The horrific murder of a Palestinian teenager in Israel last week has shaken those of us who care about peace to the core. Not only was the crime itself utterly barbaric, inhuman and a violation of all the principles that democratic nations such as Israel hold dear, it was also a clear attempt to subvert any current attempts at peace. Just as I wrote when the three israeli teenagers were kidnapped and murdered by terrorists, this death is not only a profound tragedy for the family and friends of this young man, but a terrible blow to any prospects of coexistence in the near future. As Prime Minister Netanyahu has said, whomever is found to be responsible for this heinous crime not only needs to be caught and prosecuted, but they have no place in Israeli society.
As others have pointed out, when the Israeli teenagers were kidnapped (and murdered) no such statements were made by Palestinian leaders. In fact, the Palestinian general public celebrated the abduction of the three Israeli teens. Now there are 4 dead teenagers, murdered simply, it would seem, not because of anything they did, but because of who they were. Because they happened to be Jewish or Arab, in the wrong place at the wrong time.
This is not the first time, and sadly, it is unlikely to be the last. As I write this, rockets continue to rain down on Israel, threatening the lives of Israeli civilians, and rioting has caused damage and injury in eastern Jerusalem and in Israel's north. Whether or not one agrees with everything that Israel does to protect itself, it an indisputable fact that Israeli leaders have moved swiftly and forcefully to find and capture the killers of Muhammad Abu Khdeir, and to denounce whomever is responsible. This stands in stark contrast to Palestinian leaders who seem unable or unwilling (or both) when it comes to exercising moral leadership or significant influence in calming tensions.
I am under no illusion that Hamas will do anything even remotely helpful in this situation, but the Palestinian Authority would do well to look the example set by the bereaved families and their supporters, both Israeli and Palestinian. Despite the intense pain of their loss, they have called for calm instead of bloodshed, they have reached out to offer their condolences and words of comfort, across the great divide that separates so many Israelis and Palestinians. If Israeli leaders can do it, if regular Israeli citizens and Palestinians can do it, then I think the time has come for the world to turn to the PA and ask why it cannot do the same.
Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2014.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
A sad ending, with little hope in sight
Shortly after three Israeli teenagers were kidnapped by terrorists in the West Bank I wrote a blog post about how this act was not only a personal tragedy for the families involved, but likely to further damage (if such a thing is possible) any prospects of a real peace deal between Israel and the Palestinians. Despite hope that they would be found alive and well, tragically, the three young men were found murdered, probably shot very soon after their abduction.
This senseless act of brutality is already fueling unrest and violence in Israel, with riots breaking out in in Eastern Jerusalem following the discovery of a murdered Palestinian teenager and many Arab residents blaming Israel for his death. As of this writing it's not clear if there is any connection between this death and the murder of the three Israeli teens, but it would clearly be in the best interest of everyone involved, from the families of these murdered children, to the Palestinian Authority and the government of Israel, to catch those responsible as swiftly as possible.
I think even by the standards of the region and recent history that things are at a low point right now, and I'm not the only one. In an article on the Foreign Policy website, author and former diplomat Aaron David Miller writes:
"As for the impact of the murders on the formal peace process, the question has been pretty conclusively answered: The notion that violence and terror could provide a clarifying moment and lead to a breakthrough is as illusory as using a prayer summit to produce a two-state solution. Netanyahu's recent statements after the murders, hardening Israeli security requirements in the Jordan Valley, strongly suggest that this process is closed for the season."
Miller's assessment is not optimistic, but I believe it is realistic. The chance of any major breakthrough or even movement when it comes the peace process feel very far away, and with political turmoil and ideological violence on the rise across the Middle East, there are any number of other regional conflicts that could easily force Israel to turn its attention to more pressing issues. The advance of ISIL and the possibility that the group could cause problems on Israel's doorstep in Jordan, and spillover from the Syrian Civil War in the north, are just two examples of threats that may end up drawing Israeli attention and resources away from peace talks with the Palestinians. And these are just two threats we can identify today- unfortunately we have no way of knowing what tomorrow may bring.
