consumption. The paranoia in that request is ironically justified by the way that private correspondence has been used against him.

I think that greater openness and reform in certain areas of science is worthy of discussion. But this case is hardly a smoking gun for great underlying problems. In many scientific fields data is seen as proprietary, not due to some conspiracy to hide information, but out of simple self-interest. A lot of work went into producing the data, and one research group is competing with another for publications, prestige, and funding. So the thinking goes, why would they give away the assets they have produced? Often in biology or chemistry researchers pursue patents and even make money off of their work.

In contrast, in the climate science community there exist a number of proprietary models guarded by certain institutions, but there are also enough people committed to an open source philosophy that there exists the entirely open source Community Climate System Model (CCSM). And, as pointed out, a great deal of data already is freely available. It is not as though a crucial piece of evidence that underlies the entire anthropogenic climate change argument is being withheld.

Failure to share all data should be understood in this context. Perhaps the whole system does need to be revolutionized. But in normative scientific practice, guarding databases does not imply misconduct.

Neither does sloppiness imply a conspiracy. Too much has been made of the log of a computer scientist's frustrations trying to make sense of a CRU database. As anyone who has ever actually dealt with computer programming will tell you it can be a nightmare to make sense of someone else's code or file-naming scheme. These types of inefficiencies build up as a legacy of many long-term projects as personnel and priorities shift along the way. It is not a scandal. It is the all-too familiar reality that real scientific work is slow-going, inefficient, and difficult.

The bottom line is that whether you see scandal in all of this may depend on how you imagine that science is undertaken.

If everyone had the experience of working with real data or some simple physical model just once in their science education, I suspect there would be a better appreciation of what is involved. Scientists make decisions about how to advance. The process of figuring things out is circuitous and may take a variety of forms. We ought to describe ourselves as practicing science they way people practice law or practice medicine. The way to proceed is never perfectly prescribed.

Scientists are human beings. So we should make some efforts to reform how we do things. But claiming that total transparency will silence the critics is politically naive. The climate change deniers who have jumped on these stolen CRU files to justify their existing beliefs will not be persuaded. We shouldn't join them in unfairly singling out some individuals. Furthermore, conceding the point about misconduct in this case to save the overarching science is unnecessary. And it misses an opportunity to clarify realistic expectations of science and scientists.

climate scientists and the press

2009-11-23T21:27:00.000-08:00

The silliness over some hacked emails from the Climate Research Unit (CRU) at the University of East Anglia has me thinking a lot about how we relate to the press. The folks at Real Climate have already sufficiently defended the authors of the emails (in some cases, themselves). Real Climate is actually a great example of an attempt to be more pro-active at influencing the public debate. But the underlying reason for it is the notion that there does not exist any other way to convey basic climate science ideas to the public. There is a clear sense that the press cannot be relied upon.

The press like to give equal attention to two sides of an issue, no matter that there may be more than two sides or that one side may be "right". So no matter that one side has the broad consensus of the scientific community and all of the peer-reviewed literature, and the other has some paranoid blogs. We ought to have a blog too, the thinking goes. And it surely is more accessible. If you write for Real Climate odds are that more people will read it than anything you ever publish in a scientific journal.

But blaming the press for the lack of good communication is only partly correct. Plenty of scientists report frustrating experiences of feeling that their ideas were mis-represented. And it may be that the reporter ought to have more of an understanding of basic science to be on that beat. But the scientists should also be more media savvy.

If you speak to a reporter stick to your message, know what the bottom line is, and if you write anything to them, write it like the article that you would dream of having them publish. If it seems that a long explanation of some concept is called for, refer them to a textbook or a journal article. If they are willing to do their job they will read about it themselves.

Responding to a reporter's email with the kind of language you'd dream of them publishing may sound an awful lot like writing a press release, because it is. Scientists who put out press releases about their discoveries tend to be looked down upon by their peers. Rather than an attempt to educate the public, it is viewed as nothing but self-serving. Seeking personal attention and fame seems vulgar when there is so much collaboration involved, and so many people who make meaningful contributions are never acknowledged.

