Prime Minister Netanyahu and U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry at their Meeting in Jerusalem (photo: Kobi Gideon/GPO)

1. Some time during the month of June, U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry is expected to announce whether he will be able to reach a breakthrough in the Israeli-Palestinian diplomatic process. Two (out of three) months have passed since President’s Obama trip to Israel and Ramallah, and Kerry’s mission seems to have met a brick wall. Meaningful negotiations are nowhere nearer than they were last year or the year before. In fact, if there is one thing both Israelis and Palestinians agree about, it is the unlikelihood of a breakthrough.

Kerry just concluded another trip to the region, and due to the lack of progress he won’t be coming back in the next couple of weeks. His current visit was conducted under the shadow of the Israeli decision to recognize four new Jewish outposts in the occupied territories – a decision that strayed farther than any previous government from Israel’s commitment to the Bush administration to remove all new outposts and refrain from recognizing new settlements.

On Friday, Kerry held a press conference at Ben Gurion International Airport, in which he refused to provide a deadline for his efforts or go into any specifics vis-a-vis the positions of both parties (the full transcription of the press conference can be found here). Kerry also praised both parties for their desire for peace and warned against giving in to cynicism. He promised to continue his efforts, no matter what hurdles he will encounter.

Many people believe that there is a need to project such “optimism,” and nobody likes to be the bearer of bad news. However, what this moment calls for, more than anything else, is some honesty. Kerry would have done his own cause justice if he simply stated that there is no peace process, nor has there been one in recent times, and that the current trends on the ground are likely to continue in the foreseeable future.

Such statement would have forced the Israeli public – or at least parts of it – to seriously asses the long-term implications of its government’s policies. Furthermore, it would have saved what is left of the administrations credibility as a broker in this conflict, and it would have forced other states and agencies to reevaluate their relations and level of cooperation with what has become a permanent occupation. Donors to the Palestinian Authority would have to decide whether they want to continue financing what is now an arm of the Israeli administration. Moreover, companies would have to answer for their profits from the status quo. All of the above would become an enormous incentive for change.

Instead, what Kerry is doing – and with him, all those who support his mission or at least pay lip service to it – is providing everyone involved with an alibi for inaction. He is now a part of the problem he is complaining about.

2. At the Ben Gurion Airport press conference, Kerry was twice asked about the four outposts Israel decided to recognize retroactively. He gave the same response the Obama administration has been giving ever since it was “humbled” (as Peter Beinart calls it in his book) by the pro-Israeli lobby’s attack on the president in 2010:

… our position on settlements and outposts and on the legalization is that we are opposed to it. We believe that that is not appropriate, and, in fact, is not constructive in the context of our efforts to move forward. But it should not be something, as I just said, that prevents us from being able to get to negotiations.

And elsewhere:

As I’ve said, we are trying to get to talks without pre-conditions. We do not want to get stuck in a place where we are arguing about a particular substantive issue that is actually part of a final settlement, and that argument takes you so long that you never get to the negotiations that bring about the final settlement.

A word about the notion of “no pre-conditions”: when an American or an Israeli official uses this phrase, what he/she actually means is “no pre-conditions for Israel,” since both Israel and the administration pose many pre-conditions for the Palestinians. The most basic ones are to abandon armed struggle (both in action and as a formal policy) and to recognize Israel. This is, after all, the reason Hamas is kept out of the political process. At the same time, Israel was never asked to formally recognize the Palestinians’ right to this land, nor has its government ever voted in favor of the two-state solution nor demanded that a settlement freeze last more than a brief moment.

The Palestinians have agreed to all the Israeli/American pre-conditions. In exchange, their only demand is that talks be meaningful – in other words, that certain territorial principles be established – otherwise the entire thing is a waste of both time and political capital (even this simple principle has been abandoned by the U.S.). Under such circumstances, even if Kerry is able to force Abbas into talks, no serious process can take place.

Related:
Secretary of State John Kerry: 12-18 months before two-state solution is ‘over’
Barring breakthrough in peace talks, EU to label all settlement products
Confronting our tyrants: Incarceration and torture in Palestinian prisons

By Talal Alyan

Around 200 protesters march to the Muquata, the Palestinian Authority (PA) headquarters, to protest against the latests wave of political arrests made by the Palestinian Authority, Ramallah, October 2, 2012. (photo: Activestills)

“The image before the return of the PLO was the image of the freedom fighter/ Now here is that same freedom fighter (chained with the conditions of his enemies), exercising his direct authority on the ordinary citizen, on the old men, on the students.” – Mourid Barghouti 

Palestinian Authority (PA) security forces recently arrested Zaher Ash-Shashteery, a representative of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP). His alleged crime: he spoke out against the transgressions of the PA. Of course, it will come as no surprise to most Palestinians to learn about this arrest. We are all familiar with the constant human rights violations of both Hamas and the PA. We have all heard stories of protests being put down by Palestinian security forces, or of civilians being arbitrarily arrested and tortured.