Miller's assessment is not optimistic, but I believe it is realistic. The chance of any major breakthrough or even movement when it comes the peace process feel very far away, and with political turmoil and ideological violence on the rise across the Middle East, there are any number of other regional conflicts that could easily force Israel to turn its attention to more pressing issues. The advance of ISIL and the possibility that the group could cause problems on Israel's doorstep in Jordan, and spillover from the Syrian Civil War in the north, are just two examples of threats that may end up drawing Israeli attention and resources away from peace talks with the Palestinians. And these are just two threats we can identify today- unfortunately we have no way of knowing what tomorrow may bring.
Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2014.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Iran poses challenges (and threats) beyond nuclear weapons
Iran's pursuit of nuclear weapons
has been a problem for some time now, but it has never been the only issue of
concern when it comes to this nation’s conduct in the region and around the
world. Since 1979 the leaders of Iran have pursued an agenda characterized by
violence, disregard for human rights and unbridled support for terrorism, a
fact which should not be ignored, despite recent enthusiasm around a possible deal to slow or halt Iran's nuclear program.
Personally, I would love to see
diplomacy triumph and for Tehran to end its nuclear program. However, this
alone would not represent a complete triumph in terms of neutralizing the
threat Iran poses to peace and stability. Although it would be an important
step in that it would deny Tehran a nuclear trump card which it could use to act aggressively in an
even more overt manner, the regime has had no difficulty supporting terrorist groups such as Hezbollah and harassing US ships up until now without a nuclear
weapon in its back pocket.
If and when a deal is reached, Iran still needs to be held accountable for gross violations of human rights, both past and present, as well as for its role as a state sponsor of terrorism and regional aggressor. In addition to a number of commentators on the region examining the likelihood and potential details of a deal, there are also experts looking at what may happen following an agreement, including Alireza Nader of the Rand Corporation, who recently released a paper entitled "The Days After a Deal With Iran, Continuity and Change in Iranian ForeignPolicy."
If and when a deal is reached, Iran still needs to be held accountable for gross violations of human rights, both past and present, as well as for its role as a state sponsor of terrorism and regional aggressor. In addition to a number of commentators on the region examining the likelihood and potential details of a deal, there are also experts looking at what may happen following an agreement, including Alireza Nader of the Rand Corporation, who recently released a paper entitled "The Days After a Deal With Iran, Continuity and Change in Iranian ForeignPolicy."
This paper is well worth reading,
offering an accessible, erudite analysis of the foreign policy power structure
within the Iranian government and what kind of changes we might see within that
structure following a nuclear deal. In it, Nader looks not only at the
implications for the United States, but also for Iran's regional actions and
relationships, including its long-running low level conflict by proxy with the Saudis.
When it comes to Israel, Nader aptly
notes that:
The Islamic Republic’s opposition toward Israel, especially among Iranian conservatives, is not merely due to a sense of geopolitical competition; rather, it is defined at the most basic level by an ideological and religious hostility toward the Jewish state. Iranian conservatives may tolerate a toning down of rhetoric on Israel, but they are unlikely to change Iran’s policies toward Israel after a final nuclear deal.
Such analysis should serve as a
reminder to those who think that a nuclear deal will end the threat that Iran
poses to Israel. Even without a nuclear weapon, there is no reason to believe
that Iran would not continue its assault, both rhetorical and real, on Israel.
A long track record of anti-Israel, Anti-Semitic speeches at the United Nations
and support for Hezbollah tell us that hatred for the Jewish State seems to be
hard-wired into the ideology of the post- Revolution Iranian regime. Nader also
notes in his paper that in a sense the Iranian leadership needs the United
States as its enemy, and I think the same is true in the case of Israel, which
has long served as a convenient bogeyman for dictators and Islamist
governments in the Middle East that use fear as a chief tool of domestic
internal control. I don't see how a nuclear deal would end this practice within
Iran.
With the exception of Israel and
possibly some of the Gulf States, the Middle East today is perhaps one of the
most unstable and least predictable regions in the world. While there are any
number of major actors involved, from Russia and Syria to Hezbollah and Hamas,
one of the most influential and disruptive has undoubtedly been Iran. Stopping
Tehran from acquiring nuclear weapons through diplomacy would be a significant
step forward, but it would not end the larger threat this country poses to
peace and stability both regionally and globally. To think otherwise would be
naive at best and potentially catastrophic at worst.
Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2014.
