Lela Gilbert

Mar 22, 2017 | Christians and Minority Rights, Current Events, Jerusalem Notebook, Jewish-Christian Relations, Jews and the Jewish State

When I first set foot in Jerusalem in August 2006 – arriving in the country in the midst of the second Lebanon War – one of the earliest discoveries I made was that truth is sometimes hard to identify in the not-always-holy Holy Land.

I also found out that truth isn’t high on the list of priorities for international media sources. And many of them – prestigious though they might be – are more than happy to eclipse truth with what is now popularly known as “fake news.”

There are innumerable examples, and far too many to mention. But one classic instance – recently recycled – is that Israel is frequently accused of being an “apartheid state.”

This falsehood is carefully tucked between the glossy covers of former President Jimmy Carter’s notorious book Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, which officially introduced me to the libel that Israel supposedly treats today’s Arabs the way South Africa treated people of color between 1948 and 1991.

This accusation can be soundly debunked by those who actually lived in South Africa during those dark decades. But more about that in a moment.

Thanks to the willful blindness of various journalists, diplomats and anti-Israel activists, the apartheid accusation against Israel has never really disappeared. And in recent days, the subject has been revisited, this time at the United Nations.

The ancient warning “Beware the Ides of March” was appropriate in Israel on March 15, when the United Nations published a report accusing the Jewish State of imposing an “apartheid regime” of racial discrimination on the Palestinian people. U.N. Economic and Social Commission for Western Asia Executive Secretary Rima Khalaf posted the report and explained that it was the “first of its type” from a U.N. body, and it “clearly and frankly concludes that Israel is a racist state that has established an apartheid system that persecutes the Palestinian people.”

The report was titled “Israeli Practices Towards the Palestinian People and the Question of Apartheid,” and said that “available evidence establishes beyond a reasonable doubt that Israel is guilty of policies and practices that constitute the crime of apartheid as legally defined in instruments of international law.”

ESCWA comprises 18 Arab states in Western Asia and aims to support economic and social development in member states, according to its website. According to Khalaf, the report was prepared at the request of the member states.

Unfortunately for herself and her cause, Khalaf published the report on the U.N. website without consulting with the United Nations secretariat.

U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres was not pleased.

“The report as it stands does not reflect the views of the secretary-general,” said U.N. Spokesman Stéphane Dujarric.

Meanwhile, the newly inaugurated Donald Trump Administration – which has repeatedly reaffirmed that America is Israel’s faithful ally – responded to the report with indignation.

U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Nikki Haley, declared in an official statement, “The United Nations secretariat was right to distance itself from this report, but it must go further and withdraw the report altogether.”

Israeli U.N. Ambassador Danny Danon was outraged:

The attempt to smear and falsely label the only true democracy in the Middle East by creating a false analogy is despicable and constitutes a blatant lie.

The report itself was authored by the infamous Richard Falk, a former U.N. human rights investigator for the Palestinian territories, and Virginia Tilley, professor of political science at Southern Illinois University.

Before leaving his post in 2014 as U.N. “Special Rapporteur on Human Rights in the Palestinian Territories,” Falk – a Princeton professor emeritus with radically anti-Israel views – declared that Israeli policies bore unacceptable characteristics of colonialism, apartheid and ethnic cleansing.

One of my most insightful journalist friends, Ruthie Blum, provided some essential background on Falk in an Israel Hayom column, pointing out that he is hardly a trustworthy voice regarding Middle East issues. Falk’s foolish glorification of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, founder of today’s treacherous Islamic Republic of Iran, should have been enough to disgrace any of his future pontifications. Blum explained,

On February 16, 1979, Falk published an op-ed in The New York Times called “Trusting Khomeini.” In it, he ‎waxed poetic about the Muslim cleric, who would turn Iran into the nuclear weapons-hungry ‎theocracy that it is today. “The depiction of [Khomeini] as fanatical, reactionary, and the bearer of crude ‎prejudices seems certainly and happily false,” Falk wrote.‎

He then went on to praise Shiite Islam: “What is distinctive, perhaps, about this religious orientation is ‎its concern with resisting oppression and promoting social justice,” he said, concluding, “Having ‎created a new model of popular revolution based, for the most part, on nonviolent tactics, Iran may ‎provide us with a desperately needed model of humane governance for a third-world country.”‎

Falk should have been discredited academically and politically ‎decades ago. Alas, people of his ilk, who purport to care about the issue of human rights while siding ‎with and apologizing for its greatest abusers, are not only immune to consequences, but are rewarded ‎with illustrious titles and lucrative positions. ‎

Haley concluded that Falk is “a man who has repeatedly made biased and deeply offensive comments about Israel and espoused ridiculous conspiracy theories.”

Perhaps because of Trump’s sanguine views about Israel, the false accusation was not rejected by only the U.S. The questionable report was also removed from the U.N. website. This rather surprising outcome took place thanks to the intervention of the U.N. secretary-general himself.

But that wasn’t the only result. Khalaf, who initially posted the ESCWA report, and who once served as an under-secretary-general to Guterres at the U.N., announced her resignation at a “hastily arranged press conference” after Guterres demanded that the report be removed.

Khalaf explained,

The secretary-general asked me yesterday morning to withdraw [the report]. I asked him to rethink his decision. He insisted, so I submitted my resignation from the U.N.

We expected, of course, that Israel and its allies would put huge pressure on the secretary-general of the U.N. so that he would disavow the report, and that they would ask him to withdraw it.

Dujarric clarified that “the secretary-general cannot accept that an under-secretary-general or any other senior U.N. official that reports to him would authorize the publication under the U.N. name – under the U.N. logo – without consulting the competent departments and even himself.”

So ended – and with a far better conclusion than might have been expected – the latest dishonest attempt to depict the Jewish State as a racist, discriminatory nation in which Arabs and/or Muslims are treated like second-class citizens: an apartheid state.

But of course the question remains whether this effort to disgrace the Jewish State will be the final challenge of its kind. We can only hope so.

However, just in case the libel reemerges, perhaps it is worth revisiting a couple of lessons I learned about the apartheid accusations when I was seeking answers of my own about it. Following is an (adapted) passage from my book Saturday People, Sunday People: Israel through the Eyes of a Christian Sojourner.

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I was about to have brunch with a friend at Jerusalem’s Mamilla Mall; we were waiting to be seated on a terrace where tables overlooking the Old City were in great demand. All at once, the spot we had our eye on was snapped up by two chic young Arab women. Their heads were covered in designer scarves and their well-fitted jeans and accessories were upscale. They were seated at table next to an “ultra-Orthodox” Jewish family in their own distinctive attire. And next to them was a table full of middle-aged American tourists in cargo shorts, souvenir t-shirts, and a clutter of cameras, GPS gadgets and fanny-packs.

I glanced around and saw that no one was paying attention to the Muslim women or to the many Arab shoppers passing by on their way to the shops. Nor did anyone stare at the ultra-Orthodox Jews – men in black hats or black yarmulkes, women in long skirts, wearing wigs or with scarves covering their hair.

In Jerusalem, like nowhere else, you can figure out what people believe in by the way they dress. But no one around us seemed to notice or care what anyone else was wearing – or believing. For obvious reasons, Jimmy Carter’s pejorative phrase for Israel, the “Apartheid State,” flashed into my mind.

It so happened that on that same night I was scheduled to have dinner with my South African friends Malcolm and Cheryl Hedding, their daughter Charmaine and her son Ethan. It had been a few years since my Jerusalem Post interview with Malcolm – about apartheid – had been published. I reminded him of it, and then described the scene at Mamilla. “So could that have happened in South Africa during the apartheid years?” I asked him.

“No way,” he laughed. “Everything was separate. The blacks had separate toilets. Separate drinking fountains. Separate benches. In some places there was a curfew so they had to get out of sight and leave the town to the whites after sundown. It was like the American Deep South used to be.”

“So could blacks eat in the same restaurant as whites?”

“Never! When we traveled with a black man who was part of our church, one of us had to go inside the restaurant and order take-out food so we could all eat together in the car. Otherwise he would have to eat alone.”

On the way home, I suddenly remembered another vignette from Mamilla. I had rushed into the Mac cosmetic store to make a quick purchase before leaving. I was in a hurry and there was only one clerk—a pretty Jerusalem girl wearing rather dramatic makeup. She was assisting two fashion-forward Arab women in silk headscarves, stylish trousers and well-tailored jackets. The three were having an animated discussion—in English—about eye shadow and eyeliner colors. The only disagreement between them had to do with hues: Teal or olive green? Luminescent or matte? There was no way I was going to be waited on anytime soon. The clerk was trying out a new spring palette on one of them, testing the colors on her hands as she applied them. The three of them were chattering non-stop.

As I left, I encountered a group of African pilgrims whose identical yellow caps told me they were from Nigeria. They burst into a Gospel song as they made their way to the Jaffa gate. People smiled and took their picture.

An art display of Bible-story sculptures graced the plaza. Cell phones rang, horns honked on the nearby street, and people of every age and description laughed and talked and celebrated the glorious weather.

And so it was that Spring arrived in the charming and controversial city of Jerusalem, eternal capital of the land of Israel.

Then as now, there are those choose to produce and propagate Fake News about the place, stubbornly refusing to seek out and discover the facts of the matter.

