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Category: Peace

Blogging Elul 5771: Lighting the way to peace

Have you been following the Jewels of Elul this year? Craig Taubman, musician, compiles short daily postings from a wide range of contributors on an annual theme that is woven into the pre-High Holyday month of Elul.  This year the theme is ‘light’ and postings have come from authors, politicians, musicians, activists and spiritual leaders from all walks of life, Jewish and non-Jewish.


I always find the Jewels of Elul to be insightful, but this year the most powerful posting that I have found so far came not from one of the official contributors, but from the page where anyone can leave a comment.  Craig received a short teaching from the great Jewish teacher and leader of the twentieth century, Rav Kook.  It was sent to him by Don Abramson. He shared it on the comments page.  I’m re-sharing it below.  It speaks for itself.
“There are those who mistakenly think that world peace can only come when there is a unity of opinions and character traits.  Therefore, when scholars and students of Torah disagree, and develop multiple approaches and methods, they think that they are causing strife and opposing shalom.  In truth, it is not so, because true shalom is impossible without appreciating the value of pluralism intrinsic in shalom.  The various pieces of peace come from a variety of approaches and methods which make it clear how much each one has a place and a value that complements one another.  Even those methods which appear superfluous or contradictory possess an element of truth which contributes to the mosaic of shalom.  Indeed, in all the apparent disparate approaches lies the light of truth and justice, knowledge, fear and love, and the true light of Torah.”
Olat HaRe’iah
 Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak Kook

Reacting to the Death of Osama Bin Laden

This is a cross-posting of an article written by Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster at the blog of Rabbis for Human Rights – North America. Many pieces have been posted online today, reflecting on the news of the assassination of Osama Bin Laden. Rabbi Kahn-Troster’s review of these messages, and her own reflections resonated most deeply with my own thoughts today. I highly recommend her article to you. Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Photo by by Zola  via flickr.com. Creative Commons License.

I was checking my email late last night when I noticed a headline on the New York Times website: “President Obama to address the nation.” “They’ve caught Bin Laden,” I said to my husband. “There is nothing else urgent enough for an instant press conference on a Sunday night.” As I waited for the President’s speech, I realized I really didn’t know how I felt. Relief? Renewed sadness over 9/11? How are you supposed to feel when your enemy falls?

For me, as for many Americans, this is not a theoretical question. I was in New York on 9/11 and watched the Twin Towers get hit. Even though more than 10 years have passed, there is part of me that is still back on that day, under attack and scared. I’ve long viewed my work at RHR-NA fighting torture as my patriotic response to what I experienced. The best way to beat the terrorists was to uphold America values about freedom and the rule of law. I felt that the most fitting end for the search would Bin Laden would have involved a fair trial in an American court room, with the terrorist locked up for years and years. As the wrangling over Guantanamo intensified, it became clear that such an end for Bin Laden was unlikely. Rabbi Arthur Waskow described Sunday’s results, Bin Laden’s death in a firefight, as a “sad necessity.” But the scenes of unbridled celebration outside of the White House seemed at odds with the solemnity of the moment. I watched them and was deeply uncomfortable. For me, they transformed the moment into one of revenge. Maybe I am overreacting. Surely, those of us on the left tend to have a knee-jerk reaction to moments of patriotism. But I don’t think I am wrong. I cannot celebrate the death of another human being.

I’m not alone in my ambivalence. A quick survey of my friends shows that many of them are quoting the midrash about the death of the Egyptians at the Red Sea, when the angels are chastised for celebrating the death of God’s creatures. To actively celebrate over the death of another human being (sacred and created in God’s image) feels wrong, no matter how evil or how much they are our enemy. But others of my friends pressed that the celebration of the death of an individual enemy was different than rejoicing over the killing of innocents. The joy they felt was not one of revenge but of relief that evil had been overcome. As Rabbi Morris Allen posted on Facebook, he spills wine at seder for the suffering of the Egyptians during the plagues but not for the Pharaoh who caused their deaths. Osama Bin Laden was such a Pharaoh.

The President’s somber tone in his announcement should give us guidance for the national mood. It was not a time for rejoicing–the death of Bin Laden will not bring back the lives that were lost. It was our job as a nation not to pursue revenge but to seek justice. As activists, we translate tzedek as righteousness when we said “tzedek tzedek tirdof” and seek a more equitable world. But today we are reminded that justice is one of the pillars on which the world is built. God demands us to seek out justice.

