Elliot Cosgrove, PhD June 1, 2024
Neither the city of Pittsburgh, nor the Pittsburgh Courier, once America’s most widely circulated Black newspaper, may strike you as the obvious springboard for a sermon on Israel’s present war against Hamas. But to this rabbi, who just spent Memorial Day weekend in Pittsburgh with his archive-sifting historian mother-in-law, it is the clear and – certainly in her mind – necessary place to frame any conversation on the challenges of our present moment.
Our story begins in January 1942, one month after Pearl Harbor and the United States entering the war. James Gratz Thompson was a promising young man living in Wichita, Kansas – then a major center for the production of military aircraft. The wartime surge in demand, most famously for the B-29 bombers, meant an uptick in well-paying industrial jobs, but Thompson, a twenty-six-year-old Black man, was locked out of the factory floor, allowed to work only in the cafeteria. Frustrated, Thompson wrote a letter to the Pittsburgh Courier asking the obvious question, in his words, “Should I sacrifice my life to live half American?” Thompson’s patriotism was beyond reproach. He believed in the war; he went on to serve in the India-Burma theatre and was the recipient of a Soldier’s Medal. He was nevertheless troubled as to whether winning the war abroad would make things better for Black people back home in America. His words in the Pittsburgh Courier are well worth quoting:
“I suggest that while we keep defense and victory in the forefront that we don’t lose sight of our fight for true democracy at home. The V for victory sign is being displayed prominently in all so-called democratic countries which are fighting for victory over aggression, slavery and tyranny. If this V sign means that to those now engaged in this great conflict then let we colored Americans adopt the double VV for a double victory. The first V for victory over our enemies from without, the second V for victory over our enemies from within.” (January 31, 1942)
The publication of Thompson’s letter seized the imagination of the Courier, its leadership, and its readership, which began to promote its message. Today we would say that Thompson’s message went viral. The Double V campaign spread beyond Pittsburgh, appearing in newspapers, rallies, baseball games, dances, and beauty contests across the country. Thompson became the director of the Courier’s national Double V campaign, and while the Courier’s coverage formally ended in 1943, the campaign persisted throughout the war and well beyond.
In its initial context, the Double V campaign epitomized Black attitudes during the war. In the words of historian Eric Foner, “Victory over Germany and Japan . . . must be accompanied by victory over segregation at home” (Foner, 243-44). Many did not react kindly to Thompson’s message and maintained a single V, holding that the war should be only about defeating the Japanese and the Nazis and keeping the status quo at home. Herbert Hoover called it out as seditious, while other Americans viewed the Double V campaign as an act of disloyalty. But for those in the Double V campaign, it made perfect sense. In the words of historian Matthew Delmont, “‘patriotism,’ meant dealing with America’s problems head-on rather than pretending they did not exist.” (Delmont, 302). Following the war, Black veterans made up the ranks of the NAACP, CORE, and other civil rights organizations going on to fight the domestic battles that awaited, including the desegregation of the military in 1948 and landmark civil rights cases like 1954’s Brown vs. Board of Education (as in Linda Brown, the daughter of WWII veteran Oliver Brown). The twice-awarded Bronze Star recipient Medgar Evers led both the beachhead charge of Normandy and voting drives in Decatur, Georgia. The connection between Black war veterans and civil rights continues to this day – from Jackie Robinson breaking the color line in 1947 right up to the integration of Negro League statistics this past week. A generation of Black servicemen and women who came to be the greatest generation not just for their heroics on the battlefield or the courage by which they returned to civilian life. They were heroes because they taught us that the wars we wage are just only insofar as we remain true and follow through to realize the values for which we purport to be fighting. A Double V: one military, and one, if you will, moral. Both hard fought. Interdependent. The sacrifices of the former honored by way of loyalty to the latter. In Thompson’s words, “Victory over our enemies from without . . . victory over our enemies from within.”
Seven months in, we are all painfully aware that a resolution to Israel’s war against Hamas remains beyond our grasp. October 7, 2023, is a date which will live in infamy, when Israel was suddenly and deliberately attacked by Hamas. The brave soldiers of Israel’s defense forces continue seeking to root out their enemies, bring the hostages home, and ensure the continued security of Israel’s citizenry from future attacks. This is no Six-Day War. The road ahead is fraught and uncertain. Even as Israel presses into Hamas strongholds, even as it seeks to prevent its enemies from acquiring the means and accessing the tunnels by which future attacks can be launched, new fronts and fears have emerged – in Gaza, in the north, in the West Bank, and from Iran. We are devastated at the loss of innocent Palestinian lives and the ongoing human suffering – non-combatants killed and displaced in a war that Israel did not seek, every life lost a diminishment of God’s presence in our world. The battle lines, we know, are drawn not just in the Middle East, but around the world. On campus, in Congress, online, in the World Court, in the court of world opinion. Our enemies, their enablers, and the silence of bystanders have made us more isolated and yes, more threatened than any of us can recall in our lifetimes. Dark as our moment may be, we have, nevertheless, the light of moral clarity and hope, the bravery of the IDF, my trust that all of us do our part, and my faith in God. We will, I do believe, live to see a hard-won victory.
