Icebergs and Hate


The tips of icebergs are notoriously dangerous: the old saying posits that nine-tenths of the iceberg is under the water. This larger invisible ice stabilises the whole ice structure. Ignoring them is a dangerous choice.

In the past few days politicians have been bandying about the phrase ‘Islamic terror hatred’. They state that preventing such hatred may prevent further shootings. The Government are proclaiming victory. Their new law will make Australian Jews safer.

That may be true – as far as it goes. There is a great deal going on ‘under’ the tip of the iceberg: the psychotic killers who use Islamic language to justify their criminal actions are only the visible iceberg. Laws condemning such statements should have some effect. Reducing the number of guns in the community may also reduce opportunities for killers to act.

These psychotic killers are buoyed by hate groups. Neo-Nazis spout hatred of Jews. I note that they are not Islamic terrorists, but nasty just the same. ISIS may not be an identifiable group in Australia, but its hate speech empowered the killers at Bondi. These militant groups may not be killers, but they give permission to the few who are.

But drill down further into the iceberg, into the Australian community. Politicians, community leaders and religious leaders, myself included, have not been strong enough, persistent enough and clear enough in our condemnation of these hate groups.

As a Christian priest, my clear task is to promote the truth that every person, regardless of race, religion, ethnic background, is made in God’s image, beloved by God, and therefore worthy of respect. God loves each person and weeps over every instance of discrimination and hatred. God doesn’t tolerate it.

Other faith and community leaders may express these values differently. Even these differences are wonderful and to be welcomed.  

Our lack of leadership gives permission to the hate groups. We need to own the fact that our condemnation of them has not been strong enough.

And of course, leaders can be strong in promoting community harmony only if the community itself encourages us leaders to speak out against hate and for respect.

As we drill down even further, into the general community, we should examine ourselves: are we harbouring discrimination in our hearts? Are we tainted by not accepting difference ourselves? These are uncomfortable questions, and lead to other questions even more discomforting: do we call out casual racism when we hear it? Do we show acceptance to those of different skin colour or strange religions (strange to us)?

My assessment is that we participate in a society that fails to live up to its values of acceptance and compassion. I cringe when I recognise the sting of the discriminatory attitudes I grew up and I catch myself flinching from different skin colour or distinct dress.

We are a racist mob. And for as long as we don’t challenge it, we let our leaders off the hook. They, in turn, avoid difficult conversation. They fail to condemn. They, in turn, give power to the rhetoric of the hate groups, who, in their turn, give cover to those who would use their rhetoric to kill.

One law won’t stop ‘Islamic terror hatred’ or anti-Muslim diatribes. There’s a rottenness running through our whole society. Of course, not every individual is a racist, but too often I find myself willing, by inaction, to participate in it.

As well as laws against hate speech, we need education for harmony. That is a huge task to get on with, but it is a possible remedy to the danger of the iceberg. The choice to do nothing through every part of the community is the choice to run into more horror like that on the beach at Bondi.

Pyramid courtesy Northern Ireland Mediation

Racism is not a new problem, but all the more reason to tackle it.

The dangerous badge


The badge has arrived in the mail. Although the package was quite small it may provoke savage reactions and will certainly be misunderstood.

Years ago, I was much more politically active and wore badges to signal my involvement in different causes. I have kept a cloth bag of badges made with those old, primitive badge-makers. I shake them out onto the table, and I see now I supported the Campaign Against Racial Exploitation, Amnesty International, the Wilderness Society and all the predictable leftist crusades.

But this new badge is partly to protest the media who have so manipulated our sympathy that we lose our wider view and demonise a whole group of society.

The badge is a blue star of David on a white background. I will be wearing Israel’s colours, Israel’s symbol.

But why?

It may seem perverse, then, to wear a badge proclaiming. עם ישראל חי” (om Israel chai – let Israel live): how could I show support for a nation set on the annihilation of another?

The media encourage us to make a moral calculation: on October 7th in 2023, 1,200 Israeli citizens were killed and 240 were abducted by Hamas. In defending their country, Israelis killed 1,500 Palestinian terrorists. We want to cry out, ‘Isn’t that enough killing? Isn’t an additional 40,000 Palestinian deaths and flattening of homes overkill?’

Possibly like you, I also wonder whether razing Gaza is a precursor, as President Trump advocates, for wholesale dispossession. ‘Take them somewhere nice,’ he says with a blasé smile, their fate evidently irrelevant to him.