Reflecting over the strange coincidence of the death of Bin Laden being announced on Yom HaShoah, Rabbi Menachem Creditor reflected:
I’m not sure what I mean right now. I’m relieved that an evil has been eliminated from the world. I’m mourning our lost Six Million. I’m watching the crowds on Pennsylvania Ave and Ground Zero, weeping at all that happened and is forever changed, aching for some healing and some small amount of hope. I’m still hearing the testimony from a Shoa survivor shared less than three hours ago echoing in my heart, proud to have joined as a large Berkeley Jewish community to bear witness to our collective pain. I’m lost right now. That’s all I think I can mean at the moment. We do not rejoice at the death of our enemy. The implementation of justice is not a joyful celebration. As Rabbi Cohen writes of watching the recording of Eichmann’s trial, “In this man’s eyes are reflected the ghosts of his uncountable victims…and also nothing at all.” I am riveted by the face of Bin Laden. I do not want to look into his eyes. Those eyes witnessed the snuffing out of so much life; those eyes remained willfully blind to the pain and loss he caused. I believe justice has indeed been served today. Joylessly, as is appropriate.

The reaction of the religious community has largely been along those lines as well. The Vatican called on Catholics to not rejoice but reflect on the death as an opportunity for furthering peace. The New Evangelical Partnership for the Common Good reminded us: “Our response is disciplined by belief that war itself is tragic and that all killing in war, even in self-defense, must be treated with sobriety and even mournfulness. War and all of its killing reflects the brokenness of our world. That is the proper spirit with which to greet this news.” Two of the major Muslim organizations, the Muslim Public Affairs Council and the Islamic Society of North America, have framed Bin Laden’s death in terms of justice for victims of 9/11 and repeated President Obama’s call for national unity. Like the President, they also took the opportunity to remind American that the radical terrorist did not represent or speak for Islam.

My friend Rabbi Noah Farkas wrote: “It’s not the celebration on the day of the death of an enemy that exemplifies justice, but how we choose to live the day after.” Repairing the broken world is not about what someone else might do, it is about us and how we bear the responsibilities given to us. Treating every human being as created in God’s image is difficult. Feeling compassion for the stranger, because we were strangers, is not an easy choice. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 65b) insists that the responsibility for healing is in our hands, if only we could overcome our own limitations: “Raba said: If the righteous desired it, they could be creators of worlds, as it is written, “But your iniquities have separated between you and your God [Isaiah 59:2].”

Today is the day after. Let us create a world of peace.

A Two State Solution – Matters of Perspective

I’d like to bring your attention to the blog of Professor Stephen Healey, a dean at the University of Bridgeport.  His prior position was as Associate professor of World Religions and it was due to his expertise in that field that I originally met Stephen.  We both spoke on a panel at a World Religions day at Greens Farms Academy, Westport last year, me sharing some core beliefs of Judaism and he sharing some core teachings of Buddhism.  He subsequently visited our Comparative Religion class at Merkaz, our Hebrew High School program, this year, to introduce core concepts in Buddhism to students there.


Earlier this week I spoke at the University of Bridgeport on Jewish perspectives on a two-state peace in the Middle East.  While I offered some of my own perspectives on what such a peace may look like, based on some pragmatic assessments on what Israel might or might not ever be willing to contemplate as part of a peace settlement, I also attempted to convey a range of Israeli and Jewish perspectives, covering more left and right wing points of views, secular and religious Zionist perspectives.  In doing so, my goal was to share, before an almost entirely non-Jewish audience, what the Israeli side of the issue looks like, in its diversity, and the kind of beliefs, concerns, and demands that ‘the other side’ needs to be aware of and understand if we are to be able to move forward toward peace.  Professor Healey was the respondent to my presentation, before we took some questions from the audience during which I was pleased to hear respectful and thoughtful critique and alternative points of views from members of the Muslim community that our Tent of Abraham program has begun to establish trusting friendships with.  The tone of the conversation was very much about being able to express and hear this variety of perspectives, without anyone feeling the need to ‘win’ the debate.


I look forward to being able to continue the learning and dialog in contexts such as these.


Below is Professor Healey’s summary of the evening.  You can read more from his thoughtful blog, RITN: Religion in the News here:

Tonight in an event at the University of Bridgeport, I had the good pleasure to hear Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz’s views of the two-state solution for Israel and Palestine. Gurevitz serves as a rabbi at Congregation B’nai Israel in Bridgeport, Connecticut.