Furthermore, press releases are seen as feeding an appetite in the press for cutting-edge excitement that is sometimes premature, and serves more to confuse than illuminate. When the public see contradictory press releases every few years, whether it concerns public health or global warming recommendations, they begin to doubt that the scientists know what they're talking about. They have difficulty distinguishing the fundamentals of climate science that are not at all in dispute, from the details that we argue over.

The climate change deniers love to focus in on the very existence of current debates to try to throw the whole thing into question. Hence, like historians, most scientists prefer not to comment on current events, lest they be proved wrong. Any idea that's stood the test of some time is a much safer bet for your public education campaign. Those who accept the urgency of a public policy issue that could be influenced by their research continue to struggle to find the most appropriate way to engage.

Writing an article for Real Climate, for example, feels relatively safe compared to becoming a political activist. It is horrifying to imagine that your objectivity might be called into question. But scientists are objective like journalists are; that is to say, they are not. Pretending that they are objective is an important part of the identity of both groups. It's not a given that it be that way, however, if you look at different times in history.

Today claims to objectivity are an important defense against the climate change deniers, but it is a false argument. Individual scientists don't need to be objective. That's why we have peer review. Usually we catch each others mistakes. Even when we don't, the literature that builds up over time tends to center-in on a consensus. So again, it's more definitive to look at the results that have already stood for a little while. And the basic mechanism of global warming due to anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions is one of those results.

In fact, arguing over the details of the current paradigm is how science advances. I think the CRU emails illustrate nicely how that scientific process is functioning (there is plenty of criticism of other scientists and their papers), while the process of communication is failing (there is plenty of criticism of the media), and producing a sense of embattlement and insularity.

evangelizing with Darwin

2009-11-18T22:55:00.000-08:00

Today, walking across the UW campus, I was handed a free copy of The Origin of Species. How strange, I thought. They are handing them out like bibles. It seemed in poor taste, given that there are those who claim that belief in evolution is no different from belief in a religion.

Not to fear. No evangelizing atheists today. Just good old fashioned Christian proselytizing. Yes, they were handing out The Origin of Species, a special 150th Anniversary edition with an "intelligent design" introduction. Just wanted to be sure I heard about how I should repent of my sins before I was tempted to get any crazy ideas about how species naturally evolve.

I get a little annoyed whenever people try to convert me to Christianity, especially when it's sneaky. And I also get annoyed when people try to blur the distinction between science and theology. Each have their place. If your belief is impossible to disprove, then it doesn't belong in the realm of science. Feel free to discuss it, but don't undercut efforts to educate a scientifically literate public that can differentiate the two.

Plenty of people, including plenty of scientists who believe in God do believe something along the lines of "intelligent design". They believe in God, they just don't take the bible literally. It's perfectly logically consistent. Because belief in God and acceptance of the theory of evolution are not related, most such scientists don't feel the need to discuss their personal religious beliefs in the context of work. The problem is with trying to include presentation of religious beliefs in public education in a sneaky way.

Blurring the distinctions, however, is a brilliant tactic. The idea is to promote "intelligent design" as just another theory that deserves a fair hearing. By trying to paint opponents as pro-censorship, this book distribution appeals to the liberal sensibilities of potential converts.

If I tear out the introduction, am I "pro-censorship"? Is doing so any different than throwing away any other unsolicited religious tract handed to me on the street that doesn't appeal to me? What if admonitions to accept Jesus were tucked into a free copy of Leaves of Grass or the Communist Manifesto? Principles of Quantum Mechanics?

The Bible is also in the public domain. What if someone published a new version including an intro about the 4.5 billion year history of the Earth, questioning the real motivation of the Author or author(s)? Would you call it atheist propaganda? If it struck you as irreverent or just irrelevant, would you tear it out rather than throw away a perfectly good bible? I wouldn't be offended if you did.

for the children

2009-11-15T23:40:00.000-08:00

In the discussion at the end of our Jewish Identity Workshop on Israel we discussed how we should teach about Israel to the children. The question was posed whether we should be worried if we choose a difficult narrative, will they grow up to feel disconnected from Israel altogether? What do you do?

