Although I personally identify as a zionist Jew, because I believe that Israel has the right to exist as a state, I try to keep broad community with other Jews with different opinions to mine.
One friend, who has worked hard over the past year to build up our small local community of Jews who support Israel’s right to defend itself, responded forcefully to my assertion that war is inherently immoral and there are no ‘good guys’ in the current conflict in Gaza: ‘Of course there are, Israel is the good guy!’ My friend may be more zionist than me, but she also has friends and family in Israel and hasn’t come to her opinion in ignorance.
Another friend in London is married to an Israeli and lived in Israel for a decade. Her two children were born there. She’s been demonstrating for a ceasefire every weekend for the past year. I would normally be alarmed, but I know that my friend is a Jew in community with other Jews in contexts other than advocating for Palestine, and more knowledgeable about Israel than most – just because her opinion differs from mine, doesn’t make her less Jewish.
A friend recently came out as a sort of religious antizionist – harking to the Talmudic injunction not to enter the Holy Land ‘as a wall’. I knew he was at minimum nonzionist, but his considered opinion based on our holy texts surprised me. My opinion differs but I respect his. (But not the Neturei Karta, who went and begged Daddy Ayatollah not to slaughter them when he nukes Israel because they’re the ‘good Jews’. They can get bent.)
I in fact don’t have many red lines in terms of which Jews I keep community with – but I do have two which are non-negotiable.
The first is that they must be Jewish in contexts other than advocating for Palestine. There is unfortunately a local group which claims to represent Jews but is full of people who weren’t raised Jewish, haven’t come to Judaism in adulthood, and only associate with other Jews when they’re waving Palestinian flags in town – and not, say, during a Friday night dinner or a Lag B’Omer barbecue.
The second is that they shouldn’t advocate for actions or policies which would demonstrably harm other Jews. This is where the Neturei Karta, and many antizionists of Jewish heritage, fall down – they seem incapable of acknowledging that many of the things for which they advocate would lead to the ethnic cleansing of 7 million Jews from the Middle East. I can’t accept that a Jew in community with other Jews could ever call for their harm. It’s simply unacceptable.
I unfortunately fell out with a new friend on both those red lines, made more egregious because he invoked his grandparents who died in the Holocaust whilst in the same breath comparing Israel to the Third Reich. Perhaps the friendship could have been salvaged if he spouted less Iranian propaganda and held any sort of Jewish identity other than his weaponised heritage, but there again perhaps not.
I suppose the point of my rambling is to not only encourage other Jews to be in respectful community with Jews who hold many different opinions about Israel – as is our tradition, pre-dating but exemplified by the Talmud – but to also admonish my non-Jewish readers: we are not ‘good Jews’ and ‘bad Jews’ to be classified according to whether or not we agree with you.
We hold varied and nuanced opinions about Israel, the current conflict in Gaza, and the wider Middle East. Some of us, with the exact same information, will draw opposite conclusions. It is our tradition to foster vigorous debate within our community – ‘two Jews, three opinions’. You don’t get to dictate the ‘correct’ opinion, nor do you get to bludgeon wider Jewry with it.
You want to be an ally to your Jewish friends experiencing a surge in antisemitism whilst also advocating for Palestinian self-determination and rights? Have basic respect for our culture and traditions. Period, full-stop.
This is one reason why I so respect the work of Jewish-Palestinian solidarity movement Standing Together. They have consistently advocated for a cessation of hostilities without using language which criminalises either Israeli or Palestinian citizens, and without litigating the question of who has the ‘right’ to live in the Levant. They simply focus on building a shared, equitable, and peaceful future in the Land, together.
One of the last in-depth conversations I got to have with my father before he passed was about Gaza. I wasn’t sure what he would say about it – his parents were assimilationist to the point where he didn’t learn he was Jewish until he was 13, when he discovered that his grandmother wasn’t speaking French as his parents claimed, but Yiddish. He never declared opinions ‘as a Jew’. But his later work supporting victims of torture frequently took him to Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories. When he spoke about Israel, he didn’t speak in ignorance.
‘It’s hard not to describe the situation in the West Bank as apartheid,’ he told me as he sat up in his hospital bed, the first lucid conversation we’d managed to have that day. ‘I mean, they use separate roads. But,’ he added, ‘I’m not an Islamist – I don’t want Israel to stop existing.’ It was gratifying to agree, where so many Jews disagree, and – although he didn’t consistently identify as one – to be in respectful community as Jews. Considering that I’m the only one in my family who is a religious Jew, being able to have this discussion with him was a gift.
All this to say that these conversations between Jews are precious – the lifeblood of our community, to dissent without rancour. There are no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ Jews. Within a broad, healthy community which knows how to hold space for nuance, there are merely Jews.