So, this morning it is not the first victory, but the second victory that I want to talk to you about. As Thompson did in his day, today I want to remind you of the second V – the values, the vision, the hope for which Israel is fighting and sacrificing so much. Nobody knows better than Jews that our campaigns and struggles are important only insofar as they are linked to a higher purpose. It is actually what this time of year between Passover and the upcoming festival of Shavuot is all about. The hard-won freedoms celebrated at our seder tables are freedoms in service of a higher goal – service to God. As stated in the book of Exodus, shalah et ami v’ya’avduni. Let my people go that they may serve me. Of all the reasons why we count the Omer – these days between Passover and Shavuot – the primary one is to remind us of the link between the freedoms of Passover and the covenantal responsibilities of Shavuot. The victory of the former is rendered hollow if we fail to realize the obligations of the latter.
So, what are the values that Israel is defending today? What are the principles that enable us to bear the heavy human toll of the hour? Fortunately, we need not look far, and they are not complicated. They are enshrined in Israel’s founding document:
A State of Israel open for Jewish immigration and the ingathering of exiles . . . a State of Israel that will foster the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants. It will be based on freedom and justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel, ensuring complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race, or sex. It will guarantee freedom of religious conscience, language, education, and culture; it will safeguard the holy places of all religions. A State of Israel that, in the midst of the onslaught against it, extends to its Arab inhabitants full participation in the upbuilding of the state on the basis of the full and equal citizenship and due representation in all its provisional and permanent institutions. A State of Israel that is prepared to do its share in a common effort for the advancement of the entire Middle East.
These words are not my words, these words are drawn from the Israel’s Declaration of Independence. As in all founding documents, the words are aspirational – guiding principles that were not a lived reality at the time of their composition, nor are they to this day. But they are what we are fighting for. A sovereign state – both Jewish and democratic – that extends the privileges of citizenship equally to all its inhabitants and whose inhabitants equally fulfill their obligation of citizenship to the state. A state anchored in a historic claim, forged in the furnace of Jewish history, unapologetic about its right to self-defense, and doing its share in a common effort for the advancement of the entire Middle East. A state founded by a people who, after thousands of years of being a marginalized minority, must now ask how, from a place of power, it will ensure social and political equality for the Arab minority in its midst.
These are the values, to name a few, for which Israel stands, for which Israel is sending its best and brightest to fight against its enemies from without. These are also the values that are challenging Israel from within. Many of the protests in the streets of Israel have to do with the wartime decisions of the present government – whether a ceasefire should be preceded by the release of hostages or the other way around. But the roots of the protests run deeper and, truth be told, prior to October 7. Questions as to whether Israel’s present government is committed to building a Jewish and democratic future. Questions as to whether Israel’s present government is committed to granting its Palestinian neighbors a path to self-determination. Questions as to whether once, please God, the hostages are returned and the present hostilities subside, there is a short-, medium- or long-term plan to advance an enduring peace. Questions as to whether all of Israel’s citizens, Haredi included, will bear an equal role in serving the well-being of the state. Questions as to whether the Jewish state is a state where the Jewishness of all Jews, both within and beyond Israel’s borders, are recognized as such – equal stakeholders in the Jewish future. Elusive as the answers to these questions may be, they are what makes Israel worth fighting for, they are the second V we seek to secure.
And I know, because I know, that there are those who wonder whether this is the time to air such questions. Soldiers are on the front lines, our students are under siege on campus, there is a limit to our time and resources. We do not lack for external enemies. Why in the world, would we lovers of Zion expend any energy pointing out where Israel could be better, where Israel falls short of its aspirations? Why would we risk providing cover to those critics of Israel who do not share our love? And while I hear those voices, and to be honest, feel those voices within my own being, I could not and would not and will not have it any other way.
Because no different than the thousands on the streets of Israel this Saturday night and every Saturday night, in naming the dissonance between the Israel that is and the Israel that ought to be, I believe my Zionist bona fides are proven more, not less, steadfast. In giving voice to the fact that the aspirational dream of Israel remains yet an aspiration, I believe my unrepentant Zionism is of more, not less, service. More, not less, loyal to the cause of the Jewish people. In sharing openly my doubts about the decisions and directions of the present Israeli government, I believe that I have more, not less, of an opportunity to engage with the next generation of Jews who stand increasingly alienated from the Jewish homeland. As Israel fights for its physical survival, I believe we must never lose sight of the struggle for Israel’s soul.
The other day, together with a few rabbinic colleagues, I met with a delegation of Israeli mayors who are in town for tomorrow’s Celebrate Israel Parade on Fifth Avenue. As wartime Israeli municipal leaders, they were, to a person, worn down and haggard. On top of their professional stresses, many of their own children and grandchildren are on the front lines. “What can we do? How can we help?” we asked them. “We have sent supplies. We have and continue to send solidarity missions. We have raised and continue to raise money. What else do you need?”
One of the mayors, whose city I will not name, responded, “Raise your voices. Advocate on Israel’s behalf, of course. Do everything in your power to challenge the narrative that would turn Israel from victim to aggressor. Defend Israel’s right to self-defense and self-determination to every Jew and non-Jew you know. Do all that . . . and raise your voices. Remind each other, remind the world, and yes, remind Israel, of the dream for which it stands. Keep us honest, because that what friends do.”
In other words, a Double V campaign. Doing everything in our power to help Israel secure victory from without. Doing everything in our power to help Israel secure victory from within. Double V. A rallying cry which I think I can get behind. A rallying cry, I hope, we can all get behind.
Delmont, Matthew F. Half American: The Epic Story of African Americans Fighting World War II at Home and Abroad. New York: Viking, 2022.
Foner, Eric. The Story of American Freedom. New York: WW Norton & Co., 1998.