They
combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, "You have gone too far! For
all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst. Why
then do you raise yourselves above the Lord's congregation?" When Moses heard
this, he fell on his face. -Numbers 16:3-4
Last week, the local chapter of
Sikkui, a moderate, non-militant non-profit organization that engages in
programs of research and education to further equal rights in Israel (research
reports, public lectures, seminars, etc.) held an evening panel discussion on
the topic of "fear, racism, and inequality;" the focus was on discussing the
reasons behind the efforts for and against residential segregation in the
Galilee. The invited speakers represented a pretty wide range of views (similar
to a program we offered a few months ago, about which I wrote here). And while
the audience, characteristically, consisted mainly of people with more "leftist"
sympathies, it was actually pretty heterogeneous, as the speakers were a draw
(The moderator was Israel Prize Laureate Prof. Gabi Solomon). However, one part
of the audience was a little surprising: a busload from the nearby city of
Karmiel (pop. 50,000), led by a mayoral candidate from the last election, whose
platform had been "keep the Arabs out of Karmiel." They seem to have come not to
listen and discuss, but to heckle and disrupt and wave Israeli flags, until,
largely ignored, they got bored and left.
While
these visitors were not expected, their antics fit squarely into a central
element of Israeli public discourse, one of the least attractive aspects of
Israeli culture: The assumption that the appropriate way to deal with opinions I
do not like is to silence them or outshout them; if no one can hear them, then
they don't exist and we don't have to think about them or respond to them. I'm
not sure where this approach came from - if it is Middle Eastern, or if our
founding fathers brought it with them from Russia. In any case, it drives most
of us Anglos crazy. And while the Knesset is perhaps the place where it can best
be observed in its extreme form, it permeates all levels of discourse. Trying to
conduct a civilized discussion of a controversial issue in a youth group or
class room - or teacher in-service - is a constant and frustrating exercise in
fighting this approach and trying to get people to listen to each other. Perhaps
that is why there are so many academic and quasi-academic professional training
programs here in "group facilitation," and why that is such a popular profession
- we can't seem to have a group discussion without professional help! I first
encountered this behavior shortly after we arrived at Shorashim, when the
community began a "discussion" of the question of privatization of the
collective economy. Hearing our new nice, educated, middle-class neighbors
trying to out-scream each other (thereby, of course, not advancing a solution in
any way) was daunting. In the end we hired an expensive facilitator and are all
living happily together 20 years later.
Recently, we have seen this
"silence the Other" approach carried to a worrying extreme, as there is
legislation currently before the Knesset which would forbid anyone from holding
any kind of public recognition of the "Nakba" - "the catastrophe" - which is how
many Israeli Arabs refer to their defeat in the War of Independence. Presumably,
if we never have to listen to the Arabs express their memories of loss and
humiliation, those feelings will go away (or maybe the Arabs will get so
frustrated that they'll just go away). Similarly, the Ultra-Orthodox act as if
shutting down the Gay Pride Parade will either cause homosexuality to disappear
- or will cause homosexuals to find another country.
Interesting that
the best-known imperative in the Jewish tradition - "Listen, O Israel..." - is
the one we have the hardest time doing.
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