nakba poem

by jewonthisguest

a guestpost (or, more precisely, the sharing of a poem) by friend of the blog, and Melbourne-based writer, Micaela Sahhar

On the day of our Nakba, a reflection on an article published in The New York Times during Operation Cast Lead in Gaza. Describing a scene of chaotic abjection at Shifa Hospital, a journalist wrote ‘all hope flickered out’. In response I wrote a poem, angered by the ease of a suggestion that the Palestinians might just fold if things got bad enough. They have, and we haven’t. So in acknowledgment, love and solidarity with all Palestinian people today, but particularly to the ones in my life: you, the life blood, our hope has not flickered out.

Reportage
(for shoe throwers everywhere)

Hope flickered out, the journalist purpled describing
the body of a young man who two hours frozen
returned: the shudder of a wrist, fresh blood at his
mouth (no one on hand to explain how air waits
in the lungs for hours) – instead, his brother yelled
‘How could you keep him in the refrigerator?’ The journalist

(again) described the family member – Male, Angry.
Later that day, in an event seemingly unrelated, Two
males (angry) scaled the barrier at Qalqilya. Ignoring
the warning shots, apparently (so logically what followed
were shots to kill). In the event, One survived, however,
while others kept throwing rocks. Analysis some years

hence evinces a picture of how the journalist’s
prose has perished, exposing the planar nucleus of
transmission again. Hope has not flickered out.

pieces of the past

by tobybee

I think a lot about how to create social change, or how to engage with people in effective ways, or when to scrap strategy and just stand in solidarity. I have no idea how effective Szmul Zygielbojm thought he was being when he killed himself 70 years ago, on May 12, 1943 – he gassed himself and asked to be cremated – or when he sent this letter explaining why. But it is clear that his actions are affecting and that they ask us to consider what we are willing to do in solidarity with others.

Zygielbojm – a Bundist – wrote this letter, Yiddishkeyt explains, “in utter despair upon receiving the news of the complete destruction of the Warsaw ghetto, in protest at the passivity with which the world was reacting in the face of the ongoing genocide, and in an act of unimaginable solidarity — killed himself by gas in his London apartment. In his note he wrote: ‘I cannot remain silent. I cannot live while the remnants of the Jewish people in Poland whose representative I am are being exterminated.’”

gendered dating etiquette

by tobybee

Someone I know was interviewed for this sbs podcast that played today, called “A look at ethnic dating in Australia”. The transcript shows that a variety of ethnic groups were involved in this, including the Jews. And as a result I discovered an Australian-based matchmaking site called J-Junction. Michelle Lewis, who runs the site, says in the podcast that “The reason that continuity is so important for the Jewish community is that if we look at the statistics – and we do when there’s a census, we look at those and we have people who do reports on them – and within a couple of generations at the current rate of intermarriage there will be hardly any people worldwide outside of Israel who actually identify as Jewish.”

I find comments like this super-interesting. I can’t imagine that it’s possibly empirically true (that within a couple of generations there might not be many people who identify as Jewish), and it’s a nice bit of a Zionist fantasy in there too, but it’s more interesting to think about how such statements come to have meaning. How is this link between intermarriage and Jewish identity developed and maintained? Where does it get its force from? How does such a link become thinkable?

Leaving that to one side, on the website (which I explored strictly for research purposes only), they explain that the system works by a matchmaker setting up two people. And then, “When two members mutually approve a match, phone numbers are sent to both members to arrange a conversation and then plan a date. Men are encouraged to contact women within three (3) days of receiving the phone number. If he cannot call the woman, then he should contact the matchmaker to let her know when he will be calling. If women would like to make the initial contact this must be mentioned to your matchmaker.”

Because of course, if a woman wants to call a man, alarms must be sounded. Remember that ladies.

indefinite detention

by tobybee

About thirty minutes drive north from my house, in Broadmeadows, sits MITA, the Melbourne Immigrant Transit Accommodation facility. You hear that name and it’s possible to imagine that the people who are detained inside are merely on their way through, temporarily being held there until they are released in some way. Tragically though, at the moment that’s not the case.