It was obvious to me. You model it. Whatever complicated narrative is on paper can be challenged later and that's actually a good thing. What you really want to teach is not some particular narrative, but caring about it at all. And you teach giving a shit, by showing that you give a shit. (Okay I didn't say it exactly like that.) But you model it with your actions.

And then I had the realization that modeling it is just what my parents did. I was beginning to wonder why it is that I care so much, and that's why. Not that you couldn't come to a decision to care for other reasons. It is very much a part of Jewish ethics to care about social justice, especially when injustice is committed in your name. But I, personally, give a shit to the extent that I do because of the nature of my upbringing. Not because of what I was taught in Hebrew school, but because my parents didn't just ship me to Hebrew school, they hung out at the shul volunteering, they were President of Sisterhood and Men's Club, they made sure that I grew up in that building, surrounded by people who were invested enough in the Jewish community to spend their time contributing to it.

So later when you realize that a lot of the things that those people told you about Israel were lies, it's a lot harder to throw it all away. It's a lot harder to assume that it must therefore all have been lies. I was too imbued with a sense that this is what you do to do anything other than tackle it head on and sort out for myself what to reject and what was worth holding onto.

My dad has enjoyed repeating over the last several years that "our daughter believes in our values more than we do." And it makes me proud that I make him proud. He and my mother are the ones that taught me to be involved in my community. And that's a lesson, conveyed by example, that can't be rejected even after some of the basic assumptions they taught on paper are reevaluated.

the big picture on water justice

2009-11-15T01:42:00.000-08:00

Friday evening at the UW I heard a talk on water and sanitation issues for Palestinians in the Occupied Territories, given by Susan Koppelman, an American Jew who works for a Palestinian organization called Life Source. It promised to be a fascinating exploration of how global concerns for freshwater availability and environmental stewardship are playing out in one particular conflict zone.

Having heard some information on water justice in Palestine I was hungry for details. I had in mind questions about wells, water rights, and the long-term prospects of the aquifers, which are all very pertinent to such matters as final status negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians. Additionally, these issues affect not just Israelis and Palestinians, but people throughout the region. Water is not a resource that is confined by borders.

The point about borders was driven home by Lester Brown, the well-known environmentalist who spoke on climate and food security the night before. Water is the key to food security, with much more water consumed to grow food than is consumed directly. One of the great challenges of already inevitable climate change will be how to deal with the conflict that emerges out of impacts on freshwater availability. Brown's concern for the very future of modern civilization, however hyperbolic it may have sounded, definitely put me in a mindset to think of the big picture.

Having lived in arid climates where water is a scarce resource, I have observed the results of dysfunctional policies on water management. As the American West illustrates, from the 1922 Colorado River Compact and subsequent legal battles, to modern day inequity and outdated laws on water rights, this is a pressing issue even in our own backyards. But the situation for Palestinians is unsurprisingly even more thorny.

It is morally reprehensible for a modern country to use four times the water per capita of the people in the territory next-door that it occupies. Israel entirely controls the water infrastructure. Farming by Israelis of water-intensive export crops in the Jordan Valley (in part of the West Bank) is all the more repugnant in this context.

Koppelman spoke compellingly about sanitation issues related to freshwater availability and sewage processing. Palestinians are unable to obtain the necessary permits to construct the water infrastructure that they need. In Gaza the results are especially dire. An already saltier aquifer is contaminated by sewage, causing unnecessary third-world health problems. 50-80 million liters of sewage a day, according to Koppelman's organization, are dumped into the Mediterranean Sea untreated (which can't help but damage Israeli beaches as well as those of Gaza). In parts of the West Bank 180,000 - 200,000 people depend on water that is trucked-in, which costs more than tap water and is more likely to be unsafe for consumption.

