The Z Word - Yom Kippur 5785
10/12/2024 12:00:00 AM
I was 16 years old the very first time I landed at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. It was the summer of 2002, still in the midst of the Second Intifada. The previous summer, that same Israel trip was cancelled due to violence and the concern that the program couldn’t keep the teens safe. The summer prior to that, 1500 teens from across Canada and the United States spent five life-changing weeks touring Israel, visiting ancient ruins, meeting with people, praying together on Shabbat, learning about the history and culture of the country, overall having an amazing time.
As for my trip, there were ten of us. In total. Ten teens from the U.S. and Canada who were determined to make this trek across the world. Ten of us who wanted to spend 5 weeks learning, growing, experiencing, and enjoying Israel. Ten of us whose parents agreed, some reluctantly, some without a second thought, to send us thousands of miles away to explore our personal connection to Israel.
An active member of NFTY, the North American Federation of Temple Youth, and long-time camper at Greene Family Camp since the age of 8, I couldn’t have imagined NOT going to Israel the summer before 11th grade. It didn’t occur to me that perhaps visiting a country dealing with tremendous violence may not be safe. I’m not sure what my parents thought about sending me, but they asked if I wanted to go and I probably said something like, “Duh! Of course I want to go!”
So off I went, first stopping in Prague and Poland to learn about those Jewish communities. We traveled to Auschwitz and Birkenau with a survivor from that very camp. She shared her personal story, touring us around through her eyes, remembering vividly what that treacherous place looked like to her decades before. Then we departed the next day for Israel.
During those 4 weeks, we got to know the land, the people, the food (especially the food), the culture, the sites, the history, the nature, and more. Because there were only 10 of us, we bonded rather quickly. And NFTY set us up with a special treat; 10 Israelis who were the same age joined us for 2 weeks of our trip! We became so close and to this day, I am still in touch with some of them.
My first trip to Israel solidified something within me: I am a proud Zionist. I didn’t know exactly what it meant until I actually went to the country, but after immersing myself in the land, several bodies of water, and most especially, with the people, I grew a deep and profound connection to Israel.
Since that trip, I have lived in Israel twice. I have visited several times. The list of people I know there grows yearly. I have gone years without returning, but each trip feels like I’m returning home. Or more precisely, as Muki Jankelowitz once said, “The first time you go to Israel it is like you are coming home. Every time after that it is like you are entering a wonderful place you have never seen before.” There was even a brief time when I considered making Aliyah, but that was fleeting. I can’t be that far from my parents.
Much like many other Jewish kids, I grew up learning about Israel in religious school and at synagogue programs. But the most impactful learning was through camp. I had Israeli counselors and specialists who told me about the various cities, Kibbutzim, and regions they came from. They talked about their army service and how they gave back to the country that had given them so much. They shared stories about their families and how many of them were 3rd and 4th generation to Israel. Some came from Holocaust survivors. All had a deep love of Israel.
Their passion inspired me. It made me want to learn more. But as the years went by, it became increasingly difficult to get news that didn’t feel so one- sided, news that wasn’t so biased.
Once I traveled to Israel and saw for myself firsthand what this country was all about, who the people really were, I fell in love. It’s certainly not perfect. It has bad drivers (much like here), not every shawarma stop will make you feel great after you’ve eaten it, and some of the people can be, well, passionate about their opinion. All jokes aside, Israel struggles with some of the same issues we deal with, including racism, misogyny, religious persecution of anyone who isn’t Orthodox, and a multitude of political challenges.
I still love Israel, knowing that each of these issues and more exist. I am still a Zionist. How can I say that? How can I possibly stand here and make such a claim? It’s how I can also stand here and say I am proud to be an American, though I disagree with a great deal of what goes on here, especially in state-level politics. I am still proud to be an American even when participating in protests against abortion bans and attending rallies that call for changes to governmental policies. I am still proud to be an American even when I see numerous challenges within our infrastructure and know that I can do my part by speaking out and voting.
Loving a country, whether it is the United States or Israel, does not preclude you from criticizing it, questioning it, arguing with it, or even being angry with it. Because I love Israel and the United States, because I am deeply invested in their futures and their people; I stand in support, warts, and all. I do so because I want these countries to be strongholds of peace, exemplary to the world. I criticize the direction we’re headed in because I know we can be better for all the people who dwell within the borders of these lands. And I believe it’s far more of an issue if you CAN’T criticize these places. If that were the case, I’d be concerned we were living in a dictatorship, rather than a democracy…
I may have answered the question as to why I support Israel, but it leads to an even bigger question; one I and millions of others have grappled with during this past year: What exactly is Zionism? What is the precise definition? Recently, this question was posed on a rabbinic forum and even there, the answers varied widely. And each definition faced intense questioning from fellow colleagues. It’s nearly impossible to accurately articulate what Zionism is actually about when the views on this subject are so extensively debated.
