What Israel’s Ethiopian Jews Can Teach Us About Balance and Diversity

Four years ago I was presented with the opportunity to develop and direct a film about Operation Solomon, the 1991 airlift of 14,000 Ethiopian Jews to Israel. For thirty years, the narrative of Operation Solomon has epitomized how we communicate about Israel to our children and the outside world. That narrative is best summed up in the words of Asher Naim, Israel’s Ambassador to Ethiopia during Operation Solomon, when he spoke at the UN vote to repeal Resolution 3379, which labeled Zionism equal to racism:

For centuries, black Africans have been taken from the continent in shackles. Now, for the first time in history, Africans left Africa for freedom. In Israel, they were received as a lost tribe that had just returned home. Therefore, Mr. Chairman, Resolution 3379, which calls Zionism a form of racism, is a lie. Preposterous and unjustified. I call for it to be repealed for the sake of the United Nations honor, and for truth and justice.

The popular narrative of Operation Solomon, indeed of the Ethiopian Israeli community, has been used as proof that Israel is not racist, that Israel is a diverse democracy, that the Jewish people are brothers no matter what.

What Ambassador Naim did not mention was what he learned about during his service in Ethiopia leading up to Operation Solomon: the decades in which the authenticity of Ethiopian Jewish identity was questioned and debated; the period in which they had to undergo conversions to be accepted, and even then they were not accepted by everyone; the fact that Operation Solomon was not initiated by the extremely reticent Israeli government, but rather by a group of American Jewish activists who ostensibly forced the Israelis’ hand. And only later did Asher learn about the difficulties the community continued to face after Operation Solomon: birth control forced on women, blood donations secretly dumped, institutional and police discrimination. Asher’s words at the UN were not wrong, but they were quite understandably presenting the story in stark terms lacking a complexity and nuance that took into account the full experience of the Ethiopian Jews. (Naim later explored these complexities in his memoir and continued to serve the Ethiopian Israeli community until he passed away in 2015.)

That lack of nuance and complexity continues in how the Ethiopian Jewish community’s narrative has been shared until today. The result is that as we argue with Israel’s critics and shout with pride about democracy and equality in Israel, using the Ethiopian Jewish story to prove our point, we are drowning out the voices of Ethiopian Jews who are struggling to make progress against discrimination in Israel. How can Israel continue to strive to achieve the ideals of diversity for which we are so proud, if we are afraid to admit and confront our discrimination and racism?

In July of 2019 as the screenwriter of my film, Eitan Anner, sat in his office writing the story of Operation Solomon for the screen, thousands of Ethiopian Israeli protesters swarmed the streets beneath his window. They were protesting against institutional discrimination, excessive force on the part of the police, and, perhaps most importantly, the general lack of awareness and the indifference in Israeli society to their struggle.

For many, these protests seemed like the Israeli version of the Black Lives Matter protests in the U.S. that eventually took center stage in the summer of 2021. The images from these protests include crowds of black faces chanting and yelling, police in riot gear and on horseback confronting protesters, and flames coming from burnt tires piled in the streets. One may think they are seeing all the markings of a Black Lives Matter protest except for one important detail: The protesters are waving Israeli flags. They are not carrying them upside down, they are not walking on them, they are not burning them, they are not taking a knee. They are waving those flags with pride and draping them over their shoulders.

One may think they are seeing all the markings of a Black Lives Matter protest except for one important detail: The protesters are waving Israeli flags.

This image reveals a critical difference between the BLM protests and those of the Ethiopian Israeli community. More importantly, the image is an inspiring model for how to integrate a more complex and nuanced relationship with Israel and the Jewish people. The Ethiopian Israeli community deeply loves Israel, Judaism, and the Jewish people and are able to hold that love at the same time that they confront discrimination and fight injustice. They are able to celebrate their accomplishments and appreciate the partnership of Israelis and diaspora Jewry in advancing their community’s interests, while also confronting the discrimination and racism they face in Israel.

Ultimately, I believe it is this balance that we must teach ourselves, our children, and the world. A simplistic, positive narrative about Israel does not help Israel continue to grow and advance. It also doesn’t help young Jews who find themselves unprepared for the anti-Israel onslaught they face on college campuses and in the media. To paraphrase Sigal Kanotopsky, the U.S. Northeast regional director of the Jewish Agency for Israel, for decades Israel has worked to better integrate and assimilate the Ethiopian Jews into Israeli culture, but the time has come for Israel and all Jews to assimilate and integrate better into Ethiopian Jewish culture. We can begin with their incredible ability to give room for both their deep love of Israel and their deeply emotional criticism. Only by simultaneously holding those two seemingly opposite forces can we truly advance our nation and our people.

Micah Smith is an award-winning filmmaker, the director of “Exodus 1991,” and Senior Vice President of Film and Television at OpenDor Media, a Jewish media nonprofit that is dedicated to bringing Jewish ideas, values and stories to life.