Israel: Strange, Interesting Times

These are strange times. Mobs of Jewish rioters commit a pogrom in Huwara ahead of Shabbat Zakhor while the Temple Institute posts pictures on Instagram of its genetically modified red heifers ahead of Shabbat Parah. We are living in a Jewish science fiction novel, where the words of our sacred texts have escaped their bindings and now run rampant in the streets. 

These are dark times. The land is filled with violence. Extremists control the levers of Israeli state power while their vigilante lackeys throw rocks and set fires. Meanwhile, gunmen darken the threshold of our synagogues and kill Jewish worshippers on the Sabbath. Young men are felled in the street. 

These are unexceptional times. We are divided now, but we were divided in the 80s during the Lebanon war. Our internecine struggles are brutal now, but they were brutal in 1948 after the Altalena Affair. We are tribal now, but we were even more so when ancient Israel split from ancient Judah. Our politics are bitter and hateful now, but they were worse for King David and Saul. 

These are ordinary times. The headlines shriek and the TVs blare and the protestors protest but all the while the stores open and the stores close, the buses rumble from stop to stop, the birds chirp, the people go to work, the grandmothers squeeze fruit in the market, the Shabbat candles are lit and burn out. This is the unsung power of ordinariness, which overpowers national calamities like a river carving a path through stone.

In Israel, stark divides between religious and secular begin to soften and blur, paving the way for a new Judaism of continuity and flexibility.

This is a golden age. In Jerusalem and around the world, more and more Jews are becoming empowered to read our ancient holy books. Jews who have traditionally been excluded now become experts in Talmudic Aramaic and Biblical Hebrew, finding new ways into the tradition and clearing new paths for others to follow. In Israel, stark divides between religious and secular begin to soften and blur, paving the way for a new Judaism of continuity and flexibility.

These are desperate times. The conflict with the Palestinians has never so seemed intractable. In Gaza, we see the failure of the two-state solution. In the West Bank, we see the failure of the one-state solution. As hope in diplomacy dissipates, resentment and aggression rise to fill the vacuum. The left struggles to regain control of the steering wheel, but it senses that it is living on borrowed time. After all, demographic trends point to a future in which Israel is a Haredi state in which strident rabbinic authorities rule over a cowed secular minority with an iron fist.

When we witness what happened in Huwara, we fear that we have forgotten the lessons of our own history. Images of broken glass make us wince.

,This is a shameful chapter. When we witness what happened in Huwara, we fear that we have forgotten the lessons of our own history. Images of broken glass make us wince.

This is a proud chapter. Israelis by the hundred travel to Huwara to wage peace, raising money for the victims of our own wayward extremists. They reach out a hand. They offer an embrace. They vow to do something to make a difference. Meanwhile, Israelis by the thousands take up flags and march in the street week after week. In these protests, a fear of tyranny turns into a hope — for we see that we are not a people to walk blindly off the cliff. We will fight for an Israel we can be proud of, and for a Judaism that is a source of life and goodness.

These are interesting times. And yes, it seems that the ancient Chinese saying—may you live in interesting times—has indeed fallen upon our heads. Like the utterances of Balaam in the Torah, it is impossible to tell if this is a blessing with the undertone of a curse or a curse with the undertone of a blessing. In either case, may we find a way to survive these interesting times together, standing steady in the troubled river of history, and playing our roles with integrity.

Matthew Schultz is the author of the essay collection “What Came Before” (2020). He is a rabbinical student at Hebrew College in Newton, Massachusetts.