I was hoping for more specifics on the hydrology, but that was clearly too much to ask. The data to quantify the big picture for aquifers is undoubtedly not publicly available. Israeli hydrologists, who have dug deeper wells that undercut Palestinian water access in some cases, must have some idea of the status of the aquifers. It seems likely that they are being depleted, a long-term concern, but there is no way to know the specifics.

Koppelman gave a compelling presentation about the starkness of the inequity, framing water as a human right being denied Palestinians, and also as a sovereignty issue. Unfortunately it required attentiveness to separate the kernels of information that I craved on the topic from the rhetoric. Certainly the topic of water justice is political, and cannot be approached outside of a political context. But to what extent does every discussion have to turn into a lesson on the whole history of the conflict?

The speaker addressed the history of water agreements for the Jordan River, the policies of the Israeli government since 1967 under military orders, the stewardship of the Israeli national water company Mekorot since 1982, and the Joint Water Committee established in 1995 under Oslo, all of which was useful to understand the water issue specifically. But there was also a fair bit of digression, partly at her initiative and partly in response to questions.

The need to enforce a particular narrative at every opportunity is not so different really from what the right wing does in its attempts to enforce a different set of myths about Israel, insisting, for example that news stories are automatically biased if they mention the suffering of Palestinians without also discussing the fact that Israelis have security concerns.

I don't want this to turn into a post about my frustrations with the language we employ. (That could be an entire thesis.) But I did find some unnecessarily charged language used by the speaker. By commenting on it I don't wish to overshadow the important points that she made about the human right to freshwater and sanitation. I can understand, from her perspective that it can be easy to forget, when you completely immerse yourself in a embattled cause, how it looks to people on the outside.

That no attempt was made to separate the academic conveyance of information from an activist call to action is not inherently problematic. In fact, we should more often connect our specialized knowledge with real world problems. It is rather the lack of connection to how others perceive the world, which made the talk less effective in my view. It seemed at times that Koppelman was speaking only to the already entrenched supporters looking for one more example to confirm their existing belief in the need for boycott, divestment, and sanctions.

Furthermore, Koppelman's talk would also have been more effective if it situated this particular injustice for Palestinians within the global issue of water access, something she should understand as a student of international development. Any remotely realistic hopes for resolution of the conflict will require regional agreements about water rights, and cooperation between political authorities. While resolution of current injustices should not wait for some illusive future all-encompassing solution, it is useful to acknowledge those realities as well.

reflections on (my?) birthright

2009-11-10T21:19:00.000-08:00

A new study finds that young Jews who go on a Taglit-Birthright Israel trip are more likely than their Jewish peers to marry another Jew. The members of our community who've been harping about the threat of intermarriage since an (exaggerated) 52% intermarriage rate was reported in 1990, are finding comfort believing that at least one program they've thrown money at is "working".

In 1990 I was in elementary school. I specifically remember the intermarriage figure being cited at Hebrew school over the ensuing decade. The adults were worried about it.

The focus on intermarriage, however, assumes an awful lot. It assumes that you are going to be with a person of the opposite sex, who you may legally marry if you desire. It assumes that you want to marry at all. And finally it assumes that if you marry, Jew or non-Jew, that you will have children.

Having questioned whether each of those assumptions was valid in my case, the discussion could be quite alienating. Fast forward and as it happens I could legally marry my partner, but I choose not to. And I'm still not interested in children.

No Jewish mother wants to hear that she will be denied grandchildren, but as an only child that was the reality that I shared with mine a few years ago. With grandchildren (will they be raised Jewish?) out of the equation, my non-Jewish partner is not nearly as threatening. I'm involved with Jewish activities, and though I still receive pressure to involve myself in more of them, my parents have been remarkably accepting of my lifestyle choices. Turns out they just want me to be happy.

