(cross-posted at DailyKos)

How a boy became my hero, and other stories from Israel/Palestine
I write as a Jewish American.
...but no, really, I write as myself. There's nothing that grates more than: "how do Jewish people feel about...?", because how the heck do I know, I'm not a spokesperson for the Jewish people, only for myself. On the other hand, the accepted narrative says that Jewish folks in America are so blinded by love for their country in the Middle East that they refuse to admit to any wrongdoing by its government, and are ready to cry "anti-Semitism" if anyone dares criticize.The truth is much more complicated, and I'd like to be a spokesperson for that.

What I write is only a small personal story, my own long-distance experience of the situation in Israel/Palestine. This diary contains no great truths or solutions. It does contain links to some people and organizations that really do have something important to say, and I hope that these links will spur anyone interested to learn more about Israel's active peace movement. I believe that it is critical to promote these voices because, if you read/watch/listen to our MSM, you wouldn't think they existed.

I'm an Israeli-American, which means I have dual citizenship, but I am more American, having lived here for 36 of my 42 years.My parents left Israel in 1974 and I (being 8) left with them, though I wasn't happy about it. Each summer until I was grown, I went back and stayed with my aunt and her (eventually) six children, my cousins, with whom I was very close, this despite the fact that their family was Orthodox, while mine was as secular as you can get.

How a boy became my hero
I must have been 14 the summer my girl cousins (who were my age and my best friends) refused to join me at the "mixed" pool, so as not to show their bodies to men. Which is the only reason I was at the Jerusalem Hilton Hotel pool with my 10-year-old boy cousin, Haim. As we dressed to leave the pool, I was still blown away that the little kid I'd never much noticed had gone along with my "let's sneak in without paying" scheme as though he did that kind of thing all the time. I threw a skirt and tank top over my swimsuit, and Haim put on shorts and a t-shirt, using his left hand to do the work that his right, injured at birth, could not do. I noticed, but did not comment, on the fact that he did not replace the yarmulke he had taken off to swim.

I had a sudden thought, which I remember as clearly today as if I were still sitting on that plastic pool chair on that hot, dusty Jerusalem afternoon. The thought was: "He's going to be my favorite, forever. And he's going to be a rebel--and no way religious." Haim thinks this is a funny story, because he remembers the pool but does not remember the yarmulke incident (which ends badly, when his teacher from the ultra-religious private school he attends happens to board the bus and catches his bare head sitting next to an immodestly dressed 14-year-old girl, and he reaches that left hand into his shorts pocket fast as lightning and throws the yarmulke on). He did not, himself, know he was going to end up living a secular life, or rebel in a truly meaningful way, until many years later.

When he gave up the yarmulke for good, he was serving as a tank commander in the Israeli Defense Force (IDF). Because of the arm, the military did not want to put him into combat when he was drafted. But the kid, a proud Israeli boy raised on the tradition of service and self-defense, wanted to serve where it counted. He wanted to protect his country. He fought the beauracracy, and hard, for his right to do so. He won. I was vaguely aware of his life, but at that time I was busy living a hellacious first marriage and sometimes following the Grateful Dead, and Israel and my cousins were far away.

Haim served during the (first) Intifada, and by our next meeting, he was not a boy at all, but a 26-year-old man, and I was a jaded but much happier divorced woman (Garcia had just died, so that part of my life was over as well).Over drinks, cigarettes, and calamari (in a Jerusalem bar! On Shabbat! How times change!), he told me about his service and about the Intifada. My body warmed by glasses of red wine, I felt my heart fill with pride and love for him as he talked about the growing peace movement. He was so passionate and optimistic. He told me the Intifada was like Israel's Viet Nam, that it had taught the country that occupation would not work, that the youth peace movement would make all the difference. He had already refused to serve his twice-yearly reserve duty in the territories, refused to shoot rubber bullets at children. At that time, his refusal was by personal request: He asked his commanders, and they assigned him elsewhere. I remember that Jerusalem night brightly, too, his steady arm around me as we walked home through ancient streets, I remember thinking: "I was right about him, all those years ago!"

And then I went back to my life and he to his. The Oslo accords happened, and peace did not come. I saw Haim twice in the interim, he came all the way to Alabama for my second wedding, and then he let my husband and me stay at his place on our honeymoon in Israel. In 2000, the second Intifada began. Haim called me long-distance during my complicated pregnancy and when my second child, a newborn girl, died. And then, a year or so later, he called me again. He needed a favor.

