2 minute read
Matan Berman
He/him
"I keep using the word Zionist to describe myself. But saying "a left-wing person with love for Israel" is a better way to put it right now. My journey towards this understanding began during my year in Israel between high school and college. It was a transformative time, and my experiences shaped my perspective.
Within my first month in Israel, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, arrived. I vividly remember attending synagogue for Kol Nidrei, the evening service. Unexpectedly, they asked for money; it was the first time I associated money with this sacred occasion. Feeling disconnected from the experience, my friends and I decided to gather on our rooftop instead. We played five songs that held deep personal meaning for us, and in that moment, I felt a connection that surpassed any formal prayers. Since then, I've made it a tradition to commemorate Yom Kippur in this way every year.
Living in Israel was undeniably a political experience for me. While I developed a profound love for the country, I also had to confront the idealized image of Israel portrayed to me in my early years. Teachers had always emphasized that Israel could do no wrong. However, living there during the second election cycle and being exposed to the reality of the West Bank, particularly Hebron, shattered that illusion.
During a conflict seminar, we visited a Palestinian activist named Omar and a settler's house. The settlers regarded Omar as if he were the devil, yet his message was far from that. Instead, he sought fundamental rights, such as walking without fear in his neighborhood. The soldiers who were present merely observed as citizens harassed him. Hearing his story opened my eyes. I questioned why we weren't hearing moderate voices in Hebron, and the response was disheartening: there were none. Walking through the town, I saw the stark contrast between the barren Palestinian areas and the thriving settlements. It was evident that something had existed there before, but now it lay in ruins. These experiences and encounters with differing narratives left me grappling with my own Zionism. As someone from a Zionist background, I couldn't imagine living in Israel today.
In my studies, I delved into the concept of the Jewish diaspora and its intrinsic connection to Judaism. I explored how the Israeli government constructed a narrative where criticism of Israel equated to anti-Jewish or anti-Zionist. This rigid definition didn't align with the diverse spectrum of ideas that Zionism originally encompassed, such as the importance of diversity within the Jewish experience. I struggle to reconcile my left-wing beliefs and love for Israel with my pro-Palestinian stance. I firmly believe that these aspects are not inherently conflicting. Ultimately, this struggle is about fighting for the Jewish people.
So, reflecting on my Jewish upbringing in Atlanta, Georgia, attending a conservative Jewish Day School, and participating in Jewish camps and bilingual schools, I now realize that my experiences have led me to question and reevaluate my identity. I no longer connect with Conservative Judaism, but I'm open to exploring other sects, perhaps even Reconstructionist Judaism, which aligns more closely with my evolving beliefs."