Friday, June 27, 2014
The courage to trust, the courage to lead
This week I had the opportunity to spend a couple of days in Washington DC, where I attended the annual presentation of the Lantos Human Rights Prize, a prestigious award given each year to someone who has helped to advance the cause of human rights in a significant way. Previous recipients have included former Secretaries of State Hillary Clinton and Madeline Albright. This year's recipient was the president of Israel, Shimon Peres, and I was delighted to receive an invitation from the Lantos Foundation to attend. The ceremony itself took place in the Cannon House Officer Building on Thursday morning, in a darkened caucus room filled with supporters of human rights from around the world.
Vice President Biden was there to present President Peres with the human rights prize, and in his remarks he offered high praise for the Israeli President, but he also reminisced about his late friend Congressman Tom Lantos, a tireless fighter for human rights and human dignity, and the only Holocaust Survivor ever to serve in the United States Congress. One of the things that really caught my attention in Vice President Biden's remarks was when he marveled at how Congressman Lantos, whom he noted would have been more than justified in living a quiet, private life after what he went through in the Shoah, had chosen instead to build a remarkable career in public service. Later, when President Peres took the stage to accept the award he also remarked on the amazing life that Congressman Lantos had led, saying that he was someone who had somehow seen the darkest side of life, the incarnation of evil in the Nazi regime, and yet was an unerring optimist, always positive and full of energy.
"Some were neighbors," which focuses on the extensive betrayal that many Jews across Eastern Europe suffered at the hands of people they had previously considered friends. The exhibition chronicles, with a startling sense of nearness, the degree to which latent antisemitism was given license and legitimacy as the Nazis spread across the continent. The acts of betrayal ranged from wholesale theft to mass murder. For me, the chance to see all of this laid out in photos and to hear audio and video testimony on the ways in which this break down of civil society had actively aided and abetted the Nazi regime in its inhuman criminal enterprise, was chilling. To think that someone who had lived through not just the horror and fear of the Shoah, but the total tearing apart of the fabric of civil society would want to go on and dedicate their own life to public service, is amazing to contemplate.
In her remarks, Lantos Foundation President Dr. Katrina Lantos Swett also drew a parallel between the breakdown of societies across Europe in the 1930's and 40's and the rise of Nazism. It's a connection that not only Holocaust museums and professionals in the Jewish community or human rights organizations should be paying attention to, but everyone from small-town mayors to presidents and prime ministers, as well as regular citizens everywhere. We should all be keenly aware that we not only have a stake in the health and well-being of civil society, but a role to play in preserving it. I was reminded of that this week by any number of people - Katrina Lantos Swett, Vice President Biden, President Peres - and of course by the faces of Holocaust survivors looking out at me from old photographs in the museum.
Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2014.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Terrorist kidnappings in Israel: A personal tragedy for 3 families, a major setback for peace
In June of 2006, a day before I arrived in Israel to spend the summer, a young Israeli soldier by the name of Gilad Shalit was kidnapped near Gaza and three other soldiers were killed and two kidnapped by Hezbollah on the border with Lebanon. What followed was a war that sent Israelis fleeing the previously peaceful north of the country, and many years of captivity for Shalit, whose plight preoccupied a nation intent on bringing him home. 2006 was also the year that Israel withdrew from Gaza, an action that was supposed to further the cause of peace between Israel and the Palestinians. In the eight years since that turbulent summer Israelis have been the victims of rocket attacks, terrorist acts ranging from a bus bombing in Tel Aviv to knife attacks in the West Bank and reportedly many attempts by terrorists to kidnap Israeli soldiers and civilians.
Five days ago terrorists succeeded again kidnapping Israelis, only this time the victim was not an Israeli soldier, but three teenagers on their way home. The deal which freed Gilad Shalit was not without controversy in Israel since it resulted in the release of terrorists who had blood on their hands. When I lived in Jerusalem in 2009 I actually had a chance to meet and speak with some of the families who had relatives murdered by some of the people Israel was considering releasing at the time, and their pain and suffering was very real. Ultimately the deal was made, and Gilad Shalit came home.