Meanwhile, the rest of us who love Israel and her Jewish people will continue to applaud their courage. To admire their innate goodness and authenticity. And to honor their deep commitment to Truth.

Mar 31, 2017 | American Foreign Policy, Christians and Minority Rights, Jerusalem Notebook, Jews and the Jewish State

During recent years, dramatic political changes have shaken the Middle East. Some have described these events metaphorically as “shifting desert sands.” They have also been defined as dramatic realignments of political seismic plates.

Some of the more terrifying changes have called to mind the proverbial “end of days.” Others look a little like minor miracles, so unlikely are the players and so unexpected their praiseworthy actions.

Who could have predicted, for example, that a young Saudi intellectual would visit Jerusalem and then courageously write an open letter to his generation, expressing both hope and desire for political transformation?

His dream? That Saudi Arabia’s vibrant young Defense Minister and Deputy Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman Al Saud will embrace a new vision for Saudi Arabia – including peace with Israel.

Consider the writer’s opening paragraph:

Having read the article in Foreign Affairs about Prince Mohammad bin Salman, and in the wake of publicity following his meeting with President Trump this week, I would like to offer a candid view that speaks for many Saudis of my generation. Like King Talut of the Holy Quran (corresponding to the biblical King Saul), whom the Quran credits with saving the Jewish people from an enemy bent on their destruction, the young prince bears a similar responsibility — addressing many challenges in order to achieve the goal of transforming his people to greater strength. Prince Mohammad bin Salman may well be God’s chosen to help lead Saudi Arabia through the political, economic, and social challenges it faces. This letter offers suggestions he may consider useful in dealing with them.

Yes, it really happened. Abdul-Hameed Hakeem’s open letter was published by the Washington Institute on March 21.

And here’s how it came to pass.

One excellent writer about Middle East realities is Ambassador Dore Gold, who until recently served as director-general of Israel’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He is now president of the highly regarded Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs.

Gold’s 2003 book, Hatred’s Kingdom, focused on Saudi Arabia and spelled out the precarious balancing act the oil-rich Arab country has been performing for decades – juggling two opposing forces: the secular Western world that buys massive amounts of its oil, and radical Islamism, embodied in Saudi’s Wahabi religious leadership.

In Hatred’s Kingdom, Gold summed up the danger personified by the Saudis:

President Bush asked, after the destruction of the World Trade Center and the attack on the Pentagon, whether nations are with the United States or with the terrorists. Despite Saudi Arabia’s insistence to the contrary, the record makes it frighteningly clear that the Saudi kingdom is, at this point, with the terrorists. Indeed, it is Saudi Arabia that has spawned the new global terrorists. Unless the Saudi regime feels pressure to change, the hatred that has motivated a horrifying series of worldwide terrorist attacks – including the attacks of September 11 – will only go on. And as long as the hatred continues, the terror will go on.

The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia’s leadership – its enormous royal family – has for decades relied on the West’s consumption of its petroleum resources to support the kingdom’s economy; Western oil purchases also finance the royals’ lavish and sometimes decadent lifestyle. But the royal family is, at the same time, obliged to enforce hardline religious laws established by the severe Wahabist religious system.

Wahabism, a sect that came into being in the 18th century, seeks to return Sunni Islam to its earliest roots – the days of Mohammad and his first followers. It curses both Christians (Crusaders) and Jews (sons of pigs and dogs), as was explicitly declared in several of Osama bin Laden’s pontifications.

Much of the anti-Jewish animus in Saudi Arabia is focused on Israel and Zionism. Israeli passport-bearers are banned from entering the country; even travelers with Israeli visas stamped in their passports are turned away. Obvious Jewish religious attire and symbols, such as Star of David jewelry, and religious books are also forbidden.

In December 2014, the Saudi government opened the door just a crack, declaring that Jews could work inside the kingdom. But they made it clear that their newfound openness to Jews did not include Israelis.

Gold’s book meticulously documents the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia’s dangerous ideology, which inspired Al-Qaeda and innumerable other Sunni jihadi groups.

These days, however, bin Laden is history; no longer the incarnation of Wahabism. At the same time, several stunning and unforeseen political events have perhaps permanently shifted Middle East politics.

First came the so-called Arab Spring in 2011. Despite its custodianship of Mecca and Medina – sometimes described as “Islam’s Vatican” – Saudi Arabia’s kings and princes have long attracted the ire of Sunni and Shia radicals alike. The Arab Spring perilously increased the likelihood of fanatical revolutionaries spilling across Saudi Arabia’s borders.

At the same time, it became uncomfortably clear that the Obama Administration was taking a hands-off approach to the Middle East turmoil, proving itself unwilling to stand behind its historic allies. This became alarmingly evident across the region after President Barack Obama’s “red line” regarding chemical weapons remained unenforced in the Syrian Civil War.

Then came unmitigated upheaval in Libya, Iraq and Egypt in which America seemed to side with her enemies and turn away from her allies.

Would the kingdom’s betrayal come next?

Meanwhile, the centuries-old Sunni-Shia conflict was edging toward center stage again. The gradual exposure of Obama’s initially secret negotiations with Iran – the avowed archenemy of the U.S., Israel and Saudi Arabia – encouraged and emboldened the Ayatollahs. Would the alleged (and likely) Iranian efforts to develop nuclear weapon ever actually be stopped?

On the other hand, there was no denying an impressive array of Israeli achievements: ever-increasing high tech innovation and mastery, cyberwarfare capabilities, natural gas discoveries, a flourishing economy, and thriving international relations. The successful international diplomacy of Prime Minister Benyamin Netanyahu – sometimes at the expense of Obama’s agenda – was reflected in his effective outreach to friends and former foes alike.

It was against this backdrop that an unexpected rapprochement between Saudi Arabia and Israel began. In June 2015, the Times of India reported that the Indian city Lucknow had hosted an unusual meeting between Israel and Saudi Arabia, also attended by prominent Shia intellectuals.

Interestingly, the Israeli team was led by Gold, who had just been named director-general of Israel’s Foreign Ministry. The Saudi delegation was led by a retired Saudi general, Anwar Majed Eshki.

The India conference was the culmination of numerous clandestine meetings that had taken place over nearly two years.

Soon thereafter, Gold and Eshki addressed the Washington-based Council on Foreign Relations. In the press conference that followed, both speakers drew attention to the serious flaws of the Iran nuclear deal, still being negotiated by the P5+1. And they both identified Iran as the chief threat to regional stability.

The two created a significant media ripple when they publicly shook hands.

In July 2016, an even more dramatic event took place. Eshki led a Saudi delegation to Ramallah, where he had been invited to meet with the Palestinian Authority. One evening, Eshki and his colleagues traveled from Ramallah to Jerusalem to meet Gold and other Israelis at the King David Hotel. The Times of Israel reported,

Eshki … told Israel’s Channel 10 News at the time that he and Gold had sat down together “to call for peace in the Middle East.” He said “Saudis and Israelis could work together when Israel announces that it accepts the Arab Initiative.”

There have been various media reports of clandestine talks between Israel and Arab powers, who have come to see the Jewish state as a possible ally against what they consider to be a far greater threat — Iran and its regional aspirations.

Netanyahu too has often spoken of growing secret ties with Arab nations, though experts have warned that the prospects of normalization of ties before peace with the Palestinians is achieved are dim.

The Jerusalem Post interviewed another member of the entourage, the young Saudi intellectual Abdul-Hameed Hakeem. He told BBC Arabic, “In Arab societies, the picture of Israeli society is that it embraces a culture of death, wants to spill blood, and does not believe in peace. That [picture] is not correct.” He continued, “The Israeli society that I encountered embraces a culture of peace, has accomplishments it wants to [protect], wants coexistence, and wants peace.”

Hakeem was amazed by what he saw and heard during his visit to Israel, and was moved by the evident freedom and the peaceable nature of the Israeli people he met.

He made the courageous decision to publish his open letter to young Saudis, who are represented by the 32-year-old deputy crown prince. Hakeem believes that alongside Prince Salman and others, he represents a new generation of Saudis who can see far beyond the present kingdom’s scope.

As for his own view of Israel, in his letter, Hakeem went on to say,

I would like to address a message to the Israeli people and to Jews around the world. Our Holy Quran confirms that you are an integral part of this region. Your civilization and the history of your ancestors was and still is part of our region’s history. Your State is a product of your civilization as well. You have also left a mark in Iraq, Syria, and Yemen, as well as in Najran and Khaibar and Medina, which remains visible to this day.

The policies of the Iranian regime are alarmingly similar to the Nazi policies that aimed to exterminate your people. Thus, the Iranian and Nazi regimes are two faces of the same coin in their enmity and hatred of you and the danger they pose. Nevertheless, please be assured that peace can be achieved, and your historical role in our region secured, within the framework of the Arab Peace Initiative. This process would also promote the achievement of peace with Israel within the framework of the Saudi (Arab) Peace Initiative. If achieved, it will save the region from the flames fueled by the Iranian regime, and also allow Saudi Arabia to openly partner with the many technological advances Israel offers.

Israel sees the Saudi peace proposal as flawed, due to its call for complete withdrawal to the 1967 border, or “Green Line.” But it is also viewed as a potentially viable starting point for negotiations.

