Elliot Cosgrove, PhD May 12, 2017
Like baseball and apple pie, America’s protection of free speech sits at the heart of who we are as a nation. “Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press . . .” These are foundational words, as described by Park Avenue Synagogue’s own Floyd Abrams in his new book The Soul of the First Amendment, that mark the exceptionalism of the United States in the protections it offers to freedom of expression. Whatever the price we pay for this freedom – be it hate speech or Holocaust denial – we know that the deleterious effects of any effort to limit or suppress our inalienable right to free expression would be far worse.
This right to free speech is equally sacrosanct to our Jewish tradition of dialogue and dissent. One need only think of the Talmud, the debates of the Rabbis arrayed on every page, minority opinions codified alongside the majority, a veritable celebration of a robust generational conversation. “Truth,” said the Rabbis of old, “is the seal of the Holy One, praised be He . . . Neither men nor angels are trusted with the great seal.” (Schechter, Studies 299). For Jews, it is by way of the free and unhindered exchange of ideas that humanity seeks truth, all the while knowing that it will forever lie just beyond our grasp. Biblically speaking, it is the gift of speech that makes us human. To deny our right to free expression, as such, is to deny a fundamental aspect of our humanity. In the words of Benjamin Cardozo, “Freedom of expression is the matrix, the indispensable condition, of nearly every other form of freedom.”
It is because free speech is fundamental to who we are as Americans, as Jews, and as American Jews, that I want to address this morning what I believe to be a most delicate challenge to free speech within the American Jewish community: how we speak to each other regarding that which is so sacred – I hope to us all: the State of Israel. Our generation, born into this blessed era of Jewish sovereignty after 2,000 years of exile, born into an empowered American Jewish generation that can advocate on behalf of Israel as an expression of our Jewish identity, is also a generation that, if we do not take steps toward a course correction, risks waking up to discover that the very State that should unify us and be our source of strength has become the political football that divides us and is our downfall.
Before I move forward, let me take a step back and share three observations – of which I hope none is either new or controversial. First, the State of Israel, no different than any other nation-state, has its imperfections. Second, the subject of the State of Israel, no different than any other subject Jews discuss, is a subject about which there are a multiplicity of opinions. Third, the State of Israel, for reasons rooted in historic and contemporary anti-Semitism, is subjected to an unrelenting barrage of public attacks in the form of concerted efforts to delegitimize the right of the Jewish state to exist. With the lay of the land established, our question becomes one of the degree to which the American Jewish community is capable of housing an open and civil dialogue regarding Israel, all the while remaining vigilant against those who would see Israel wiped off the map.
It is on this measure, regrettably, that our community falls short. Our challenge, thank God, is not that of formal suppression of speech. Jews can, if we so choose, say what we want, how we want, and when we want on the subject of Israel. The concern, rather, is the nefarious efforts from within the Jewish community to label any criticism of Israel as beyond the bounds of acceptable communal discourse. Free speech exists, but there is a muzzling effort afoot that precludes the possibility of our community actualizing either our American or Jewish ideal of the free exchange of ideas. In the most basic terms, I would describe what is taking place to be what philosophers call “the black and white fallacy” – a “you are with us or against us” approach whereby nuanced arguments are framed as either/or choices between extremes. “Either support the policies of the Israel government, or you are a self-hating Jew.” “Anyone who criticizes Israel is a supporter of BDS and the anti-Zionists.” Or alternatively, “Every settler in the West Bank is a human rights-abusing colonialist.” No longer a place of robust debate, the American Jewish community has become a series of mutually exclusive “amen corners” which refuse to dignify the views held by others.
Let me give you an example. Last week at a synagogue in Detroit, a concert by the fabulous Israeli performer Achinoam Nini (also known as Noa) was cancelled due to security concerns resulting from the fact that she has expressed left-wing political positions, including support of a two-state resolution and peaceful co-existence with Palestinians. Let that sink in: a threat of physical violence from within the camp of American Jewry against an Israeli artist who is an advocate for peace.
Most muzzlings, however, do not happen under the threat of violence. Altogether frightening is the increasingly frequent effort, online, in print or in person, to demonize and delegitimize a point of view not your own by questioning the other person’s bona fides. It happens all the time, to leaders in the Jewish community, to my professional colleagues, and even to me. Certain elements of the Jewish community have discovered that more effective than debating someone’s ideas is to question a Jew’s Zionism by way of cyber bullying or twitter shaming. A slanderous remark in the comment section of an article, a nasty Facebook post, which is then read by an undiscerning third party – perhaps even a congregant – who jumps to the conclusion that so-and-so is what they are not. If I can pathologize a point of view by shaming a person into silence, or by fudging the question of someone’s politics with their Zionism, then why wouldn’t I? It is such a cumbersome and laborious process to argue a point when one need only undermine a person’s loyalty, or worse, humanity. Nobody’s hands are totally clean, both the right and the left are guilty of shouting down their opposition rather than dignifying their differences with the possibility of reasoned debate.