Now Israel, and the world are eagerly watching for any clue as to the whereabouts of Eyal Yifrach, Naftali Frankel and Gil-ad Shaar. This kidnapping is not only a personal tragedy for the families involved and a security threat to the State of Israel, but I would argue, a disaster for the Palestinians. Despite stories about ordinary Palestinian citizens handing out candy and celebrating the kidnappings, I find it hard to believe that there are not some on the Pakestinian side, perhaps among the leadership of the Palestinian Authority, which has no great love for Hamas, who don't realize that this terrorist act will not only lead to more friction with Israeli security forces but could also cause irreparable harm to their stated goal of achieving a viable, independent state of their own. And I'm guessing that these might be the same people in the Palestinian Authority who might now seriously question the decision to form a "unity" government with Hamas, if they ever thought it would would work in the first place.
While the outpouring of support for the three missing teenagers from world leaders sends an important positive message, and Jewish communities around the world are rallying to show support, the fact that there has been no word from the kidnappers is deeply troubling. Israel will surely do whatever it can to bring them home, but those of us who care about peace have a job to do as well.
Just as Gilad Shalit was not forgotten outside of Israel, we have a responsibility to make sure that the plight of these three does not disappear from the minds of world leaders or drop out of the news cycle. The more the world sees this act for what it is - a terrible crime that has victimized three teenagers and their families, a cynical ploy by terrorists to exploit Israel's commitment to protect its citizens and an action that harms, not helps, Palestinian national aspirations - the more we can help to legitimize kidnapping as a political tool. It's the least we can do for the cause of peace and for Eyal, Naftali and Gil-ad.
Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2014.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
How strong is the link between rhetoric and hate crime in the US?
Last month I wrote a post in this blog in which I
explored some of the disturbing similarities between conditions for African-Americans in the southern US before the civil rights movement and modern day Europe, specifically when it comes to
tolerance for a climate of racism and hate which contributed to the
normalization if violence against a perceived "other." In that piece I
noted that while there are important differences between the two, that
in each, the perception that violence against a particular racial, ethnic
or religious group is tolerated if not overtly condoned.
There are still plenty of reasons to be concerned about hate crimes in Europe, fueled both by Muslim extremists and ultra right-wing nationalist movements. I would point out the irony here, that there is ideologically no love lost between these two groups, but then again this is hardly the first time that neo nazis and Arab terrorists have put aside mutual contempt as they persecuted Jews - after all, the story of cooperation between the Nazis and Arab rulers in pre-state Israel is well known.
In that post my focus was on the idea that a bid for political legitimacy by far right groups in Europe (and their subsequent limited success) has contributed to an atmosphere of hate, intolerance and violence. But what about here in America ? Should we also be asking ourselves to what extent hate speech is emboldening those who may be on the edge of acting out violently ?
As I was thinking about this recent horrific shooting in Las Vegas I came across an opinion piece by Paul Waldman on the Washington Post website, in which he raises this very question. I would highly recommend reading it - whether or not you agree with Mr. Waldman, in light of recent events it's hard to argue with his premise that this an issue worth paying attention to, and a conversation worth having.
Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2014.
There are still plenty of reasons to be concerned about hate crimes in Europe, fueled both by Muslim extremists and ultra right-wing nationalist movements. I would point out the irony here, that there is ideologically no love lost between these two groups, but then again this is hardly the first time that neo nazis and Arab terrorists have put aside mutual contempt as they persecuted Jews - after all, the story of cooperation between the Nazis and Arab rulers in pre-state Israel is well known.
In that post my focus was on the idea that a bid for political legitimacy by far right groups in Europe (and their subsequent limited success) has contributed to an atmosphere of hate, intolerance and violence. But what about here in America ? Should we also be asking ourselves to what extent hate speech is emboldening those who may be on the edge of acting out violently ?
As I was thinking about this recent horrific shooting in Las Vegas I came across an opinion piece by Paul Waldman on the Washington Post website, in which he raises this very question. I would highly recommend reading it - whether or not you agree with Mr. Waldman, in light of recent events it's hard to argue with his premise that this an issue worth paying attention to, and a conversation worth having.
Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2014.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Introducing a new section: In the Bet Midrash
Introduction
One of the great traditions in Judaism is the study and discussion of our writings and history. Often these discussion takes place in a setting called a "Bet Midrash," which translates as "house of learning/explanation/
This particular mode of learning is known as studying in "Chevrutah" and it involves going through a text with a partner and trying to tease out the meanings, the subtleties and the connections to ideas both ancient and contemporary that the text contains. One of the brilliant things about this mode of learning is that the people in the Bet Midrash, from beginners to great scholars, are not just reading the words and ideas of great thinkers, but they are engaging with ideas in the very same way - the Talmud itself is a rich tapestry not just of wisdom, but of argument and debate, surrounded literally and figuratively by the commentary of other great thinkers.