Approximately 50 refugees – people, most of whom are Tamil, who have been through the disastrously long and unwieldy processes that our government hurls at them and have proven their refugee status – being imprisoned there have been given a negative assessment by ASIO. They are “ASIO rejected refugees”. This means, quite simply, that ASIO has said that there is a problem with them – that they are a danger in some way – but they have not explained how, or in what way. As others have pointed out, this can mean that there has been a determination not that a refugee has done anything wrong before, but that they have the potential to do something wrong in the future. Moreover, ASIO assessments are kept secret: the refugees are not told of the allegations against them, nor are their lawyers. nobody. there is no possibility of appeal. The effect of this is to create a situation of indefinite detention: they are refugees, but are not allowed out of prison. Think about that. (it seems to me just one more reason why systems of detention are never ok, why we need to be working so hard to take that right to imprison away from governments)

And so some of these men – 27 at the moment – sitting in Broadmeadows, have begun a hunger strike. Today is day 6. They are spending their time sitting outside, and have painted banners (one of which you can see here) to try to communicate with the Australian population, and with the Government who holds the key to their futures. On Day one they released this statement to explain what they are doing:

MESSAGE FROM THE ASIO REJECTED REFUGEES:

We are 30 people here at Melbourne Immigration Transit Accommodation (25 Tamils, 2 Burmese and 2 Iranian) and 56 people all over the Australian detention. We have been here for four years and more. We cannot tolerate it any longer. We need to be released to save our
lives.

At 2 a.m. today (Monday, April 8, 2013) we began a hunger strike together. All 30 of us plan to keep doing this until there is solution, one way or the other.

We will gather together in the grounds of the detention centre and stay there until we get a solution. If the Australian Government does not release us, we ask that they kill us mercifully.

We have painted banners as part of our protest. There is one that shows many people hanging. That is what we want to happen to us if we are not released. for life here.

People in here are jumping off rooves, they are going on hunger strikes, they are taking tablets, they are trying to hang themselves……It is a cruel and inhumane environment for everyone.

We plead with you, the Australian people, to help us. We are on the edge of life and don’t know how much longer we can stand it.

We ask Prime Minister Gillard, Immigration Minister O’Connor, Attorney-General Mark Dreyfus Opposition leader Abbott and ASIO director David Irvine to stop this torture of all of us……. of
men, women and children, who have done nothing to warrant this cruel treatment that is destroying our minds.

We ask the authorities : You say we are a threat to this nation. So if we are such people why have they now put women and children and families in here with us? We are willing to be released into
the community under strict orders if they think we are threats, which we aren’t. But whatever they want we will do.

But we can’t keep living like this. We are not in detention. We are in a cemetery.

We don’t want to die. We left Sri Lanka, Burmese and Iran because we fear to die. We came to Australia to live, not die. But death would be better than the life we have.

SIGNED.
ALL ASIO REFUGEES-AUSTRALIA.

This is happening 30 minutes down the road from my house. That fact hits me over the head; my friends have kept remarking on it in the last couple of days (despite the fact that we try to care about, mourn, and grieve lives that are damaged all around the world, that we fight against injustice in all sorts of places). There is something particularly awful about this happening at the edge of an industrial park, just down the road.

Some people have set up a 24 hour solidarity vigil at MITA, people are going inside to visit the refugees, and others are visiting the vigil briefly. I went yesterday for a couple of hours. It was one of the more distressing moments of a life. We went around the side, and stood with a warehouse, long driveway and fences between us and the men. We waved to each other, clapped so we could all hear each other, and those of us on the outside shouted words of support. And it seemed quite simple: this situation should not exist. And quite horrifying: but it does.

So what can you do? what should you do?
Firstly, you should care. You should care that this is being done by your government, that this is happening just down the road.

Secondly, you should take action. There’s so many levels to what needs to be done. The Minister – Brendan O’Connor – is the man who can make the decision to free them. What power he holds. You can contact him and tell him to release these refugees. Send him an email, call his office, visit his electorate office (which happens to be in Caroline Springs, also not far down the road).

Keep up to date with what is happening by looking at this blog, visiting this facebook event or visiting the RISE facebook page.

You can go join the vigil. It doesn’t matter how long you go for, anytime offers something. I’ve been told that the vigil brings some comfort and support to those on hunger strike. There is no doubt that being able to see each other, and interact in that small way, brings some comfort. By visiting you can also support those who are camping there, and maintaining the vigil.

And, it seems to me, everyone should see what is being done, what is happening. Everyone should understand the processes put in place to determine the lives of people. Everyone should understand the structures of control and discrimination operated by the government. This should not be happening. Neither ASIO nor the government should have this power over life and death. The people must be freed.

Aamer Rahman: The Truth Hurts

by roadsideservice

Aarmer Rahman’s show is profoundly moving – his performance is erudite (as usual), and his punch lines diligent in their construction and delivery. You can see in this show – in its lengths and breadth – the manner in which Rahman has become a student of comedy. The ways in which his craft has taken place around different kinds of comedic forms and that his craft has taken form around serious considerations around constructing his comedy. Rahman doesn’t preach to the converted, but is comedian for the left. It is a humour for decolonisation, and a narrative of solidarity and pride. But, what I felt leaving Aamer’s show was this greater sense of being moved in the sense of being thrown off centre.

There is the deepest of tragedies underpinning Aamer’s show – in speaking back to the terror of white colonial society. As someone who has been privileged so much by the relationships of this society, I kept coming back to James Baldwin’s words at Oxford University in 1965. Baldwin, discussing police violence against civil rights demonstrations in Selma Alabama, Baldwin said “What happens to the man who does it is in some ways much, much worse. Their moral lives have been destroyed by the plague called color” (1965). Aamer’s work is such an indictment of colonial society and the infinite ways it manifests and reinvents itself.

At times I felt like the show needed a helmsmen to guide the audience through the murky waters of punchlines in uneasy seas. Aamer’s work hinges on the need to laugh at the oppressor, but I felt like a gentle hand was needed to guide people through the tricky times when it is impossible to laugh. I don’t think this is the same as apologising for content, or turning the volume down on anger, or ensuring the privileged feel comfortable. I went to another show whose major theme was racism and much of the humour fell flat in its lack of confidence.

What I think I am referring to is the feeling of awkwardness during the show when I realised I was continuing to smile and laugh when the narrative had moved on – where dark humour had shifted to tragedy. I wondered if whether Aamer could have guided the audience a bit more in mediating this.

But this too is a part of the routine, a challenge in an already boundary pushing performance.

He deals with issues of colonialism, Israel/Palestine, nationalism, cultural appropriation, hip-hop, refugees, protest, the police and history and much more.

I went to uni with Aamer. I am always a little bit excited to tell people this: those of us who studied and grew politically alongside of him are not shy of, well, dropping his name here and there. For myself, this is out of a genuine pride in being associated with such an amazing talent. Make sure you see this show.

 Aamer Rahman’s The Truth Hurts is on at the Melbourne Town Hall as part of the  Melbourne International Comedy Festival from March 27 to April 21 at the Melbourne Town Hall. There might be an extra show happening. Or something. Try calling at 7:30 if the show has sold out. For more information click here. For Aamer’s facebook page click here.

the four…

by jewonthisguest

as said at a second night seder in melbourne by z.
hebrew via the interwebs.

בָּרוּךְ הַמָּקוֹם, בָּרוּךְ הוּא. בָּרוּךְ שֶׁנָּתַן תּוֹרָה לְעַמּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל, בָּרוּךְ הוּא. כְּנֶגֶד אַרְבָּעָה בָנִים דִּבְּרָה תּוֹרָה . אֶחָד חָכָם, וְאֶחָד רָשָׁע, וְאֶחָד תָּם, וְאֶחָד שֶׁאֵינוֹ יוֹדֵעַ לִשְׁאוֹל

חָכָם מָה הוּא אוֹמֵר? מַה הָעֵדוֹת וְהַחֻקִּים וְהַמִשְׁפָּטִים אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ אֶתְכֶם? וְאַף אַתָּה אֱמָר לוֹ כְּהִלְכוֹת הַפֶּסַח: אֵין מַפְטִירִין אַחַר הַפֶּסַח אֲפִיקוֹמָן

רָשָׁע מָה הוּא אוֹמֵר? מָה הָעֲבֹדָה הַזֹּאת לָכֶם? לָכֶם – וְלֹא לוֹ. וּלְפִי שֶׁהוֹצִיא אֶת עַצְמוֹ מִן הַכְּלָל כָּפַר בְּעִקָּר. וְאַף אַתָּה הַקְהֵה אֶת שִנָּיו וֶאֱמֹר לוֹ: בַּעֲבוּר זֶה עָשָׂה יי לִי בְּצֵאתִי מִמִּצְרָיִם. לִי – וְלֹא לוֹ. אִילּוּ הָיָה שָׁם, לֹא הָיָה נִגְאָל

תָּם מָה הוּא אוֹמֵר? מַה זֹּאת? וְאָמַרְתָּ אֵלָיו: בְּחֹזֶק יָד הוֹצִיאָנוּ יי מִמִּצְרָיִם, מִבֵּית עֲבָדִים

וְשֶׁאֵינוֹ יוֹדֵעַ לִשְׁאוֹל – אַתְּ פְּתַח לוֹ, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: וְהִגַּדְתָּ לְבִנְךָ בַּיוֹם הַהוּא לֵאמֹר, בַּעֲבוּר זֶה עָשָׂה יי לִי בְּצֵאתִי מִמִּצְרָיִם

Blessed is the blessing. Blessed that we can sit as friends, as family and as fucked-up individuals lashed together by empty ritual, tradition and blood and fill this with meaning. That we can build and destroy together.

The Torah speaks of Four Sons – not really, it doesn’t exist in that form – but the Rabbis, as men, thought that there were four sons worthy of inclusion and many invisible daughters who weren’t worth mentioning at all. They also didn’t mention animals, non-Jews and people who didn’t resemble themselves. Fuck that!

The Symbol of Wisdom – this symbol is the all-knowing, all powerful patriachal dictator that we internalise as we are socialised in our houses, our families and communities. he confuses the narrative with historical factoids and presents a slick retelling of the story as a totally reasonable history. and we internalise and adopt these stories as our own. to this, we must say, fuck us!

The Symbol of Wicked – this symbol is the land developer who talks about property prices and never about Indigenous people and their land, and the minor functionaries of capitalism who grease the wheels while complaining ironically about being functionaries of capitalism, and the csg volunteers who perpetuate and construct the siege mentality that zionism so loves in melbourne. to this, we must say, fuck us!

The Symbol of the Simple – this symbol is of the status quo, of those parts of us that think that rape culture isn’t a problem because it’s everywhere and that episode 9 of Girls was fine because it didn’t confront, call-out and reject the rape scene at the end between Adam and that random character. to this, we must say, fuck us!

The Symbol of the Blank – this symbol is of the uninformed, of those parts of us who think the Jewish News is a source of information, that Australian history begins in 1788, that Prisoner X and Zionism is totally fine, and that refugees who risk their lives on boats are queue jumping scum. to this, we must say, fuck us!

the possibilities of ethical consumption

by tobybee

This is an area of activism that’s highly discussed and debated by those of us on the anti-capitalist left. When combined with the politics of the bds movement, it’s even more fraught.

I’ve engaged with BDS in bits and pieces. I understand it to be a useful tactic, called for by palestinians, and one which everyone seems to be still learning how to best deploy. I know for sure that I don’t know for sure how it can always be best used. But I also know that I want to keep learning, and trying it out, and that I’d rather try and fail than not use it at all. the elements of BDS seem to be a good way of demonstrating solidarity with palestinians, with respecting and supporting resistance.

As part of my work with AJDS I’ve been involved in establishing a new campaign in which we’re encouraging people to stop buying products from israeli settlements. We’re framing it as a “don’t buy from the settlements campaign”, as we recognise that the language of ‘boycott’ can sometimes be alienating and distracting: that people can get bogged down in refusing to ‘boycott’, rather than recognising that part of what is being asked for is that you don’t spend your money on those products. Simply, that you consume ethically and get educated about the effects of the settlements, and the occupation more broadly.

This is what we have to say:

At this time of Pesach—the festival of freedom—we remember that we were slaves in Egypt.

What does it mean to remember this?

It means that we remember what it means to be imprisoned, to not be able to determine our fate.

It means that we remember what it means to be an oppressed and dominated people.

It means that remember that as we were slaves in Egypt, so too others are enslaved and oppressed in many countries around the world, and that we must fight alongside them for their freedom.

We remember that escape was possible, that slavery came to an end.

On this Pesach we ask you to join a long history of Jews who have fought for freedom, for both Jews and for others. To stand alongside others, Jews and non-Jews, who have made ethical choices about how to live their lives in order to make themselves better people, and to make the world a better place.

And so in this tradition of Pesach, as well as in the relatively new tradition of making decisions about what products we purchase based on a set of ethics (as we have done in the past with Nescafe, Shell, and products which are harmful to the environment), this year we commit to not buying products that are produced in settlements the West Bank.

[...]

Because settlements are seen as an obstruction to peace, many Jews around the world have committed themselves to not buying from settlements. They, and we, take this nonviolent action in the hope that international Jewish pressure—both economic and political—will come to bear on the Israeli Government. With this pressure, the Government will realise that settlements are no longer viable, that the settlements are an embarrassment and the settlement project must be rethought.

Not buying products from settlements will not work on its own, but it is one small step that we can take. When we add in the possibility of sharing knowledge about what the settlements mean and what they do, together with the capability to have these difficult conversations about what kind of Israel we want to create, we can work alongside Palestinians, Israelis, and people throughout the diasporas to create an exciting, liberating future.

So head over to the facebook page and the website, where you can find some detailed explanations as to why the settlements are harmful, information about what products to avoid, and maps that lay out where everything is.

pesach music

by tobybee

here are two versions of chad gadya for you, as – in Australia at least – we get close to the start of Pesach.

The first by Arab Jewish women’s choir “Shirana” from The Arab-Jewish community center in Jaffa. (hattip to Sol Salbe)

and the second, Chazzan Benzion Miller & Yanky Lemmer, accompanied by an all star Klezmer quartet (Frank London – Trumpet; Michael Winograd – Clarinet; Aaron Alexander – Drums; Patty Farrell – Accordion), in Brooklyn just the other night

enjoy! and may we take seriously the memory that we were once slaves in biblical egypt, and take seriously the injunction to turn that memory into (radical) change in all our communities (even the ones we think we’re not a part of) and personal interactions.

(dis)loyalty

by tobybee

in an article addressing the ‘Ben Zygier affair’ (for want of a better label) entitled “Loyalty of Australian-Israelis shouldn’t be doubted” on the drum the other day, philip chester (the president of the zionist federation of australia) wrote, in part, that

Being loyal to Australia and to Israel is an easy fit. Australians and Israelis share common values.

Both nations pride themselves on their robust democracies, free speech and media, and independent legislature and judiciary. Both peoples share common interests – education and culture, sport and a love of each country’s natural geographic beauty.

[...]

Australia and Israel are strong allies, and relationships built on the battlegrounds of the two World Wars underscore the enduring nature of the friendship and shared values. In a geopolitical sense, despite the vast distances, Israel and Australia are close. Our abhorrence of terror and commitment to Western democracy make the alliance firm and natural.

Bilateral trade, partnerships in medical, scientific and environmental research among other examples underscore this historically strong relationship between the two nations.

[...]

We do not know the facts or details around Ben Zygier’s death or the circumstances leading to it. To suggest that this tragedy was brought on by inherent conflicts of loyalty and identity casts dangerous and unwarranted aspersions on the entire Jewish community.

There should be absolutely no doubt that the fundamental loyalties of Australian Jews and dual nationality Australian-Israelis to both homeland and birthplace remain solid, balanced and totally compatible.

there are many threads that one could pick up here, and by not discussing some, i don’t mean to suggest that they’re not important (for instance, i think a serious and informed conversation about the histories attached to the notion that jews are a people apart, or not loyal citizens, could be useful), but rather i want to pick up on one particular thread.

chester presents in his piece an interesting, and important, conception of what loyalty entails, and what a discourse of loyalty can do. what particularly grabbed my eye was this idea that one can be loyal to both australia and israel because they are, essentially, of the same quality: both are western democracies and abhor terror; they trade together, and believe in progress brought about through scientific venture.

the discourse of loyalty here functions as a tool of nation-building. remember people – australia and israel are the good countries! they are western! they are democratic! they treat people well! they are great places to live! if it’s said often enough, does that make it true? this is, after all, how it becomes possible to imagine nation-states as something that exists which one could be loyal to (as benedict anderson has shown us).

but of course merely saying it does not make it materially true. of course we know that the ways in which both of these countries are functional democracies is partial (in some similar ways, and some different ways to each other), etc etc. but chester makes these claims as a way of assisting both australian and israeli nation-building, but also, it would seem, as a way of demonstrating his personal loyalty to both nation-states. he belongs to both (or has the potential capacity to belong to both) because he knows these good things to be true about them.

in writing this piece chester furthers an argument that i’ve discussed and critiqued in conversations with a couple of friends over the last couple of weeks. chester assumes, and thereby helps to determine, that it is optimal that one be loyal to (at least one) nation-state. he assumes – like most others who have written on this topic since the news broke about Ben Zygier – that we all want to feel love for, or a connection with, or loyalty towards, a nation-state.

but this i reject. i want to make an argument here, then, that instead of embracing loyalty in its various possible permutations and affiliations, we should look to disloyalty.

instead of trying to evade the restrictions of nationalism by arguing for dual, or multiple, loyalties, we should open up the possibilities offered by declaring our disloyalty (to nations, to states, to communities). in this way we can potentially denaturalise the connection between nation and state, or the assumption that because one is born into a particular political community there is an automatic affiliation.

of course, this is something that the right does: hence we have terms such as ‘unaustralian’, or ‘jewish by birth’, or we can be called kapos for offering a divergence of opinion. but i’m not suggesting that there is anything politically useful in this formulation, which involves the denial of affiliation. instead, i am wondering about the possibility of a rejection of affiliation. the potential of making a demand that the state, the nation, or the community, be more precise with its language around what constitutes a member of a bounded community. in this way it would potentially become more difficult for people to say that there is an attachment between all jews and israel. we could choose – in a politicised, historically-informed, emotional decision – who we become attached to.

this is, i think, an idea that diasporism (jewish or otherwise) can offer to the discussion. a way of moving beyond the question of singular or dual loyalties. a way to cut through the idea that loyalty is inherently what is desired and good. it can remind us that one may never feel a loyalty to a state, but instead that a passport can be carried as merely a means of moving around the world (one which is, of course, a privilege to have).

one can feel connections though, i think, without feeling loyalty as such. and it’s in this gap between connection and loyalty that, maybe, the productive potential exists.

queering the doykeit

by tobybee

the internet has indeed (in my experience) been rad for building transnational communities of jewish diasporists. despite physical distance, we can connect over the lines, sharing ideas and building fledgling friendships. one such connection i’ve made has been to jenna brager, whose zine, doykeit, i discovered thanks to vlada. and so i’m loving the jewish ladies across the globe.

jenna’s just put out a new call out for submissions for a second edition of doykeit (doykeit, she writes in the first, “in a contemporary context implies a radical investment in the local communities that sustain us and an understanding that in a globalized society, solidarity politics must cross borders real and imagined), so, friends, get to it and submit something!:

Doykeit #2—“Diaspora”

The concept of ‘doykeit,’ Yiddish for ‘hereness,’ is taken from the pre-World War II Polish-Jewish group The Bund, which believed that Jews have both a right to live and a political commitment to work for change ‘here and now.’

Doykeit seeks to speak to the cross-sections of Jewish and queer/feminist identification and how these might inform an anti-Zionist or Palestinian solidarity politic.

For this issue of Doykeit, we ask for writing and art that considers one or more of the following topics: diaspora, home and “homeland,” galut, displacement, dispersal, remembrance, intergenerational relationships, borders, nationalism, and violence.

“The word ‘diaspora’ means dispersion. It originated in the Septuagint, one of the original Greek translations of the Bible: Deuteronomy 28:25: ‘thou shalt be a diaspora in all kingdoms of the earth.’…”

Some questions to consider:

–site(s) of diaspora and site(s) of “home”

–diaspora in a globalized society

–What does it mean to be a diaspora Jew (politically, spiritually etc.)?

–How is diaspora complicated/ take on different meaning in different Jewish communities (ethnic, geographic, denominational, etc.)?

–How do we build solidarity between/ within diasporic/ exilic communities?

Due May 1st