To Be Zionist or Anti-Zionist?

A lot has happened since my last post and I'll start with the news that I am officially an Israeli citizen. The process wasn't all that more complicated than what I went through to get my work visa, yet the status change is quite significant.  For those of you who know me well, I'm sure it never crossed your mind that I would a) end up in Israel and b) end up becoming a citizen. (Don't worry, I don't lose my American citizenship. That would have been a major deal-breaker for me as well). Many days, it is a shock for me as well, but probably not for the same reasons you may have. It's not so much about missing the dream job I had back in New York, the "easier" living, good customer service, great variety of food and people. Believe me, I miss all that a great deal, not to mention of course not being close to my family and friends. That's a given. But, what is different - underneath the surface - is that simply I am a new citizen of a country (out of choice) and I came here from the United States, but I'm not a Zionist. Being "Jewish" is not - and has never been - something close to my heart and yet it is the one identifying label that has given me everything in this country.

I had been grappling with this contradiction even before I came to Israel. I was really attracted to the Tikkun Olam program from the heart - not from the perspective of "being a Jew." It was progressive and dare I say leftist in its pursuits and goals. I don't know many 5-10 month programs where you live in a mixed neighborhood like Jaffa and volunteer within the community, sometimes as the only Jew at an after-school program for example. And yet ... when I was interviewed over the phone as an applicant, I was reminded that Tikkun Olam is still a Zionist organization, sponsored by MASA, and ultimately happy if you make aliyah. That was hard for me to swallow sometimes as I had built up a very nasty taste for Zionism, seeing it in the form of settlements, Orthodox Jews, and even the kind of Jews who grew up reform but with JCC, Jewish summer camp, and going to temple every Friday night. In hindsight, I see that part of my perceptions were shaped from just not having these things and not being part of "it" - and therefore feeling like I didn't belong. Now, after almost 2 years in Israel, I can also see that Zionists take many different forms and types of people, including those who I admire. One such woman is Nomika Zion, who we met in Sderot during one of our Tikkun Olam field trips. She probably wouldn't remember our group, but she left a very strong impression on me and in many ways she has become a my symbol of strength and optimism for peace. Basically, she is a founder of Kol Aher (Another Voice), which is a group of Israelis who have been building connections with the people of Gaza in order to find a humanistic partnership across the borders. During the Cast Lead Operation, she wrote this deeply painful, yet also courageous letter with the strong message of "Not in My Name, and not For Me Did you Go Into This War." As she spoke to us, I was so touched that an Israeli, living in fear in Sderot (and you could see her nervousness in her body and voice), could have sympathy for the other side and furthermore try to reach out in friendship to them. As we walked around Sderot, we had the chance to talk to her and ask questions. I remember it was starting to rain, but I didn't care. I asked many questions throughout the meeting, but there was one still burning in my stomach. "Would you consider yourself a Zionist?" She paused. It was a complicated question, but in the end, she said, "Yes."At the time, I really thought that was insane. Now, I'm starting to see there are more faces to Zionism, and I can't say I'm anti-Zionist with the same confidence as before.

Zionism. I still think it is one of the main causes of the whole Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And yes, it furthers the hatred and violence today with settlements and occupation. But, is it possible that there has also been this loving and peaceful (yet, yes, Zionist) movement? When I hear some older Israelis talking about the land and how much it has been built up or when I visit a kibbutz or smaller village where they helped their neighboring Arab village get electricity and running water 40 years ago, I think that is something beautiful that should be nurtured and preserved. It isn't about returning to the Promised Land or even about securing Jewish security in the world. I think there is this other face, that wants to build bridges between people, overcome challenges - in nature, religion, and in life in general. It is a young nation still and can grow to be something truly outstanding. Israel has made be proud so many times. It comes to the aid of so many foreign countries in a crisis. It has built a strong country with impressive infrastructure and ultra confident citizens. The high tech industry here is first class and above all, there are Israelis who will fight along side Arabs about to lose their homes, putting their own lives in danger to take a stand in what they believe in.

I don't believe in a two-state solution, even though I did support it in the beginning. I love living in Jaffa because of the mixed community and that I can hear the muezzin, church bells, and pass synagogues - and even a Scientology Center! I read somewhere once: "If we can't live together, we die alone." As impossible and self-destructive (for everyone) it may seem now, I have to believe that a secular single state can bring about so much more good in the world than a separated state that will surely only place more barriers in the way of mutual understanding, trust, and coexistence. And, in a bizarre and twisted way, I believe these other faces of Zionism together with the moderate everyday Palestinian can help make this vision at least a possibility for the future. All I need is the possibility to keep faith.