For me, engaging with texts this way has been the best way to learn about the traditions, history and philosophy of the Jewish people. One of the best things about this mode of learning is that it also encourages the student to think about how the ideas and wisdom embodied in texts hundreds or even thousands of years old, apply to life today. So in this spirit I am adding a new section to my 36 Voices blog called "In the Bet Midrash" where I will explore, argue with and attempt to apply the ideas expressed in Jewish texts, from ancient to modern, to problems and situations in the world today.
Much like my occasional series “Words and the World,” meditations on literature and civil society, “In the Bet Midrash” will serve as an occasional series on Jewish texts and ideas. I hope that readers will check back from time to time to read the latest installments in this series and of course I welcome your reactions, questions and comments in the comment section below.
__________________________________________________________________________
Honi and the Carob Tree: Thoughts on Different Modes of Communal Leadership
June 6, 2014
For people who like to engage the study of Jewish text, the holiday of Shavuot, which celebrates the receiving of the Torah at Mount Sinai, is perhaps the Super Bowl of learning - on the first night of Shavuot all around the world in Jewish communities large and small, gather together for a marathon session of all night learning. Often different members of a community will take turns teaching on a particular topic they have prepared, creating space for everyone in the room to share their reactions and ideas. Shavuot also happens to be one of my favorite holidays, and this year I was honored to be invited to take part in the Tikkun (all night learning session) at Temple Beth Abraham in Nashua, New Hampshire.
For my part of the evening I decided to look at texts that each have a connection to ideas about "Community." The first thing we looked at was a section of the story about Honi the Circle drawer, a somewhat mysterious figure who shows up in the Babylonian Talmud and is perhaps best remembered for being able to bring rain during droughts by drawing a circle, standing inside it and praying to Gd in a particularly earnest and powerful way. But there is more to Honi than just his, ability to make it rain - he also stands at the center of an important lesson about community and inter-generational connections. While many people might have some familiarity with Honi, I would guess that fewer people know about the interaction that Honi has later in the narrative, with a man he encounters on the road who is planting a Carob tree.
In this part of the story Honi stops and marvels at the man's decision to plant a Carob tree - a tree, which he notes, that will not provide fruit for another 70 years, long after the man planting it has died. Honi seems baffled by this act, but the man explains that when he was born he himself found Carob trees planted by earlier generations that provided him with sustenance, and now he is doing the same for future generations. Honi then falls asleep and wakes up some 70 years later to see a boy standing in front of him, he asks who planted the tree and the boy tells him that his grandfather did.
On the surface this would seem to be a simple narrative with Honi as a kind of foil or everyman, who exists within the confines of the story so that the Talmud can remind us that just as we those who have come before us were kind and selfless enough to provide for us, we too have an obligation to provide something for future generations. And as a simple tale of Tzeakkah (charity) and Chesed (kindness) this is useful, but there is also much more going on here below the surface.
During the discussion at Temple Beth Abraham I was lucky enough to learn with a group of people who spanned the generations and brought with them a range of life experiences from different Jewish communities. One idea that was raised which I have been thinking about now for a couple of days, is the notion that perhaps Honi, by virtue of his unique way of connecting to the Almighty - drawing a circle and effectively creating his own sacred space – is also placing a barrier between himself and the community that he serves. Unlike the man planting the Carob tree, whose contribution does not have limit ( as someone in the room pointed out, each Carob tree will drop thousands of seeds, which in turn can create thousands of trees and perpetuate the cycle without end), what Honi does is much more finite, controlled and bounded. He is someone who can draw his own boundaries, and whose assistance to the community, while vital, is also circumscribed (pun intended) and limited to the time and place in which he chooses to beseech the divine.
For people who like to engage the study of Jewish text, the holiday of Shavuot, which celebrates the receiving of the Torah at Mount Sinai, is perhaps the Super Bowl of learning - on the first night of Shavuot all around the world in Jewish communities large and small, gather together for a marathon session of all night learning. Often different members of a community will take turns teaching on a particular topic they have prepared, creating space for everyone in the room to share their reactions and ideas. Shavuot also happens to be one of my favorite holidays, and this year I was honored to be invited to take part in the Tikkun (all night learning session) at Temple Beth Abraham in Nashua, New Hampshire.
