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Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, April 2008, pages 65-66 Waging Peace Finding Faith Without Fanaticism
RABBI BRAD Hirschfield discussed his new book, You Don’t Have to be Wrong for me to be Right: Finding Faith without Fanaticism, at Washington, DC’s Busboys and Poets restaurant Jan. 10. The talk was couched within an informal conversation on the Busboys stage between the rabbi and Imam Johari Abdul-Malik of Dar ul Hijrah Mosque in Fairfax, Virginia. Rabbi Hirschfield began by letting the full house know that unlike the so-called terrorism experts in the U.S. media, he knew quite a bit about being a fanatic. Not too long ago, he explained, he was a fanatical Jewish settler who occupied land in the West Bank city of Hebron. “When I talk about fanaticism,” Hirschfield said, “I know something about it.” He was attracted to this way of life at first because of “its beauty,” the rabbi said, adding, “It’s beautiful, but it’s toxic, and like any toxic it feels great going in, but it makes you sick as it stays with you.” One day a Palestinian man attacked two settlers in Hebron, Hirschfield recalled, and they chased their assailant into a Palestinian elementary school, where the two settlers opened fire, killing two schoolgirls. This incident finally knocked away his blinders, said Hirschfield, who became so concerned over the murders that he sought advice from one of the settlement’s leaders, a political activist whom he admired. When he explained how upset he was, the leader responded that he, too, was upset and that it was a terrible thing that had occurred. “No, this is more than a terrible thing,” Hirschfield replied. “There is a fundamental problem in our whole orientation if we are not all in mourning over what happened.” The other man advised Hirschfield not to get carried away. The incident was a problem, he acknowledged, but not a fundamental problem. Hearing those words, Hirschfield said, he knew it was time to go. Imam Johari Abdul-Malik of Dar ul Hijrah Mosque asked Hirschfield how he went from being a Hebron settler to Orthodox rabbi. “I tried so hard not to be,” he answered. “I ran from being a rabbi for 10 years.” The rabbi admitted that he loses sleep over the religious teachings he disagrees with. Everyone should go through life with two sheets of paper, he said, one containing all the values of their tradition that they love and the other listing all that they find hard to accept. “And when they have a feeling that they have to throw away one in order to keep the other then there is a problem.” Rabbi Hirschfield didn’t want to write his book, he said. “What the world needs now is not more books,” he explained to the imam, “but more conversations.” But when his publisher asked him to write a book in the form of conversations, Hirschfield agreed. We live in a very polarized time in human culture, he noted, and religion is playing an important role in many ways. “We have more people dying today in the name of religion than anytime in history since the Crusades,” he said. Later the rabbi took questions from the audience. One woman who said she rediscovered her faith in Islam after hearing a passionate sermon by a rabbi, asked whether it is possible for the Israelis and the Palestinians to reach a joint narrative, At this time in history he was doubtful, Hirschfield replied, but that didn’t mean the killing must continue. “It seems to me that before we need to worry about forging a joint narrative, each side will need to locate within its own narrative some motivation for being a little more open, a little more gentle, not because it is good for the other side, but because it is the only way to be true to the narrative they hold dear.” He proudly considers himself a religious Zionist, the rabbi continued, and as a Zionist he believes there must be a free, safe and independent Palestinian state—not because it is good for “those people,” but because it is the just action to take. A Palestinian Christian man who was a refugee from Lydda alluded to Jesus teaching his followers to turn the other cheek. When someone throws you out of your home, he asked Rabbi Hirschfield, how do you turn the other cheek? The rabbi explained that in ancient times to offer the other cheek was not accepting abuse, but a form of nonviolent resistance. “It is not simply lying down and taking it,” he noted, “but finding modes of resistance which forces the other person to realize the weakness of their position, not on your, but their terms.” Another woman asked Rabbi Hirschfield what he would tell the settlers in Hebron about leaving the area. The rabbi replied that he strongly believes it is impossible for any Jewish community to remain in Hebron permanently. “The challenge of Hebron is that the people who most know when it is time to leave will not weep over leaving,” he concluded, “and the people who would grieve over leaving don’t understand it is long past time to go.” —Jamal Najjab |
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