Still Cranky After All These Years

“Hello? Hello? Hello?  Is there anybody in there?  Just nod if you can hear me.  Is there anyone at home?” So begins the song that many think was Pink Floyd’s best.  The words describe a feeling we can all relate to – one of despair, isolation, alienation.  In the case of this song, the feelings of pain eventually subsided and the protagonist, “Pink,” became “comfortably numb.”  Rolling Stones fans, partial to the song “Rocks Off,” might prefer the phrase “I can’t even feel the pain no more.”  It means the same thing -- the idea that while the source of one’s agony and loneliness is deep, the thought of a solution is hopeless, so why bother to fight any more or even worry about the problem?  Why not just accept that this is as good a hand as fate is going to deal us, and get on with our hopeless, dreamless life, numbness and all?

Yesterday, for the second Friday in a row, riots erupted at the Gaza/Israel border, resulting in multiple deaths and many hundreds of injuries.  I’ve seen reports of ten Palestinians killed yesterday and 21 killed the Friday before.  These protests have been instigated by Hamas.  That group pledged that the demonstrators would not be armed, though they have, in the words of the New York Times, “carved out an exception for rock throwing.” 

I include those facts because, from what I can tell, they are not in dispute.  Nor is it disputed that the Israeli army used tear gas and plenty of live bullets to repel the demonstrations.  As for what exactly the protestors have done to elicit that response, I don’t doubt that we would hear highly different reactions depending on whether we asked the Gazan or the Israeli leadership. The U.N. Security Council recently received a call for an investigation of these events, but the United States has already blocked an earlier draft of such a request and, of course, the US has veto power in the Security Council.  Israel has also indicated its opposition to calls for an independent investigation. 

I’ve heard precious little about this story on cable news.  What’s more, when I did a quick on-line review this morning of the largest newspapers in certain major Midwestern cities, I found no mention at all of the story.  Not in the Indianapolis paper, the Minneapolis paper, or the Milwaukee paper.  All this reminds me of the old philosophical question, if hundreds of Palestinians get shot and nobody in the Midwest hears them fall, did they really make a sound? 

The truth is, though, that the silence isn’t just a Midwestern problem.  This story isn’t captivating people on the coasts either.   Even in the New York Times and Washington Post, it was covered on pages A9 and A10, respectively -- worthy of mention, but not emphasis.  Perhaps the thinking is that the readership has become “comfortably numb” about the whole Israeli/Palestinian Conflict, which is no longer seen by sophisticated minds as solvable.

Back in early 2009 when I co-founded the Jewish-Islamic Dialogue Society of Washington, the conflict was generating a fair amount of interest among activists.  It was spoken about with urgency, if not optimism.   Activists didn’t all agree about how to resolve this conflict or who is to blame for it, but what they agreed on is nothing to sneeze at:  We all should care deeply about this conflict.  It’s not too late to find a peaceful solution.  And, may I add, we have a President in the White House (Obama) who is committed to bringing both sides together and making some real progress.   . 

That was then, this is now.  There is no sense of urgency any more.  There is barely any sense of hope.  People don’t seem interested in discussing the topic.  What’s to discuss?   The two sides seem to be embroiled in a never-ending dispute that they don’t care to solve, so how can we Americas help?  That’s the attitude. Tell me you haven’t heard it yourself.  Tell me you haven’t felt it yourself.

And yet, here we are, talking about one of the cradles of our civilization.  Some call it the Holy Land, some call it the Promised Land, and undeniably, this place is special to Jews, Christians, Muslims and Baha’is alike.   If we give up on peace there, haven’t we in essence given up on the whole religious project?   For once you lose the hope for peace in our holiest of places, haven’t you lost all faith in humanity, and once you’ve lost all faith in humanity, how can you possibly hope to honor God?

It matters little to me today which side or sides you blame for the clash in Gaza, or for the war between the Palestinians and the Jews.  What matters to me is whether you still care about this battle and this war.  Or are you so comfortably numb that you can’t even feel the pain no more?

I still feel the Palestinians’ pain when they talk about being trapped and stateless.  And I still feel the Jews’ pain when they are denied their own right to a state of their own.  I still pray for a solution – and, more specifically, a generation of leaders on both sides of this divide who are sufficiently compassionate about “the other” that they can imagine concessions their fathers and grandfathers wouldn’t make. 

I don’t intend to stop praying for this solution, nor to stop working for it.  When I do stop, that’s when you know I’ve given up on far more than the Israelis and Palestinians.  That’s when you know, God forbid, that I’ve given up on my Judaism.