Gurevitz began her presentation with a reflection on perspective. She argued that, depending on one’s perspective, the founding of the modern state of Israel is either a great blessing or a great catastrophe. Neither perspective, she said, is truer than the other; both are true insofar as they define the perspective from which the founding of Israel is viewed.


She expressed strong support for the two-state solution, which she described as a return to the borders of 1967, with some additional land swaps to be negotiated. For that to be possible from a Jewish perspective, she argued, security issues would need to be dealt with in a decisive fashion. There is an existential feeling of the threat of violence among Israelis. Israelis needs to be convinced that violence is contained and will not spread as a result of a return of territory. She added that religious and political ideologies make accomplishing this quite difficult. She also identified three additional issues that will make the path to peace a challenging way: that there should be no preconditions to beginning a dialogue about the two-state solution, that regional issues are interrelated with Israel-Palestine, and that from a Jewish perspective Palestinian refugees cannot be settled permanently in Israel. Tough news, but this is where real dialogue about this issue begins.

She concluded by holding out the prospect for peace, and referred to J Street, which is dedicated to finding a secure Middle East Peace. J Street also conducts polling to identify Jewish attitudes toward issues related to peace. She asked the audience to seek to identify a broad range of Jewish perspectives, and not to conclude that one view—even if it does receives most media attention—adequately represents the feelings, fears, hopes, and aspirations of the entire Jewish community.


Rabbi Gurevitz’s approach demonstrated, at least for me, that being committed to a perspective does not preclude, but may even facilitate, engagement with other points of view.

3rd candle: What if the world were a Hanukiyah or maybe a salad?




The 8 blogs of Chanukah. Each night a new blog from the community of Congregation B’nai Israel.


Tonight, the third blog of Chanukah is brought to you by Andrea Rudolph.  Andrea is a member of B’nai Israel.  She is a regular at Friday night services, playing clarinet in the B’nai Israel band, and often playing solo instrument at other services.  Andrea is also a composer, as you’ll learn from her blog tonight.  Among her many projects and talents, Andrea is teaching a course at B’nai Israel, beginning January 4th, The Holiness of Wholeness: Exploring God and Ourselves, about the attributes of the soul.  She also co-leads Chantsformationsa Jewish mantra chanting and meditation hour each month at the Soma Center for Well-Being, with Rabbi Gurevitz.  Her husband, Mike, is the leader of the B’nai Israel band.  They have two children, Benjamin and Jacob.


When my boys were in elementary school, one of the highlights of December was their winter concert.  My younger son played trombone in the band and my older son played violin in the orchestra.  Even more than seeing my own children on stage, I loved hearing the fifth grade choir sing their hearts out.  I was taken by the vision of eighty – ten and eleven year olds inspiring peace and holiday cheer with their voices, choreography and spirit.  “Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me”, the children crooned while images of people from around the world flashed on a screen behind them.  Tears always fall from my eyes when I see and hear children singing about peace.  Seeing them united in song and celebration gives me hope for our world and opens my heart. 
A few years ago, motivated by the vision of young people united by music, I wrote a Chanukah song called Nine Candles.  It started with this image of a Hanukiyah (the Chanukah menorah): 
What if the world was a Hanukiyah,
Red and green,
Blue and white?
What if each candle
Spread warmth and light,
Joy and peace,
Banished anger and spite?
What would the world be like if we saw ourselves linked together – distinct yet united with a common purpose to shed more light in the world?  There’s a human flaw of ego that believes that peace will come by convincing others to believe as we believe.  But that belief is based on the assumption that differences prevent us from achieving a greater purpose.   But there are many experiences that teach us otherwise.
Years ago, I worked with a woman who challenged my understanding of unity and the “melting pot” myth we hold so dear in our country.  Mary was a brilliant, energetic executive director of an agency that worked with refugees and immigrants.  She had a passion for justice that took her from Haiti to Macedonia to the State Capitol in the 1990’s.  When I first met Mary, I couldn’t quite figure out her ethnicity.  (Why we so often have a need to “figure someone out” is another conversation but in this case I learned a lesson which changed my perspective forever.)  After working with Mary for a few weeks, I found myself attending a meeting with her.  As we walked back to the office after the meeting, we explored the subject of immigrant integration and assimilation to American culture.  My initial belief (at that time) was that the more cultures interacted and even intermarried, the more likely it would be for peace to prevail on earth.  “Wouldn’t peace be more likely if the boundaries of separation between countries, cultures, people and religions blurred?”, I wondered out loud. 
Mary presented me with an image:  “Imagine you were making a beautiful salad.  You put the lettuce in a large bowl.  Then you add cucumbers and carrots, celery and tomatoes.  You mix in some red onion and croutons for more flavor, spice and crunch.  Then you make a nice dressing, pour it on top and toss…..Now imagine if I told you take that same salad and put it in a blender, what would your salad look like now? How would it taste?”  I remember stopping mid-stride on a Boston sidewalk to let it sink in.  Then she looked at me and said, “My mother is a white Irish American woman, my father was Filipino.  They met during the war years ago.  Each of those pieces of who I am makes up my own salad.  By diluting, denying or blending any culture for the sake of assimilation, we lose the rich, crispy, color and taste of that “salad”.  That’s not the kind of world I want to live in.”

