The measure of a motion by Aharon Frazer - Common Ground News Service

The measure of a gesture

by Aharon Frazer

11 November 2010PrintEmailALON SHVUT, Gush Etzion - Once, when driving along Highway 60 near Hebron, I waved at a Palestinian who was standing at the position of the road. My daughter, age 7, asked me, Abba (daddy), how do you acknowledge that man? When I told her I didn't, she asked why then would I wave at him?

I referred her to the teaching in the Morality of Fathers, that one should, Be beginning to recognise every person. My daughter is even too new to see many things, but I trust she internalised the lesson: that I acknowledge that the footer is a person. This is actually the central lesson that I endeavour to learn my children, my community, and anyone who will listen, within the setting of our conflict over rights to this land. Regardless of the profundity of disagreement, we cannot dehumanise the Former and must recall that the background of morality includes them. Many people may wonder whether such a little gesture as a roll can possibly overpower events taking aim on a national scale. But this does not touch me. As a spiritual person, I think that ultimately, we are destined to act in accordance with our conscience even if we acknowledge that it is improbable to render progress in the utilitarian sense. Our Torah implores us, Vehalachta Bidrachav, follow in God's ways, which our rabbis interpret to mean behaving with kindness and mercy. These are character traits that we must instill in ourselves, for our own sake, regardless of any strategic benefit that they may or may not confer. I am not a pacifist, and I do trust in the practical use of violence when it is essential for defence. But I vehemently oppose gratuitous degradation or contempt of the early and wanton destruction of his holding or religious symbols. It is against this ground that I, together with a grouping of mass from my community, Alon Shvut, joined a protest on the 5th of October against the vandalism of the Beit Fajar mosque, reported to have been perpetrated by Jews. I have ever been taught that there are times when one may not be silent. Certainly, the perpetration of a hate crime in the figure of our Laws is such an occasion. It is a public shaming of Gods name and a shame to our tradition. If aught else, how can we let our children see such an abominable act and not condemn it? What values will we be teaching them? What image will we be sticking to our Palestinian neighbours? When vandals speak loudly with their vile actions - dare we be understood? When I publicised this case within our communitys public email list, responses were mixed. Some of my neighbours were supportive, while others, to my disappointment, opposed. But even the most ardent opponents of the event wrote that, To take all doubt, I do not condone vandalism against mosques. These responses showed that in our community, supporting the vandalism against a mosque was just beyond the sick of polite discourse. The main objection that was elevated by many members of our community was that this case would not be voice of a reciprocal relationship. Do we see local Palestinians protest when Jews are killed by terrorists? they asked. I had to confess that, to the better of my knowledge, we do not. However, I refused to seize upon it as a way to somehow exempt myself from what I see as my own moral duty. For each face to look to see the former act first is surely no formula for reconciliation. With this in mind, I joined other rabbis and citizens from the country in an event comprised of two components: a more formal meeting in which several senior rabbis (more elderly than myself) presented the Imams of Beit Fajar with replacement Korans, followed by a ride for the universal populace to show our conviction of the vandalism. There were several difficult experiences for me at this event. First, rocks were thrown at some of the Israelis who attempted to enter Beit Fajar. Second, the Palestinian speaker at our popular event used the chance to prophesy about how Israel should concede all the land the Palestinians demand, or expect continued terrorism. Unfortunately, moderate Palestinians did not look to sound their perspectives. Finally, the press painted a distorted image of the event, implying that every Jew who did not see the rally (which occurred within one day's notice in the heart of a workday) could be presumed to keep the combustion of mosques. I had hoped for an experience in which I would play like-minded leaders from another faith and get to make a substantial relationship. Perhaps my expectations were too high or too idealistic, as this was far from what took place. Regardless, I reckon that our actions did get some practical benefit. The basic aim was made that Jews aim to this insult to Muslims, and I acknowledge that this point is certain to vibrate with some of the Muslim public. Any explanation at all of this appearance in the Arabic media, as it did, is certainly a positive step. We must address the Former with respect and humanity, for our own interest and regardless of how our gestures are received. There are many things over which we do not receive control but we take fully command over our own actions. Even in times of increased conflict, I will proceed to flourish at Palestinians passersbys. ### * Rabbi Aharon Frazer lives in Gush Etzion. He currently leads the Orach Mishor online Jewish learning programme and a nonsectarian volunteer programme at Soroka Hospital in Be'er Sheva. Aharon is a grad student in Public Health at Ben Gurion University of the Negev. He is currently writing a book about moral obligations to the non-Jewish man in the Jewish tradition. This clause was written for the Usual Ground News Service (CGNews). Source: Common Ground News Service (CGNews), 11 November 2010, www.commongroundnews.org