My admiration for Jewish protestors at the capitol

    This is the first time I've written here in almost a year. I'm not sure why today was the day to break that streak. I've felt helpless in the face of the world's problems over the past two weeks and I suppose the best thing I know to do is write. The voice of doubt within me questions whether I have any business weighing in on this topic, and I'm sure some who read it will agree. But a greater part of me knows that I have a moral duty to speak out on matters about which I have a strong conviction, whether or not they have a direct impact on me. As MLK famously wrote, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly." I hope some of you find meaning in these words.

 Earlier this week I came across an article about an action at the capitol building organized by a group called "Jewish Voice for Peace." Five hundred of them were arrested as they protested Israel's ongoing siege in Gaza and longstanding occupation of Palestine. As soon as I opened the article I was brought to tears by their bravery in taking this strong stand in such a fraught political climate. 

Many of the protestors wore shirts saying "NOT IN OUR NAME"

  There are stories that more urgently need to be centered in this brutal conflict, first and foremost those of the Gazans who are facing an unimaginable humanitarian crisis. For two weeks they've been cut off from all fuel, food and even WATER, and the little aid that finally made it in yesterday was "totally insufficient compared to the desperate needs of the people" according to Doctors without Borders. All while the Israeli government continues to level entire neighborhoods in incessant bombing campaigns and threatens an imminent invasion. Over 4,000 already dead–close to triple the number on the other side–and a third of them children. US media outlets are doing an embarrassing job at providing the public an accurate picture of the horrors that are unfolding, and I hope people reading this are not relying solely on them for their news. 

  But the story about the protestors at the capitol is also one that I believe carries an extremely important and nuanced message that the rest of us in the US need to hear. Maybe it spoke to me because I see myself in these protestors. I'm not Jewish, and so I hope that doesn't sound presumptuous. But I do know what it feels like to be a white person dedicated to a struggle against injustices committed by a government that values white lives over others. I know the self-questioning that comes with it. The inevitable guilt. The complicated navigating of relationships with white loved ones who aren't quite there yet, or will never get there. It's painful and exhausting. And these folks protesting at the capitol are dealing with an even more convoluted predicament, protesting both the US government at home and a government in their ancestral homeland claiming to represent their people. 

  I've read that many progressive Jews have felt alienated by the left because of statements justifying the Hamas attack and immediately placing the blame squarely on Israel's shoulders, all without any mourning whatsoever for the 1400 Israelis killed, many of whom were civilians. This frustration makes sense to me, and I feel for them. On the one hand, Israel does bear responsibility for the decades-long occupation, and Palestinians do have the right to resist. But human life is human life. Civilians being butchered indiscriminately because they happen to have been born or currently live in Israel cannot be justified. We're talking about real people, with families whose lives have been shattered. Understanding the context and empathizing with the anger behind the attack is one thing; justifying it while bypassing any grief at the loss of life goes much too far, and defeats the purpose of those fighting for a more humane world. Especially in the context of rising anti-Semitism both domestically and globally, reading that kind of post and statement has been disturbing.

And yet it's also difficult to justify dwelling solely on the deaths in Israel when within days there were already more deaths of innocent people in Gaza. The way that the media and pro-Israel supporters emphasize the one over the other reflects a supremacist hierarchy of human life, with Palestinian people ranking lower than Israelis.

 The issue is far from black and white. The history is extremely complex, as will be any real solutions going forward. I recognize that.

  And yet despite what must be such a painful and thorny position to be in, this predominantly Jewish group of protestors put their bodies on the line to resist Israeli occupation and demand a ceasefire. Many of them invoked their ancestors as the inspiration for their actions, saying that they had been taught by older generations that their historical experience of persecution puts them in a unique position to resist the oppression of all peoples worldwide. This isn't a surprise, as it's precisely that orientation which explains why Jewish people have consistently had a better track record than other white folks here in the US when it comes to joining in the struggle for Black rights. This despite having to deal with their own battles against anti-Semitism.

  I guess what moved me so much about the protestors was their willingness to take such an unpopular stance despite the complexities of their history, faith, and identity; to speak out so vehemently and with such conviction against Israeli occupation, which to all honest observers is a plainly unjust situation, one that will only continue to perpetuate the cycle of violence until it comes to an end. We all inhabit complex ecologies of identities and politics, but complexity can't be an excuse for not taking a stand that we know, beneath our biases and loyalties, is right. We would all do well to see the brave protestors at the capitol as an example.