While I find the premise of a "birthright" to visit Israel extremely problematic, I'm not sure that I would turn down a free trip if eligible. I'm ineligible to go on Birthright because I've been to Israel on an organized trip before (during a summer in high school). I would therefore be counted in the statistics of those who did not do Birthright, although I probably had a similar institutional experience at an even more formative age. And I would not be in the column of those who marry a non-Jew, because I prefer not to marry. So it seems I'm not biasing the statistics either way. Just goes to show that it's a stupid measurement.

I do hear a lot of interesting feedback from participants though. For one thing, many people report that although they were expecting to be propagandized, the trip was remarkably free of such endeavors and actually just a good time. I wonder, what better sign that the effort to propagandize was successful?

If you visit such a complicated, contradictory, confusing part of the world and come away without having been exposed to anything at least a little troubling, then your handlers have done a good job. To be fair, though, there is a lot of processing involved in any cross-cultural experience. Upon my return, my trip to Israel was just a great time. But years later I reflected back on some experiences that made me uncomfortable and began to analyze them. Who's to say that no inadvertent seeds have been planted. Exposure to another country is never a bad thing, even if it wasn't "balanced" by an unvarnished view of the occupied Palestinian territories (though that wouldn't have hurt).

How can we measure more meaningful outcomes of a trip to Israel for a young adult? What we choose to measure is itself a sign of what we value. I would like to know whether some exposure to the reality of Israel, even if touristy and sanitized, actually gives participants a more nuanced perspective on the conflict there in the long-run.

What determines whether that occurs, or a less critical "pro-Israel" perspective is adopted? What kinds of interactions with other Jews are fostered, outside of romantic relationships? Is Israel providing a missing way to identify as a Jew that is an alternative to religious practice? Are we encouraging hedonistic, entitled, apolitical, "supporters" of Israel, or a more informed and meaningfully engaged community? I would like someone to measure these outcomes and get back to me. (And please find a way to quantify "engaged" more creatively than, are you going to marry a Jew?)

Joel Schalit in Seattle

2009-11-08T22:23:00.000-08:00

On the first stop of a book tour sponsored by Jewcy/Zeek and locally also byJew-ish.com, Joel Schalit spoke to a crowd of about 25 in the basement of the Elliot Bay Book Company in Seattle on Saturday night. The empty seats made me feel bad for not having promoted the event more, after stumbling on the description online earlier in the week. Especially after it turned out to be so interesting.

Schalit did some readings from his new book Israel vs. Utopia, and then took questions for an extended period. It was enough to get me excited about reading the book. It is about politics, but it is also very personal. Reading about Israel always in the context of the conflict with the Palestinians, it is so rare to hear something new.

Schalit is fixated on separating the reality of Israel from "that imaginary Israel in which both conservative and progressive Jews are so invested." While offering us one insider view on Israel, he also writes about diaspora. Living in the diaspora is clearly experienced differently for an Israeli than an American Jew. Intriguingly, Schalit also feels a sense of common experience with other Middle Easterners living abroad. He is also very conscious of American influence over Israel, as became evident in the question and answer session.

There was a lot of talk of conservative and liberal. Because "liberal" was not defined, the question of whether there is space in Israel for liberalism was a bit confusing, but I am guessing that it was American-style political liberalism being referred to. Also, Schalit claimed that it is a conservative notion that you must live in Israel to truly understand it, which left me thinking about the anti-occupation activists who've told me that you must spend time in the West Bank to truly understand the situation.

Appropriately, Schalit also pointed out the recent disparity between Israeli and American Jewish public opinion, with the figure that 78% of American Jews voted for Obama while only 6% of Israelis think he's good for Israel. This echoed the emphasis put on this disconnect by Daniel Sokatch at the JStreet conference, that I've already commented on.

And of course someone asked about JStreet. While he has positive feelings about it, Schalit pessimistically questioned if, perhaps, JStreet is ten years too late, inviting us to imagine if it had existed in 1998 where we would be today. Shivers.