Israeli voices for peace
The situation in the territories had deteriorated further, enough that a group of 50 IDF reservists and combat soldiers had written  The Combatant's Letter, which stated, in part, that they would henceforth "not continue to fight this War of the Settlements...not continue to fight beyond the 1967 borders in order to dominate, expel, starve and humiliate an entire people...continue serving the Israel Defense Force in any mission that serves Israel’s defense...The missions of occupation and oppression do not serve this purpose – and we shall take no part in them.

"Haim had signed the letter and became active in the group. He told me that out of respect for his commanding officer and his men, he had written his own letter to explain his actions. He needed my help in translating the letter--detailing his perspective on a soldier's refusal to obey 'clearly illegal' orders--into English so he could submit it to the UK's Guardian newspaper. I quickly learned that speaking two languages does not make you a translator, getting the words right, along with the tone and intent, took almost a week, as well as help from my father and extensive use of the Hebrew-English dictionary. I was humbled to help him, he had put his livelihood and his freedom on the line to do what was right, all I had to give was a few words. So I did it, and over the years contributed to the "refuseniks," as they came to be called, whenever I could (through an amazing organization called  The Refuser Solidarity Network. (The translated letter was published and is still available on the Internet at Common Dreams).

My small contributions, however, are insignificant compared to the sacrifices these soldiers have made. They risk prison, ostracism, violence. My cousin had truly become not just my "favorite" but my hero. In response to his protest, the IDF just stopped calling him for reserve duty. And he remains, though a professor, husband, and father of three, active in the peace movement, including a newer organization called "Combatants for Peace.

Combatants for Peace is "a group of Israeli and Palestinian individuals who were actively involved in the cycle of violence in our area. The Israelis served as combat soldiers in the Israel Defense Forces and the Palestinians were involved in acts of violence in the name of Palestinian liberation..."The group lists the following principles: "(1) We no longer believe that the conflict can be resolved through violence. (2) We believe that the blood bath will not end unless we act together to terminate the occupation and stop all forms of violence. (3) We call for the establishment of a Palestinian State, alongside the State of Israel. The two states can exist in peace and security one by the other. (4) We will use only non violent means to achieve our goals and call for both societies to end violence." They are all true heroes.

Jewish-American voices for peace
Just as the MSM ensures we are not made aware that a solid percentage of Israelis oppose the occupation (either actively or in principle), it also extends its silent treatment toward Jewish-American voices for peace. In both our media and their own, Israelis hear the loudest American voices, those of the right, while the voices for peace are stifled.  The current issue of The Sun Magazine features an interview with acclaimed Israeli novelist David Grossman, who lost his own soldier-son to the endless war and spoke about it  at the memorial for slain Israeli Prime Minister Itzhak Rabin in 2006. In the Sun interview, Grossman said that "it is important that Jewish Americans who oppose the occupation communicate their point of view here, because we mainly hear from the right-wingers, who are much more vocal and sure of themselves...If they are silent, if they do not make their opinions heard here, Israel will believe that all Jewish Americans support Israel’s occupation of Palestine...If U.S. Jews...allow only the right-wingers in American Jewry to express their opinions, they actually support the deterioration of Israel."

Let's be honest here, Jewish-American voices for peace are stifled even among the more progressive among us, for fear that speaking out against the Israeli government is speaking out against ourselves. It's not.

If it is OK for Israelis themselves to question, to respond, to fight back, surely it is our duty as their American "cousins" to do the same, to speak up for what is right, to insist that we redefine our heritage-- and "our" country--as a place of peace and justice.I don't have much money to contribute, I am not in Israel to lend my body to the fight. It may not be worth much, but once again all I have is words. In order to make our voices heard--to speak out for justice and peace and in support of the real heroes, Israeli and Palestinian, who despite all odds, are working for peace--I am compiling an anthology of personal essays called Jewish-American Voices for Peace. I have several incredible, heart-rending, fact-laden, thought-provoking pieces already, from both well-known and emerging progressive American writers. I am hoping to collect another 10 or so. If you are a writer, or know someone who might want to contribute to the book, please forward this URL: http://wakenowdiscover.weebly.com/.... You can also email me at submit2wakenowdiscover at gmail.com.