Time will tell whether the seismic tremors that have so shaken the Middle East in recent years will expose new and lasting opportunities for alliance and cooperation.

One seasoned observer put it this way: “While speculations about secret Saudi-Israeli counter-terrorism and intelligence exchanges cannot be confirmed, it would be naïve to believe that the two countries have no contacts, especially given their mutuality of interest vis-à-vis Iran and defeating terror. There is no doubt that concerns in both Israel and Saudi Arabia about Iran’s ambitions and growing influence in the Middle East have brought these two adversaries of Iran closer.

“Secondly, although the Palestinian issue is highly important as is evident from Eshki’s statement during his visits … his public, even if unofficial, visit shows that Saudi Arabia is willing to take the risk of provoking domestic and Arab public anger by engaging with Israel.”

Few would have foreseen the quiet but consistent diplomatic conversations that are taking place between Israel and a number of Muslim states.

Meanwhile, the author of Hatred’s Kingdom is courageously pursuing a course that could transform hatred into hope.

A delegation of brave and visionary Saudi Arabians have made their way into the heart of Jerusalem to listen and learn.

And a young Saudi scholar has openly offered his dream of peace between two dangerously estranged nations.

Are these simply political machinations? Or do they amount modern-day minor miracles? They are clearly more than “shifting desert sands.” And miraculous or not, such brave efforts kindle a flicker of hope in our dark and troubled world.

Apr 10, 2017 | Jerusalem Notebook, Jews and the Jewish State, Perspectives, Religious Freedom and Dialogue

Holidays in Israel are interwoven into daily life so beautifully that to me, after just a few years, they seemed to ebb and flow like the tide. Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Purim. And, of course, Passover – Pesach – which is about to begin, marking both the beginning of spring, and more importantly the great miracle of deliverance, freedom and the Exodus.

As a Christian sojourner in Jerusalem, my earliest awareness of Passover’s annual approach usually takes place, of all places, at the grocery store. I begin to notice that several products are not located where they’re supposed to be: The cookies or bread rolls or cereal items I came to buy seem to have disappeared.

Then I remember. They contain yeast, or chametz.

No leavened foods are supposed to be eaten during the eight-day Passover festival. Matzo crackers famously replace bread. And (depending on the level of orthodoxy that’s being observed) not a trace of chametz should be found in the house. For a similar reason, the foods in the market that contain yeast are hidden beneath a curtain or sheet.

And that leads to another sign of the arriving holiday: exhausted women (mostly) who are engaged in rigorous housecleaning. This climaxes the night before Passover in the symbolic burning of any chametz found on the family premises. That, of course, includes cookie and bread crumbs. And needless to say, the more small children there are in the family, the more intensive the cleaning.

But, like most matters of Jewish tradition, it’s not just about the physical world – in this case, the presence of yeast. The symbolic burning has its own spiritual meaning as well. It represents that removal from our lives any remnants of unholiness that may be polluting our souls.

As the sunlit days grow longer, the anticipated evening finally arrives. The chametz has been burned, enormous amounts of food have been prepared and special tablecloths, plates and cutlery have made their annual appearance. And across Jerusalem, throughout the land of Israel, the feast – the Seder – begins.

In my book Saturday People, Sunday People, I described a memorable Seder at which I was a guest, and what I learned that night.

The Seder focuses on Exodus 12, which teaches us about the Jews’ plight, God’s calling and ordination of Moses, Moses’ confrontations with a stone-hearted Pharaoh, the 10 plagues that were visited upon the Egyptians and – the most horrifying judgment of all – the death of Egypt’s firstborn. These plagues eventually changed the mind of Pharaoh, at least temporarily.

But as soon as the huge procession of Jews headed toward Egypt’s borderlands, Pharaoh had second thoughts. Why should he give up his invaluable work force? Disastrously, he ordered his army to pursue the fleeing slaves. The frantic soldiers tried to catch up with the Jews in the midst of the Red Sea, which had been supernaturally parted to provide dry land for the Israelites’ hurrying feet. The Egyptian soldiers were not so blessed; they were swept away and drowned when the parted waters suddenly broke over them like a tidal wave.

The epic Exodus tale of faith and freedom is recounted in the Haggadah – the “Telling” – which is the Seder’s liturgy. The “telling” is based on the commandment, “And thou shalt tell thy son in that day, saying: It is because of that which the LORD did for me when I came forth out of Egypt” (Ex. 13:8). Each Seder guest is provided with a copy of the Haggadah. And every child old enough to understand participates in the reading and ritual.

When I arrived at my first Seder, I had of course heard the Exodus story, but had little understanding of Passover’s traditions. That dinner was held in the home of a scholarly and revered rabbi.

It was easy to “disappear” into that room and be a silent spectator. The lengthy dinner reflected the hosts’ devotion to the Haggadah and thus to the biblical tale. In a sense, as the rabbi’s wife and daughters cooked the meal (the amount of work they had done was almost unimaginable), they brought to life, in the form of food, the oral and biblical tradition of the Israelites’ harried flight from their oppressors.

We tasted of the bitterness of Egypt in the form of bitter herbs; we recalled the suddenness of the departure from Egypt with the matzos (as the Jews fled, there was no time for bread made with yeast to rise). We ate a paste of apples and nuts that represented the mortar that had once set in place the bricks with which the Jews labored. We drank four cups of blessed, sweet wine. At the end, everyone sang together.

As I pointed out, every food on the Seder plate has a distinct meaning.

The shank bone, zeroa` – a lamb or roasted chicken leg bone – represents the Paschal lamb that was hurriedly eaten on the eve of the Israelites’ departure from Egypt, when the blood of the lamb was used to mark their houses, protecting their firstborn from the 10th and final plague.

Charoset is a mixture of nuts, fruit, wine and spices. As I mentioned, this symbolizes the mortar with which the enslaved Jews labored.

Maror, bitter herbs, is usually horseradish, recalling the bitterness of slavery.

Karpas – parsley or any other green vegetable – embodies the flourishing of the Jewish people when they first arrived in Egypt during a deadly drought (it may also have other interpretations).

Beitzah – a roasted egg – illustrates not only an ancient temple ritual, but also the coming of spring and new life.

A covered plate holds three pieces of matzo.

Also on the table is a bowl of salt water (representing tears), a wine glass for each guest, and an extra wine glass for Elijah the Prophet.

Jews from different parts of the world have their own unique traditions, but these foods specifically represent the deliverance of the Jews from slavery, and their Exodus into the Land of Promise.

And, no matter where on earth they come from, they all end their feast with the same phrase: Next year in Jerusalem.

In the rest of the world, this expresses a hope of return to the ancient homeland. To Israelis, it is a prayer that the Lord who delivered them from Egypt will continue to protect not only Jerusalem, but the entire land of Israel, surrounded as it is by enemies.

One of the most compelling aspects of Passover, as well as the other Jewish holidays, is Judaism’s commitment to remembrance. In the case of Passover, it isn’t simply the miraculous deliverance by God’s hand that is recalled. Jews also reflect upon the agony of enslavement, slavery’s harsh labor and abuses, and their bitter tears.

In my view, it is this communal memory that inspires an exceptional nature of compassion in the Jewish people. Remembering their own painful history, Jews almost reflexively seek ways to alleviate suffering whenever and wherever they are confronted by it – whether injustice, murder, enslavement or other cruelties.

For example, for several years I’ve spoken to audiences about the persecution of Christians, and particularly about the genocide taking place in Iraq, Syria and of course Egypt – nation states where the Jews themselves were mistreated, murdered or expelled not so many years go.

When questions are invited, someone from the Jewish community invariably raises a hand and asks, “Why aren’t Christians doing more to stop the persecution of their people?”

That is, to put it mildly, a disturbingly difficult question. If only I knew the answer.

But this much is indisputable: The Jewish people are reminded, year in and year out, of their long and painful history as they observe their holy holidays – particularly Passover. They have managed to remain a people “set apart” – through faith, tradition, scholarship and ethnicity – for millennia. And tragically, during the last 2,000 years or so, much of their suffering came at the hands of “Christians.”

Not only do the Jewish people care for their own, but Israel’s outreach to the rest of the world is astonishing. When disaster strikes, an Israeli field hospital appears on the ground in some inhospitable location within less than 48 hours. The stories of medical care for enemy combatants during the Syrian war are astounding. And the medical research that emanates from Israel offers lifesaving options to those who suffer from innumerable illnesses – all around the globe.

Perhaps it’s no wonder. I found this Pesach passage in a prayer book I was given decades ago by a beloved California rabbi – now deceased –named Chaim Asa. He embodied the kindness and compassion for all people that is articulated so beautifully in the prayer:

Great was our people’s joy
After generations of bondage
to be free!

Now we, their children,
Triumph in our heritage of freedom.

Exultant and awed
They sang and wept:
The people in chains were free!

Now we, their children
Hear their song
Resounding in the heart.

Oh God, blessed Source of freedom,
Let the time come speedily
When all the oppressed shall find deliverance.

Let the yoke of bondage be dissolved
And all people serve You in freedom.

May this Passover feast
Bring us new understanding
Of the holiness of freedom.

Then we will rejoice before You,
With festive gladness, O God.

