Tuesday, 5/6/97 Zionist principles can drive healing process
Compromise on land issue needed if Muslims, Jews want peaceful
coexistence
By Rabbi Chaim Seidler-Feller I am a "practicing Jew" and a
Zionist. My father was a "practicing Jew" and a life-long Zionist.
And my grandfather was a Hasidic (devoutly Orthodox) Jew and a
Zionist. Contrary to Pejman Novin’s assertions in the April 29
Daily Bruin, "practicing Jews" today are more likely to be Zionists
and supporters of Israel than are nonpracticing Jews. What then
does Zionism mean to me? Zionism is an ideology that not only links
me to my Jewish national home but, more importantly, it has given
me a rich and dynamic culture that engages my imagination. It has
provided me with an old-new language that ties me both to the
sacred texts of the tradition and to contemporary literary and
verbal expression – Hebrew being the language that I use to
communicate with my children – and it nurtures the collective
dimension of my Jewish identity. To be a Zionist means that I have
re-entered history as a Jew and that I am, therefore, responsible
to myself, to my people and to the world for my political behavior.
It is as a Zionist that I constantly ask whether Israel, the
nation-state, lives in accordance with the moral values that are so
central to Judaism. Indeed, Zionist principles serve as the
standard by which the acts of the Israeli government are to be
measured. My willingness to publicly criticize Israeli policies
emanates from my Zionist commitment. Finally, it is as a Zionist
that more than 20 years ago I began to advocate justice for the
Palestinian people in the form of a two-state solution:
Israel/Palestine. In pursuit of this goal, I became one of the
founders of Americans for Peace Now. My desire was to educate about
peace, to open people up to new possibilities, and to push for
coexistence and mutual respect. And so, in the community and on
campus, I organized numerous Muslim-Jewish dialogues, brought
together a circle of UCLA faculty as a Peace Now support group, and
took advantage of every possible opportunity to have Hillel
co-sponsor programs with a variety of campus-based Arab or Muslim
organizations. Some years ago we even invited the president of the
Muslim Student Association to make a presentation about Islam at a
Hillel Shabbat service and dinner. And last year, after a Muslim
representative spoke at a memorial gathering following one of the
terrorist bus bombings, I agreed to participate in a United Arab
Student memorial for the innocent victims of an Israeli air raid
that had mistakenly targeted a Palestinian refugee camp in southern
Lebanon. Although it was tragedy that joined us on those two
occasions, we expressed the hope that in the future we would come
together for celebrations as well. It is for this reason that I am
particularly saddened by the recent attack by Muslim students on
the legitimacy of the state of Israel. Not because, as Mr. Novin
puts it, I do not want to "allow the other side’s viewpoint to be
heard." Rather, it is because I thought that we had already moved
beyond the rhetoric of propaganda toward a dialogue of
understanding. Instead I find that as history is passing by,
generating a new and irreversible dynamic, we on campus are caught
in a time warp, having reverted to the familiar vituperations while
fighting the same old battles in 1997 that were being waged when I
arrived at UCLA in 1975. Once Oslo was signed and the peace talks
began in earnest, it was incumbent on us to search for new ways to
relate to each other to fashion a new coalition and to develop a
new strategic plan. The implications of the peace process for both
parties, whether in the Middle East or abroad, is that each of us
must adapt our dreams of total sovereignty and dominion to a
reality of divided territory and compromised expectations. The
situation further demands that we let go of our longstanding
prejudices and not be held hostage by our memories of oppression Of
course, memory is vital to our identity. Nevertheless, to allow
memory to determine the present and the future is to condemn
ourselves to an enduring paralysis of will. The peace process in
the Middle East has sown the seeds of hope and change. In its wake,
the preaching of hopelessness and continuous conflict is an immoral
proposition. For, to those waiting for liberation, such a policy
translates as "You must keep on suffering so that we can keep the
memory of our suffering alive." However, Yitzhak Rabin and Yasser
Arafat were right: Enough blood has been shed and enough vitriol
has been spewed by both peoples. Spring is upon us; "The song of
the turtle dove is heard in our land" (Song of Songs 2:12). Peace
is definitely within our reach. Let those of us who are inspired by
our religious teachings carry the visionary words of our prophets
and sages on our lips and stand at the forefront of the movement
for peace and coexistence. Indeed, let us together "seek peace and
pursue it." Seidler-Feller is director of Hillel and a sociology
instructor at UCLA. Related Stories: 5/2/97: Student campaigns get
off to brisk start 4/30/97: Government faceless in eyes of students
4/30/97: USAC errors must be addressed