It is a strange position that Palestinians find themselves in. Should we forfeit our grievances with these political powers and their cronies, and instead focus entirely on the ongoing occupation? Or should we reserve some of our effort to speak out against these ruling political factions? One main concern is that our complaints may be hijacked by sponsors of the occupation in order to divert attention from Israeli actions. This isn’t an unwarranted concern – the crisis in Syria, for instance, is often evoked to imply that we should not focus on the Israeli occupation, and that some injustices should be prioritized over others. For the same reasons that I reject this logic I also have to believe that we owe something to Palestinians languishing in the jails of Hamas and the PA. It is our responsibility to insist that their suffering not be secondary.

Arbitrary incarceration

The fear of being arrested suddenly and without charge by Israel is a frightening fact of life that most Palestinians, especially in the West Bank, have to live with. The psychological implications of going through your day knowing that you or loved one might be snatched at any moment will for generations torment the Palestinian psyche. Unfortunately, anxiety over Israeli arrest is further agitated by a fear of abduction at the hands of the PA or Hamas. Family members of those arrested are often given no information about where their loved ones are being taken, or for how long they will be held. Similarly, the incarcerated are commonly denied access to a lawyer for extended periods of time. The Palestinian Authority arbitrarily arrested 755 persons in the West Bank in 2011. The number itself is likely an underestimate, as it only includes complaints lodged to the Independent Commission for Human Rights. The number of complaints is almost assuredly curbed by fears of retaliation. In the two years before 2011, there were around 3,045 complaints of arbitrary detention filed with ICHR against the PA.

The situation in Gaza is no less grim, with 271 complaints lodged against Hamas in 2011. The fact that these figures are significantly lower than those in the West Bank is likely due to a heightened fear of reprisal from Hamas. ICHR received 1,789 complaints about arbitrary arrests in Gaza during 2009 and 2010. Palestinian law prohibits arrests without warrants except in extraordinary circumstances. However, Human Rights Watch notes that warrants are often issued after the individual has been already been arrested and detained an extended time period.

Torture

The torture of detained Palestinians is a common occurrence in both the West Bank and Gaza. Palestinian law strictly prohibits the employment of torture, as Article 13 of the Palestinian Basic Law dictates that any confessions or statement made during torture are to be considered “null and void.” Despite the clear illegality of evidence acquired by torture, confessions are often permitted in court cases and influence verdicts. Palestinians are also supposed to be given a medical examination prior to incarceration in order to establish the prisoner’s wellbeing before interrogation. However, the practice is rarely employed.

112 complaints about torture were filed with the ICHR against the PA in 2011, and Hamas was not far behind with 102 complaints filed. There were five documented deaths of Palestinians held in Hamas custody in 2011. It is worth reiterating that the listed number of individuals tortured by the PA and Hamas is most likely an underestimate. The ICHR notes the insistence on anonymity by most persons who register complaints – an indication of the concern most have about retaliation. In addition, Hamas prevents human rights workers from visiting individuals while they are being held, thereby preventing an assessment of ongoing torture. The torture methods range from beatings to mock executions, and the employment of electrical cables and strappado is also common.

Resisting all oppressors

The transgressions of the PA and Hamas do not excuse Israeli policy. They may be hijacked and exploited to conceal the occupation, but that possibility should not intimidate us into silence. Instead, it should stand as a testament to our consistency and our thirst for liberation – that we resist all forms of injustice.

It is often a misconception, believed by these authoritarian groups, that they can act with impunity under the guise of liberators. But if ever there was a commonality amongst Palestinians, a shared characteristic threading us together, it is our resentment of oppression. Hamas and the Palestinian Authority would do well to remind themselves of the endurance of Palestinian memory, and of our unwillingness to forgive subjugation regardless of the perpetrator.

Talal Alyan is a Palestinian freelance writer currently living in Syracuse, New York. He wishes to thank Nader Atassi for his advice and guidance.