When I searched for a singular definition of Zionism on the internet, I was impressed by the spectrum of answers. There are some overlapping results, including phrases such as “movement to establish a Jewish state,” or “homeland to the Jewish people.” One particular definition caught me completely off-guard. The University of Michigan states, “Zionism, or Jewish nationalism, is a modern political movement. Its core beliefs are that all Jews constitute one nation (not simply a religious or ethnic community) and that the only solution to anti-Semitism is the concentration of as many Jews as possible in Palestine/Israel and the establishment of a Jewish state there.”1
My personal understanding of Zionism did not incorporate language or ideologies associated with every single Jew returning to the land of Israel. Sure, there are those who strongly believe we should all make Aliyah and populate this tiny piece of the planet to further the Zionist dream. But I would argue that most Diaspora Zionists are perfectly content to love and support Israel without physically residing there.
Additionally, I think about the different views of Zionism within the Jewish community, specifically among the different branches of Judaism. Jews have contended with anti-Semitism for our entire existence. It has ebbed and flowed throughout the course of history, but never fully dissipating, never completely leaving the backs of our minds or that of our foes. When the European Enlightenment began in the 18th Century, anti-Semitism once again rose. Jews were not part of this enlightenment. They were opposed to change, to embracing new ideals and modern technologies. They did not evolve with the times. They were different.
As Reform Judaism took root in the early to mid-19th Century, the ever- present problem of anti-Semitism continued to overwhelm the Jews of the world. Reform Judaism began in part to combat those pervasive issues. If we looked, talked, and acted more like the people in the countries in which we resided, they couldn’t still hate us, right?
Wrong. Anti-Semitism continued throughout the 19th and 20th Centuries, despite our assimilation, despite our desire to be viewed as equal and deserving citizens, despite the significant changes we made to our religious practices and rituals. Because of this, the argument for a Jewish state arose. Theodor Herzl, the man who created the concept and ideology of Zionism, wrote a pamphlet in 1896 entitled “Der Judenstaat” or “The Jewish State” explaining this idea. He wrote, “We have sincerely tried everywhere to merge with the national communities in which we live, seeking only to preserve the faith of our fathers. It is not permitted us.”2
So, when the early Reformers were faced with the question of Zionism, you might think they would welcome the opportunity to live in a place that embraces all Jews, every tradition, and every language. And yet, the early Reformers rejected Zionism. They rejected the notion of Jewish nationalism, which they passionately believed Zionism represented. And as Reform Judaism bloomed in the United States, the leadership of the movement pushed against the desire of European Jews to establish a Jewish state in the land known as Palestine. In fact, many seemed to view America as the new Zion.
In 1903, the president of Hebrew Union College, Kaufman Kohler, vehemently opposed Zionism and wanted the future rabbis of the Reform movement to as well. He outwardly spoke against this, including these remarks from a public speech:
The College should have a thoroughly American character. The students should endeavor to be imbued with the American spirit, and this includes the mastery of English diction. Neo-Hebraic Literature may be a necessity for Russian Jews who have no genuine national literature from which to derive culture and idealism. For us the English literature is a source of culture and enlightenment; wherefore Neo-Hebraic Literature will be abolished here (p. 59).3
Things shifted in the 20th Century. The Reform Movement continued to struggle with the notion of Jewish nationalism, or in their minds Zionism, but not nationalism, specifically because of their intense and fierce support of America. They did not want to be othered anymore and in their pro- American mentality, they wouldn’t be oppressed or brutalized if they were as American as the person sitting next to them. But after the Holocaust, it became clear that the survival of the Jewish people became paramount.