One of the many tidbits that my brain is gnawing on, the notion of fluidity of borders that Schalit explored in one of his anecdotes. Of course, Schalit himself transcends borders with relative ease, giving us a perspective on Israel that cannot be acquired solely from the outside or solely from the inside.

on Stewart on Levitt and Dubner

2009-11-01T21:54:00.000-08:00

As has been pointed out, Jon Stewart was a big disappointment interviewing Steven Levitt the other night. He bought into the argument that geo-engineering would be a great cheap, quick fix to the problems of climate change. Leave aside for the moment whether it would actually be a reasonable fix, cheap or quick.

A sentiment is expressed of resentment towards conservation-based strategies. Opponents of geo-engineering are accused of clinging to a religion of environmentalism, in which depriving yourself for the planet is as non-sensical as capitalism would view any faith-based asceticism. To such zealots, an alternative to the change in lifestyle that they advocate would be threatening, so they have a motivation to discredit geo-engineering.

It is easy to see why this explanation would be appealing. We receive mixed messages. We are told to conserve as individuals: change your lightbulbs, don't drive your SUV so much, recycle, use less. At the same time, we are told that the problem is so insurmountably large that what we do is never enough. And even if all of us were to conserve as much as we should, there would still be China and India growing to emit more carbon in our place.

As an economist should understand, this is the dilemma of the commons. Why should anyone, as an individual, watch out for the common good if everyone else isn't going to do it too? When people abuse the commons, those costs are not accounted for. So it can be frustrating for an individual who cares about climate change, and some easy way out of the dilemma would be attractive.

Unfortunately, Levitt and Dubner are analyzing the economics of a solution they do not really understand. For example, scenarios using sulfer particles for cooling require a commitment to continually replenish them. It is not a one-time implementation. Risk is another thing that economists should know they need to account for in any analysis. Levitt and Dubner seem to misunderstand the level of certainty in the science behind proposed geo-engineering schemes. Additionally there are externalities that may or may not be anticipated.

Meanwhile, if we tried to include in prices all of the true costs to the earth system it would fundamentally alter our economy. And changing nothing is clearly unsustainable. So the focus should be on policy proposals that regulate the commons and give incentives for mutually beneficial behavior. To some elites, perhaps, an alternative to the economy they analyze would be threatening, so they have a motivation to discredit policy options that move in that direction.

Granada

2009-10-30T23:00:00.000-07:00

Remembering my time there after happening upon this amazing piece at Jewcy/Zeek. I wish I would have run into some Jews (especially Jews like this) while living there. Definitely there was a sense that I was surrounding by Jewish history... but that history was all that remained. The Islamic parts of the history seem a little bit alive because of all of the recent immigrants, and I can almost use that to help me imagine myself back to a golden age of coexistence.

That golden age, of course, reminds me of a comment from one of the sessions at the recent JStreet conference. Salam Al-Marayati of the Muslim Public Affairs Council tried to end his comments about interfaith dialogue on a positive note, saying that we can create the next golden age of Jewish-Muslim interaction, here in America. It's a wonderful vision, and I'm totally on-board for doing cross-community dialogue work. Of course, the impact of our dialogues is primarily local. If Israelis and Palestinians want to see the impact of this approach they'll have to try it themselves (as some are), but the goal is not exactly the same for them as for us.

It doesn't hurt to humanize the Other enough to begin advocating for policies that promote peace. But here in America, by choosing to live here and not there, we could be opting for something more. Here interaction is less easily avoided, and perhaps even embraced. But the path to peace that JStreet advocates (two states) does mean separation for better or worse. In the best case it could mean that each culture will thrive with the secure fulfillment of its people's national aspirations. We'll have to wait and see and compare it to our experience.

By the way, you can still read an article I coauthored about Islamophobia while living in Granada (pages 23 and 24) if you read Spanish.

Where to begin?

2009-10-30T22:24:00.000-07:00

I have a few guest posts over at Jewschool.com about the recent JStreet conference. Here, here, and here.

First Post

2009-10-30T21:37:00.000-07:00

I'm here to comment publicly, primarily on the topics over which I spend my time obsessing: justice as it pertains to Israel/Palestine and climate, science and education.