Related:
Political persecution, torture as common practice and executions in Hamas-run courts
Human Rights Watch report on Hamas courts in Gaza
Palestinians and the Syrian Revolution: Lessons from the fight against fascism

By Avraham H. Muthada / Café Gibraltar

Khaju Bridge in Isfahan, Iran (Photo: Hamed Saber/CC)

I often find myself yearning for Iran. Despite the fact that my feet have never stepped there, my mouth has never tasted its water, my lips have not sipped from its goblet. There, in the diaspora, where the dream of the promised land still burned and echoed. The longing that was part of us even before man met women, a longing for what does not exist – for a borderless purity amongst humans. The mullah (rabbi) stands at the gate of the city during every holiday with complete devotion, his face tilted toward the West – toward the sea – mourning a hill of stones and broken memories, quietly praising and calling for Zion. In his mind’s eye he sees the tribes of Israel and the Land of Judea and the Mediterranean – there he shall not pass.

My father shrinks into the blue, fur arm chair and sinks into a song of homesickness for a homeland left behind. “My Iran, my life and soul.” He glances upward, imagining the pathways of his childhood, weaving together notes and letters to form a pearl necklace of suffering. He is motionless. Like a national monument, he collects remnants of moments and gives them vitality. Soon his eyes will open and a sigh will leave his mouth.

“I am like a victim of your land / and helpless without you / every beat of my heart is the whispering of Iran,” the singer eulogizes the homeland, and my father continues, “Without you my home is full of sorrow / every moment is grief, the distance drives me mad / God knows that this world is a prison without you / life is dark and cold.” Indeed, Iran is the homeland of many expatriates, not all of them Muslims. Different religions, tribes and cultures are tied together to the forgotten homeland which has been painted black and white.

No other homeland

The task of wandering to a distant homeland was commanded of us, even before we became a nation, in one sentence that changed our fate: “Go from your homeland and the homeland of your father to a country that I shall reveal to you.” And here, thousands of years later, I wonder to myself, as Jews who returned to our homeland, aren’t we supposed to feel an even stronger connection to nature, to humans, to the living and the air around us? Our hearts have been filled with songs of the homeland and love for the Land of Israel, built by the fearless pioneers who sought to redeem the land of the swamps, ever since we were little. Are not the history and literature books full of songs of praise such as “Ein Li Eretz Aheret” (“I Have No Other Country”) and the famous “El Artzi” (“To My Land”), in which the Hebrew poet Rachel confesses that she did not do enough for her country.

Yoram Taharlev nicknamed it a “homeland with no shirt, a barefoot homeland.” Uzi Chitman called for “Eretz Ha’Tzabar,” (Land of the Tzabar) and even Aviv Geffen called it “Uri Ur.” But no, the promised land disappointed. Friends of mine who up until recently claimed “I love the country, not the state,” can now be found waiting in endless lines for a foreign passport, or at the very least a long-term visa. And like a beggar at the gates, divested of my memories and of the images of my forefather’s land, I am forced to bear a burden that is not my own. Creating a love for the homeland out of nothing, instead of creating new meaning for living in my country, Israel, through the eyes of my forefathers.

A letter of longing from Zion to Iran

Pain is the father of creation. It is woven into our being, into books, songs and prayers. Often I find myself incessantly switching stations on the radio, until I find an Arabic station and sink into the trills of the muezzin. Quarter tones, the deeply layered singing, carved out of a deep place of pain, remind me of the songs of my home.

“My heart wants to return to Isfahan…
I am still here, but my heart is there / all my prayers and desires are there.”

As a boy I loved the elegy for Isfahan, the birthplace of my parents, but I never wondered why. It is possible that I considered the city as holy as Jerusalem, where belief and holiness move us to a memory we have never experienced. I sit and stare into my father’s eyes. I am filled with jealousy as those eyes yearn for a homeland that was taken away, for the sounds that arise from the oblivion and fill the room. The glory of a faraway kingdom, stories of bravery about giants and ghosts who walk among humans. Stories about simple people and their simple lives. That same yearning for a homeland that prevails in my family excites me to the point that it seems as if it is inherited. Or perhaps they borrowed this trait from their Shi’ite neighbors, another persecuted minority who will one day reach salvation. Persian is a holy language to me – it empowers my mind and stimulates my creativity. Songs for Iran, which are sung by Iranian expats, those same songs I grew up on, penetrate my body and strum into my soul, despite not understanding most of the words.

MK Hanin Zoabi, with whom I do not see eye to eye, once claimed that Jews in Israel do not understand the love for a homeland. “Loving the homeland means loving and respecting its history and that of its indigenous people. One who loves his homeland does not cut down trees nor build ugly fences and does not ruin the natural view. This is not love, this is a project that says ‘we are the masters and we want to erase the other group that exists here’.” This is true. A homeland is not a piece of cultivated land, nor the object of a war for pride. Homeland is not nationalism. Love has no place where land is a tool for control. Homeland is an idea through which we mold our hopes and our most secret fears. It is an unconditional love.

My love for Zion and Jerusalem has nothing to do with blue and white and is not based in the history books of my childhood. Its origins lay in adopting the love for a homeland from my father. From Iran to Zion. From Isfahan to Jerusalem. There is an uncertainty about a father instilling forgotten love and continuity to his son. Like the poet Khalil Gibran wrote:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

This is the legacy I inherited from my father.

It is ironic that the land Abraham left for the Promised Land is the same land he misses while being in the Promised Land. Zion is my homeland, and I will love it forever. But every time that I direct my desire toward Jerusalem, the holiest of holies, I will slightly divert my eyes to Iran and tilt my head to hear the echoes of the mullah praying for the Land of Israel, that which he will never see.

Avraham H. Muthada is a writer and student of communications and journalism. This post first appeared in Hebrew on Café Gibraltar. 

It’s hard to read this news feature in today’s Haaretz and continue to believe that Israel, even if it were to end the occupation, is a worthy cause. The article is about a new Hebrew University study on philanthropy in this country and others:

In 2010, $575 billion was sent around the world for philanthropic purposes, but only $11 million came from Israel. According to figures from the past decade, 48 percent of charitable funds raised in Belgium were earmarked for international relief, compared with 38 percent in the Netherlands, 13 percent in Italy, 9 percent in Britain, 5 percent in the United States – and 0.1 percent in Israel. …

Not only do we Israelis, unlike people in other prosperous countries, give basically nothing to charity abroad, but at the same time we receive an ordinately huge amount of charity from the rest of the world. (By the way, the figures make it clear that the great bulk of that charity we got came from goyishe sources.)

The amount sent overseas by Israeli nonprofit groups in 2009 reached just NIS 107,000 – 0.1 percent of their revenues. In contrast, more than NIS 9.2 billion was received in Israel from donors and foundations abroad.

The most ironic (and, for a Jew, merciful) part of this story is that Diaspora Jews are world-renown for their philanthropy – and (to the enduring exasperation of stout-hearted Zionists) the large majority of it goes to non-Jewish causes. From a 2007 study of American Jewish philanthropy written up in the Jewish Journal of Los Angeles. (I couldn’t find figures for the rest of the Diaspora, but I imagine the picture there is about the same):

We examined about 50 of the largest and most prominent foundations established by Jews and looked at where they made their more than 8,000 grants in 2004 and 2005, the latest years for which comprehensive information is available.

The findings confirm our previous research: About 80 percent of the dollars they gave away went to general causes — higher education, health care, arts and culture, programs for the poor and elderly, the environment and more. About 20 percent went to Jewish causes, including 7 percent for Israel-related purposes.

Oh well. I don’t think these statistics need a lot of analysis for what they say about the way Israeli Jews see themselves in the world vs the way Diaspora Jews do, or about which way is good and which way is shitty. At any rate, though, thank you for your generosity, chaverim. The people of Israel are eternally grateful.

By Yesh Din, written by Yossi Gurvitz

About two weeks ago, A. was on his way from Hebron to Jerusalem. A is a resident of Abu Dis, and married to a resident of East Jerusalem; as such, he enjoys Israeli residency. But as he was about to find out, that didn’t help him all that much.

On his way home, A. passed through a checkpoint charmingly named “the humanitarian checkpoint,” where he ran into a surprise roadblock, manned by a mixed force of soldiers and border policemen. The soldiers asked A. to turn off his engine, leave the car, and hand them his papers. A. noted they spoke “poor Arabic.”

The soldiers first searched A. before searching his vehicle – they found nothing suspicious. But then the all-too-common occurrence turned surreal. A. says that two border policemen told him that he must speak Hebrew. A., who does not, denied it. The two began laughing, and then someone (A. was with his back to him, so he can’t say if it was a soldier or a policeman) held him from behind, handcuffed him, blindfolded him, put him in the vehicle and left him there.

The time of the year is May, and the days are hot. A., left blindfolded and handcuffed in the car, asked the person to speak with him in Arabic, saying he was in pain. There was no response, but A. remembers hearing them laughing. That’s the last thing he remembers from the incident.

A. woke up in a hospital in Hebron, after an IDF ambulance transfered him to a Red Crescent ambulance. A. reached the hospital in a state of total disorientation, likely as a result of dehydration and sunstroke. He was given a fluid infusion in the IDF ambulance.

A. is suspected of nothing. He was not detained. His vehicle was not confiscated but rather left near the checkpoint. A family member drove to the checkpoint and found the vehicle there. There, the family member asked the soldiers about the whereabouts of the vehicle’s owner. “The owner stopped the vehicle because he felt unwell,” they responded. A man handcuffs himself, blindfolds himself (what is that routine good for, except intimidating the detainee?) and climbs into a hot vehicle. Sounds reasonable.

A needless handcuffing is a kind of torture. A needless detainment is abuse of power. Think about how much noise would be made if an Israeli citizen were detained by soldiers or police officers, handcuffed without any reason or explanation, and placed in a hot vehicle where he loses consciousness. This happens to people who are Israeli residents, by armed Israeli men, without so much of a squeak. We’ve gotten used to that.

Written by Yossi Gurvitz in his capacity as a blogger for Yesh Din, Volunteers for Human Rights.

The IDF will allow Gaza fishermen to go beyond three-mile zone previously imposed on them and up to six miles into the Mediterranean Sea, it announced on Tuesday. Under the Oslo Accords, Gaza’s maritime boundaries stretch 20 nautical miles from shore. However, as a part of its blockade policy, Israel does not allow fishermen to travel beyond a narrow strip of three to six miles – an area which changes at the discretion of the government and defense minister.

The Gaza strip is one of the most densely populated areas in the world (see map below) and fishing constitutes an important source of food and employment for many.

The IDF Spokesperson’s announcement on Tuesday basically confirmed that the army collectively punishes Gazan fishermen for rockets launched from the Strip.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Minister of Defense Moshe (Bogie) Ya’alon, approved the expansion of the Gaza Strip’s designated fishing zone from three to six nautical miles. The designated fishing zone was limited due to rocket fire from the Gaza Strip toward southern Israel on March 21, 2013.

Recent attempts to launch rockets from the Strip have been carried out by tiny radical organizations that even Hamas has trouble to controlling. So why are Gaza’s fishermen being punished for it?

Related
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IDF: ‘Forbidden zone’ in Gaza three times larger than previously stated
‘Wars on Gaza have become part of Israel’s system of governance’: An interview with filmmaker Yotam Feldman

Gaza map and IDF imposed “forbidden zones” (by Gisha)

Palestinian kids from Gaza above the age of eight are still prohibited from visiting their parents – the same goes for grandchildren and siblings. There are over 500 prisoners – among them 14 minors – from Gaza held in Israel. Over 400 of them are “security inmates” and approximately 100 prisoners are “criminal inmates.”

Israeli human rights group B’Tselem has launched a campaign calling to allow full families visits to all Palestinian prisoners. Here is a short video with testimonies of children who have been prevented from meeting their fathers for several years now.

Related
Why does the IDF hold Gazan fishermen responsible for rocket launching?
IDF: ‘Forbidden zone’ in Gaza three times larger than previously stated
‘Wars on Gaza have become part of Israel’s system of governance’: An interview with filmmaker Yotam Feldman

By Roi Bachmutsky

PM Netanyahu speaks at Taglit-Birthright Mega Event, 6.1.11. More than 250,000 young Jews have come to Israel on Birthright since the program’s inception. (photo: Amos BenGershom, GPO)

Demonstrations in the East Jerusalem neighborhood of Sheikh Jarrah have come alive again as of this past Friday, aiming to show solidarity with the Shamasneh family who have appealed the impending eviction from their home. Unbeknownst to many, the struggle in Sheikh Jarrah reaches far beyond the borders of Jerusalem. In fact, it affects ethnic tensions half a world away by influencing how American Jewish youth internalize the separation between “us” and “them.”

“I was just having a really hard time,” one Jewish student at UC Berkeley told me, speaking of her experience at a Sheikh Jarrah protest she was invited to attend while traveling through Israel. “It was the first time I’d ever talked to a real Palestinian,” she explained, “… [he] doesn’t want to kill me, he tells me he likes some Israelis, it was just crazy.” She would later explain to me that upon reflection, she was “raised, not explicitly but at least very implicitly, with racism towards Arabs, and Palestinians in particular.” I asked whether she meant that she had never explicitly said the words: “I hate Arabs.” “Frankly,” she admitted to my surprise, “I probably did say that.” The Palestinian man she encountered at Sheikh Jarrah was evidently not at all whom she was expecting, but the question remains – how did she imagine her first encounter with a Palestinian and where did this conception come from?

I found my answer in the summer of 2011, when I attended a Taglit-Birthright Israel trip with 39 other Jewish young adults – the vast majority of whom were receiving their first glimpse of the Middle East. Before we even boarded the plane, our Birthright staff were quick to explain that “Israel is a safe place but there are people that want to hurt Jews there so we have to be very careful.” The notion that we were endangered tacitly followed us throughout the trip, from the daily reminder of our security guard’s loaded rifle to the staff’s insistence that participants refrain from venturing into Jerusalem’s Muslim Quarter. “It is very dangerous,” we were told.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu emphasized similar perils to thousands of Jewish youth at the Taglit-Birthright mega event in January of this year. “It’s our job to wake up the world,” he proclaimed, “… the great danger to the world is not from Jews building in our ancestral capital in Jerusalem. It’s from nuclear weapons in Iran… It’s chemical weapons in Syria falling into the wrong hands.”  The message is straightforward – the enemy of our enemy is our friend. There are powerful antagonists seeking to do us harm – Bibi wants us to remember – and therefore Jews the world over must ignore divisive politics, such as the Judaization of East Jerusalem in Sheikh Jarrah, and instead unite against our common enemy.

The identity of that common enemy became abundantly clear to my Birthright cohort after we learned about the surprise war launched during the Yom Kippur holiday in 1973.  Overlooking the Syrian-Israeli border, our tour guide casually explained that what we have to understand is that “the Arab mentality has great propensity for revenge and holding grudges over long periods of time.” The desire to murder Jews was not a figment of the past, we were taught, but instead a horrific fact of our present time. “Fuck you, fucking Arabs!” one participant yelled across the border before we left.

As the trip went on, a publicly accepted animosity toward the local Palestinian population began germinating as participants internalized the division between “us” and “them.” On the way back from the Syrian border, for example, one staff member posed the following question to the group: “Where I live, if we had an Israeli flag on our car window it would get broken in by the end of the day. Who here would break the window of a car with a Palestinian flag on it?” He expected no response, yet was caught off-guard when two male participants raised their hands. He pressed them, “Really now, guys?” “Yep!” the two replied in unison. If there was any discomfort among the group at the time, it was kept silent. Nobody said a word.

A parallel racism was brewing on another trip to Israel, this time led by a Los Angeles Jewish day school. “It was the last day [of the trip],” one participant recounted, “we eat lunch at this air force base and a pilot brings us over some missiles that they’re going to use in training.” “So these missiles are going to be dropped on Lebanese Hezbollah villages,” he recalls the pilot saying, “here are some sharpies – write your messages.” And as if the destructive weaponry were a Bar-Mitzvah sign-in board, young Jews began etching their wishes for the recipients: “Arabs die,” “Nasrallah burn at the stake,” “Arabs should burn in hell.” When the participant raised his concern to the day school teachers leading the trip, he was told to “lighten up.” “I know that [the pilot] was kidding,” he explained to me in retrospect, “that these aren’t going to hit a Lebanese village… but the idea that they think it is fun for us to be doing this… I almost wanted to cry.”

Do these examples illustrate that all organized trips to Israel breed antagonism against Arabs? Not necessarily. Do they mean that we must overlook cases of Arab anti-Semitism and violence against Israelis? Not necessarily. What they do mean, however, is that in their haste to unify Jewish youth in support of Israel, American-Jewish institutions have (perhaps unwittingly) bred an often unrecognized racism among the next generation of community leaders. The demonstrations in Sheikh Jarrah spurred at least one student to come to terms with her own racism. We must all follow her lead. If we do not prioritize identifying and eradicating racism before it spirals beyond our control, the integrity of American Jewry in the coming years will quickly begin to crumble.

Roi Bachmutsky is a recent graduate of the University of California, Berkeley. You can follow him on his blog and on Twitter (@roibachmutsky).

Related:
A house divided: Campus divestment reveals cracks within the American Jewish establishment