peace, of my mind

It seems that even millions of miles away, we are not removed from any of it. As a cardinal rule of socializing, I try my best to avoid certain topics of conversation; money, pregnancy, and of course, politics, and specifically those of the middle-eastern variety.

Since moving to the big city, out of my cushy Jewish community, and into the real world, where children freely wash hotdogs down with 2% milk, I've mistakenly come to feel that certain things are better to be kept tacit. However, it is no secret that the querulous circumstances in Israel have intensified to a fearsome degree, and now even friends who are not at all politically minded have been voicing their thoughts on the headlines. I've done my best to hold my tongue, to shrug my shoulders and offer meaningless annotations followed by a subject change.

But, I woke up Sunday morning, and realised that I've been wrong to do so.

Saturday night, after dropping Ben off at his stop, my cab driver turned on a talk radio program where the Gaza crisis was being discussed. Dismayed, the man shook his head, and asked me if I had heard about it. It was late, and I was tired, so I offered a nod of acknowledgment. Apparently, he perceived this nod to mean that I needed an explanation. For the final six minutes of the ride, I was forced to digest all of the ways in which Jews, not just Israelis, are wholly comparable to Nazis – without any objection from the backseat.

I'm not sure why I kept quiet. Certainly not because I don't have an opinion. It was late, and I just wanted to get home. But the cost of another starting cab fare could not have outweighed the price that I paid in guilt all night, and into the morning. I was disgusted by my driver, but even more disappointed in myself.

Knee-deep in regret Sunday morning, I drank my coffee and read the paper. Haroon Siddiqui's column in the Star on Sunday didn't help my feelings at all. The piece was entitled 'Jewish Dissenters Speak Out Over Gaza' and detailed the events at the Israeli Consulate in Toronto last week. This article upset me, to say the least. And not for the most obvious reason.

I wouldn't consider myself a Zionist, I'm certainly not a war supporter, and I'm not nearly impractical enough to cling to pacifism. I'm a reform Jew, by definition, and I've traveled to Israel many times. I have family living there, and cousins who have fought in the IDF. I've entertained the idea of living there myself in the future, and my brother is set to move there this spring. Of course, there are many things about Israel that I don't like, and as a country they have made decisions in the past that I have not supported, or just not understood.

That said, Siddiqui wrongfully uses last week's demonstration to suggest that because a diminutive troupe of Jewish activists contested Olmert's military response, some sort of credibility can be given to the claim that even secular Jews disagree with the Israeli perspective. What the take-over last week should have communicated is that the Jewish community promotes free thought, free speech, and due activism, even when it counters the Jewish cause at large. It is on that freedom that Judaism is founded, and it is that same freedom on which Israel was built. Because of these liberties, there is truth in the statement that there are Jews affiliated with existing institutions that support Hamas' initiatives, but that does by no means indicate some form of a mass secular mutiny.

There are two sides to every story, like there are two sides of the coin in this debate. Unfortunately, neither heads nor tails can bring about a resolution. What the take-over at the Israeli Consulate didn't tell me is that all secular Jews no longer support Israel, much to Siddiqui's suggestion. What it did tell me, however, is that it's alright to speak up for something that you believe in – something I should have done in the cab that night. And for those who read the column and missed the latter message, I can assure you, and Mr. Siddiqui, that there are plenty of us yids about town who can support the concept of a Palestinian state, hope deeply for peace, and still wave their blue and whites proudly -- all at the very same time.