Like you, I have long been aghast at Israel’s harassing Palestinians and clearing them from the West Bank, and the current intensification of the IDF’s activity in the refugee camps where, apparently, terrorists peek out from under every Palestinian bed.

But consider Israel. I see a nation lashing out in fear. Many Israelis are children and grandchildren of the Holocaust. They are terrified that they will again be wiped out. They feel abandoned by the Western nations that created the State of Israel 76 years ago.  Their only friend seems to be the US, and that friendship under President Trump now seems brittle too.

For me, that cannot justify Israel’s behaviour in Gaza. But it goes a long way to explain it. And we have rarely seen that mortal dread expressed in the media. So I support Israel as it recoils from violence done to it. It is scared for its life.

Secondly, there is the agony of the hostages; their own agony, but also the agony of their loved ones and fellow citizens. They’ve ached for them to be returned. They’ve raged against their Government for continually prioritising the military response over bringing the hostages home. I stand with all the hostage families. They’re Israelis.

Thirdly, Israel’s Central Bureau of Statistics counts over 2 million Arab citizens. One Israeli citizen in every five is Arab or Palestinian. At least one Arab is a member of the Knesset, Israel’s parliament. These Israelis are harassed, interrogated and imprisoned if they speak a word against Israel’s actions in Gaza. But they’re Israelis.

Lastly, not all Israelis approve of their Prime Minister. They see his political calculus. He wants to cling to power. He needs to stay in power to forestall criminal proceedings against him. Ordinary Israelis feel the whole gamut of reactions to Netanyahu, from approval to active support, but also from disappointment to feeling betrayed by him. I stand with the critics of the Israeli government.

I like Jewish culture. At its best Judaism is a powerful moral and intellectual force in the world. I like the whole gamut of Jewish ritual from the blast of the shofar to Sabbath meals. It’s no accident that Jews are over-represented in fields as diverse as medicine and music. Judaism was the cradle of Christianity.

Judaism produced the extraordinary collection of books we call the Old Testament. The Jewish Scriptures contain amazing poetry, stunning philosophy and intriguing theology.  I have invested years learning Hebrew and studying the pages of these fascinating books from Genesis to Malachi.

I stand with the Jews’ legacy as builders of an ethical and aesthetic civilisation.

I look into my heart. In the end, I cannot but wear the blue and white badge even it offends random observers. I cannot but stand with Israel.

Hope for Palestinians


 

Michelle Cohen Corasanti, The Almond Tree, Reading, UK: Garnet Publishing

Paperback from $AUD 11.22 (online) or Kindle E-book: $US 3.49

Reviewed by Ted Witham

I wept frequently while reading this outstanding first novel.

The Almond Tree tells the story of Ichmad Hamid, a gifted Palestinian boy whose family home is destroyed to make way for Jewish settlers. They lose their orchard and, after some years in a tent, are able to build a one-room cement-block house on the tiny patch of land the Israelis leave for them. Ichmad’s beloved Baba is sent to prison for 14 years after 12-year-old Ichmad helps radicals bury weapons in their backyard.  Their small home and all its possessions are again destroyed by Israeli soldiers.

In his father’s absence, Ichmad takes on the role of provider for his family, working on Israeli settler construction sites for far less wages than the suspicious Iraqis and Russians who work with him. Following his father’s advice Ichmad tries to choose always the way of peace, and despite endless provocations, not to return hatred for hatred.

Teacher Mohammad offers to tutor the gifted boy every evening after work. Ichmad wins a scholarship in Maths and Physics to Hebrew University, and sets out on a stellar academic career. He collaborates with his Professor, a bitter Jew whose family was murdered in Auschwitz. Eventually the two become close friends and win the Nobel Prize jointly for their work on nanotechnology.

Ichmad continues to support his family on his Professor’s wage at Harvard, and maintains close contact with his village. He identifies with their life-giving almond tree with its roots deep in Palestinian soil. At every turn in his story  he encounters tragedy, much of it caused by the brutality of Israeli occupation, and Ichmad’s desire to choose peace almost always – eventually – turns the tragedies into something deeper and positive for his people and his family.

This is a powerful first novel by a courageous Jewish-American woman. I did not need to be persuaded that the occupation of Palestine is anything but a disaster for the Palestinians. It would be wonderful if this novel helped others to see the human cost of providing a secure and secular state for the Jewish people. It may just be sufficiently powerful to do so.