As the world continued to change following the brutality and horrors of the Holocaust, the emotional and physical need for Jewish safety became clear. Even Reform leaders began to understand this need, knowing that the security they felt in the United States wasn’t sufficient. They soon realized the compromise to Zionism, nationalism, and affection for America was about balance. As Abba Hillel Silver stated in the CCAR Yearbook of 1935, “Nation, race, land, language were always vital and indispensable concepts in Jewish life, indissolubly associated of course with religion. It was never the case of one or the other. They were all one, organically united.”4
Today, the Reform Movement appears torn on the question of Zionism. Are we Jewish nationalists if we support Israel, and is that inherently a negative thing? Is this a case of particularism versus universalism? Can we care about others when it appears that we only care about Israel? Can you be a Zionist and worry and fret about the safety and security of those who aren’t Jewish, those who don’t live in Israel? Can you claim a Zionist identity
It seems like such a simple question. And yet today, the word “Zionist” has become weaponized. It’s divisive. "Zionism” is a bad word. If a person states support for Israel or Zionism, they are often immediately branded as radical, as someone who supports genocide, as heartless and cold to the plight of innocent people. But the truth lies in the very meaning of Zionism.
Earlier I shared that the number of definitions vary widely. No matter the definition, none of them say anything about disregard for people who aren’t Jewish. They don’t include language about murdering people to further the ideology. They do not declare that, for Israel to exist, others must suffer. What they do state, quite clearly, is that Zionism is about establishing a place for Jews to exist without persecution from others.
I am a Zionist and my heart breaks for the Palestinians living in Gaza. This war is not with Gaza, but with Hamas, the terrorist organization that rules the people of Gaza with an iron fist and unrelenting will to obliterate Israel and the Jewish people, both in Israel and around the world. It is a war with all terrorist groups, including Hezbollah and the Houthis, and any entity whose charter includes the elimination of Israel and Jews. As a Zionist, I believe in the future of all humanity living together peacefully. This means Israelis, Palestinians, Jews, non-Jews, Christians, Muslims, areligious and non-religious folk, Arab, Armenian, new immigrants, multi-generation citizens, those who fled from countries of oppression, those who came with joy and excitement, any person who wants to live in the land of Israel. That is precisely how Israel was founded. It’s written into the Declaration of Independence.
Just as those who came to the United States sought freedom and an ability to live their lives to the fullest, so too did the Halutzim, the pioneers who made the Negev Desert bloom. They toiled in swamps, fighting mosquitoes, malaria, and other maladies. They fought against a desert that was dry as a bone, completely unable to yield produce. They found ways to grow and thrive and flourish in the worst conditions, all so that Jews from around the world could have a safe place to live. And they welcomed those who wanted to join, whether they were Jewish or not.
Zionism was created to ensure the survival of the Jewish people, because frankly, we may not have survived without it. Even with the establishment of Israel, we still have had to claw and fight our way out of far too many attacks from our neighbors. Yet we’ve endured because our spirit cannot and will not be broken. The resilience of our people is breathtaking. The strength of our will to survive and thrive knows no bounds.
I am proud to be a Zionist. I am proud to be a Jew who believes in Israel’s right to exist and its self-determination. I am proud to be a human who cares deeply for the well-being of others, who is devoted to building peace for all people. I am all these things and stand firmly in my beliefs. Zionism is all these things as well, if only people knew what it truly meant. At a time when we find ourselves divided over this issue, we must find ways to open ourselves up to having conversations about Zionism; real, honest, and courageous discussions.
Whether we identify as Zionists or not, or if we are unsure where we stand on the topic, we need to do our own research. We cannot just read the sources we prefer or the ones we’re familiar with; we must be prepared to learn from every side of this issue. And no, social media is absolutely not a reliable resource. I am open to learning more from those who do not identify as Zionists, and I pray they will be open to learning from me as well. That willingness and openness will lead us to a more understanding and more united community.
And don’t forget to vote in the upcoming WZO election so that you can ensure there is a progressive Jewish voice in Israel which supports our values. Not sure what that is? No worries; you’ll be hearing a lot more about it in the coming months. Can’t wait that long? My dad is here today and he’s in charge of the Reform movement’s voting block and he’d be more than happy to speak with you about it.
As we enter this new year, may we work toward creating a world of wholeness, a world in which all people live peacefully, equitably, justly, and lovingly. May we do so with in-depth knowledge, hearts open to others, and the desire to work together to ensure that our people continue to flourish for generations to come. Ken Yihi Ratzon, be this God’s will. Amen.
1 chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://lsa.umich.edu/content/dam/cmenas- assets/cmenas-documents/unit-of-israel-palestine/Section1_Zionism.pdf
2 Herzl, Theodor. “Der Judenstaat.” 1896.
3 “A Centennial History: A Theological School for Reform Judaism”
4 Abba Hillel Silver, “Central Conference of American Rabbis Yearbook,” 1935.