It's the time of year when Jews celebrate one of their oldest
festivals, Pesach or Passover. Pesach
commemorates the Jews' escape from bondage in Egypt and their
flight to freedom in the land of Israel. As a nominal Jew, I
have observed Pesach with my family for 35 years. Since
my father's death and my brother's estrangment from Judaism,
and despite my own fall from belief in organized religion, I
have been called upon to serve as the leader at my family's
Seder, the traditional festive meal of Pesach.
The rituals of the Seder are set forth in the
Haggadah, which tells the story of Pesach and
the exodus from Egypt through stories, songs, and readings
from the five books of Moses and various learned men from the
centuries of Jewish knowledge. My family has, as long as I can
remember, used a set of Haggadot published by Manischewitz, makers
of many Jewish foods and other products. These books are
showing their age lately, but I still like them because the
dog-eared copy from which I lead contains my father's copious
marginalia to help me know which parts to skip over, which
parts to read aloud, and which parts to ask guests to read
around the table.
This year, however, my mother borrowed a set of
Haggadot from a friend of hers. This set was simpler,
explained it better for the non-Jews at our table, and would
make for a more enjoyable experience for all concerned.
Except for one thing: even more than the older set, this text
makes clear the hypocrisy of Zionism.
Even as we sat at our comfortable table, stuffing ourselves
with matzoh ball soup and gefilte fish, a people continue
their struggle to regain their homeland. While we read in the
Haggadah about a 40-year journey through the desert,
from oppression to the land of milk and honey, we ignore
another displaced people who want nothing more than to return
to their homes in Israel, née Palestine. As
we self-righteously tell the story of Moses' exhortations to
Pharoah to "let my people go," we in the United States
continue to fund the murder of Palestinian protesters to the
tune of over
US$5.5 billion per year. As long as the Israeli government
kills rock-throwing Palestinians with helicopters and tanks, I
can not in good conscience tell such a one-sided story.
And the
one-sidedness of the killings is astounding: while
Palestinian civilians and security forces have killed 303
Israeli civilans between December 1987, the beginning of the
Intifadeh, and the end of February 2001, Israeli
security forces alone have killed 1,661 Palestinian civilians
-- 346 of them under the age of 17.
The Jews have a lot to be thankful for on Pesach, to be
sure: that the Jews were freed from slavery in Egypt, that the
Jewish people survived the Holocaust, that there is a Jewish
homeland at all. But there are still oppressed, exiled, and
enslaved people throughout the world, and some of them are
oppressed as a direct result of the establishment of Israel.
What irony, what chutzpah to preach freedom in the
midst of such turmoil!
I'm working on a more progressive Haggadah for next
year, one that I won't be ashamed to read from. I plan to cite
historical and modern struggles for freedom -- and there are
many to choose from, historical and modern. For example,
besides the politically inflammatory Intifadeh, there
are the Indian struggle for independence from British rule;
the Chinese occupation of Tibet and subsequent Tibetan exile;
the East Timorese vote for independence from Indonesia; and
our own issues with civil rights and slavery reparations.
Of course, there's a lot of good in the traditional
Haggadah; but a dose of reality is sorely needed.
Citations and reading suggestions from our readers would be
most welcome.