The Virtues of a Crowd

A Crowd, South Korean-style

This Sunday evening, we had a special program in Ashqelon.  A troupe of a couple hundred South Koreans came to mingle with the locals and put on a spectacular show.  Actually, two shows:  the first was a sing-along of Hebrew songs of praise to Hashem, which got the Israelis dancing and smiling; the second was a bigger production, a celebration of Korean culture and the world-view that Israel sits at the center of significance for Koreans of the Christian faith.

Many of Ashqelon's residents who attended the show, were overwhelmed.  While I heard only praise for it, some wondered if it had been over-done.  But I was thinking about it afterwards.  Koreans, and Asians in general, respond positively to the big spectacle.  Their cultures do not celebrate the individual as Western culture does, rather the virtue of the collective.  But Israel is, in that respect, very Western.

Dukhanen - the Priests offering the Blessing - at
the Western Wall

But, wait!  Tomorrow (Wednesday), there will be a huge gathering at the Western Wall in Jerusalem, where dozens - perhaps hundreds - of Cohanim will together bless the nation.  Thousands will be on hand to witness the spectacle.

And then of course, there's the original mass spectacle which we celebrate with this festival of Shavuot:  the giving of the Torah.  That was also an occasion when the entire people Israel - by some counts perhaps 2.5 million souls - was assembled.  This factor is the reason why, not only to religious authorities but to historians as well - all agree that something of great significance happened at Sinai, and that it is burned into the collective Jewish conscience forever.

In that spirit, despite that it did seem a bit overdone, I would submit that the spectacle of Sunday night's show should be taken as evidence of the sincerity of the Korean people in their ahavat Yisrael - their love of Israel.

A joyous Shavuot to all!

On Realpolitick and Peace

President Obama's reception in Saudi Arabia, 2014

The week before last, I was on a flight from London to Denver and seated next to a young man who seemed pleasant, but until the end of the flight we had almost no interaction.  Not surprising:  nowadays passengers on especially long flights tend to bury themselves in their in-seat media - or their own electronic devices that they've brought on board - and interact with one another far less than passengers tended to a generation or so ago.  But in the last hour of the flight, when the I-94's (customs and immigration declaration) were passed out, the young man turned to me for help.  He was Saudi Arabian, a high school student coming to the USA to stay with an American family for half a year as an exchange student.  His English was very basic, too basic for him to fill out the I-94 without assistance.  So I helped him, responding in kind to his pleasantness.  Even though I'm no fan of his country, especially given its intractable stance towards Israel, I tried to see the kid as just a human being who was feeling some anxiety over the relative-minor challenge of filling out a US government form.

President Trump's Reception in Saudi Arabia, 2017

I was thinking of the encounter this weekend, when President Trump went calling on the Saudis.  In addition to the very real (and I think, valid) gripes I have concerning the Saudis' behavior vis-a-vis Israel, I have a hard time seeing the Saudis as anything more than opportunists, wanting to hide behind American power while holding values that are anathema to us.

All this aside, it was hard for me not to take delight in the sort of reception that the Saudis gave the US President, not to mention his entourage which included his Jewish daughter and son-in-law (the latter especially, Jared Kushner, being well-known for his pro-Israel views.)  As we remember, Trump's detractors frequently call him an Islamophobe, and accuse him of sowing hatred towards Muslims and the Islamic world.

Well, either his Saudi hosts didn't read those opinion pieces, or they are too smart to take them seriously - and I suspect it's the latter.  It is very telling that the 81-year-old Saudi monarch, King Salman bin Abdulaziz, endured triple-digit temperatures (fahrenheit) to greet President Trump and his entourage on the tarmac at King Khalid International Airport.

The Right Wing media is awash in pictorial contrasts between the grandiose and extremely warm reception accorded POTUS 45, and the decidedly tepid greeting given President Obama, his immediate predecessor.  This, despite that Obama was seen as being extremely sympathetic and deferential towards the Islamic world - so much so that many reasonable people have wondered if he's a 'closet' Muslim - while Trump is seen by some as an Islamphobe who supposedly wants to rid America of all Muslims.  Although I generally have no taste for political statements via meme, I think the contrast is important and telling.   

And let's not forget also, the reception accorded Trump when he spoke to the conference of leaders from Arab and Islamic countries, on Sunday night.  Did any of them turn their backs, or walk out when Trump spoke?  Of course not.  If Trump is a Muslim-hater, that information somehow didn't reach this crowd either.

Instead, the leaders at the conference in Riyadh listened respectfully to what Trump had to say, because he was addressing an issue of mutual concern:  Radical Islamic Terror of the kind fomented by Iran, which country scares the bejeezus out of them.

