Throughout history, on the ninth
day of the Jewish month of Av, many tragedies befell the Jewish people. Both Temples were destroyed (655 years apart),
the Bar Kokba revolt was crushed (322) and the Jews were expelled from Spain in
1492 (to name a few events).
Tisha B’Av begins at nightfall
(like all Jewish holidays) and there is the custom of reading Eicha (the book
of Lamentations) in synagogues while sitting on the floor. Eicha is the beautiful and heart-wrenching
verse composed by the prophet Jeremiah.
Here’s a sample:
He has hurled down the splendor of Israel
from heaven to earth; he has not remembered his footstool in the day of his anger.
2 Without pity the Lord has swallowed up all the dwellings of Jacob; in his wrath he
has torn down the strongholds of the Daughter of Judah. He has brought her
kingdom and its princes down to the ground in dishonor.
3 In fierce anger he has cut off every horn of Israel. He has withdrawn his right hand at the approach of the enemy. He has burned in
Jacob like a flaming fire that consumes everything around it.
This year, Tisha B’av was
actually held on the 10th of Av due to the fact that the 9th
fell on Shabbat and we don’t fast on Shabbat. I began my fast about half an
hour before Shabbat ended with a third meal with my roommates and friends. As
soon as Shabbat ended, we headed off to hear Eicha being read.
Here’s where it gets interesting.
I had heard about an “Eicha reading and walk around the Old City” that sounded
interesting to me. I love historical tours I thought it would be really
meaningful to go into the Old City on erev Tisha B’av. So I dragged some
friends along to the Megillah reading (at Gan HaAtzmaut) to commence our
evening. There were a lot of people out for the megillah reading and the atmosphere
was really intense (in a good way). After Eicha was read (I followed along on
my new Iphone), a few people started giving speeches and organizing the walk. A
few Members of Knesset started talking about the tragedies of the Jewish people
and how we no longer have the Temple which represents our weakness; a Rabbi
from New York gave a speech about how the Jewish people will never be whole
until we have the Temple again. People started getting riled up and the “walk”
(which actually turned out to be a march) commenced.
The organizers started handing
out Israeli flags and the riot police flanked out sides (some even rode on
horses). A few of my friends picked up on the intensity of the situation and
decided to bail, but a few of us wanted to stick it out and see what would
happen.
The march headed up through Mamilla and up towards Jaffa gate.
“It looks like the crazies are
out” a friend of mine commented. We walked along, noting the insanity of it all
while seeing ourselves as outsiders.
But then, as the crowd turned
towards Damascus gate (in a mainly Arab area of East Jerusalem), we stopped
joking around and recognized what was actually going on. What was this march
doing? We were not going on a tour around the old city to the Kotel, why were
we going in this direction? We started asking each other. I think we kind of
knew from the start what we were getting ourselves into, but as my friend
called it, it was a ‘boiling frog situation’.
This march had a very clear
message which was: ‘you [the Arabs] destroyed our Temple and we are going to
march through your neighborhood to show you who is boss.’ By marching, I was
agreeing.
It was a bit sickening and we all
decided to ditch as soon as possible. Even my self-proclaimed radically rightist
friend was appalled.
The fast itself was not actually
too bad. I pretty much slept the entire next day. Waking up here and there to
read a depressing novel or the news (you’re supposed to be sad on Tisha B’av).
The excitement of my day came towards the end of the fast when I went to go see
Mit Romney speak.
I thought the speech was pretty standard. He said what I thought he would say with regards to his support for Israel. He mentioned the accomplishment of building a state after the Holocaust, discussed the common values between the US and Israel, mentioned the 11 Israeli athletes murdered at the Munich Olympic games 40 years ago and the terrorist attack that killed Israelis and Americans at Hebrew U ten years ago.
He also pledged his support for Israel in defending it against Iran.
"When Iran's leaders deny the Holocaust or speak of wiping this nation off the map, only the naive, or worse, will dismiss it as an excess of rhetoric," he said. "Make no mistake: The ayatollahs in Tehran are testing our moral defenses. They want to know who will object, and who will look the other way. My message to the people of Israel and the leaders of Iran is one and the same: I will not look away ... We have seen the horrors of history. We will not stand by. We will not watch them play out again."
Clearly, I like hearing my country being praised, but parts of Romney’s speech did not sit well with me (no, I’m not referring to the economic comment which I apparently zoned out during).
First, I kept wondering why Romney was so supportive of Israel. I love it and understand the necessity of a Jewish state to exist, but I’m Jewish, what’s his excuse? Is it really all about the Jewish voters in the United States? Is it possible, that Mitt Romney actually understands and sympathizes with the need and desire to have a Jewish democratic state? I honestly don’t think so.
Second, I had a difficult time believe Romney when he spoke of similarities between the US and Israel. He mentioned that one democratic value we both hold highly is respecting minority rights. This got me thinking about what a future state would look like. If we do come to a one-state solution, can minority rights really be protected? Isn’t that the crux of Liberalism—right are protected for all people and not just the majority? To what extent am I willing to sacrifice Liberalism for a Jewish state?
After the speech, I got a call from a friend who invited me to a “Ramadan/Tisha B’Av Break-fast” event. This dinner was made up of Jewish and Muslim Israelis all whom (or some whom) had fasted during the day (it is also Ramadan). The meal was delicious (as most meals are when you’ve fasted all day) but the interesting conversation that ensued was even better.
After dinner and over a nargillah, we started discussing our visions for the future. Ibraham, brought up a solution.
“In the end” he started, “all we really want is one government, one land, and many people living here all being taught the same things in school.”
“What will that be” someone asked.
“The same history about the land, so we don’t have any confusion how it came about”
“Like?”
“For example, what, we learn in school is that there are Zionists, and Jews. The Jews are just people who practice a certain religion. Not all Zionists are Jews and not all Jews are Zionists. The Zionists are the evil people who want to conquer the land and kick everyone else out. Clearly Jews and Muslims can get along we just have to get rid of the Zionists.”
“What about me?” I interjected. “I’m a Jew and a Zionist. Your definition of Zionist is not what I learned in school.”
“Do you believe that Israel should be a Jewish State?” He asked me. Before I had a chance to answer, someone changed the subject.
But what would have I said? I do believe in the necessity of Israel being a Jewish state. But what does that mean for the other people living here? If a one-state solution were to ensue, how can we be a Jewish state? There might be a Jewish majority, but again, we would still have to respect the rights of the minority ergo losing some ‘Jewishness.’
The rest of the evening was enjoyable. We talked about the origins of our names and talked about our favorite word in the other language (mine is ‘Yalla’).
On a lighter note, everything was ok the next day because some friends and I went to Tel Aviv and rebuilt the Temple in the sand.