For my part of the evening I decided to look at texts that each have a connection to ideas about "Community." The first thing we looked at was a section of the story about Honi the Circle drawer, a somewhat mysterious figure who shows up in the Babylonian Talmud and is perhaps best remembered for being able to bring rain during droughts by drawing a circle, standing inside it and praying to Gd in a particularly earnest and powerful way. But there is more to Honi than just his, ability to make it rain - he also stands at the center of an important lesson about community and inter-generational connections. While many people might have some familiarity with Honi, I would guess that fewer people know about the interaction that Honi has later in the narrative, with a man he encounters on the road who is planting a Carob tree.
In this part of the story Honi stops and marvels at the man's decision to plant a Carob tree - a tree, which he notes, that will not provide fruit for another 70 years, long after the man planting it has died. Honi seems baffled by this act, but the man explains that when he was born he himself found Carob trees planted by earlier generations that provided him with sustenance, and now he is doing the same for future generations. Honi then falls asleep and wakes up some 70 years later to see a boy standing in front of him, he asks who planted the tree and the boy tells him that his grandfather did.
On the surface this would seem to be a simple narrative with Honi as a kind of foil or everyman, who exists within the confines of the story so that the Talmud can remind us that just as we those who have come before us were kind and selfless enough to provide for us, we too have an obligation to provide something for future generations. And as a simple tale of Tzeakkah (charity) and Chesed (kindness) this is useful, but there is also much more going on here below the surface.
During the discussion at Temple Beth Abraham I was lucky enough to learn with a group of people who spanned the generations and brought with them a range of life experiences from different Jewish communities. One idea that was raised which I have been thinking about now for a couple of days, is the notion that perhaps Honi, by virtue of his unique way of connecting to the Almighty - drawing a circle and effectively creating his own sacred space – is also placing a barrier between himself and the community that he serves. Unlike the man planting the Carob tree, whose contribution does not have limit ( as someone in the room pointed out, each Carob tree will drop thousands of seeds, which in turn can create thousands of trees and perpetuate the cycle without end), what Honi does is much more finite, controlled and bounded. He is someone who can draw his own boundaries, and whose assistance to the community, while vital, is also circumscribed (pun intended) and limited to the time and place in which he chooses to beseech the divine.
This doesn't negate Honi's contribution - the
people still needed and were grateful for, the rain - but it does draw a sharp
distinction between how Honi and the planter see the communities of which they
are a part.
For me, this text points to two different attitudes toward
community and two different ways of serving a community. In the case of Honi we
see a man who has particular talents that address a specific need, but he has
become so focused on this unique ability, that he fails to see the limits of
his ability – more than that, he fails to see how more than one way of serving
the community or giving back, is even possible. In this sense, the story of Honi becomes a
cautionary tale for leaders, reminding them that however important their own contributions
may be, that they need to see beyond what they can accomplish on their own. The
man planting the tree also has own perspective, but it is a much wider one – he
knows that someone who came before him planted Carob trees so that he would
have food, and so he feels a duty to do the same for future generations. He has
no way of knowing exactly who planted the trees that he uses, and no way to
know who may come along after he has died and benefit from the trees he is planting
today. Both Honi and the man planting the tree represent the importance of
fulfilling the needs of communities in different, and complementary ways. Honi
is the right person at the right time – as RabbiHyim Shafner writes in his essay The Dream of Exile: A Rereading of Honi
the Circle-Drawer:
What each of us contributes to the
universe is not just the sum of what we have to offer but a unique structure
only we can bring to a certain time, place and state of the world. We are not
just the substance of our knowledge, emotion and personality, but a specific
form, woven into a certain historical time, generation and zeitgeist.
Without Honi to bring rain to the land in winter, people in
his generation might have died of thirst and starvation, without the planter
looking ahead (and behind) there would be no one to continue the legacy and
provide for future generations. This is true not only to Carob trees and rain,
but to all of the resources that a Jewish community needs. Perhaps our sages
are trying to remind us that a successful community, one which continues from
one generation to the next, is made up of a mix of people, some who have the
right answer for the moment and others who are cognizant of their place in the
chain of memory, culture and community, those who look to both the past and the
future.
Copyright Daniel E.
Levenson 2014.
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