Many years later, I can look back on that conversation and see how it has impacted my perspective on diversity and creating bridges of understanding.  I have learned that it is indeed the uniqueness of each person that inspires and connects us to the whole of humanity.  Our power to influence peace and change in the world is most effective when we both shine our own light and admire someone else’s.  Standing proudly next to someone else linked by the common goal of humanity  (just as the candles in the Hanukiyah stand next to one another in remembrance of the miracle of Chanukah), we can learn to live fully with joy, purpose and compassion.   Who determines joy, purpose and compassion?  It rests with each of us to discern which vegetable we are in that salad, or which color candle in that Hanukiyah.  
In the words of Martha Graham,
There is a vitality, a life-force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost.
May you always stand ready and proud to shine your unique light into the world, adding to the beauty and magnificence of all creation.  Many blessings for a season filled with light, peace and compassion. 


Listen to Andrea’s song, ‘Nine Candles’ below:


Reflections on the J Street Conference, Part II.

Three sessions in particular focused on the actual process of dialogue, offering thoughtful presentations on how to ensure that we have open, engaging and inclusive dialogue about Israel in our home communities. 
One, which I missed, by which was recorded in one of Rachel Barenblat’s blog reports, here, reflected on how delicately many rabbis feel they need to tread when speaking about Israel in their congregations and communities, and offered models for creating safe space and open dialogue that can help everyone feel more connected to Israel by not shutting down and shutting out voices that we may disagree with. The session began with Rabbi David Cooper who, among other things, talked about Project Reconnections. He referred to a metaphor that he uses often when talking about the work of this intra-communal dialogue project – that many Jews, when talking about Israel, tend to fall into one of two camps – either ‘prophets’ or ‘guardians’. Prophets are those who ask “if we are only for ourselves, who are we,” and guardians ask “if we are not for ourselves, who will be?” (Both of these questions come from Hillel.) “If we rabbis are going to take a role in trying to harmonize the prophetic side of our congregations and the guardian side of our congregations, it’s going to be up to us to do it, and I recommend that we do that first, before we begin to share our own individual positions about Israel/Palestine.” Once we’ve created space for dialogue, then we also have a space to speak, as long as we do so with humility. And if we rabbis will not promote a culture of dialogue, who will; “and of course, if not now, then when?” 
I find this metaphor very useful, because I am especially interested in ways of thinking about having dialogue in our communities, and creating safe, open dialogue both within Jewish communities, and with other faith communities. It is important that we not be afraid to hold different opinions, and to share multiple perspectives gathered from many places. For most of us who are not experts, how else do we remain truly informed so that we can make informed choices about what kinds of initiatives to support? Aside from my own personal leanings on the issue of peace in the Middle East, I went to J Street to listen and learn. And, from that experience I can share and teach, and wish to help create safe space for open, respectful community dialogue about Israel and the Peace process. 
To that end, Rachel Barenblat’s report on a session entitled ‘How do we stop talking to ourselves’, which I attended,  was one that I found particularly helpful for articulating what we can be doing to broaden the conversation within our communities and across different communities. Three young women, working in different kinds of dialogue projects, both in the USA and facilitating dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians, offered hope through the sharing of their grassroots experiences. Such projects may not offer the political strategies and motivations that are needed to advance the peace process at an international level, but every grassroots project that helps to shape and shift the culture and perceptions held of ‘the other’ by each side of the conflict can only benefit the larger goals. 
Another excellent review of a session where the emphasis was on building relations with others so that we can have genuinely open conversation across different communities that is respectful and safe focused on dialogue between Jews, Christians, and Muslims. I attended this excellent session, which is also recorded in detail by Rachel Barenblat here.  This session focused on interfaith dialogue in the USA that does not shy away from discussing the Middle East, but does so in a way that builds bridges and understanding between people. 
Time and time again, the message was clear. We must build meaningful connections and relationships with those who see the world differently to us. In so doing, we see each other as fully human, and begin to genuinely care about each other. This creates a safe space into which we can express our beliefs, hopes, fears, and ideas, and remain open to listening to others. We may not convince or persuade others to adopt our positions, but perhaps the path to peace, beyond the political level, between two peoples who one day wish to live side by side, can only come when we are open to hearing each other’s truths.

