Caught in the middle: The need for a system reset

By Emma Jacobson

In the wake of Oct. 7, many American Jews have felt themselves caught in the deep trenches of a multifaceted grief-stricken war. A heartbreaking war resulting in the harrowing loss of both Israeli and Palestinian life, an ideological war against Zionism and a war where unaﬃliated peers have seemingly become experts on the geopolitical nuances of the contemporary Middle East.

Many American leftists (especially on college campuses) have begun to rebrand Zionism as a sort of “Manifest Destiny”-ism, while Zionism as a bare-bones concept is quite simple: Zionism, at its core, is a belief that the Jewish people have a right to self-determination and sovereignty in part of their indigenous, ancestral homeland.

This distortion and defamation of a crucial element of Judaism by the American Left is alarming and dangerous.

In the midst of this war and in the midst of intense social signaling, I ask:

Why is Jewish safety such an uncomfortable truth to so many? And, why are so many unwilling to understand that Zionism can and should be reaﬃrmed as simply a collective yearning and commitment to indigenous sovereignty and safety?

I also beg that liberal Zionists see the other side of this painful coin. I want to hold the shared pain that these friends and I both feel; a pain that emerges every day as I open up social media and see the death toll in Gaza rise; a pain that I feel deeply when hearing the disastrous and dangerous lies spewed by Israel’s right about Palestinians as a collective people in the name of the Jewish state.

We have seen a dangerous cycle of blank checks supplied by far-right groups — blank checks that have contributed to the expansion of settlements in the West Bank, attempts to purge Palestinians from East Jerusalem and to the support of extreme right-wing politicians fueled by racism and comfortable with fascism, such as Itamar Ben Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich. The unequivocal belief that the governmental body of Israel can and has done no wrong is an extremely outdated, misguided and fluctuating ideology.

However, within this struggle and strife, I still ﬁnd solace.

I am eternally grateful to my parents — a father who was a Hebrew and Semitics studies major and a mother who shared the values of a liberal, Jewish background — who met in Israel volunteering in the 1990s, for helping me to understand that examining and understanding the Palestinian narrative was crucial. I began to understand that my Zionism comes with a responsibility — a responsibility to understand that our collective yearning as Jews for liberation is intertwined with the Palestinians’ collective yearning for liberation.

In my own moments of introspection, I feel frustrated with my anti-Zionist peers, yet somehow part of me understands. I am profoundly Jewish. I am proud to have multitudes of Israeli friends and family. There is no personal identity for me without an Israeli identity. The words of Leah Goldberg, the poetry of Yehuda Amichai and the music of Ofra Haza each have latched on to my heart throughout the years. However, so many of my peers simply do not have that same connection to Israel.

To many of them, Israelis and Israel are an abstract entity — a ﬁctitious portrait painted by buzzwords swirling the internet such as “white colonizer” and “occupier.”

If we want to save the relationship between American Jews and Israel, I truly believe that we need a full-blown system reset where nuance, conversation and nonpartisan ideals are put at the forefront of educational spaces.

We must see our hopes for the future as rooted in the beauty of our culture and traditions as well as a shared yearning for safety, sovereignty and self-determination.

As I say Kaddish, I think of the thousands of Israelis killed, of our hostages still held captive in Gaza and the thousands of innocent Gazans trapped in the trenches of death and destruction; trapped by a genocidal government whose oﬃcials have publicly and loudly vowed to repeat attacks against Jews “again and again until Israel is destroyed.”

I ask that we ﬁnd comfort in the uncomfortability. I ask that we understand that empathy is not a ﬁnite resource. I ask that we remain persistent in our ﬁght against antisemitism and Islamophobia. I ask that we do not conﬂate a people with their government.

And, I ask that we examine our Zionism and wrestle with it just as Jacob did with the angels.

Emma Jacobson is a student and the president of Columbia College Chicago Hillel. She is from Overland Park, Kansas.

The value of Birthright on Jewish identity

By Alexa Summers

*Alexa Summers (left) with Birthright educators at the Western Wall in Jerusalem.*

I went on my own Birthright trip in 2018, participated in an Israel internship program in 2019 and have staffed seven trips since.

After Oct. 7, though, I felt wholly isolated. I am completely surrounded by non-Jews with a narrative that wants Israel to cease to exist, and I felt totally consumed by their darkness. While I have some friends that are trying their best to empathize with me, at the end of the day, they are not Jewish, and Israel does not mean to them what it means to me.

When I first found out about the Birthright Israel Educators Forum cohort, it felt like a light at the end of the tunnel. All I wanted was to get back to Israel. I wanted to see for myself that the sky was still blue and the trees were still standing, because after everything that unfolded, it was hard to believe sometimes. As I started to receive further information and learned that it fell perfectly over my spring break, I knew it was meant to be that I went.

It turned out that while I thought I had been healing since Oct. 7, I was actually suppressing my feelings because I never felt safe to work through them. My Jewish identity is Israel, and that had been stripped from me by the narrative I’m surrounded by.

Returning to Israel restored my identity. It gave me reassurance that the sky and trees still continued to be. The trees are not the same trees since they witnessed every ounce of horror and will be forced to hold onto those memories forever, but they are still standing. I was also surrounded by Jews. The others in my cohort pulled me out of my pit of isolation. For the first time since Oct. 7, I felt safe.

To those considering coming on Birthright: now more than ever, it is important for you to come and see for yourself what is truly going on. The best way to get educated is to see with your own eyes. We are surrounded by a constant flow of fake information, and the only way to know for sure is to experience. Coming to Israel at a time like this helps with grounding — it reminds you that it is okay to be a Jew and that our narrative is important.

To the parents trying to decide if their kids should come on Birthright now: my parents were also quite skeptical. However, they knew Birthright follows the security situation very closely. The risk of something bad happening is not zero, because it is never zero, just like here in America, but Birthright protects its participants.

I will be returning to staff three Birthright trips this summer. After experiencing safety, a community filled with support and no longer having to justify my feelings to people, I have finally started to heal. My Jewish identity has been restored, and I am forever thankful. I am so looking forward to helping other young Jews find their path through healing, community and Jewish identity.

We will dance again.

Alexa Summers lives in Overland Park, Kansas, and is involved with Birthright Israel.