This is the day the Lord has made;
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Apr 24, 2017 | Jerusalem Notebook, Jews and the Jewish State

Once a year in Israel, when spring flowers are at their most beautiful, it happens at precisely 10 a.m. At that moment, the wail of an air raid siren suddenly pierces the morning air, and as the whine fades, silence steals across the land for two long minutes.

Cars stop where they are. Drivers and passengers get out and stand quietly next to their vehicles. On Jerusalem’s busy sidewalks, pedestrians halt in their tracks. Housewives, merchants and shoppers turn away from what they’ve been doing, step outside, and stand soberly in the sunlight, lost in thought or unspoken prayer.

This is Yom HaShoah, the Day of the Shoah – Holocaust Memorial Day – when Israel stops and remembers. Nearly everyone embraces some personal recollection of loss, and more than a few hold an entire scrapbook of bittersweet memories close to their hearts.

The night before, a state ceremony will have taken place at Jerusalem’s Yad Vashem – the World Holocaust Remembrance Center – where personal accounts and documentation of the Holocaust are carefully guarded for future generations.

As the sky darkens, those attending the ceremony watch as the flag of Israel is lowered to half-staff. The prime minister and president eulogize the terrible historical record. Six torches representing the 6 million Jewish victims of Adolf Hitler’s “Final Solution” are lit by elderly Holocaust survivors. Then one of them provides a personal account of both the misery she suffered and her own near-miraculous deliverance.

These days, just about everyone – Jews and non-Jews alike – has heard Holocaust stories. In America and Europe, many have immersed themselves in Elie Weisel’s historical books or wept over Anne Frank’s Diary. Few have missed “Schindler’s List,” stunned by its haunting soundtrack.

In Israel, however, remembering the Holocaust isn’t about a book or a movie. Even seven decades after the liberation of the last death camp, for the Jewish people, the Shoah remains deeply personal and painful. Among my own Israeli friends, several have spoken to me about the loss of family members. Some have lost dozens. Just days ago one friend wrote,

To answer your question about family members murdered during the Holocaust, it took me a while to do the math. It comes to at least 30 individuals whom I know of (great aunts/uncles, their spouses and children). That doesn’t include friends of my grandparents’ I remember hearing about, or friends my father left behind when they fled Europe.

In 2006, among the first people I met in Israel was a family living in Ariel. They were a far cry from the international media’s stereotypical “religious fanatics,” as Jews living in settlements are often portrayed. In fact, that father of three was a defiant and avowed atheist. He had lost 40 family members to Hitler’s Final Solution. He told me that he found it utterly impossible to believe in a God who would permit such carnage.

The faith of some Jews was most certainly a casualty of the Holocaust. But that wasn’t the only response. Some tell a far different story – of indescribable courage and victorious trust in God.

One of my Israeli friends, Tova Davidovics Lebovits, has written a beautiful tribute to her father. I hope you’ll take the time to read the whole article. She began,

“I am the child of Holocaust survivors. I belong to the generation that will always be overshadowed by the calamity of our parents. I belong to a generation of kinless childhoods, where we grew up without grandparents, numerous uncles, aunts, cousins and relatives who had perished, yet whose silent presence loomed in the background.

“I belong to a generation that has to face the horrors of the past, and bridge that past to an uncertain future.

“My father, Shammai Davidovics, taught me to fight for life. He could not speak about what happened to him during the war, nor of his family who perished. He kept a life-long self-imposed silence, which I painfully learned to accept despite my need to know.”

Lebovits continued,

One time in Israel, my brother Shmuel got on a public bus with my father. The driver took a look at my father, became very emotional, got up, hugged him hard, and began weeping and crying my father’s name, “Shammai, Shammai.” He refused to take payment, sat my father in the front seat, and as he drove began telling his tale to the astonished riders.

This bus driver told how my father – disguised as a priest – came and rescued a young chassidic boy, himself.

Apparently, my father’s priestly disguise had become almost his second identity. It enabled him to travel from village to village for weeks at a time on, even entering concentration camps and thus saving lives.

How did this disguise come about? While attending university, he was required to remain in class during Christian prayers and theology classes. He learned his lessons well and was also fluent in Latin. This oddity later saved his life many times, and helped save others. God works in mysterious ways.

My father used his black graduation robe from rabbinical seminary as his priestly garb. He became a traveling priest, the kind that kept a special pouch with various relics and talisman, holy to the Christians and especially the peasants, and he knew how to perform the various rituals. He always had two “altar boys” to assist him, and he would pick them up here and there where he would find lost Jewish children. He would dress them in gentile clothes and teach them their prayers and duties, and they would travel together until he found a way out for them.

This particular bus driver was one of those he’d smuggled out of hell to Israel.

Christians are grateful to cherish their own Holocaust heroes, who are often recalled by Israelis as “Righteous Gentiles,” or “Righteous Among the Nations.” Just months before I arrived in Israel, I visited a “safe house” in Haarlem, Holland. It is the home of the Christian ten Boom family, where hundreds of Jews were temporarily sheltered from the Nazis.

Two young sisters, Betsie and Corrie, were eventually swept up in a Nazi raid for their part in an underground railroad network, helping move hundreds of Jews from one safe house to another until they were out of harm’s way. I was amazed to learn that the ten Booms even provided kosher food for their “guests.”

For their good deeds, the two sisters ended up at Ravensbrück concentration camp, where Betsie died, leaving Corrie to tell the tale; she died in 1983. The family house still stands, and visitors can explore the cleverly designed secret compartment that served as a hiding place.

The sisters’ 80-year-old father, Willem ten Boom, did more than shelter Jews. When his Jewish friends were required by the Third Reich to put on the notorious yellow armband marked with the Star of David, Willem wore the armband too. And despite his friends’ frantic insistence that he save his own skin, he refused to take it off. He said that if his friends were mistreated for being Jews, he would be mistreated with them.

And so he was. He died in a jail cell, awaiting his own transfer to Ravensbrück.

Hearing about the ten Boom sisters’ and the old man’s bravery made me ask myself whether I would ever possess such courage. I could only answer, I don’t know, but I hope so. Perhaps with that in mind, a short time later I moved to Israel.

As Lebovits wrote, facing the Holocaust’s horrors unfortunately bridges the sorry past to an uncertain future. And it seems that the uncertainty of that future is upon us. In January, speaking of the Holocaust, Israeli Prime Minister Benyamin Netanyahu emphasized the vulnerability of the Jewish People:

As we remember the victims and this crime, we must never forget the roots of our greatest disaster: the insatiable hatred for the Jewish people. Antisemitism – which is the world’s oldest hatred – is experiencing a revival in the enlightened West. You can see this in European capitals … and few would have imagined that this would be possible a few years ago.

With the resurgence of Jew-hatred continuing to rise and swell in Europe, with threats of “Death to Israel” resonating from Iran, my son and I visited Yad Vashem together one chilly winter day. We made our way through the exhibitions, from one horrifying photograph to the next, from one scratchy, recorded voice to another, from one victim’s recollection, each worse than the one before.

It’s odd how such horrors try to escape us. A strange wall of disbelief – something this evil simply couldn’t have happened – attempts to eclipse the indisputable evidence. How could educated, worldly-wise European humans attempt to destroy an entire race of people?

Yet somehow, as Netanyahu pointed out, that same insane loathing of Jews that brought forth the Holocaust is indeed reemerging exponentially – not only in Western Europe and parts of North America, but even more dramatically in Iran and elsewhere in the Middle East.

When my son and I finally exited Yad Vashem that day, feeling disoriented and somewhat despairing, we walked directly into a downpour. A few days later, I tried to find words for that last impression:

Stung by icy rain,
By a bitter slap of wind
We stopped and took one last look
As a tide of sorrow
Seemed to spill through the glass doors behind us,
Soaking the sidewalks,
Drenching our thin coats,
Pouring down our faces.

Even the dripping trees across the way,
Deeply rooted in deeds of righteousness,
Murmured among themselves
Of resurgent dangers, ancient libels, deadly designs;
They rustled with timeless entreaties, echoing our own.

Our Father who art in Heaven.
Eloheinu Melech Ha’Olam
Please. Never again.

May 31, 2017 | Current Events, Jerusalem Notebook, Muslims and Muslim Majority States

The following column first appeared in Fox News Opinion on FoxNews.com, the website of the Fox News Channel. Used with permission.

The first thing I read on Friday morning was that 28 Egyptians in the Sinai had been murdered by terrorists, with more than 20 others wounded. And my first thought was clear and to the point:

Maybe this will finally wake up the Egyptian authorities.

The grisly attack, carried out with firearms, took place on an isolated road in the Sinai desert – a sparsely populated region of Egypt where some believe the Islamic State is setting up a new base of operations in the wake of their losses in Iraq and Egypt.

The victims belonged to a church group of Coptic Christians and many of them were children. They were on their way to pray at the Monastery of St. Samuel the Confessor.

The victims belonged to a church group of Coptic Christians and many of them were children. They were on their way to pray at the Monastery of St. Samuel the Confessor.

Coptic scholar Samuel Tadros described the scene in The New York Times: “The terrorists waited on the road like game hunters. Coming their way were three buses, one with Sunday school children. Only three of them survived. Their victims were asked to recite the Islamic declaration of faith before being shot.”