(I experienced this myself years back, when I spent five months in Qatar in 2006.  I wondered why the tiny Gulf Emirate, sponsor of the anti-western cable network Al Jazeera, allowed the US and allies to use their country as an operational base for running Operation Iraqi Freedom, including the launching of strike missions from their soil.  Well, I got an earful of why, on the few occasions when I managed to have a conversation with a Qatari:  whether they agreed with our Iraq policies or not, they wanted us in the neighborhood to keep Iran in check.  Iran, not the US, is the enemy they fear.)

This illustrates a great paradox of statecraft.  A leader who is seen as strong, proud of his own country, and forthright even if that means that he says things that uncomfortable to others, is respected and is far more able to engage than a weak leader who is seen as fawning and/or insincere.  Trump is clearly seen in other world capitals as the former, while POTUS 44 was the latter.  Whether we particularly like the Saudis, or they us, or not, it doesn't especially matter as long as we respect one another and can work together towards our common interests.

One of those common interests is, of course, the realization of peace between Israel and her Palestinian neighbors.  As long as the US President was seen as the local policeman, forcing Israel to conform to his particular vision of how to make peace with no clear indication that it would get the Palestinian leadership to make any kind of confidence-building moves themselves, he was an impediment to peace - far more than the 'illegal' Israeli 'settlements.'  Perhaps President Trump, despite all the scorn heaped upon him by his detractors who see him as in way above his head, DOES have a real chance to make a difference in helping this festering part of the world to solve its problems.  Given the spectacular welcomes he received this week, first in Saudi Arabia and then in Israel, perhaps he isn't as clueless and without substance as some think him.  At least, let's give him a chance and see.

On Plagues and Bonfires

Allow me to apologize in advance for next week.  I will be on vacation and will probably not be able to post in this blog.

There's never a dull moment in Israel; there's always something special going on!  Last week we had the consecutive-day observances of Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day) and Yom Ha'atzama'ut (Independence Day) keeping us busy.  This week, once Shabbat had ended, I noticed bonfires being lit every evening, all over Ashqelon.  What's the occasion?  The minor holiday of Lag Ba'omer will be this coming Sunday, and apparently many of the locals don't wish to wait.

(I call Lag Ba'omer a 'minor holiday' not to say it isn't important.  That designation refers to there being no prohibitions on work on that day, as there are on the 'major' holidays.)

Lag Ba'omer refers to the 33rd day of the Omer.  The latter is a counting of the days from the second day of Pesach, through the day before Shavu'ot: 49 days total, or a 'week' of weeks.  Strictly speaking, the Omer originated in a daily grain offering brought to the temple during the seven weeks leading up to the festival of Shavu'ot (which name means 'weeks.')  Since we don't have a Temple to which to bring offerings today, we remember the practice with the 'offering' of counting the days.  Many contemporary spiritual leaders use the Counting of the Omer as an opportunity to offer daily lessons for spiritual growth for their followers.  In the last two years, I responded to a challenge from a member of my congregation in Australia, to post a daily challenging thought for the period of the Omer; you can find the postings on my old blog, rabbidoninoz.blogspot.com.  Since I'm in retirement (or at least, a semi-retirement) I decided not to continue the practice this year.

Another aspect of the period of the Counting of the Omer, is that it is a period of semi-mourning.  In antiquity, 24,000 of the students of the great sage, Rabbi Akiva, died of a plague during the first 32 days of the Omer.  The plague ceased on the 33rd day, leaving Akiva with five surviving students.  One of those was Shim'on Bar Yochai, who in traditional circles is credited as the author of the Zohar, the most important book of Jewish mysticism.  Lag Ba'omer (Lamed Gimel is the equivalent of 33 in Jewish Gematria) was ultimately the Hilula (Yahrzeit, or death-day) of Bar Yochai.  In Jewish tradition, the death-day of great figures is actually celebrated after a time:  a celebration of that person's contributions.  Since Bar Yochai is credited with the Zohar, you can understand why his Yahrzeit is a particularly joyous occasion.  Anyway, many traditionalist Jews observe the various customs of mourning during the Counting of the Omer.  For example, they will not play joyous music, dance, shave, cut their hair, or get married.  But on Lag Ba'omer, a big party is called for and all mourning is stopped.  But why are bonfires lit?  Because Bar Yochai's legacy left a great light to illuminate the path of righteousness for Jews throughout eternity.

Contemporary Israelis are as impatient as any other people!  Therefore, bonfires are popping up all over, in advance of the holiday.  Perhaps they're for my benefit, since I won't be here in Israel on Sunday.  Hey, you never know!    

