My story takes me to my birthplace, Tel Aviv, and the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feels of Israel as a little boy. The grandson of Etzel fighters on both sides, as well as a grandmother who survived the Holocaust, my childhood was rich in images of British Mandate Palestine, Arab-Jewish upheavals, and harsh poverty amidst the movement to establish a Jewish State.

I felt a deep connection with my grandparents, and their stories. The messages in these stories were many, though they had one consistent theme: “We survived, and triumphed.” Behind these narratives, I felt sadness too. A sense that the original dream had not come to full fruition, and that Israel had become just like every other nation, flawed and easily corruptible.

I was four years old when my family moved from Israel to Toronto. However, Israel came with us in many ways. Israeli flags would decorate our Thornhill home. Backyard radio cables would pick up Israeli broadcasts half the world away (before the internet), and my parents only spoke Hebrew in the house. A strong sense of pride was always present wherever Israel was concerned. The focus was always on celebrating Israeli culture and society, not so much on politics or government.

Like my parents, I too never carried an explicit political agenda beyond glorifying Israel. Instinctively, though, I never bought into the “Arabs just want to kill us” arguments. I always knew there must be more to it than that. Maybe it was the fear I detected as relatives would go on about “those Arabs.”

As a young adult, I cheered on the Oslo Peace Process like an entertained soccer fan, rooting for the desired outcome of peace and sanity. I did not see this as political, but more like a dream I wanted to come alive. I watched Oslo crumble, at its finale the election of Ariel Sharon, the rise of the second intifada, and the polarization of viewpoints on all sides of the political spectrum. I knew the status quo calling for renewed violence was flawed and dangerous, whether through Israeli aggression, or Palestinian terror attacks. Where did I fit in these turbulent times?

I felt compelled to take a stand for peace and justice for the first time in my life. I joined several Jewish-led peace groups, and went over to Israel and the Occupied Territories twice, interning with The Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions in Jerusalem, and working with the Palestinian ISM group in the West Bank.

For all of my social justice work, I never felt totally relaxed or comfortable in many leftwing circles. Israel was often demonized as a colonialist extension of the United States, and Zionism was simplistically equated with racism—case closed. It was only in one group, Tikkun Toronto, that I felt a genuine compassion and understanding for the Israeli side, while critiquing the Occupation and inherent racism in Israeli society.

It has been over five years since I began my journey looking for a new way to bring Israelis, Palestinians, Jews and Arabs together for dialogue and peace building. This journey has taken me to engage with all sorts of people, on all sides of the political spectrum, and to spend over seven months living in both Israel and Palestine in recent times.

I now find myself writing articles for a very mainstream Israeli newspaper in Toronto whose views I find myself at odds with quite a lot. Still, I have faith that no matter the difference in political views, most of us ultimately want the same things. We want a safe and secure Jewish homeland. We want peace and justice with and for Arab peoples. We want to be able to visit Palestine without any fear, just like we want Palestinians to feel comfortable in Israel.

I share my story with you because I know you have stories of your own. No matter how similar or different our stories may be, it is only through story that we can really listen to one another.

 
Postscript: Israel—A Broader View
 
It has become even more fashionable to critique and/or glorify Israel in recent years. Indeed, Israel’s history and modernity as a nation is steeped in a mixture worthy of critique on the one hand, and bold accomplishment on the other.
 
As a Jewish Israeli Canadian, I have taken it upon myself to defend Israel when She is being unfairly attacked, and criticize Her domestic and foreign policies when She continues to resort to violence and collective punishment.
 
I have just come back from a two-week journey in the heart of Turkey and Israel, exploring Muslim and Sufi culture in Istanbul and Konya, and visiting relatives in Tel Aviv. I am no stranger to Israel, having been born and partly raised there, visiting for extended stays throughout my life.
 
As a tourist in Turkey, I was sipping a cold beverage in an Istanbul restaurant when my waiter engaged me in conversation and asked where I was from. When I shared my heritage as an Israeli, he quickly flew into a rant about how “Turks hate Israel” (far from unanimous in my experience), and how Zionism was evil and destructive.
 
In my travels around the world and here in Canada, I have noticed many people ranting about Israel’s dirty underbelly more and more in recent years. It seems to reach almost epidemic proportions in some instances. On the flip side, I have encountered my share of “Christian Zionists” and right wing demagogues who spout about Israel’s “specialness” and elevated status, in much of the obsessed and awkward way as their anti-Israel counterparts.
 
In a world where ethnic violence, war, and oppression are everywhere, it is very strange indeed that Israel is given so much attention—both negative and positive—with such one-dimensionality. Knowing my own tendency to gravitate towards the political, I decided to let go of my inclinations on this recent trip to Israel and ease into the experience. I discovered an entire world of cultural and societal beauty I had never tasted.
 
A world of thick sensuality, vibrancy, and unrestricted pleasure in the nightclubs and establishments of Tel Aviv. A world of generosity and warmth in the hearts and spirits of Israelis (both Jewish and Arab citizens), who opened up to the realities of daily life and were gracious in their hosting of me. An aesthetic beauty of sea culture that included a relaxed pace to life and “vivre le present” mentality.
 
In our critique or exaltation of Israel, we must remember first and foremost that Israel is a country like any other–with its own unique problems and achievements, like any other. To hold Israel to higher or lower standards than any other country is to truly be hypocritical, and dare I say it, may have its roots in anti-Semitism. In boldly criticizing or praising Israel, we need to look at the whole equation, and understand we are living in a world where Israel is generally picked on way too much by the Left (at the expense of other important world issues), and strangely glorified beyond exaltation by the Right. A proper reality check is way overdue for many of us invested with our hearts and spirits on this issue.