Of course it wasn’t the first attack on Egypt’s Christians this year. It seems like just yesterday when, on Palm Sunday, two Cairo churches were bombed, and during those twin assaults a total of 45 people were killed and 126 injured.

“Maybe this will finally wake up the Egyptian authorities,” I remember thinking at the time.

In March, just weeks before, and again in Sinai, hundreds of Christian families fled their homes after ISIS threatened to slaughter them. And it wasn’t an idle threat – seven Christian men were found dead, their bodies discarded along roadways like so much trash.

Last year was no better. In May 2016, I wrote, “A riot – based on a salacious rumor – led to ferocious violence against a Coptic family in El-Karm, located in Egypt’s southern province of Minya. Some 300 raging Islamists stripped a 70-year-old mother naked and paraded her, shamed and weeping, through the streets of her hometown, while torching seven Christian houses.

“Then, on December 11, a suicide bomber attacked St. Peter and St. Paul Coptic Orthodox Church in Cairo, killing 29 and injured dozens.”

At the time, MEMRI reported, “Jihadis took to social media to express their satisfaction, even before any organization claimed responsibility. Many ISIS supporters shared posts on social media … explaining why Egypt’s Coptic Christians deserve punishment, while others vowed that Egyptian Christians will either be expelled or slaughtered.”

ISIS militants have since identified Christians as their “favorite prey.”

After the murder of Sinai’s Christian children on Friday morning, and perhaps due to President Donald Trump’s recent demands that Arab countries aggressively rein in their terrorists, Fox News reported:

Egypt’s military fought back against the attackers who stormed a bus full of Coptic Christians and killed 28 people on their way to a monastery to pray, President Abdel-Fattah el-Sisi said Friday.

The Egyptian military struck bases where the attackers had trained, the president said without elaborating. No group immediately claimed responsibility for the attack, but Egypt’s Coptic Christians have become the preferred target of the Islamic State in the region.

Is it too much to believe that this most recent bloodshed, particularly targeting children, has finally awakened the Egyptian authorities?

We can hope. And we can certainly pray. But only time will tell.

Jun 5, 2017 | Jerusalem Notebook, Jews and the Jewish State

Every year in Jerusalem, when early June arrives, poignant recollections of the Six-Day War come to mind. We remember the life-and-death battle that Israel fought in 1967 against an array of Arab nations.

And this year – June 2017 – marks that war’s 50th anniversary.

Even before Israel declared statehood in 1948, warlike Arab nations threatened the survival of its Jewish population. And after statehood, more than ever, they called for the fledgling nation to be “wiped off the map.”

A trio of enemies – Egypt, Syria and Jordan – had diligently prepared themselves for an inevitable confrontation. To make matters worse, they enjoyed financial, diplomatic and – briefly at times – military support from 10 other equally hostile Arab nations.

In 1965, Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser declared, “We shall not enter Palestine with its soil covered in sand; we shall enter it with its soil covered in blood.”

After the 1967 War was said and done, the Arabs called it an-Naksah – “The Setback.”

Israelis and their friends simply called it a miracle.

The miraculous happened, at least in part, thanks to the remarkable prowess of the Israel Defense Forces and the tireless planning, courage and brilliance of its commanders. Still, Israel’s brave soldiers had to fight their hearts out, against all odds.

In 1967, the State of Israel was only 19 years old. And despite its successes during the 1948 War of Independence, East Jerusalem – including the historic Jewish Quarter – had been lost.

Meanwhile, by 1967, Soviet-backed Arab states – motivated both by nationalistic and religious dogmas – felt justified in preparing for Israel’s destruction.

To make matters worse, though war was threatened, Israel had no real allies. France had turned a cold shoulder; Britain was politely ambiguous, and although the United States claimed to be interested in Israel’s wellbeing, it was unwilling to make a concrete commitment to her support.

In short, the Jewish State was on her own.

Certainly, the last thing Israel wanted was a war. But by spring 1967, it was clear that sooner rather than later, the first shot would surely be fired.

Israeli Prime Minister Levi Eshkol warned on May 11,

In view of the 14 incidents of sabotage and infiltration perpetrated in the past month alone, Israel may have no other choice but to adopt suitable countermeasures against the focal points of sabotage. Israel will continue to take action to prevent any and all attempts to perpetrate sabotage within her territory. There will be no immunity for any state which aids or abets such acts.

Then came a particularly menacing incident: Nasser demanded that the United Nations Emergency Force, which was serving as a buffer between Israel and Egypt, be removed from the Sinai Peninsula.

UNEF obediently withdrew.

At the same time, Egypt was massing tens of thousands of troops and nearly 1,000 tanks, all facing Israel. Today, war historians say that some half a million Arab troops – Egyptian, Syrian and Jordanian – were prepared to attack Israel. Around 250,000 were initially deployed.

Meanwhile, the Russians spread the false rumor that Israel was assembling troops on the Syrian border, about to launch an offensive. In fact, the opposite was true. Syria was actively instigating the impending conflict.

By then, everyone knew that war was in the air. The Israelis were enduring an agonizing and suspenseful build-up to the looming conflict. All reserve soldiers were called into active duty. Young men dug trenches and graves; families obeyed home-front security drills; and everyone tried to ignore the relentless, hateful threats emanating from all sides. Many would recall, years later, that it was one of the most nerve-wracking times of their lives.

Then came Nasser’s decisive and ultimately deadly move. On May 23, he closed the Red Sea shipping lanes – the Straits of Tiran – to all Israel-flagged vessels. American President Lyndon Johnson later remarked,

If a single act of folly was more responsible for this explosion than any other, it was the arbitrary and dangerous announced decision that the Straits of Tiran would be closed. The right of innocent maritime passage must be preserved for all nations.

Even now, 50 years later, the events of those terrible days crescendo like an ominous drumbeat. It gradually deepened, intensified and finally exploded into a deafening, heart-stopping battle.

The Israelis launched a preemptive aerial attack on Egypt on June 5, 1967.

Michael Oren is an acclaimed historian, former Israeli ambassador to the U.S. and author of the meticulously researched book Six Days of War: June 1967 and the Making of the Modern Middle East. He wrote,

It started at 7:10 in the morning of June, 5, 1967, Israel time. By 7:30, close to 200 planes were aloft. With them went the orders, issued that morning, by Air Force Commander Mordechai “Motti” Hod,

“The spirit of Israel’s heroes accompany us to battle. From Joshua ben-Nun, King David, the Maccabees and the fighters of 1948 and 1956, we shall draw the strength and courage to strike the Egyptians who threaten our safety, our independence and our future. Fly, soar at the enemy, destroy him and scatter him throughout the desert so that Israel may live, secure in its land, for generations.”

Israeli planes roared into view while Egypt’s pilots were enjoying their breakfast; only four unarmed Egyptian training flights were in the air. The rest of Egypt’s aircraft were on the ground at several bases.

The Israelis relentlessly bombarded them. They continued to attack for hours, rearming and refueling planes more quickly than anyone imagined possible.

Oren wrote, “In little over half an hour, the Egyptians had lost 204 planes – half of their air force – all but nine of them on the ground.”

A historical report later confirmed that, during the course of the 1967 War, 452 Arab aircraft were destroyed. “The entire Jordanian Air Force, the entire Syrian Air Force and most of the Egyptian Air force was eliminated.”

Along with the aerial attack, Israel’s ground war began on June 5 against Egypt’s burgeoning forces in Sinai.

As for Jordan, Israel had no interest in fighting against her. But although their relations had always been less hostile than with Syria or Egypt, repeated efforts to avoid confrontation failed.

On June 6, after repeated bombardments by the Jordanians, Israel moved troops not only into East Jerusalem but also into historic Judea and Samaria – the West Bank.

The next day, after intense fighting, the IDF consolidated control over all Jordanian-held territories. The subsequent Israeli “occupation” of the West Bank, the legality of which has been debated for half a century, continues to this day.

Jordan suffered one humiliating loss after another.

Since the 1948 War of Independence, Israelis had not been permitted to enter Jerusalem’s Jordan-held Jewish Quarter, or to approach the Western Wall (often called the Wailing Wall), the holiest site of Jewish prayer. In fact, General Motti Gur – commander of the Jerusalem operation – can be heard inquiring on one radio broadcast, “Tell me, where is the Western Wall? How do we get there?”

On June 7, the IDF surged into Jerusalem’s Old City through the Lion’s Gate and advanced rapidly toward the Western Wall and the Temple Mount.

The aftermath of the Jerusalem battle was summed in a simple statement in Hebrew that electrifies Israelis to this day. It couldn’t have been clearer or more to the point: “Har haBayit be Yadenu!”

“The Temple Mount is in our hands!”

Eloquent photographs appeared in newspapers around the world, capturing the awestruck faces of young Israeli soldiers, standing in amazement at the Western Wall. Not long thereafter, Yitzhak Rabin – future prime minister of Israel – stood in the shadow of the Wall and declared,

The sacrifices of our comrades have not been in vain. The countless generations of Jews murdered, martyred and massacred for the sake of Jerusalem say to you, “Comfort ye our people, console the mothers and the fathers, whose sacrifices have brought about redemption.”