The I-Thou Relationship and Bridging Political (and other) Gaps

Martin Buber

Many of us have a special friend with whom we meet regularly, and with whom we spend time "solving the world's problems...even though nobody asked us."  I quote that expression from Stan Lacey, z"l, a member of my congregation in Australia.  He had such a friend, whom he called 'Doctor George.'  I've got such a friend here in Israel, Alan, a fellow oleh from the USA but who has been here many years, and is considerably older than me.  We meet every Friday; sometimes we go for a walk and sit at a cafe, sometimes we just sit in one of our homes, and we solve the world's problems...even though nobody asked us.

Last time we met, Alan asked me if there were any particular books I've read, that were especially memorable.  I answered, without hesitation, that I and Thou by Martin Buber was not only memorable, but life-changing.  And Alan agreed; he allowed as how Martin Buber's little epistle had been formative for him, too.

I want to write about two things today:  the affect of I and Thou and the way to bridge political gaps.  And in reality, they're both related.

I and Thou, once you get past Buber's use of the specific language of philosophy, challenges us in all our relationships, to see the relationship as an end in itself.  Most of us, if we're honest, are rather utilitarian about most of our relationships; we enter them, and stay in them, because we believe the Other will provide us with something.  In the way that, when we enter a store, a sales associate whom we encounter, will provide us with a means to find and buy the product we went in for.  That associate becomes, in effect, an object for our desire/need to acquire that item.  This type of relationship, as usually played out, is what Buber calls I-It, where the associate is an it, no more than an object.

A relationship between a sales associate and a customer, is generally a most superficial and short-lived relationship.  But we tend to approach even our most potentially enduring relationships as I-It.  Not that we think about it much, if at all.  But we tend to go through life, looking for individuals who have something we want, and build relationships, the premise of which is that we might get that which we seek.

The way that we deepen our relationships is to transform them to Buber's I-Thou model, where the Other becomes an entity which needs no justification of utilitarian purpose.  Under this model, we don't seek out partners in relationships who have something specific to offer.  Rather, we form relationships naturally with whomever we encounter as each person is an entity needing no justification for their existence or their presence in our lives.

If this sounds like just a lot of mumbo-jumbo, I recommend you spend the next few weeks trying it.  Every time you encounter someone else, even in the most superficial of circumstances, think of them as a subject, not an object.  Look into their eyes and allow yourself to feel empathy - identification - with that person and whatever their circumstances are.  And see how much more meaningful and satisfying your relationships become.  When I first read I and Thou years ago, I took its message to heart and worked to put it into effect in my life.  And it was transformative.

What was interesting was that, after discussing I and Thou with Alan, I realized that our relationship was special precisely because it is an I-Thou relationship.  And out of this realization comes my second lesson of the day, which is really a result of the first.

When we pursue I-It relationships, a profound difference between the two principles will usually lead to an effort to 'proselytize' the Other, to bring him or her over to your side on whatever divides you.  If that fails - as it generally does - then that relationship is easily disposable.  Of course, the word 'proselytize' comes from religion, but we proselytize in other areas as well.  Like politics.  People often say that they keep religion and politics out of conversations, and thus keep their conversations pleasant.  And yet, it seems unnatural to build a fence around some subject just to avoid disagreement.  What they aught to try, is to keep proselytizing about religion, politics, or whatever out of their conversations.  Because someone to whom you proselytize, in effect becomes an object, and your relationship with him or her becomes I-It.  So, when the proselytization fails, there's nothing left of the relationship.  And you might miss out on a very meaningful relationship, simply because you and that person disagreed on something.

That's how it is with my friend Alan, the conversation with whom reminded me of I and Thou, and of the I-Thou relationship.  There's a wide gulf between us in one area:  in this case politics, in that Alan is a man of the Left and I'm more Right-of-Center.  And yet, when we met one another, instead of seeing that gulf immediately as something to 'work on' in the sense of convincing the Other over to my side, each of us realized that we have far more in common.  Because neither of us sees the other as an object, our conversations - and yes, we do talk about politics regularly! - do not take on the quality of proselytizing.  Instead, we share our ideas without any thought of changing the Other's mind.  And it works.

I offer this, because I think it is very timely.  Right now, in both the countries that mean so much to me, there are particularly deep divisions that tend to alienate one citizen from another, based solely on one's particular stance on one issue.  We caricature others based on some ideological test.  And as a result, we miss out on seeing things that we have in common.  And we miss out on potential relationships that could be deep and satisfying and life-changing.