Indeed, I would contend that we are living through a frightening Orwellian cultural moment, the Jewish community functioning in a wider post-fact world, in which dissenting views are labeled fake, bad, or disloyal as opposed to what they actually are: dissenting views. What can and can’t be said, who is and isn’t allowed into the pro-Israel conversation, convention or conference. Again, I would not characterize it as a formal suppression of speech, but rather a concerted effort by way of ad hominem attacks, misrepresentation, verbal castigation, and otherwise to stigmatize anyone whose views extend beyond the bounds of what the radical extremes deem acceptable.
And because this vitriol and toxicity is not only beneath our ideals of free speech but also dangerous to the health of American Jewry, Israel, and the all-important relationship between the two, it must come to a stop. To return to where I began, if we are really committed to supporting Israel, then we must know that is by way of encouraging free speech, not suppressing it, that truth will be found. Notwithstanding the fact that anti-Zionists and anti-Semites do indeed exist (often cloaked behind the language of human rights and the politics of intersectionality), anyone with a head on their shoulders knows full well that the black and white option of being either “with us or against us” is not only intellectually lazy but also an impediment to the very transformations of thought and policy that we all seek. As Brandeis famously stated, “freedom to think as you will and to speak as you think are means indispensable to the discovery and spread of political truth.” With the parties in the Middle East becoming more polarized and increasingly intransigent, our discourse needs to become more vigorous, not less, all the with the hope of discovering and spreading truths that can only emerge by way of robust and respectful exchange of ideas.
But the issue is not merely one of some abstract search for truth. To delegitimize dissenting views is counterproductive because it narrows the pro-Israel base as the base of our adversaries expands. Israel and the pro-Israel community do not lack for enemies; when we choose to fight within our own camp as opposed to fighting the real bad guys, it is they, not we, who have the last laugh. The Jewish community is small enough as it is; do we really need to place our own kinsmen outside of the Israelite camp? We need to be able to operate with people who have different views than our own, to have what the Rabbis call “a heart of many rooms” (Tosefta Sotah 7:12). We must support those voices that occupy the sane center of the Israel conversation, the ones capable of engaging with views not their own. We dare not cede the megaphone to the radical elements of our community – those people who prize the rightness of their own views over the wellbeing of the Jewish people as a whole.
Finally, we would do well to realize that it will be through our failure to embrace a plurality of views that we will lose the next generation of pro-Israel advocates. Yes, the BDS movement is headed by numerous haters of Israel, but as a recent ADL-Reut study shows, its long tail includes bystanders, undecideds, and those whose love for Israel prompts them to openly protest the policies of the Israeli government. We do ourselves and, more importantly, our children a great disservice by lumping them all into one basket of anti-Zionist deplorables. Let me put it another way. If you tell a typical American Jewish college student that there is only one way to be pro-Israel, and she or he must take some loyalty oath to that view or be labeled a BDS supporter or self-hating Jew, then what do you think that kid will do? My hunch? She or he will walk away from the conversation entirely. Those kids will see a Jewish community willfully denying reality as they perceive it, choose universal values over particular ones, and check out of the pro-Israel and Jewish conversation altogether. As stated in the ADL-Reut report, the pro-Israel network needs to acknowledge the vital significance of those willing to fight delegitimization among progressive groups even as they criticize Israeli government policies. Not only is it not true, not only is it a form of schoolyard bullying, but it is plain old bad policy to demand an overly narrow definition of what it means to be pro-Israel.
If we truly want our children to be vocal and adroit defenders of the State of Israel, then they need to know that the pro-Israel community is one that will encourage debate, not discourage it. Not only must the coming generation be steeped in a love and affection for Israel and its history, not only must they be able to argue the case for Jewish self-determination, not only must they be able to discern the difference between acceptable criticism of Israel and delegitimitization, but they also need spend some time learning the other side of the story. Our advocacy on behalf of Israel becomes more credible, not less, for having been educated in the competing narrative of the other side. Of course there are limits; not every view need be dignified and we must be careful not to provide ammunition to the delegitimizers. But we must encounter the narrative that is not our own, for only in doing so will we be able to defend our side, understand the humanity of the other and yes, hopefully, build bridges of understanding into the future.
“And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, ‘speak to the Priests.’” Long ago, the Rabbis noted the curious doubling of the Hebrew word emor, meaning “to speak,” in the opening sentence of this week’s parashah. The twofold message for us today is clear. We must speak on behalf of Israel, in public and in private, advocates in word and in deed. We must also speak out on behalf of those seeking to speak out. We must defend their right to openly express their views, even when – especially when – those views are not our own. To engage in dialogue and debate: this is our people’s strength, the secret of who we are, and it is an ideal worth defending when we see it breached. L’ma’an tziyon lo ehesheh, For the sake of Zion we will not be silent. Nor, I would add, should we let anyone be silenced. The measure of our love for Israel will be found not just in our advocacy for the Jewish state, but in our ability to dignify the wide definition of what it means to be pro-Israel. May we all find the wisdom, patience, and strength to make for ourselves a heart of many rooms, and may the people and the State of Israel be strengthened by way of our efforts.