It is astonishing, in retrospect, to realize that on the same day Israel took back Jerusalem from the Jordanians, an entirely different IDF operation seized control of Egypt’s Sharm El Sheikh, on the Red Sea shoreline.

And from Sharm, on June 6, the IDF broke the Egyptian naval blockade of the Straits of Tiran which had sparked the war.

In the meantime, despite key Israeli victories that had taken place in Egypt, Sinai, Gaza and the West Bank, the war wasn’t over. In the north, the Syrian Army was persistently shelling Israeli villages – kibbutzim – from vantage points in the Golan Heights and along Israel’s northern borders.

This ignited a ferocious IDF engagement with Syria which involved fiery tank battles and, at times, even hand-to-hand combat.

Finally, on June 10, Syria was also defeated.

A ceasefire between Israel and the surrounding nations soon followed. Newsday summed up the results.

After just six days of fighting, Israel controlled the Sinai Peninsula and the Gaza strip, the Golan Heights, the West Bank, and all of Jerusalem. The new Israel was more than three times larger than the old one. It was oddly reminiscent of Genesis: six days of intense effort followed by a day of rest, in this case the signing of a ceasefire.

The 1967 War ended with such a dramatic conclusion that the facts are still, to this day, hard to fathom. Analysts cite it as one of the greatest military victories in modern times. Many of us still shake our heads in wonder.

Oren has described the war’s impact on his family:

I will never forget my father rushing to the breakfast table, waving a copy of Life. On the cover was a photo of an Israeli soldier chest-deep in the Suez Canal, a captured Kalashnikov brandished over his head. “You see that?” he shouted. “That is what we can do!” And then he kissed the picture.

Far away in California, young as I was, I still recall listening to a radio broadcast at the war’s conclusion with a secular Jewish man named David Rabinowitz. He shook his head in disbelief as he heard the news.

“There’s only one explanation,” he told me, and he all but shouted the ancient words: “Ten thousand will fall at the hand of one Jew!” His face was flushed with joy.

Later, when I talked to my father about the Israeli triumph, his eyes flooded with tears.

“I’ve seen the Bible come alive in my lifetime,” he told me, his voice breaking. “First the Jews were re-gathered in their homeland. And now this?

“It really is a miracle.”

Jun 13, 2017 | American Foreign Policy, Current Events, Jerusalem Notebook, Jews and the Jewish State

The United States Embassy to Israel has been located in Tel Aviv since the 1940s. But now, in 2017, the address of the embassy has become the center of a contentious political discussion, both in and around Israel.

Why? Well, as the saying goes, it’s complicated. But the shortest possible version of the ongoing debate goes like this:

As a presidential candidate, Donald Trump promised to move the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. As president, he has decided to at least delay the move, and has signed a waiver stating that the embassy will not be moved from Tel Aviv for six months.

The White House statement reads,

While President Donald J. Trump signed the waiver under the Jerusalem Embassy Act and delayed moving the U.S. Embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, no one should consider this step to be in any way a retreat from the president’s strong support for Israel and for the United States-Israel alliance. President Trump made this decision to maximize the chances of successfully negotiating a deal between Israel and the Palestinians, fulfilling his solemn obligation to defend America’s national security interests. But, as he has repeatedly stated his intention to move the embassy, the question is not if that move happens, but only when.

It may yet happen, but nothing is certain.

But since there’s time to spare, perhaps Trump, Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Ambassador David Friedman should take a long, hard look at some of the present U.S. government employees, both at the U.S. Embassy in Tel Aviv and the American Consulate in Jerusalem.

Although Israel regards Jerusalem as its capital, the United States doesn’t agree – at least not officially. Neither do any of the other 85 countries with embassies in Israel, all of which are located in Tel Aviv. Nine countries have consulates in Jerusalem, and these primarily serve the West Bank (Judea and Samaria).

Of course, moving the U.S. Embassy is not a real estate deal, nor would it be simply a matter of transporting furniture and file cabinets a few miles up the road. It will be – if and when it happens – a statement that America recognizes Jerusalem as the capital of the Jewish State.

And that is a very hotly disputed issue.

Since many countries do not officially recognize Jerusalem as an Israeli city at all – refusing even to print the words “Jerusalem, Israel” on official documents – moving the U.S. Embassy is, to say the least, controversial.

This isn’t altogether surprising, especially in light of a UNESCO pronouncement made last fall. The United Nations’ notorious declaration – which was initially submitted by Algeria, Egypt, Lebanon, Morocco, Oman, Qatar and Sudan – officially claimed that the Temple Mount, the Western Wall and the Old City of Jerusalem are the “Cultural Heritage of Palestine.”

This disavows Jerusalem’s historical and religious connection with both Judaism and Christianity.

As I wrote for Fox News at the time,

Attempts to de-Judaize – and thus de-Christianize – Jerusalem and the rest of Israel seem to have begun in earnest in 2000 at Camp David, when Yasser Arafat famously informed President Bill Clinton that there was never a Jewish Temple on the Temple Mount. This latest UNESCO resolution is simply a continuation of that mythology.

Such falsehoods continue to flourish in large portions of the Muslim world.

Meanwhile, as far as the embassy move is concerned, Trump isn’t the first candidate to make such a vow. Barack Obama, of course, never mentioned it. But both Bill Clinton and George W. Bush offered similar promises. And they both signed the waiver every six months, leaving the decision for some future president to worry about.

But Trump, who is well known for his self-declared expertise as a dealmaker, seems to have more in mind than the usual procrastinated promise to the Israelis. He has repeatedly spoken of a “deal” between the Israelis and Palestinians that will finally resolve the Middle East “peace process.”

Some see the embassy issue as a tactic in Trump’s deal-making scenario.

Trump’s reiterating his promise to move the embassy also functions as a pressure tactic, said Hussein Ibish, a scholar at the Arab Gulf States Institute:

By signing the waiver, he avoids creating a problem. But by saying he still intends to move the embassy, he protects himself, protects Netanyahu, and is still holding out the threat to the Arabs and the Palestinians that look, there’s still something on the other side, so cooperate with me.

There are numerous other shades of opinion. One of my friends, no stranger to diplomatic debates, firmly disagrees with Trump’s decision. “The president would have had a far stronger negotiating position if he had moved the embassy. He made a bad decision.”

An Israeli friend who works with high-level policy advisors told me that her colleagues are all disappointed. The move’s not taking place “was indeed anticipated, but still a disappointment. More disappointing was how disconcerting it is to see President Trump employing ‘linkage’ – i.e. the idea that an Israeli-Palestinian peace deal is key to all other possible agreements.”

Still another Israeli friend, journalist Ruthie Blum, summed up the disagreements like this:

Israelis who care about moving the embassy believe it will settle the issue of the U.S. position on Israeli sovereignty in Jerusalem – sealing its legitimacy.

Left-wing Israelis think Jerusalem should be divided anyway, and they don’t want to antagonize the Palestinians.

And Centrists think it shouldn’t be a problem, since the embassy would be in West Jerusalem.

Along with specifically political concerns, there’s also a very real possibility that violence – incited by Hamas or other radical Muslim groups – could erupt. The staging of an “uprising” or intifada would be their angry response to any official declaration of Israeli authority over Jerusalem.

In any case, as of today, the United States Embassy in Israel has not been moved. And its relocation is unlikely to take place before the six-month presidential waiver expires.

In the meantime, in my opinion, the anti-Israel attitude of some U.S. government employees is more troubling than the U.S. Embassy’s location.

In Israel, stories abound about the rude treatment of Israelis visiting the Tel Aviv Embassy, applying for U.S. visas. Too often, little or no effort is made to accommodate their specific needs. Even urgent concerns can be dismissed with chilly finality.

And the U.S. Jerusalem Consulate is notoriously worse. On several occasions, I’ve watched with dismay as Jewish Americans – often young parents with babies and toddlers – are treated with cold indifference by the almost entirely non-Jewish staff. And the more religiously attired the American Jews are, the less warmly they are welcomed.

A similarly arrogant attitude was exposed just days before Trump’s visit to Jerusalem in May. Haaretz reported that when a staffer from Prime Minister’s Benjamin Netanyahu’s office (PMO) asked the president’s advance team how they could help prepare for Trump’s visit to the Western Wall,

Diplomats from the American consulate in Jerusalem … asserted that the Western Wall is part of the West Bank, implying that Israel has no sovereignty over the site. The PMO employees responded furiously, terming the diplomats’ statements unacceptable.

The reality is that the Jerusalem Consulate perceives itself simply as an outreach to the Palestinians in Jerusalem, the West Bank and Gaza. Its Facebook page is worded in Arabic and English only – not in Hebrew.

At the same time, it is the only U.S. consulate in the world (apart from Hong Kong) that does not operate under the authority of the U.S. Embassy.

Since the 1940s, the American Consulate in Jerusalem has reported directly to the U.S. State Department.

In 1940, before Israel was declared a state, the “American ambassador in Tel Aviv [James McDonald] … tried to give orders to the consul general in Jerusalem, but the consul general would have none of it. The consulate insisted on reporting directly to the State Department rather than through an embassy, and continues to do so today.”

Historically, the State Department has had Arabist leanings, and has at times been clearly anti-Israel. The U.S. Consulate in Jerusalem mirrors those perspectives.

