Why Celebrate?
by Naomi Krieger on April 30, 2008 in Features
This month, I celebrate Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israeli Independence Day, while my Palestinian friends mourn the same day as the Nakba.
Why celebrate? For many people, the establishment of the modern state of Israel represents the triumph of hope, faith and vision over despair. From a people scattered among nations, dreaming of return to the land of Israel for 2,000 years, an incredible society was built. Hebrew was revived - a feat studied by linguists and policymakers worldwide - and spoken again next to its sister language, Arabic. Jewish holidays, intimately tied to the cycles of nature, made sense again: the harvest festival falls at harvest time, instead of in the early onset of a cold European winter. My parents raised me without fear of discrimination or persecution. I was encouraged to do the things that Jews in exile had never thought possible: work the land, defend my country, serve in government.
A remarkable modern democracy was born. A single day before being thrown into a survival battle, this newborn state had the clarity and courage to pronounce in its 1948 Declaration of Independence that it “will be based on freedom, justice and peace; … it will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions.”
Theodore Herzl, a founding father of Zionism, dreamt in the 19th century of a Jewish state, one that would “even include a Jewish thief.” In his vision, no longer would Jews be a disembodied soul floating among the nations. They would have a real, living state - with good and bad. His foresight was tremendous. Israel’s achievements are incredible: vibrant democracy, modern economy, good education system, innovation. But we also have our thieves, our mistakes, our failures.
There is extensive debate over the facts and intentions surrounding the 1948 war and displacement of population. I am not a historian and would merely urge anyone interested to critically read a variety of sources. Undoubtedly, wrongs were committed and many suffered.
What I can say is this: We must hear the stories. In other conflict areas - from Chile to Africa to East Timor - we have seen the power of truth and reconciliation commissions: an environment that allowed individuals on both sides to tell their stories and search for truth. This specific mechanism may not work for the Middle East, but hearing each other’s stories and pain is a critical step before we can move forward. For me, being able to listen and share the past here at Kennedy School has given me a deeper understanding and courage to look ahead. Paradoxically, I had to come halfway around the world to be able to talk with my neighbors.
Telling the stories cannot turn back the clock and resolve the issues; and our focus on the past should not be an attempt to achieve historic justice. On both sides, there is suffering that can’t be undone, older generations who cannot go back to their places of origin and younger generations born into new homes while inheriting their parents’ history.
Solving the current conflict requires patience, determination and courage on both sides to hear the other’s narrative and then recognize that it’s not about who is right or wrong. Thinking of 1948, I feel the burden of our histories but am again encouraged by Israel’s Declaration of Independence. It reads: “We extend our hand to all neighboring states and their peoples in an offer of peace and good neighborliness, and appeal to them to establish bonds of cooperation and mutual help with the sovereign Jewish people settled in its own land. The State of Israel is prepared to do its share in a common effort for the advancement of the entire Middle East.”
Jews worldwide recently celebrated Passover, commemorating a more ancient story of liberation. At the holiday meal, it is customary to remove drops of wine from our glasses as we mention each plague visited on the ancient Egyptians until Pharaoh finally consented to “let our people go” to the Promised Land. Taking out the drops symbolizes that our celebration is not full, as we must remember the pain of the Egyptians who suffered.
On Independence Day, I join many Israelis in seeing the glass as not yet full, as the Palestinians’ pain is an unforgettable part of our celebration. The community here at HKS is a unique place for us to hear each other’s stories, and then look ahead together. I hope that one day soon, we can raise a fuller glass to celebrate the independence of both of our states.
(Editorial note: Logo above was used for an event at Harvard marking the 60th anniversary of the State of Israel.)
Comments
Got something to say?
