Don't Plant a Flag

For a lifelong Michigan Wolverine, there is no hate greater than that of Ohio State. Like twins who enter this world fated for a life of enmity, so too the Wolverine–Buckeye rivalry, perhaps the most intense in all of college sports. The competitive traditions leading up to the game, the non-synagogue appropriate taunts during the game, the bragging rights after the game – it is a game that can make or break coaching careers. A football game so iconic that, akin to Springsteen being referred to as “The Boss,” or Elvis as “The King,” it is a Thanksgiving matchup referred to simply and knowingly as “The Game.”

Which is why two weeks ago, in the midst of an otherwise forgettable 7-5 Michigan season, when Michigan was somehow able to upset the Buckeyes 13-10 – in Columbus, Ohio, no less – it was a victory to savor. We may not have won the Big Ten, gotten a playoff spot, or even fielded a consistent quarterback but – gosh darn it – we beat Ohio State! A salve to soothe our inglorious mediocrity – enough to carry us forward until the arrival of the Bryce Underwood era.

And yet, whatever redemptive high I experienced in victory, it was quickly shattered by the mayhem that ensued immediately after the game. One of the Michigan players grabbed a huge maize and blue Michigan M flag and ran it to the Ohio State midfield in order to – Iwo Jima like – plant it on Ohio State’s turf. Not surprisingly, the Buckeye players took exception to the gesture and confronted the flag planter, resulting in a scuffle of pushing, shoving, and punches being thrown, leading to an all-out brawl, pepper spray included.

Eventually, things calmed down, and in the days that followed fines were levied against the responsible parties. In retrospect, I believe Michigan’s flag planting is a teachable moment in that the behavior displayed by my alma mater’s team fell short of who we are, who we claim to be, and who we aspire to be. So many, at least in my social circles and group chats, have rushed to Michigan’s defense. “This sort of thing has been going on for years.” “If the shoe were on the other foot, they would have done the same thing.” “It has become commonplace.” That same day there were flag plantings in numerous other rivalries: Florida-Florida State, North Carolina-North Carolina State, and in the case of Arizona State- Arizona, it was a pitchfork, not a flag. “Boys will be boys.” This is what big rivalries are all about, and the players have been revved up for this moment since the beginning of the season, and in some cases since birth. If anything, the blame is on Ohio State. As one Michigan player said in a post-game interview: “They” – meaning Ohio State – “just gotta learn how to lose.”

It is not easy taking a stand against one’s own team, and I was unsure at first why the incident unsettled me as it did. I get all the arguments justifying Michigan’s behavior. There is a pleasure in hating – especially one’s rivals. Who doesn’t love rubbing victory in an opponent’s face? And yet, I find myself taking a stand and returning to the mantra “You don’t plant a flag.” First and foremost, you don’t plant a flag because it is the wrong thing to do. “The other people are doing it” defense is an empty one, an argument that works neither with parents or police officers. It certainly doesn’t fly for a team that prides itself on being “the leaders and the best.” You don’t plant a flag because it is a classless thing to do. I am reminded of Bear Bryant’s reported counsel to his team, that in victory one should “act like you've been there before,” or to mix my sports references, how Mantle would round the bases after hitting a home run. No chest thumping, finger pointing bravado; just a head-down stride reflecting the satisfaction of a job well done. It doesn’t matter what others do or would do. The challenge and opportunity of calling yourself “the leaders and the best” is the refusal to sink to the lowest common denominator, the self-imposed demand to embody behavior deserving of our calling and worthy of emulation.

And if that were all – as the Passover song goes, dayenu – that would be enough. But my objection runs deeper. Churchill once said, “In victory, magnanimity; in peace, goodwill.” Overjoyed as I may have been by our victory, my team’s post-game behavior soured the sweetness of the win because I found it to be representative of the ills of our era. The Michigan player who reflected that Ohio State needs to learn how to be a good loser had it backwards. Equally, if not more, important than being a good loser, is the value of being a good winner. The importance of leaving something on the table for the other guy, of protecting not just your own dignity but that of your opponent, the golden rule of treating others as we would seek to be treated ourselves. As Shakespeare’s Prospero reminded us, “The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance.”

If you are wondering whether I am talking just about flags and football teams, then let me say it slightly more directly. We live in a polarized time; the heated rivalries of our era are playing out in arenas far more momentous, charged, and consequential than football stadiums. Be it elections, wars, or a world of haves and have-nots, there will be winners and losers. Folks who give it their all and enjoy a hard-won victory, and folks who do the same and suffer the sting of defeat. Our generation needs to be reminded that one of the key ingredients of civility and civil society is the importance of winning with grace. Being a winner doesn’t mean merely that one garners more votes than the other side, has more stuff than the other guy, or is able to trounce one’s enemy into submission. Being a winner means that you achieve your goals, but always remembers that that other guy is part of your shared future. It is why George H. Bush was careful not to humiliate Gorbachev at the end of the Cold War, why the Israeli military chose not to destroy the Egyptian Third Army at the end of the Yom Kippur War, and why Reagan reportedly held back from pressing for victory in Minnesota, so as to grant Mondale the dignity of winning his home state. We do so because it is the right thing to do, we do so because next time the shoe may be on the other foot, but most of all we do so because planting a flag – literally or figuratively – is an incendiary act whose purpose is to stoke the shame and provoke the ire of the defeated. Planting a flag is an act that undermines the hope for a future day that will transcend the heated hatreds of the moment.