It is certainly true that moving the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem would send a clear message to the world: America recognizes Jerusalem as Israel’s undisputed capital.

But meanwhile, why not move the anti-Israel bureaucrats out of the U.S. Embassy in Tel Aviv and the U.S. Consulate in Jerusalem?

In the long run, that might prove to be almost as beneficial as changing the embassy’s address.

Jul 6, 2017 | Current Events, Jerusalem Notebook, Jews and the Jewish State

In recent days – both in Israel and in Jewish communities in North America – a burning debate has ignited amongst political and religious leaders and has flared up in the media. This argument focuses on Jerusalem’s Western Wall: Who can worship there? Where and how should they worship? What forms of worship are acceptable?

These questions continue to hang uneasily in the holy air over Jerusalem.

For those who aren’t fully aware of Jerusalem’s spiritual geography, a little background about the Western Wall (once known as the “Wailing Wall”) may be helpful.

The Western Wall is called the Kotel in Hebrew. It is virtually all that remains of a retaining wall that was built to support the Temple Mount on which Herod’s magnificent Jewish Temple was constructed.

The Wall is a holy site where Jews, as well as other prayerful people from around the world, offer praise and petitions to God.

In 70 CE, Herod’s Temple was demolished and burned to the ground at the command of Roman Emperor Vespasian, carried out by his son, military commander Titus, and his troops. This followed an agonizing siege, a starvation strategy that all but decimated Jerusalem’s Jews.

Many who somehow survived the siege were slaughtered in the gruesome massacre that followed. Jerusalem was leveled, and its remaining Jewish population was either taken captive by the Romans or somehow desperately straggled into hiding.

Following those terrible days, the Jews who fled – the Diaspora – made their way to nearby lands or faraway places. They were called “Wandering Jews,” because they were never in one place for long before being brutalized or expelled by fanatics – all too often by Christians.

Wherever these Jewish wanderers went, they took with them their holy books, and they carried in their hearts deep sorrow over their destroyed and desecrated city and its Temple. They prayed, generation after generation, that they could one day return to the Holy Mountain: “Next year in Jerusalem…”

Centuries passed. Stories of successful Holy Land pilgrims began to circulate, and there was word of a surviving stone wall that remained intact, where Jews could pray. They not only prayed; they wept in grief for what had been lost, and in gratitude for the holy place they had found.

This was the “Wailing Wall” – where Jews could pound on the gates of heaven, and where the glory of God still seemed to glimmer around them. Surely it was a holy place, a sacred space, where they could pour out their hearts.

Little by little, it was also a place where the vision of Jews returning to Zion flickered into flame.

In the early 20th century, after the destruction of the Ottoman Empire which had long kept a tight rein on Jewish practice, and before the 1967 War, which finally liberated and unified Jerusalem, early photographs bear witness that Jewish men and women unselfconsciously gathered at the Kotel and prayed together. Amanda Borschel-Dan wrote,

From the mid-1800s, photographs of Jews praying together at the Western Wall became common on the walls of houses across the Western world. Today, a rich collection is found in Washington’s Library of Congress digital archives, in which a jumble of Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jews, men and women, are depicted in prayer at what has been considered one of Judaism’s holiest sites for the past two millennia.

Mixed prayer, with men and women praying together, appears to be the norm – or at least a viable option – in these archival images, aside from High Holy Day crushes, in which women either were not in attendance, or prayed off to the side.

Then came the Six-Day War in 1967, and the Jews once again possessed all of Jerusalem – including the Western Wall. In fact, just weeks ago, iconic images of that astonishing military victory appeared as the 50th anniversary of the 1967 War was celebrated.

The Islamic Dome of the Rock and Al Aqsa Mosque have dominated the Temple Mount plaza since the seventh century CE. After June 1967, rabbis warned Jews against walking on the mount’s sacred soil for fear of treading on the site of the biblical Holy of Holies. Some religious leaders forbad all pilgrimages to the Temple Mount, fearing further desecration.

The Western Wall suffered no such restrictions. It was a worship destination for the Jewish faithful, both near and far.

However, as time passed, rabbinical constraints were extended to the Wall, as well. Most notably, it was divided into separate sections for men and women. This reflected the gender separation that is traditional in Orthodox synagogues around the world.

Although men and women had prayed together at the Wall for centuries, it was now forbidden.

Meanwhile, as travel opportunities increased, families began traveling to Israel from abroad to celebrate their children’s Bar Mitzvahs and Bat Mitzvahs at the Kotel. Many of those who observed these rites of passage at the Western Wall belonged to either conservative or reformed Jewish congregations. Therefore, their family events were scrutinized by the watchful eye of the rabbinate, who were determined to maintain ultra-Orthodox Jewish traditions and religious laws at the Wall.

Then, in the 1980s, a new Jewish feminist movement emerged:

In 1988, the Women of the Wall (WoW) organization was founded in order to obtain the right for women to pray at the Kotel with Torah scrolls and wearing a tallit (prayer shawl). They did not ask for mixed prayer with men, just a relaxation of the rules concerning how they could pray with other women in the women’s section of the Kotel. This would not violate Orthodox halacha (religious law), but is in opposition to the rules established by the Rabbi of the Kotel and the customs of strictly observant Jews (among others, the prohibition against women chanting out loud in the presence of men).

Although the WoW activists did not initially seek a separate section at the Wall for combined prayer, the obstacle of male and female worship stood in the way of full agreement among Jewish worshippers. Before long, it became a stumbling block between various denominational groups.

In recent months, the WoW issues were addressed in a resolution that approved the construction of a separate worship area, and permitting mixed prayers, women carrying Torah scrolls, wearing prayer shawls and laying tefillin, all overseen by non-Orthodox authorities.

Then, in late June, although construction had already begun to improve access to that section of the Wall, the compromise resolution was abruptly suspended by Prime Minister Benyamin Netanyahu.

At the same time, another law – also shelved at the same time by the prime minister – would have permitted Jews who wish to marry, divorce or be buried in Israel to choose private religious conversions, not supervised by Israel’s ultra-Orthodox rabbinate (presently, those Jews who move to Israel without rabbinical approval of their religious status are required to submit to an ultra-Orthodox conversion process).

So why were two seemingly reasonable resolutions, addressing couple of sticky disagreements, abruptly shelved? The primary reason lies in the not-so-simple way Israel’s democracy works.

Unlike in the U.S., there aren’t two (or three) primary political parties in Israel. There are as many as a dozen small parties or more, all of which must be cobbled into a coalition parliament – the Knesset.

The prime minister – who represents the political party with the most votes – must negotiate with the other parties, great and small, to form a government. This can result in a wobbly and vulnerable coalition – one that can be readily shattered by a smaller but determined minority, most notably ultra-Orthodox political parties.

A shattered coalition inevitably demand new elections.

In this latest upheaval, Netanyahu shelved the two resolutions about the Western Wall for obvious political reasons. He has been widely excoriated by American Jews for this “shameful” decision. But he explained the situation in very concise terms to a troubled group of U.S. envoys representing AIPAC:

“It was either the Kotel or my government.”

Jonathan Tobin explained further:

American Jews need to understand … Israel is a country where there is no separation between religion and state. In such a place, debates on religion are political, not religious. Israel’s political system allows parties like those of the haredi [ultra-Orthodox] community to obtain a disproportionate amount of power. One can’t be surprised when they exercise that power, both to undermine a historic compromise at the Kotel that was first proposed by Jewish Agency Chairman Natan Sharansky, and to exclude other rabbis, including the modern Orthodox, from control of conversions and other policies.

Netanyahu explained his decision to go back on his word by saying that any of his rivals would have done the same. It’s no excuse, but it’s true; it has happened before with Israeli governments on the left, as well as the right.

Netanyahu knew that the ultra-Orthodox parties would remove themselves from his coalition if he allowed the two resolutions to pass. He therefore concluded that he had no choice but to reverse the earlier agreements and maintain a stable Israeli government, even though it guaranteed continuing conflict between warring Jewish religious leaders, both in Israel and the U.S.

And what happens when the postponement ends? Time will tell.

Thankfully, despite occasional demonstrations, and troubled as the atmosphere may be in Israel’s politico-religious world, worshippers including Christians can continue to visit the Western Wall, enjoying it as a place of peace, solace and wonder.

I sometimes go there myself, now and then bearing prayer requests written on bits of paper for loved ones, which I fold up and try to fit into a fissure between the stones.

We Christians are not subject to rabbinical restraints at the Kotel as long as we women dress modestly; our men cover their heads with a kippah or a hat; we observe the men’s and women’s partitions; and we do not practice evangelism.

Otherwise we are free to sit and read a passage of Scripture, or stand and pray in the shadow of the Wall, sometimes pressing an open palm against the cool, ancient stones.

Why pray at the Western Wall if we are not Jewish? We can find good reason in the words of King Solomon, as he dedicated the First Jewish Temple in the 11th century BCE. His prayer carries with it a promise of blessing to all venture there:

Also concerning the foreigner who is not of Your people Israel, when he comes from a far country for Your name’s sake (for they will hear of Your great name and Your mighty hand, and of Your outstretched arm); when he comes and prays toward this house, hear in heaven Your dwelling place, and do according to all for which the foreigner calls to You, in order that all the peoples of the earth may know Your name, to fear You, as do Your people Israel, and that they may know that this house which I have built is called by Your name.