Reflections on the J Street Conference, Part I.

Today, somewhat of a detour from the usual content of this blog, to offer a summary of perspectives and thoughts on the J Street Conference in Washington D.C.  J Street, in the lead-up to this conference, was the subject of intense commentary and debate, from those who were skeptical and critical of how supportive of Israel it truly was (the question we so often ask… ‘Is it good for the Jews?’) to those who were excited and energized by the opportunity to come together to hear a multiplicity of voices of those who care deeply about Israel and also care deeply about peace, human rights, and justice.
I wrote about J Street, and my decision to attend the conference, in my congregational bulletin article this month, which you can read here:
This is a longer than usual posting. I want to emphasize several things about the nature of my report, and my focus and interest in J Street. As I had stated in my bulletin article, I had gone to listen and learn. I want to try and offer a summary of what I heard, considered, and the questions that remain. While I do have my own leanings on the issue of how to proceed in the Peace Process, I offer thoughts and information, in keeping with my role as a Rabbi – a teacher, but I wish to model open discussion and dialogue, and not present a bully pulpit for a particular point of view.
I have very vivid memories of my first year as an undergraduate at University College London, attending a Jewish student meeting about Israel where a student who tried to express a critique of a particular policy of Israel was shouted down by others who challenged the young man’s Jewish and Zionist credentials. It was made quite clear that thoughtful consideration and debate about Israel was not welcome there, and I was so thoroughly put off that I never attend a Jewish student society event again in the 7 years I attended UCL (3 years of undergrad, and 4 years for my PhD). And so, when the J Street conference opened by inviting us to turn to those at our table (as it did on several other occasions during the conference) and encouraged us to share our backgrounds, our questions, our concerns, I felt that I had come to a place where real dialogue, openness, and a willingness to hear perspectives different to our own were truly welcomed. Not that all perspectives would ultimately be represented by J Street, the organization, but that the conference itself was much more than just a platform for advocating a very specific agenda; at this first gathering, there was an attempt to set a new tone and foster and encourage a culture of dialogue that could be taken back to our home communities.
The fact that, to a large extent, this culture of dialogue was modeled at the conference is so important especially, it became clear, for engaging young adults and college students on Israel. We heard that too many of them today feel as I did nearly 20 years ago when I attended that Jewish Student Society meeting – feeling hopeless, unsure of their support for some of Israel’s actions, ambivalent about their own personal relationship with Israel, and disenfranchised from the possibility of meaningful dialogue. While some have debated whether young American Jews have a ‘right’ to feel as they do (see Daniel Gordis’ recent posting here, for example), I am simply concerned that they feel this way and want to do whatever we can to bring the next generation back into the conversation. For that reason alone I applaud J Street and would, without question, attend again for an opportunity to continue to learn and think deeply about the strategic, political and moral choices facing Israel and the Palestinian people as we continue to strive to make peace.
There were a number of sessions that explicitly focused on the work of developing a culture of dialogue and openness to debate with regard to Israel and the peace process, which I’ll say more about in a second posting. But first, having spent several hours reading many blogs, online magazine and news articles, and followed many tweets on the conference, I offer my own, selective, distilling of some good places to watch video, read detailed reports on specific sessions, and dip into a broad array of articles that I have tried, in keeping with my belief in broad and open dialogue, to represent voices from the left, center and right.
You can watch full recordings of some of the most important sessions here:
Both major English-language versions of Israeli newspapers offer thoughtful overviews of the conference, here at Ha’aretz, and here at The Jerusalem Post. In particular, I read the Jerusalem Post piece as accurately portraying J Street as a centrist organization that is Pro-Israel and Pro-Peace, in favor of a two-state solution, but rightly also raises the issue of the presence of some who were further to the left at the conference, and recognizes the challenges facing J Street in trying to be too much of a broad tent while remaining effective in Washington.
