I was invited by Rabbi Michael Lerner to share any feelings or thoughts I might have regarding the sixtieth anniversary of the State of Israel.

I acknowledge the daunting challenges being faced. I hope to someday see a two state solution with the borders returned to where they were before 1967, power sharing, water and other vital resource sharing, total renunciation of terrorism on both sides, etc. I would love to have an American commander-in-chief who could see beyond Israel’s geopolitical usefulness to more universal issues of human decency and dignity. I would also really welcome the wide-scale emergence of progressive Jewish voices to counterbalance the influence wielded by an all-powerful Zionist lobby.

From time to time I’ve been referred to as not unlike a “nice Jewish boy,” which I take as a compliment. But to actually be a Jew of African descent is quite another thing. In 1 Kings 10:1, the Hebrew Scriptures chronicle a visit to King Solomon by the Queen of Sheba. According to the 700-plus year old text Kebra Negast (Glory of the Kings) the Queen (Makeda) bears the king’s son on the journey home; he is named Menelik. Menelik travels to Jerusalem at twenty-two seeking his father’s blessings and an education in his court. He is named ruler of Ethiopia and returns with the Ark of the Covenant.

From this Solomonic lineage emerge the Beta Israel, the Ethiopian Jews. As Christianity and then Islam spread across Ethiopia the “falashas” (Amharic for “exile” or “stranger”) encountered tremendous resistance. Relegated to the mountain highlands in the Eastern Province of Gandar, they fought for autonomy as long as they could before succumbing to Ethiopian columns backed by the Portuguese in 1624. The last stand of the Beta Israel has been likened to the final assault on Masada. Between the 17th and 18th centuries, sporadic accounts of the community were rendered by European explorers and diplomats. Then they faded into a wider background of civil strife until round about the mid 1950s, when regular relations were established between Ethiopia and the State of Israel.

Official acknowledgment of the Ethiopian Jews was granted by Menachem Begin in 1975 and, under the Law of Return established in 1950, an effort was launched to repatriate a small group of them in Israel. Ethiopia outlawed the teaching and practice of Judaism in the early 1980s and in 1984 “Operation Moses” raised the repatriation to a full scale exodus. A mass emigration took place again in 1991 and in early 2004 a push to relocate the remaining 18,000 of the Falasha Mura in the Middle East was reported by the Israeli Foreign Ministry.

As an African American, I applaud and respect the State of Israel’s commitment to embrace all the people of their Diaspora, especially this beleaguered, remarkable tribe. But the spotty accounts of subsequent efforts to integrate them—to provide services, opportunities, avenues for redress, expression—suggest that the process is uneven and fraught with unforeseen challenges and consequences. I would be interested to know what feelings Jewish progressives have, if any, on the status of their darker kin in Israel.

The Jewish historical narrative has, at crucial points, lent itself to a sort of innate understanding of the struggles of African descended peoples.

Why is the relationship so convoluted today?

The context of the respective struggles is my answer. I think, generally speaking, Jews contend with unjust stereotypes of being monolithic, diabolically clever and secretive. Africans contend with unjust stereotypes of being intellectually and culturally inferior, without any history worth mentioning, even subhuman. When I look at the unprecedented carnage occurring on the streets of Oakland, I see nihilism borne of deeply entrenched (real or perceived) lack of agency, wounded self-esteem, an inability to see life as sacred. It is reflected, conditioned and exaggerated by what is called contemporary Rap music. Young Ethiopian Jews wear baggy pants and dreadlocks, idolize Tupac Shakur and Notorious BIG, and rap in broken Hebrew and English about isolation, identity and liberation.

There is much to be gained in an honest appraisal of, and dialogue about, divisions that have strained the consequential unity that once existed between peoples of the Jewish and African Diasporas.