Aug 30, 2017 | Current Events, Jerusalem Notebook, Jews and the Jewish State, Muslims and Muslim Majority States

In the scorching heat of a troubled Jerusalem summer, the government of Israel announced that it intends to shut down Qatar-based Al Jazeera News Service.

Shuttering a large and well-known news outlet in a democratic nation is not to be taken lightly. This is especially true when that nation is the Jewish State, which the world consistently holds to a higher standard of conduct than its Muslim neighbors.

Israeli Minister of Communications Ayoub Kara has declared that Al Jazeera will be shut down – a decision confirmed by Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu.

Accusations about Al Jazeera’s complicity with terrorists are nothing new, and the network has been under careful Israeli scrutiny. But for years, its freedom to report and broadcast has continued unabated. Last year, Israeli terrorism expert Mordechai Kedar carried on his years-long disapproval of Al Jazeera’s presence in the Jewish State. He put it this way:

Israel knows exactly how to keep hostile media outside its territory: Hezbollah’s Al-Manar TV channel and Iran’s El-Alam TV network are not allowed to work from within the Jewish State. Al Jazeera should be given identical treatment. I once discussed this with a well-known Israeli lawyer and asked him if there is a legal basis for ejecting Al Jazeera from Israel. He answered in the positive, because no foreign media outlet has legal standing in the state of Israel, and all the foreign media based in the country are here only because Israel permits them to be. Israel does not even have to explain why it ejects any of the foreign media, and since none have standing in court, they cannot sue the state to allow them to remain.

Despite complaints similar to Kedar’s by commentators and politicians alike, Al Jazeera has for years kept up its controversial reporting in Israel. Some cynics even claim that Israel only allowed it to exist for the sake of good Israeli publicity.

But the rage and rioting that exploded in Israel following this July’s terrorist killing of two police officers on the Temple Mount exponentially raised the Al Jazeera debate’s volume by several decibels.

On July 14, three terrorists from the Arab-Israeli town of Umm al-Fahm – all claiming the same name, Muhammad Jabarin – made their way to Jerusalem’s Temple Mount around 3 a.m.

They smuggled guns and a knife into the area surrounding the al Aqsa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock. Around 7 a.m., they opened fire, killing two Israeli police officers, Haiel Sitawe, 30, and Kamil Shnaan, 22, who were guarding one of the Temple Mount entrances. Neither of the victims was Jewish; both were Druze police officers from the Galilee.

The three terrorists were shot dead.

The double murder motivated Israel to install metal detectors at the entrance to the Temple Mount. To most western observers, the only question regarding the metal detectors was, “Why on earth weren’t they there in the first place?”

Certainly those all-too-familiar security devices are in use around the world, including at numerous Muslim holy sites across the Middle East.

Meanwhile, “in Mecca,” reported Lev Haolam, “there are more than 5,000 CCTV cameras and over 100,000 people employed to provide security during the annual Hajj. Like Israel, Saudi Arabia faces terrorist threats and has upgraded its security in recent years. In 2015, the International Business Times reported that Saudi Arabia was “issuing pilgrims with electronic bracelets” and was increasing the number of cameras.”

Nevertheless, the installation of metal detectors on the Temple Mount inspired massive riots, serious injuries and even murders, not to mention a dangerous escalation of tensions across Jerusalem and well beyond Israel’s borders. Many thousands of enraged Muslims rioted, chanted anti-Jewish and death-to-Israel slogans in Turkey, Jordan, Yemen and Malaysia.

This uproar emanated from a widely held belief that Israel is stealthily changing the status quo of Temple Mount access. So a recycled rumor took flight across the world that the Jews were about to seize the site, ban Muslims, destroy the Dome of the Rock and the al Aqsa Mosque, and construct a Jewish temple.

Without a doubt, Al Jazeera has done its share of propagating that decades-old and baseless lie: “Al Aqsa is in danger!” This is particularly so in its notoriously hateful and dishonest Arabic language reports.

In the meantime, another news story provides related background. Just weeks before the Temple Mount crisis, Qatar (home base of Al Jazeera) was formally boycotted by Saudi Arabia, Egypt, the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain for its support of terrorism. In the process of ending diplomatic and trade relations with Qatar, these Islamic states also banned Al Jazeera.

It is well known that both Qatar and Al Jazeera are deeply influenced and financially entangled with the Muslim Brotherhood, including Hamas; this has caused some countries to ban the news source either temporarily or permanently. Israel has reason to agree. Dan Diker at the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs explained to NBC News,

Al Jazeera has been guilty of terrible and fundamentally unprofessional reporting that uses incitement to please their radical paymasters in the Hamas and Muslim Brotherhood, referring to two Islamist organizations based in Gaza and Egypt respectively.

Israel is saying, “Enough is enough,” and that you cannot exploit our democratic system in order to assault our democratic country via your propagandistic and radical-Islamic reporting.

Israel has repeatedly stated its case regarding claims of Al Jazeera’s record of incitement to violence, broadcasting of anti-Israel propaganda and support for the Boycott, Divest and Sanction Israel movement.

And unsurprisingly, myriad voices have repeatedly been raised to protest Israel’s impending Al Jazeera ban. Opinion writers and analysts on all sides have brought forth various arguments expressing concern about press freedom, free speech and inappropriate censorship of journalists.

For example, Freedom House, a Washington-based non-governmental organization, said that Israel “hosts a lively, pluralistic media environment in which press freedom is generally respected.” However, “due to ongoing conflicts with Palestinian groups and neighboring countries,” it added, “media outlets are subject to military censorship and gag orders, and journalists often face travel restrictions.”

For Israel, surrounded by large and powerful Muslim countries, the delicate balance between national security, false oppositional media reports, and occasional governmental gag orders placed on sensitive subjects, remains difficult to maintain.

How can a small nation like Israel, with mortal enemies on all sides, keep security secrets, curtail libelous and incendiary rumormongering and still retain press freedom?

The essential reality in all this is that free speech has limitations. All speech is not free. In US law, for example, one of the limitations of free speech involves True Threats. Such threats are words that convey a genuine threat of actual danger; they are not spoken in jest or hyperbole.

Another form of speech that isn’t free is Incitement: words intended to provoke or produce lawless action or actual harm.

Press freedom is an extension of free speech. So, when a news source advances a true threat or incitement that is intended to cause illegal behavior or physical harm, it is illegal under U.S. law.

As for international law, there are also limitations to a totally free press. A section of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights informs nations that they should ban war propaganda which is able to cause “national, racial and religious hatred or incite racial discrimination, hostility or violence. This stipulation does not run counter to the right to freedom of expression, because it conforms to the objectives of the United Nations Organization and the requirements of a civilized society.”

Meanwhile, the most significant argument defending Israel’s right to ban Al Jazeera comes, interestingly, from a former Al Jazeera journalist, Mohamed Fahmy. He provides ample evidence of incitement to violence in Al Jazeera’s weekly sermons of Islamist cleric – and spiritual guide of the Muslim Brotherhood – Yusuf al-Qaradawi.

There are also indications that Al Jazeera reporters are in close touch with terrorist groups.

In a June 2017 Bloomberg article by Eli Lake titled “The Ex-Journalist Who Says Al Jazeera Aids Terrorists,” Mohamed Fahmy, former Cairo bureau chief of Al Jazeera, explains why bans of his ex-employer make sense. Lake reports,

To begin with, the network still airs a weekly talk show from Muslim Brotherhood theologian Yusuf al-Qaradawi. This elderly cleric has used his platform to argue that Islamic law justifies terrorist attacks against Israelis and U.S. soldiers.

U.S. military leaders such as retired Lt. General Ricardo Sanchez, who commanded forces in the initial campaign to stabilize Iraq, have said publicly that Al Jazeera reporters appeared to have advance knowledge of terrorist attacks.

Fahmy told me that in his research he has learned that instructions were given to journalists not to refer to Al-Qaeda’s affiliate in Syria, Al-Nusra, as a terrorist organization.

Fahmy believes that Qatar’s neighbors were justified in banning Al Jazeera. “Al-Jazeera has breached the true meaning of press freedom that I advocate and respect by sponsoring these voices of terror like Yusuf al Qaradawi,” he said. “If Al Jazeera continues to do that, they are directly responsible for many of these lone wolves, many of these youth that are brainwashed.”

A separate article in The Tower reported, “[Fahmy] rejected the accusation that, by trying to revoke Al Jazeera press credentials, Israel is violating press freedom.” “They [Qatar] use the press,” Fahmy said, repeating his view that the network engages in “unethical journalism.”

Arguments over Israel’s proposed Al Jazeera ban will doubtless continue. And it may well be, no matter what Israel’s prime minister or minister of communications intend, that the complications involved in pushing an Al Jazeera ban through the Knesset and the Israeli justice system will bog the effort down indefinitely.

Still, the Al Jazeera case is instructive. Freedom of speech and a free press have their limits. True threats, and incitement to violence or illegal activity, are internationally defined no-go zones. These boundaries apply to all journalists, their news services and their editors – here, there and everywhere.