For a truly wonderful service to the community, I thank Rachel Barenblat, who blogs as The Velveteen Rabbi, who wrote very complete reports on many of the sessions, without adding any additional commentary – outside of the vimeo videos posted by Isaac Luria, at the link already mentioned, her reports are the best way to hear almost first-hand what was said in these sessions.
There were many different voices present among the participants at J Street, including Muslim and Palestinian voices, primarily there because they were hopeful that they had found a partner for peace. As an illustration of how our willingness to listen to the voices that are never usually a part of a ‘Pro-Israel’ dialogue, I was particularly touched by this report from a Jewish participant’s encounter with a young Palestinian man from Gaza in the hallway during a break:
And, in the interest of balance so that we can hear the voice of concern for J Street’s position, this article from Ynet news makes some powerful arguments:
The Jewish Week (NYC Jewish newspaper) also provide an excellent summary of the spread of perspectives in view at the conference, the great successes of the conference, and the questions and challenges ahead.
Of particular interest to Reform Jews will be the dialogue plenary between Jeremy Ben-Ami, Director of J Street, and Rabbi Eric Yoffie, President of the Union for Reform Judaism. On all of the substantive and strategic questions, the two seemed largely in agreement. They differed on some details – such as the appropriate response to the Goldstone Report on Operation Cast Lead in Gaza. These differences are not irrelevant but, in terms of the larger, strategic goal of a two-state solution, positions on the settlements, and the status of Jerusalem, there was substantial agreement.
Finally, one of the main topics of debate in the plenary sessions was dialogue about what it meant to be ‘Pro-Israel and Pro-Peace’. I would agree with a number of commentators who felt that, among the participants, some who were present might have been ‘Pro Peace’ but may well have fallen outside of any parameter that we could really call ‘Pro Israel’. I believe that they were in the minority, and I believe that the excellent speakers on the panels and the representatives of J Street themselves did a very good job of explaining why the particular policies that they support truly are both ‘Pro Peace’ and ‘Pro Israel’ – that these things can co-exist.
What I heard presented by several analysts, Israelis who have been engaged in high level diplomacy, and members of the Knesset, was that there are only a limited number of options to consider. The best solution for both Israel and the Palestinian people is a two-state solution, with two peoples living in peace side by side. The ynet article referenced above gives good voice to the security concerns that Israel has about trusting that path forward. I understand those fears, and I do share them. However, what many of the expert voices expressed at the J Street conference was a clear understanding of the alternative. While some might think it is possible to maintain the status quo indefinitely, with military power, borders and fences, continuing to expand settlements in the absence of a final proposal for peaceful resolution, the reality is that this approach is unsustainable. Many at the conference expressed its undesirability from a human rights perspective and, while I don’t debate the validity of many of their concerns, I am persuaded even by those who offer only a pragmatic analysis of the situation.
There is deep concern that, in the absence of renewed progress toward a two state solution, that there will be growing Arab and international support for a one-state solution; simply to allow the situation to continue until it becomes clear that there is an Arab, Palestinian majority when Gaza, Israel, and the West Bank are considered together. At that point, if Israel is to remain a democratic state that gives equality to all, it cannot sustain itself as a Jewish state. The alternative is for a minority to rule over a majority, and Israel risks losing the support of the international community in a way that could seriously jeopardize its viability were that to be the case.
This is why we must not delay in continuing to push both sides to engage in an ongoing peace process. Shlomo Ben Ami, Former Israeli Minister of Foreign Affairs and Public Security, in a panel that looked at the need for a regional approach to making peace, believes that the political infrastructure does not exist in either Israel or the Palestinian territories for these two parties to do this alone; ongoing engagement from the US government and Arab nations who have offered the normalization of relations with Israel as an important end-goal too, is absolutely necessary. I believe he is right, and this is why J Street’s contribution to seeking peace in the Middle East has the potential to be of such ongoing importance.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz