for multiple transgressions of…

…it’s time to boost this up to the top

The words of Amos, who was among the writ­ers of Tel Aviv, which he saw, con­cern­ing Israel in the days of Cas­tro, Sartre, Rus­sell and all the rest…

The fol­low­ing text appeared in the Octo­ber 1968 edi­tion of Mid­stream mag­a­zine. It was dis­trib­uted very wide­ly as a long leaflet in the late 1960s. Jay tracked down a copy for me. Con­sid­er­ing that it’s over forty years old and there are no copies of it on the web, and the author is now dead (August 4, 2009 יד אב תשסט), and that it’s still a very good piece I have tak­en the lib­er­ty of offer­ing it here (with links to help make clear some of the ref­er­ences as well as sub­head­ings to break up the con­tin­u­ous text.

Jay and I were among the many young Jews who were touched by what Kenan had to say. We dis­trib­uted the arti­cle as wide­ly as pos­si­ble in the late ’60s. Among oth­ers who were so touched and have now writ­ten appre­ci­a­tions of Kenan are J. J. Gold­berg in the For­ward and David Twer­sky at the JTA.

With very few updat­ed ref­er­ences, this Let­ter is, sad­ly, as time­ly now as it was then… and wor­thy of being read by a new generation.

A Letter to all Good People

To Fidel Castro, Sartre, Russell and All the Rest

By AMOS KENAN ז“ל

I am for Cuba. I love Cuba. I am opposed to the geno­cide per­pe­trat­ed by the Amer­i­cans in Viet­nam. I want the Amer­i­cans to get out of Viet­nam immediately.

But I am an Israeli, there­fore I am for­bid­den to take all these stands. Cuba does not want me to love her. Some­one has decid­ed that I am per­mit­ted to love only the Amer­i­cans. I don’t mind so much that some­one, espe­cial­ly the good peo­ple every­where, have decid­ed to out­law me. I shall be able to get along with­out their help. But I do mind that I am not per­mit­ted any longer to love and hate accord­ing to my feel­ings, and accord­ing to my polit­i­cal and moral incli­na­tions, and that I am refused invi­ta­tion or even admit­tance to par­ties held by the good peo­ple. I am not per­mit­ted any longer to toast jus­tice with a glass of cham­pagne. I am not per­mit­ted to eat caviar and denounce the Amer­i­cans. I am not per­mit­ted to stroll in the sun-drenched streets of Havana, arm-in-arm with my erst­while good friends from St. Ger­main, Via Vene­to and Chelsea, and cel­e­brate the mem­o­ry of Che Gue­vara, cast­ing a threat­en­ing look at impe­ri­al­ism. I am also final­ly and absolute­ly for­bid­den to sign peti­tions of all sorts for human rights and for the release of polit­i­cal pris­on­ers from the jails of reac­tionary regimes. I am not “In,” I am “Out.” For me the par­ty is over. Period.

This sit­u­a­tion dri­ves me slight­ly out of my mind. There­fore I wish to relate a few con­fused, dis­con­nect­ed sto­ries. Per­haps some good man will find the con­nec­tion. Here we go.

hasten to the aid of distressed vessels; or not

One day an Israeli sub­ma­rine sank in the Mediter­ranean with its six­ty-nine crew mem­bers. Its SOS was answered, among oth­ers, by the British, Turk­ish and Greek fleets. The Russ­ian navy, which was cruis­ing very close to the loca­tion, did not join in the search. Moscow Radio’s Arab broad­casts, took the trou­ble to denounce the coun­tries whose ships rushed to help the lost submarine.

It is a sacred prin­ci­ple of sea­men of all nations to has­ten to the aid of dis­tressed ves­sels. In civ­i­lized coun­tries, like Eng­land, it is cus­tom­ary to aid even an ene­my, even in wartime. The explic­it rule bind­ing on any cap­tain is to risk his life and his ves­sel in order to save the vic­tims. It is well worth not­ing that even com­man­ders of Ger­man U‑boats dur­ing the Sec­ond World War, except mem­bers of the SS, used to sur­face after sink­ing an Allied ship, sup­ply the sur­vivors with water, food and maps, and give them the cor­rect course to a safe haven. But the glo­ri­ous days of Nazi human­ism are appar­ent­ly over. The Israeli sub­ma­rine was not on a war mis­sion, and Israel is not in a state of war with the Sovi­et Union. Nev­er­the­less, Moscow Radio is of the opin­ion that any­one rush­ing to my aid in my dis­tress does not help humanity.

I am not so naive as to believe that this is anti-Semi­tism, Sovi­et style. I have nev­er believed that the Sovi­ets are guid­ed in their cal­cu­la­tions by such pow­er­ful and sin­cere emo­tions as anti-Semi­tism, which is com­mon to both the pro­gres­sive and the reac­tionary camps. I know that the Rus­sians con­duct a cool, con­sid­ered, prag­mat­ic pol­i­cy and are guid­ed by clear polit­i­cal con­sid­er­a­tions. This was a polit­i­cal move, car­ried out as a part of a polit­i­cal game.

The mean­ing of this move can only be: Israel must be iso­lat­ed from the civ­i­lized human com­mu­ni­ty. The rules that apply to the civ­i­lized com­mu­ni­ty, rules of hon­or, con­sid­er­a­tion and mutu­al aid, do not apply to me.

the shedding of my blood is no crime

I am out. There is only one more step to the con­clu­sion: the shed­ding of my blood is no crime.

And now the con­clu­sion: A dev­as­tat­ing attack on me. Dev­as­tat­ing, but nec­es­sary and just. It is per­mis­si­ble to destroy a per­son whom it is not oblig­a­tory to save. It is a duty to destroy a per­son whom it is oblig­a­tory not to save.

For­give my bru­tal way of putting things. I can­not con­ceive of it oth­er­wise. If this was a move in a game, the game must have an object. The object is the pen­e­tra­tion of the Mid­dle East, and let us assume, for the sake of argu­ment, that this is for the pur­pose of advanc­ing world rev­o­lu­tion and the over­throw of impe­ri­al­ism. The Mid­dle East con­tains one-hun­dred-mil­lion Arabs and two-and-a-half mil­lion Israelis. There is no need for an elec­tron­ic com­put­er to prove which is the eas­i­er way out. But it is not so easy, in our enlight­ened world, to wipe out two-and-a-half mil­lion peo­ple. A rea­son and a jus­ti­fi­ca­tion are need­ed. You can­not wipe out just like that. First of all, you must out­law. In an excel­lent Czech film we have seen how the towns­peo­ple did not object to the con­fis­ca­tion of Jew­ish prop­er­ty. Those who did not oppose the con­fis­ca­tion did not oppose the depor­ta­tion, and after the deportation …

There­fore, as long as there is one good Israeli, you can­not destroy Israel. There­fore there must not be a sin­gle just Israeli in Sodom. There­fore you must not invite an Israeli Com­mu­nist Par­ty to a con­ven­tion of Com­mu­nist par­ties. There­fore you must not invite a left­ist Israeli author to a con­fer­ence of left­ist authors in Havana.

There are no more class dis­tinc­tions. There are only nation­al dis­tinc­tions. Even an Israeli left­ist is an impe­ri­al­ist. And an oil sheikh is a social­ist. The way is open.

it is permissible to compare me to the Nazis

There­fore it is per­mis­si­ble to com­pare me to the Nazis. It is per­mis­si­ble to call me a gauleit­er. It is per­mis­si­ble to mobi­lize all of the world’s con­sci­en­tious peo­ple against me – with­out them you can­not do it – and all this because there is an object loom­ing beyond the hori­zon, an object for the sake of which this tac­tic is jus­ti­fi­able and useful.

I beg your par­don. I want to tell you some­thing about myself, before I con­tin­ue with my con­fused stories.

Until quite recent­ly I also belonged to the good peo­ple. Mean­ing that not only did I sit in cafés and sign peti­tions for the release of polit­i­cal pris­on­ers in coun­tries not my own. Not only did I join procla­ma­tions, after sip­ping my aper­i­tif, for the release of the down­trod­den from the yoke of impe­ri­al­ism in places I shall nev­er reach; I also did some­thing against what seemed to me to be oppres­sion and injus­tice in my own country.

After hav­ing fought as a mem­ber of the Stern Group for the lib­er­a­tion of my coun­try and the whole Mid­dle East from impe­ri­al­ism, I did not turn auto­mat­i­cal­ly from being an oppressed per­son into an oppres­sor, as hap­pens, unfor­tu­nate­ly, to many peo­ple in many places.

I am used to being called a traitor by local patriots

Dur­ing the twen­ty years of the exis­tence of the State of Israel, I helped with my pen in my reg­u­lar news­pa­per col­umn, by fight­ing against the injus­tices com­mit­ted against the Arab minor­i­ty. And not by the pen only, but also in demon­stra­tions, and also when arraigned before a mil­i­tary tri­bunal. I am used to being called a trai­tor by local patri­ots – which is a uni­ver­sal phe­nom­e­non. I shall have to get used to being called a trai­tor by my pro­gres­sive friends, too.

Peo­ple close to me here once estab­lished a Com­mit­tee for a Free Alge­ria. When the Alger­ian MIG’s do appear in Israel’s skies – I say this par­en­thet­i­cal­ly – poet­ic jus­tice demands that they should first bomb the homes of the mem­bers of this Com­mit­tee. Now you can close the paren­the­ses, with us included.

Dur­ing the Six Day War, in June 1967, the bat­tal­ion I served in was ordered to super­vise the demo­li­tion of four Arab vil­lages: I con­sid­ered it my duty to desert from my unit, to write a report of this action, and to send the copies to the Gen­er­al Staff of the Army, to mem­bers of the Gov­ern­ment and to Knes­set mem­bers. This report has been trans­lat­ed and cir­cu­lat­ed in the world as a proof of Israel’s crimes.

But per­mit me to con­clude the sto­ry. The action I under­took was in fla­grant vio­la­tion of any mil­i­tary law. Accord­ing to mil­i­tary reg­u­la­tions I should have been court-mar­tialed. I have no idea what would have been the sen­tence of a Red Army sol­dier were he to vio­late nation­al and mil­i­tary dis­ci­pline in such a man­ner, and I refuse to guess what would have hap­pened to him even in my worst dreams.

After return­ing to my unit, I was ordered to present myself – I, a pri­vate in rank – before the Gen­er­al com­mand­ing all the divi­sions on that front. He told me that he had read my report and con­sid­ered it his duty to inform me that what had occurred was a regret­table error which will not recur.

I disbelieved his statement that this was only a mistake

Deep in my heart I dis­be­lieved his state­ment that this was only a mis­take. I was con­vinced that who­ev­er ordered such an action did not expect such resis­tance from with­in – the men of my bat­tal­ion refused to car­ry out the order – and was alarmed at the impres­sion such an action might cre­ate abroad. But I was glad that he found it nec­es­sary to announce that this was only an error. I asked him how he intends to ensure that the ‘error’ will nev­er recur. On the spot he signed an order per­mit­ting me free move­ment in all occu­pied ter­ri­to­ries so that I could see with my own eyes that such an action had not recurred.

But since then, in all the peace-papers in the world, my report about the destruc­tion of vil­lages has been reprint­ed over and over again, as if it hap­pened only yes­ter­day, as if it hap­pened again and again, as if it is hap­pen­ing all the time. And this is a lie. It is like writ­ing that witch­es have been burnt at the stake in Eng­land – omit­ting the date.

I here­by request all those who believed me when I report­ed a crim­i­nal act, to believe me now too. And those who do not believe me now, I here­by request to dis­be­lieve my for­mer report too, and not to believe me selec­tive­ly, accord­ing to their con­ve­nience. I should also add that the town of Kalk­iliya, which began to be demol­ished dur­ing the writ­ing of my report, is now in the process of being rebuilt, after the expelled inhab­i­tants have been brought back. I know that any­one protest­ing injus­tice is some­what dis­ap­point­ed if his protest helps to rec­ti­fy the injus­tice. But what can I do if it did happen?

the less you fight me, the more you would help me fight [injustices]

This does not mean that oth­er injus­tices are not per­pe­trat­ed now. The less you fight me, the more you would help me fight them.

If the Allies had defeat­ed Ger­many in 1940, there would have been no Auschwitz death camps. And today, were any­one to claim that the Ger­mans intend­ed to mur­der six mil­lion Jews, peo­ple would have said: This is mere­ly pro­pa­gan­da. They only talked that way. They did­n’t mean it. What can we do if the threats to destroy Israel, voiced before the Six-Day War, bore no fruit?

When the Rus­sians announced con­cen­tra­tions of Israeli troops on the Syr­i­an bor­der, Prime Min­is­ter Eshkol invit­ed Sovi­et Ambas­sador Chubakhin to accom­pa­ny him on a trip to the bor­der and to see for him­self that this was not true. The Sovi­et ambas­sador declined the invi­ta­tion. What naiveté on Eshkol’s part! If the Sovi­ets decid­ed, in order to advance their polit­i­cal aims, that they need Israel troop con­cen­tra­tions, what is the use of truth? Who said that the Rus­sians are not ready to fight to the last Egypt­ian, to the last Vietcong?

On the very day that the Sovi­et ambas­sador decid­ed that he had no inter­est in the truth, on the very day that the Rus­sians denounced Israel in spite of the open threats of destruc­tion issu­ing from the rulers of Egypt, Com­mu­nist Rus­sia joined a con­spir­a­cy of genocide.

No greater dis­as­ter could befall a man of the left. Even the most left­ist of men will not con­sent to be slaugh­tered when a sword is point­ed at his throat. Even when the sword is a pro­gres­sive one, it does not make it any the pleas­an­ter. The trou­ble is that not a sin­gle seri­ous per­son in the world believes today that Israel was real­ly in dan­ger of being anni­hi­lat­ed. This is the opti­cal illu­sion of 1968.

does anybody in the world have any memory

Does any­body in the world have any mem­o­ry at all? Who does real­ly remem­ber what hap­pened yesterday?

The gigan­tic Goliath is threat­en­ing lit­tle David. The fact that Goliath is a giant, and that David is small, is only an opti­cal illu­sion. If Goliath tri­umphs and tram­ples David under his feet, it is a sign that he real­ly is a giant. But if lit­tle David beats the giant, peo­ple say: the giant David has tram­pled poor lit­tle Goliath in the dust.

I claim that Israel played the role of David. And I claim that even now, after the stun­ning vic­to­ry, she still is lit­tle David who has indeed beat­en the stunned Goliath, but Goliath still is a men­ac­ing giant. Today, no less than in June 1967, Israel is in dan­ger of anni­hi­la­tion. Unless the enlight­ened world mobi­lizes now, imme­di­ate­ly, per­haps it will be too late. But I am afraid that there are not many peo­ple in the world today who will be sor­ry if vic­to­ri­ous David is destroyed.

Many more peo­ple would have been ready to mourn the anni­hi­lat­ed, beat­en David. And here again it is only a mat­ter of a moral opti­cal illusion.

A bit­ter sus­pi­cion ris­es in me that even the most enlight­ened among the pro­gres­sive peo­ple still adhere to the Chris­t­ian tra­di­tion that they imbibed in their moth­ers’ milk: Jew, stay on the cross. Nev­er get off it. The day you get off the cross and hurl it at the heads of your cru­ci­fiers, we shall cease to love you.

An accursed peo­ple, the cru­ci­fied Mes­sian­ic peo­ple of the cru­ci­fiers of the cru­ci­fied Messiah.

a quiet, peace-loving, socialist country like Egypt…

The pic­ture which emerges today is more or less as fol­lows: A qui­et, peace-lov­ing, social­ist coun­try like Egypt, a coun­try try­ing, by means of an Ara­bic or Islam­ic social­ism, to trans­form itself rapid­ly from reli­gious feu­dal­ism into an indus­tri­al soci­ety, has been beset by a mil­i­taris­tic, cun­ning, expan­sion­ist state, which had hus­band­ed its might for years for the crush­ing and dev­as­tat­ing attack, and thanks to its tech­no­log­i­cal might has tram­pled a back­ward, help­less ene­my underfoot.

Who will believe us today, that what guid­ed us in the awful days of May 1967 was the oath to the six mil­lion? Who will believe that we tri­umphed because we had no oth­er alternative?

We have no army, no might, noth­ing. We have a nar­row coastal strip, unpro­tect­ed civil­ian cities. But on that bit­ter day when we felt that every­thing had closed around us, we knew that what had hap­pened once, what had always hap­pened, must nev­er hap­pen again. We decid­ed to resist. We decid­ed to fight in the hous­es, in the stair­wells, from street to street and from house to house. No flat in Tel-Aviv could have been con­quered with­out killing all men, women and chil­dren in it. No white flag would have been raised on a sin­gle build­ing in Tel Aviv. The con­quest of Israel would have been a very expen­sive business.

Today the Arabs boast of wag­ing rev­o­lu­tion­ary guer­ril­la war­fare. They claim to have copied the Viet­cong method of war­fare and are apply­ing it in the Mid­dle East. They march with Che Gue­vara’s picture.

This makes me laugh.

Just as Che Gue­vara’s pic­ture made me laugh hang­ing in the lux­u­ri­ous salons of Montparnasse.

I have always won­dered whether Che Gue­vara had a pic­ture of Che Gue­vara hang­ing in his salon.

What is the Viet­cong? The Viet­cong is not white flags on build­ings. The Viet­cong means fight­ing to the last man. The Viet­cong of the Mid­dle East, whether those who demon­strate with Che Gue­vara’s pic­ture like it or not, are we. We are pre­pared, at any moment, to wage the bat­tle to the death.

having been morally assassinated

After hav­ing been moral­ly assas­si­nat­ed, we are pre­pared to fight for our bare ter­res­tri­al lives, even with­out the sym­pa­thy and the bless­ing of the world’s pro­gres­sive camp. After the death camps, we are left with only one supreme val­ue: existence.

Some­thing about the use of the word “we”; I am not proud of this usage. Once, when I used to say “we,” I mean we, all those who love Che, who hate France. Those who love Nâzım Hik­met and hate oppres­sion. Once I believed that the real ene­my always dwells at home, and that the only true war is a civ­il war. Gone are the days. Today, if you are ready for me to die because of Dayan, and Dayan is not ready to die with me but to fight, whom should I choose?

Our exis­tence, today, is incon­ve­nient for those who work at the glob­al bal­ance of pow­er. It is more con­ve­nient that there should be two camps, one white, the oth­er black. We num­ber, as I said before, only two-and-a-half mil­lion peo­ple. On the glob­al map, what is the val­ue of a few hun­dred-thou­sand left­ists oppos­ing the Eshkol gov­ern­ment pol­i­cy and striv­ing for a gen­uine peace with the Arabs, who strive to lib­er­ate them­selves from the one-way depen­dence on Amer­i­can power?

Some­body has already decid­ed to sac­ri­fice us. The his­to­ry of rev­o­lu­tion is full of such sac­ri­fices since the days of the Span­ish Civ­il War. Once world rev­o­lu­tion was sac­ri­ficed on the altar of the “rev­o­lu­tion in one coun­try.” Today the cal­cu­la­tion is some­what subtler.

Today they try to explain to us that there is an Arab social­ism. There is an Egypt­ian social­ism, and an Alger­ian social­ism. There is a social­ism of slave-traders, and a social­ism of oil mag­nates. There are all kinds of social­ism, all aim­ing real­ly at one and the same thing — the over­throw of impe­ri­al­ism, which hap­pens to be one and indivisible.

there was only a single kind of socialism

Once there was only a sin­gle kind of social­ism, which fed on prin­ci­ples, some of them moral. On the day that moral­i­ty died there was born the par­tic­u­lar, con­ven­tion­al social­ism, chang­ing from place to place and from time to time, for which I have no oth­er name but Nation­al Social­ism.

I want to live. What can I do if Rus­sia, Chi­na, Viet­nam, India, Yugoslavia, Sartre, Rus­sell, Cas­tro, have all decid­ed that I am made all of a piece? It is incon­ve­nient for them to admit that there is an oppo­si­tion in Israel too. Why should there be an oppo­si­tion in Israel if in the Pop­u­lar Democ­ra­cies, in Cuba or Alge­ria, there is only one party?

And per­haps they do have pangs of con­science. But they have made their cal­cu­la­tion and found out that I am only one, only ten, only one-hun­dred-thou­sand, and on the oth­er side there are tens of mil­lions, all led like a sin­gle man, in a sin­gle par­ty, towards the light, towards the sun. And if so, who am I?

I will tell you who I am: I am the man who will con­fuse and con­found your pro­gres­sive cal­cu­la­tions. I have too much love with this vain world, a world of caviar, tele­vi­sion, sun­ny beach­es, sex and good wine. You go ahead and toast the rev­o­lu­tion with cham­pagne. I shall toast myself, my own life, bot­tle in one hand, rifle in the other.

Beware. God is not with you.

You send Sovi­et arms to Egypt. You iso­late me. And in order to make it eas­i­er to iso­late me, you change my name. My flesh, which you eat, you call fish. You don’t want to pro­tect me – nei­ther against the Arabs, nor against the Rus­sians, nor against Dayan or John­son. More­over, when I try to call on you and tell you that I am against Dayan, against Eshkol, against Ben-Guri­on, and ask for your help, you laugh at me and demand that I should return to the June 4 bor­ders uncon­di­tion­al­ly. Hold it! I refuse to play this game. If you give me back the pis­tol with which I tried to kill you, I won’t kill you. Because I am a nice fel­low. But if you don’t give it back to me, I shall kill you, because you are a bad fellow.

why weren’t the June 4 borders peace borders on the fourth of June?

Why weren’t the June 4 bor­ders peace bor­ders on the fourth of June, but will only become so now? Why weren’t the UN Par­ti­tion Plan bor­ders of 1947 peace bor­ders then, but will become so now? Why should I return his gun to the ban­dit as a reward for hav­ing failed to kill me?

I want peace peace peace peace, peace peace peace.

I am ready to give every­thing back in exchange for peace. And I shall give noth­ing back with­out peace.

I am ready to solve the refugee prob­lem. I am ready to accept an inde­pen­dent Pales­tin­ian state. I am ready to sit and talk. About every­thing, all at the same time. Direct talks, indi­rect talks, all this is imma­te­r­i­al. But peace.

Until you agree to have peace, I shall give back noth­ing. And if you force me to become a con­queror, I shall become a con­queror. And if you force me to become an oppres­sor, I shall become an oppres­sor. And if you force me into the same camp with all the forces of dark­ness in the world, there I shall be.

There is no lack of rabid mil­i­tarists in Israel. Their num­ber is steadi­ly increas­ing, the more our iso­la­tion becomes appar­ent. Nass­er helps Dayan, Kosy­gin helps Eshkol. Fidel Cas­tro helps the Jew­ish chau­vin­ists. Who of the world’s giants cares how many more Jews, how many more Arabs, bleed to death in the Sinai sands?

there is no lack here of mad hysterical militarists

There is no lack here of mad hys­ter­i­cal mil­i­tarists. All those qui­et cit­i­zens who went out to war with KLM trav­el bags and in laun­dry trucks, who scrib­bled on their tanks: “We Want to Be Home”. All those who fought with­out anger, with­out hatred, only for their lives, are becom­ing mil­i­taris­tic, con­vinced that only Israeli pow­er, and noth­ing else in the world, will ever help us.

The only ones who are pre­pared to defend me, for rea­sons I don’t like at all, are the Amer­i­cans. It is con­ve­nient for them, for the time being. You are fling­ing me towards Amer­i­ca, the bas­tion of democ­ra­cy and the mur­der­er of Viet­nam, who tram­ples the down­trod­den peo­ples and spares my life, who oppress­es the Negroes and sup­plies me with arms to save myself. You leave me no oth­er alter­na­tive. You don’t even offer me humil­i­at­ing terms, to be admit­ted through the rear door into the pro­gres­sive orgy. You don’t even want me to over­throw my gov­ern­ment. You only want me to sur­ren­der, uncon­di­tion­al­ly, and to believe the spokes­men of the Rev­o­lu­tion that hence­forth no Jew­ish doc­tors will be mur­dered, and that they will lim­it them­selves to the dec­la­ra­tion that Zion­ism is respon­si­ble for the riots in Warsaw.

Very fun­ny. The truth is that I and Sartre, two peo­ple with the same vision, more or less, with the same ideals, more or less, and if I may be per­mit­ted the imper­ti­nence, with the same moral lev­el, more or less, are now on oppo­site sides of the barricade.

We have been pushed to both sides by the cold cal­cu­la­tions of the peo­ple who sent us or aban­doned us. But the fact remains – these are not Amer­i­cans shoot­ing Rus­sians, nor cap­i­tal­ists shoot­ing social­ists, or free­dom-fight­ers shoot­ing the oppressors.

neither do I know who shall be more lucky

It is I, shoot­ing Sartre. I see him in my gun sights; he sees me in his gun sights. I still don’t know which of us is faster, more skilled, or more deter­mined to kill or be killed. Nei­ther do I know who shall be more lucky – the one who has no oth­er alter­na­tive, or the one who acts out of choice.

One thing is clear to me: if I sur­vive, I shall mourn Sartre’s death more than he would mourn mine.

And if that hap­pens, I shall nev­er be con­soled until I wipe from under the heav­ens both the cap­i­tal­ists and the com­mu­nists. Or they me. Or each the oth­er. Or all destroy all.

And if I sur­vive even that, with­out a god but with­out prophets either, my life will have no sense what­so­ev­er. I shall have noth­ing else to do but walk on the banks of streams, or on the top of the rocks, watch the won­ders of nature, and con­sole myself with the words of Eccle­si­astes, the wis­est of men: For the light is sweet, and it is good for the eyes to see the sun.

AMOS KENAN, one of Israel’s out­stand­ing jour­nal­ists, express­es here the pro­found sen­ti­ments of much of Israel’s pro­gres­sive com­mu­ni­ty and calls for the under­stand­ing and par­tic­i­pa­tion of the Left through­out the world in achiev­ing peace in the Mid­dle East. Kenan is a fea­ture writer for Yediot Achronot, from which the above was translated.

If you own copy­right to A Let­ter to All Good Peo­ple and you do not want me the pub­lish it here, let me know and I’ll, grudg­ing­ly, remove it.


If I remem­ber cor­rect­ly, at the time it pub­lished A Let­ter to All Good Peo­ple, Mid­stream was housed in the offices of the Jew­ish Agency for Israel (the Sochnut הסוכנות) at 515 Park Ave. in New York City. That build­ing has been torn down and a new, high-rise lux­u­ry apart­ment build­ing now has the address.

at 515 Park Ave., New York City
at 515 Park Ave., New York City
the lapel button for the Radical Zionist Alliance (Los Angeles, CA)
a lapel but­ton of the Rad­i­cal Zion­ist Alliance (Los Ange­les, CA)
Date:ca. 1971
Size:2.3
Pin Form:straight
Print Method:cel­lu­loid
TextRZA

some references to the Radical Zionist Alliance

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embrace the potential of each generation of seeds

Deuteron­o­my 20:19
כִּ֤י הָֽאָדָם֙ עֵ֣ץ הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה
Are trees of the field human?

In this New Year,
may we embrace the potential of
each generation of seeds to
transform the fields of our planet for good.
May these seeds yield
growth, blessing, repair, and peace.

A con­tem­po­rary view of this verse stress­es the sym­bol­ic nature of trees: “the anthro­po­mor­phic form of trees, which like peo­ple have roots (feet), a trunk (body), branch­es (hands), twigs (fin­gers), and leaves (hair).” (Prof. Shai Secun­da of Bard College)

This idea of human­iz­ing trees is at the core of the poem by award-win­ning Israeli poet Natan Zach titled “Tree of the Field.” Writ­ten after the 1982 Israeli war with Lebanon and set to music by Shalom Chanoch, it became a nation­al song of grief.

In prepar­ing this year’s card, I extend this metaphor. As the tree sym­bol­izes humans, the field rep­re­sents our nat­ur­al world, a sym­bi­ot­ic relationship.

In this year’s card the Hebrew let­ters that spell tree: עץ (in script form, with the ע invert­ed) depict the tree. Sim­i­lar­ly, the script of the let­ters that spell [grass­es of] the field: השדה por­tray the field.

A num­ber of ren­di­tions of the song are avail­able on YouTube:

Amer­i­can Can­tor Azi Schwartz:

Israeli singer Shalom Chanoch

Israeli singer Nurit Galron

initial concept

At the Jan­u­ary 2023 gath­er­ing of the Pacif­ic Asso­ci­a­tion of Reform Rab­bis, I par­tic­i­pat­ed in a work­shop on cre­ativ­i­ty and the rab­binate. We were offered a prompt. Com­bin­ing Gen­e­sis 2:9 and Deuteron­o­my 20:19, I drew:

עֵ֣ץ הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה⁩ | ט֥וֹב וָרָֽע

I imag­ined the “tree of the field” as the tree of the knowl­edge of good and evil in the cen­ter of the garden.

The image and the thought were too com­plex to fit into my 4″ x 6″ format:

Deuteron­o­my 20;19 & Gen­e­sis 2:9 (over­ly complex!)

settling on simple

the cut blocks:

עֵ֣ץ
הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה⁩

the prints:

עֵ֣ץ
הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה⁩
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First they came…

Today, Jan­u­ary 14, 2023, marks the one-hun­dred-thir­ty-first anniver­sary of the birth of Mar­tin Niemöller (born in 1892).

Today is also the birth­day of our niece Nora, who has long been aware of Mar­tin Niemöller and his poem.

Niemöller, creeping normality, and other analogies

The son of a Luther­an pas­tor, Niemöller was raised in a very con­ser­v­a­tive home in Lipp­stadt and Elber­feld. As a young man, he was an anti­semite and, ini­tial­ly a Hitler sup­port­er. Nonethe­less, though he main­tained many of his anti-Jew­ish ideas, he grew to oppose the Naz­i­fi­ca­tion of Ger­man Protes­tant church­es. Because of these activ­i­ties, he was impris­oned in the Sach­sen­hausen and Dachau con­cen­tra­tion camps (till April 1945).

After the war, on 6 Jan­u­ary 1946, Niemöller con­fessed and repent­ed for the error of his ways in a speech in Frank­furt for the Con­fess­ing Church. How­ev­er, Niemöller’s con­fes­sion, rewrit­ten as the poem: “First they came…” was writ­ten near­ly a cen­tu­ry after sim­i­lar obser­va­tions on how pro­gres­sions might occur were made.

Among the ear­li­est, were exper­i­ments on frogs’ respons­es to slow­ly heat­ed water. Ger­man phys­i­ol­o­gist Friedrich Goltz hop­ing to find the loca­tion of the soul, showed that a frog with its brain would attempt to escape water as it is slow­ly heat­ed. How­ev­er, if its brain had been removed the live frog would remain and get cooked. This is the apo­logue for the boil­ing frog.

Oth­er relat­ed analo­gies include (but are not lim­it­ed to):

Bro­ken win­dows theory

Slip­pery slope

Snow­ball effect

Ionesco’s Rhinocer­ous play

Per­haps because of its poet­ic form and the sim­plic­i­ty of its expres­sion Niemöller’s con­fes­sion has begun to serve as a stand-in for these var­i­ous analo­gies and there­by main­tains its relevance.

But it’s at Dachau where Niemöller’s sto­ry (geo­graph­i­cal­ly and tem­po­ral­ly) comes close to mine.

Hurvitzes visit Dachau

Nathan Hurvitz, PFC

Dad list­ed his unit — Com­pa­ny A, 179th Infantry Reg­i­ment, 45th Divi­sion. Jay was able to find a book, total­ly online — The sto­ry of a reg­i­ment, a his­to­ry of the 179th Reg­i­men­tal Com­bat by War­ren P. Mun­sell. The author clos­es his intro­duc­tion with:

Hitler’s Apart­ment,
Munich, Ger­many
May, 1945  

and lat­er notes:

The 179th C.P. was set up on the east bank of the Isar, in the apart­ment that was Adolph Hitler’s pri­vate res­i­dence in Munich! After the ini­tial trea­sure hunt, every­one set­tled down to car­ry out the 45th’s mis­sion-the occu­pa­tion of the city. 

The next para­graph reads:

The 2nd Bat­tal­ion joined the 3rd as a T Force, guard­ing build­ings in the met­ro­pol­i­tan area. The 1st Bat­tal­ion orga­nized riot squads and manned guard posts in Dachau, that unfor­get­table blot on the record of the human race which, from its box­cars piled with dead to its starved bod­ies stacked like fire­wood await­ing the cre­ma­to­ry, was Gen. Franz’s answer as to why Amer­i­cans were fight­ing Germany. 

Our father was sta­tioned in and around Munich for a few months when the war end­ed (May 8, 1945).

He told us very few sto­ries of his expe­ri­ences as a GI, though one of them described a spe­cial role he had. Because he grew up in a Yid­dish-speak­ing envi­ron­ment in an immi­grant Jew­ish fam­i­ly in Cleve­land, OH, his first lan­guage was Yid­dish. His supe­ri­ors in the Army in Ger­many fig­ured that his Yid­dish was good enough to stand in for Ger­man. He once report­ed hav­ing inter­viewed an “alte Yid­deneh” (“אַלטע ייִדענע” an old Jew­ish woman). His supe­ri­ors were incred­u­lous: “How could an old Jew­ish woman be alone and alive in the Munich area so late in the Nazi peri­od?!” Our father’s expe­ri­ence with old women was only with old Jew­ish women and had no oth­er word for this per­son. Per­haps it was because of his lan­guage “skills” that he was able to secure the spe­cif­ic apart­ment he had in “Hitler’s Apartment”.

He took a num­ber of pho­tos while there (and in the sur­round­ing towns). He wrote home to our moth­er that he was bil­let­ed in an apart­ment over­look­ing a “Platz” (which he cir­cled on the back of this pho­to and I have cir­cled on the front).

16 Prinzregentenplatz (München) then
16 Prinzre­gen­ten­platz (München) then

From there he was able to pho­to­graph this “parade of Ger­man prisoners”.

photo of a parade of German prisoners viewed from 16 Prinzregentenplatz (May 1945)
pho­to of a parade of Ger­man pris­on­ers viewed from 16 Prinzre­gen­ten­platz (May 1945)

In 2014, through cor­re­spon­dence with a col­league who spent time in Munich, I was able to learn that the build­ing still exists and that the apart­ment in ques­tion, indeed over­looks Prinzregentenplatz.

16 Prinzre­gen­ten­platz (München) now

I was able to inde­pen­dent­ly con­firm the report in Munsell’s book and our father’s report­ing of his own expe­ri­ence. What I’ve not been able to con­firm is Dad’s men­tion­ing that he worked at what had at one time been Hitler’s desk. He had a pho­to of him­self tak­en sit­ting at the desk he so des­ig­nat­ed. Inter­est­ing­ly in 2017, David Petro­n­is planned to bring a desk he claimed to be from Hitler’s 1930s-era apart­ment to a Gun and Mil­i­taria Show, but after a con­tro­ver­sy devel­oped about it, Petro­n­is backed down. We can “con­firm” that Dad men­tion­ing work­ing at “Hitler’s desk”. How­ev­er, we can’t (yet) con­firm that the desk he sat at in the fol­low­ing pho­to was real­ly Hitler’s desk.

Nathan Hurvitz at "Hitler's Desk"
Nathan Hurvitz at “Hitler’s Desk”
“Hitler’s Desk” accord­ing to David Petronis

Not to nor­mal­ize him in any way, nonethe­less, if I were Hitler, I’d use the desk Dad sat at!

the YIVO essay contest

In 1945, YIVO announced an essay con­test on the theme of “My Expe­ri­ences and Obser­va­tions as a Jew and a Sol­dier in World War II.” Fifty-two essays were received as sub­mis­sions and in Decem­ber 1946, Yedies fun YIVO [News from YIVO] report­ed on the award of prizes to the winners.

Dad’s essay was one of those 52 sub­mit­ted and shared the first prize. It was like­ly at “Hitler’s desk” that he wrote the let­ters that became the award-win­ning essay.

snip­pet from the Decem­ber 1946, issue of Yedies fun YIVO

His essay was based on vis­its he made to Allach and Dachau con­cen­tra­tion camps short­ly after their lib­er­a­tion as well as the town of Freis­ing, fur­ther to the north­east of Munich (and the camps). While in Freis­ing he had his pho­to tak­en at an inter­sec­tion with signs point­ing to Dachau and Munich. Many years lat­er (around 1980), he and Mom had the oppor­tu­ni­ty to trav­el to Europe and they returned to some­where in the area. There, Mom took a pho­to of him, as though re-enact­ing the pho­to from 1945.

Rabbi Mark Hurvitz

On our trav­els through Europe in 2006 Deb­bie and I spent a few days in Munich. I’d long known of the pho­to­graph and had a copy of it with me. While prepar­ing to search for the inter­sec­tion I saw a sign read­ing “Freis­ing”. This trig­gered a mem­o­ry in me that the pho­to was actu­al­ly tak­en, not in Munich, but Freis­ing, and we set out to find the location.

After repro­duc­ing (updat­ing) Nathan Hurvitz’s pho­to in Freis­ing, we drove on to Dachau.

We wrote at the time:

It does not sur­prise me that the peo­ple of Dachau would want to have a sep­a­rate Wikipedia arti­cle for their town, dis­tinct from the con­cen­tra­tion camp that bears the same name. Yet, the two are so close, and the camp is at the base of the hill on which the old town stands, that it is hard to accept that the res­i­dents of the 1930s-1940s did not know what was hap­pen­ing in their back yard.

At the camp, we we able to attach our­selves to a tour giv­en by (Mac­in­tosh user) Phil Bradley. He gave a very good, thor­ough, intense­ly expressed tour.

Dachau” seems syn­ony­mous with “con­cen­tra­tion camp” the way the “Auschwitz” is syn­ony­mous with “death camp”.

It is a place of intense evil, cal­cu­lat­ed sadism.

I once again expe­ri­enced that cold, chok­ing, that swelled through me at Auschwitz and at Terezin. You might think that I might become inured to it; emo­tion­al­ly calloused.

Can that happen?

Towards the end of the tour we saw a short film that includ­ed footage of the survivors.

Deb­bie men­tioned after­wards that she need­ed to close her eyes, [it was] hard to see the brutality.

I have always felt the need to keep my eyes wide open.

If this is what was done to peo­ple in full view of the per­pe­tra­tors and seen by those first wit­ness­es who cap­tured the scene on cel­lu­loid, I owe it to those, whose images were cap­tured… to look them in the eye and rec­og­nize the human­i­ty that oth­ers attempt­ed to deny them.

Niemöller’s confession

Niemöller is now known pri­mar­i­ly for the poet­ic form of a 1946 post-war confessional:

First they came for the social­ists, and I did not speak out—
     Because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade union­ists, and I did not speak out—
     Because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
     Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left—
     to speak for me.

…there was no one left–
To speak for me

Rhinocerization”

Odd­ly enough, sim­i­lar to the way that “first they came…” has become a short­hand for ref­er­ences to the Niemöller poem, the term “Rhinocer­iza­tion” became a short­hand for ref­er­ences to the Ionesco play in Israel when it was first used in 1962. How­ev­er, it did not become pop­u­lar until Amos Oz used it in 1972 when he used the infini­tive form of the verb: (להתקרנף, lehitkarnef).

Jay report­ed to me that on Jan­u­ary 6, on Israel’s Chan­nel 12 news, Dana Weiss inter­viewed Aharon Barak, Chief Jus­tice of Israel’s Supreme Court from 1995 to 2006. Barak made it clear that the cur­rent gov­ern­ment rep­re­sents a seri­ous dan­ger to Israeli democ­ra­cy. The sto­ry was also picked up and pub­lished in the Eng­lish lan­guage The Times of Israel. At the end of the inter­view, Barak para­phrased the clas­sic Niemöller quote:

אל תהיו באותו מצב שכשאמרו שהורגים את הקומוניסטים הוא אמר ‘מה זה אכפת לי? אני לא קומוניסט’. ואחר כך, כשהורגים את הליברלים הוא אמר ‘מה אכפת לי מליברל?’ ובסוף הוא אומר ‘כן, אבל הורגים את משפחתי’ ואז לא היה לו למי לפנות. זה מה שעשוי לקרות. והזעקה שלי… את פתחת את השיחה בינינו ‘אז למה אתה מדבר עכשיו?’ אני רוצה למנוע. אני רוצה להיות ישר עם עצמי ולהיות משוכנע שאני עושה כל מה שאני יכול לעשות”.

Don’t be in the same sit­u­a­tion that when they said they were killing the com­mu­nists he said ‘What do I care? I’m not a com­mu­nist’. And then, when the lib­er­als were being killed, he said, ‘What do I care about a lib­er­al?’ And at the end he says ‘yes, but they are killing my fam­i­ly’ and then he had no one to turn to. This is what might hap­pen. And my cry… you start­ed the con­ver­sa­tion between us ‘so why are you talk­ing now?’ I want to pre­vent I want to be hon­est with myself and be con­vinced that I’m doing every­thing I can do.”

Dana Weiss inter­views Aharon Barak on Israel’s Chan­nel 12 news (Jan­u­ary 6, 2023)

the buttons

Who would wear either of these but­tons? I’ve nev­er seen any­one do so.

Martin Niemöller quote on Nazi pink triangle
Date:cir­ca 1986
Size:4.4 tri­an­gle
Pin Form:clasp
Print Method:cel­lu­loid
Text:“First they came for the Jews and I did not speak
out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came
for the com­mu­nists and I did not speak out—
because I was not a com­mu­nist. Then
they came for the trade union­ists and
I did not speak out—because I
was not a trade union­ist. Then
they come for me—and
there was no one left to
speak out for me.”
—Pas­tor Mar­tin
Niemoller
(vic­tim of
Nazis)
Martin Niemöller quote
Date: 2019
Size:4 x 4
Pin Form:clasp
Print Method:cel­lu­loid
Text:IN GERMANY THEY FIRST CAME FOR
THE COMMUNISTS AND I DIDN’T
SPEAK UP BECAUSE I WASN’T A
COMMUNISTTHEN THEY CAME FOR
THE JEWS AND I DIDN’T SPEAK UP
BECAUSE I WASN’T A JEWTHEN
THEY CAME FOR THE TRADE
UNIONISTS AND ID DIDN’T SPEAK
UP BECAUSE I WASN’T A TRADE
UNIONISTTHEN THEY CAME FOR
THE CATHOLICS AND I DIDN’T SPEAK
UP BECAUSE I WAS A PROTESTANT.
THEN THEY CAME FOR ME AND BY
THAT TIME NO ONE WAS LEFT TO
SPEAK UP. ‑Pas­tor Mar­tin Neimoller

your lapel buttons

Many peo­ple have lapel but­tons. They may be attached to a favorite hat or jack­et you no longer wear or poked into a cork­board on your wall. If you have any lying around that you do not feel emo­tion­al­ly attached to, please let me know. I pre­serve these for the Jew­ish peo­ple. At some point, they will all go to an appro­pri­ate muse­um. You can see many all the but­tons shared to date.

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