 As hinted, this week’s Torah reading contains the denouement of one of the greatest rivalries of all – Jacob vs. Esau. Two brothers who, literally from the womb, competed in all things: birthrights, blessings, and – most of all – the affections of their parents. A zero-sum game in which whatever one had, the other believed himself to be deprived. A hatred that resulted in decades of enmity, a hatred that caused immeasurable pain, perhaps to their parents most of all. This week, the brothers see each for the first time in a long time, each having developed a formidable stature of their own. It is a scene that could have easily gone sideways and resulted in a final and tragic showdown. But that is not what happens. Nobody plants a flag. The brothers greet each other with unprecedented warmth and kindness.

            “Accept from me this offering,” Jacob says to Esau.

            “I have enough, my brother,” Esau replies to Jacob, “Let what you have remain yours.”

For the first time – in well, ever – the two brothers realize that more important that relitigating the past, more important than measuring who has done better, more important than asserting the upper hand or bragging rights – is the magnanimous realization that it is their brother’s dignity, not their own, that is the greatest treasure of all. “To see your face,” Jacob tells Esau, “is to see the face of God.” Each brother extends a deferential courtesy to his longtime and lifetime rival. Tellingly, the brothers go their own way. They are self-aware enough to know that a jointly owned time-share in Boca is not in the cards. This reconciliation is more realpolitik than real love. But they do leave the exchange shalem, whole, recognizing that important as their own well-being may be, the dignity of the other is equally important.

So much for the struggles of biblical Israel. As for the how the lessons of the Torah reading apply to contemporary Israel, I am under no illusions regarding the existential challenges we face. Israel’s fight for self-defense and self-determination is a battle against those who seek the destruction of the Jewish state, those who have kept the hostages captive, now for 435 days. With the geopolitical landscape changing by the hour, Israel has both the right and the responsibility to do everything in its power to secure the safety of its citizens – in both the present and the future. The progressive sensibilities of the Upper East Side are incongruous with the hostile realities of the Middle East. And yet, no matter how sobering Israel’s fight may be, in fighting its adversaries, in securing the safety of its citizenry, in responding to tectonic regional transformations, Israel must nevertheless be careful not to plant a flag – literally or figuratively. Israel must resist the temptation to dominate or humiliate. There are long-term costs to overreach; we already know this to be so. Unlike a football rivalry where victory comes by way of defeating one’s adversary every season throughout eternity, in this war, Israel’s win will be measured according to the degree by which a less adversarial future reality is achieved. As I have said on more than one occasion, Israel must fight this war as if there is no tomorrow, and Israel must fight this war with an eye towards tomorrow. To plant a flag, to engage in acts intended to provoke, or perceived to provoke, the ire of our adversary, whether or not they themselves would do the same, is to miss the forest for the trees, to cut off our noses to spite our faces, a short-term victory at the expense of our long-term goals.

If anything, the coda to this week’s Torah reading – the tale of Dina’s violation and captivity – serves to amplify the importance of being attuned to the complexities of our moment. Following the traumatic abduction of a daughter of Israel, a debate erupts within the Bible’s first family as to whether to secure Dina’s release by means of Jacob’s diplomacy or by the vengeful violence of Jacob’s sons. Given the magnitude of the crime, we cannot help but identify with Jacob’s sons, who seek to exact maximum vengeance on those holding their sister captive. And yet, as the unfolding narrative makes clear, neither they nor their actions are recipients of blessing. In Jacob’s estimation his sons have brought long-term trouble upon him by making him hated among the inhabitants of the land. As in all things – be it biblical or present-day Israel – there are two sides to the debate. The challenge, both then and now, is how best to secure the souls and the goals we so desperately seek, all the while remembering that a victory that does not account for the day after is a victory that will not endure.

Ours is a time of war. The news changes by the hour, victory remains elusive, and – even if achieved – it has come at too great a cost, to both sides. We remain eyes wide open to the threats faced by Israel and Jews around the globe. We are fighting enemies, I assure you, who would rejoice in our downfall and humiliation. And yet . . . the spiritual vocation of our people has never and should never be defined by how others are behaving or would behave. We are who we are and will be who we will be by securing our physical well-being without forsaking our spiritual well-being. By being victorious and magnanimous. By freeing our captives and treating every life as sacred. We must win, but never plant a flag.

It is not easy to speak up and take a critical eye towards one own team – not ever, and especially when the stakes and hatreds are as charged as they are. But sometimes that is what it means to be a true fan, and the alternative – to keep silent – is something I will not do. I pray that one day, please God soon, we should be hailed as victors. Victors who are valiant, not vengeful. Victors who are champions, not churlish. A decisive win. A win with the hostages home, a Jewish nation secure, and our souls intact.