A Response to the Green Party’s Anti-Zionist Policy, An Open Letter

 

I am a Zionist; that is to say, I believe in the right of Jews to live in self-determination, in peace, in the Land of Israel to which we have been bound for millennia.

I also believe in a free Palestine; that is to say, the right of Palestinians to live, in self-determination, in peace, on land to which they have also been bound for millennia.

It’s not going to be easy, neither practically nor emotionally, for both ‘sides’ to get what they wish. But I don’t accept these statements are either mutually exclusive or beyond the realm of possibility. In fact, I believe the only way to have either is to have both.

Some self-describe as ‘Zionists’ or supporters of a ‘free Palestine,’ for whom the statement they adopt requires, either explicitly or implicitly, an eradication of the humanity of the ‘other’, or worse, some kind of ethnic cleansing. There are certainly those on both, supposed, sides of this too-often lethal argument who seek to deny that either Jews or Palestinians have meaningful connection to the land of their ancestors. This seems preposterous, again, in both directions.

It’s heartbreaking that voices of performative dehumanisation and exclusion have come to seem so popular in these extreme and populist times. And I’m saddened to feel that the Anti-Zionist policy, adopted by the Green Party, falls into the category of this kind of posturing, heartbreaking public statement, both in its own terms, and even more so in terms of the failure to show empathy for both Jews living in Israel, victims of despicable violence perpetuated in the name of ‘Palestinian resistance,’ and Jews living in this country, for whom a prayer in the direction of Jerusalem, or for the sake of Jerusalem, now stands to be condemned as racist by a party they might otherwise support or find holding the mandate to represent their democratic interests.

Jonathan Freedland, writing in the Guardian, perfectly captures the problem with the policy’s claim that it is not antisemtic.

[The policy] reveals a wilful misunderstanding of Jews and Judaism. Social media has been full in recent days of supposedly progressive non-Jews telling Jews what Judaism is and what it is not – with an arrogance that, I suspect, they would find unacceptable in a majority group addressing any other minority – and the same error recurs. Breezily, we are told that Zionism is merely a political ideology, wholly separate from Judaism, which means, happily, that one can denounce the former without expressing any animus towards the latter. If only it were so simple.

It’s possible to articulate an anti-Zionist position without being antisemitic. This wasn’t it. My colleague, Rabbi Lev Taylor, a self-described “activist on the Jewish radical left since childhood,” has analysed clearly the historical connection between the language of the Green Party policy and century-old Stalinist and related antisemitic attack. I commend his article.

These aren’t just matters of historical interest. These kinds of statements and the culture which organises towards them, is used deliberately to shift the ‘Overton window’ of acceptable discourse about and actions towards Jews in this country. They range from the extreme, and thankfully rare – murderous violence- to the almost daily – verbal abuse, loss of professional opportunity and the like. The thing that I see and feel most often is a sort of social recoil as Jews become ‘non-grata’ in liberal circles.

These waters are intemperate and nasty. There is a sense that a distaste for the abuse of Palestinians’ rights in the land of Israel permits and even mandates a nastiness directed in increasing circles towards any Jew who shows any empathy with even a basic, non-racist and non-supremacist, empathy for a Jewish state.

Rabbi Taylor wrote;

A couple of weeks ago, my suburban Jewish community was baselessly accused of being at the heart of a Zionist plot to control the Green Party. Members of my synagogue’s council (most of whom are not even Greens) were doxxed. I felt many emotions since my congregants were accused of being part of a conspiracy. There is fear: for what it means to have members suddenly on this watch-list. There is bafflement: that people whose values I share, some of whom I have protested with for human rights, should stand charged with such offences.

We have reached a point where there are British Jews, including members of the community I serve, who share that they no longer feel safe in this society. My sense is that this dis-ease is not principally driven even by the murderous attacks in Heaton Park or Golders Green, but rather the social poison that seeps out from the public performances of policies and platforms such as that passed by the Green Party conference.

Freedland, in his recent Guardian article, analyses the difficulties in claiming, as the (Jewish) leader of the Green Party has suggested, that Jews could be ‘left alone’ if they (we) denounce Israel with sufficient condemnatory clarity and I don’t disagree with his analysis in that opinion piece, but it is – as Freedland knows – complex. I think it is reasonable for someone who wishes to know whether a Jew’s connection to the land and State of Israel is or is not racist or ethno-supremacist (and what a Shanda – embarrassment - it is that this is even a question) to expect of a Jew, either in Israel or this country, to show an awareness of how Jewish self-determination has impacted Palestinians. For what it’s worth, I expect the same from those who articulate a ‘pro-Palestinian’ position. Does such a person, in Palestine or beyond, show an awareness of the pain caused by those professing an affinity to Palestinians towards Jews?

If a person wishing to speak on this issue is capable of expressing something that feels genuine, I would argue, it would behove us to give ear, try to learn, find points of meeting, growth and a future that is free of violence for all. If, however, the voice is one only of bombast, accusation and a denial of responsibility, I’m not sure what is to be gained by even seeking engagement. Part of the problem of the Green Party policy is its blindness to that reality – October 7^th isn’t mentioned, no Israeli is considered a good-Israeli etc. I mean, I’ll talk to, almost, anybody, but I’ve spent enough time banging my head against walls to know when I’m wasting effort that could be spent more profitably on healing.

There is an annoying insistence on ‘whataboutery’ in our current approach to public discourse. You say anything about how much pain Israel has suffered and get ‘whatabout the Palestinians’ and vice versa. It’s easy to discount almost every statement about the situation in Israel / Palestine for a failure to sufficiently invoke one thing or another. We need to be gentle in allowing partial acknowledgements from those who wish to show they do indeed understand that this is complex and pain is felt on both sides. Perhaps we can lift a trick from the extremists – what about a good kind of ‘dog whistling’? Extremists use dog-whistling to let others know what side they stand on. We – protectors of empathy and demanding of complexity – should be able to get away with something similar.

So, for what it’s worth, I am a Zionist, that is to say, I believe in the right of Jews to live in self-determination, in peace, in the Land of Israel to which we have been bound for millennia. I also believe in a free Palestine, that is to say, the right of Palestinians to live, in self-determination, in peace, in land to which they have also been for millennia. Bringing both hopes to reality isn’t easy, but I believe the only way to have either is to have both.

As Theodor Zeldin, the great historian of ideas (born in ‘Palestine’ or should that be ‘pre-state Israel’) wrote in the conclusion of his magisterial An Intimate History of Humanity;

It is in the power of everybody, with a little courage, to hold out a hand to someone different, to attempt to increase, even by a tiny amount, the quantity of humanity in the world. But it is careless to do so without remembering how previous efforts have failed. History, with its endless procession of passers-by has so far largely been a chronicle waste. But next time two people meet, the result could be different. That is the origin of anxiety, but also of hope and hope is the origin of humanity.^[1]