A few days ago I watched the film ‘My Sister’s Keeper’, which explored a family struggling with the suffering and eventual death of one of its members due to cancer. As I was in the habit of doing, I ate some popcorn during the movie. Yet as the film showed the horrible misery of a terminally ill human being, I felt that it was wrong for me to continue to eat my popcorn. So I put my food down, and watched the film.

The next day, I tried again. This time the movie was ‘Adam Resurrected’, a film about an eccentric Holocaust survivor who after years of being tormented by a Nazi commander, is confined to an Israeli insane asylum for survivors. Through experimental psychotherapy the main character is able to confront his demons and resurrect his humanity. As the film illustrated the terrible experience at a Nazi death camp, I again felt uncomfortable eating my popcorn.

One could explain this feeling as an almost physical revulsion to the sight of vomit and blood. Perhaps we are evolutionarily designed not to ingest anything near the sight of fluids exiting the human body. But this would be an inadequate explanation: I have watched many bloody and grotesque movies before and they have not interfered with my gastronomical tradition. Moreover, it wasn’t just vomit and blood that caused my discomfort, it was also tears and cries of anguish.

Another explanation has to do with an elementary respect for the sacredness of life: The flipside of which is when we witness the integrity of a person’s life being violated, when we witness another person suffering, we experience a desecration of our basic values. But again, I have watched many movies where life has been violated and have been able to eat while watching. Perhaps the difference is in the nature of the movies: realism vs. fantasy.

But what does it all have to do with eating popcorn?

The act of eating is an act of civilization – a pleasurable act – an affirmation of life. The act of eating, while watching another person suffer or die, creates distance. In movies, at least in good ones, we identify with the characters. We feel their pain and share their joys. To engage in a pleasurable activity while another is suffering is to alienate yourself from their experience. It is also to turn yourself into a passive and possibly sadistic spectator. Instead of empathizing with the person suffering you are now doing something pleasurable while they are suffering.

All this leads me to ask: What kind of conditioning does eating and watching suffering create? The pairing of food, pleasure and watching suffering may, I would suggest, work against our humanity. Hence my initial discomfort. Of course, none of this is rational since we are dealing here with movies, but the impulse itself remains rather fascinating.

These thoughts made me wonder about some recent readings I have been doing. Why do we go out of our way to view suffering and death? Why do tourist, for example, who visit Cambodia want to see the “killing fields” where thousands of people were ruthlessly murdered; why do sophisticated New Yorkers visit museums to see photo portraits of Cambodian prisoners (taken by their tormentors prior to their interrogated, torture and death); why do we award Pulitzer prizes to pictures of an emaciated girl about to be devoured by a vulture; and why do we feel the need to watch footage of planes crushing into buildings? Is it simply curiously, much in the same way people stop to see a traffic accident, or is there something more profound at work here?

Scholars Arthur and Joan Kleinman have offered some answers to this question. They claim that our vouristic and obsessive interests in images of the suffering serve a number of political and moral functions: They entertain us, they keeps focused on problems outside of our own society; and they makes us feel better about ourselves (“at least we are not them”). While I share some of the Nietzschean-like suspicion of the Kleinmans, it is clear that there is more to this story.

I think that the answer to this question begins with fear. Fear of our own demise and mortality. In viewing those who have suffered we allow ourselves to consciously and unconsciously explore death without really risking the price of confrontation. As Aristotle would point out thousands of years ago (dealing with drama), and as Freud would bring the point home in the 20th century, by viewing death at a distance, we give troubling and pent-up emotions have room to express themselves. So we begin with fear and with catharsis.

Freud would also add something more sinister here (at last, human nature with Freud does not get off the hook that easily). He would also argue that our fascination with death and suffering is a consequence of a universal unconscious drive towards aggression and dis-integration (which later Freudians called “Thanatos”). Freud conceived of this “death drive” after observing veterans of WWI consistently re-enact traumatic experience they had undergone in the war. While Freud saw our aggressive disposition as an obstacle to culture, he would also argue that it is (in sublimated form) a fundamental aspect of civilization. A Freudian perspective would locate the origin of our fascination with suffering not only to a drive of aggression, but also to an unconscious identification with both victim and tormentor.

Turning from humankind’s darker side, we could also speculate that our interest in real-life horror comes from a recognition of the unity of humankind. Contemplating the problem of altruism, the 19th century German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer once asked why is it that people, acting against the self-preserving laws of nature, risk their lives to aid one another. His conclusion:

Obviously this can occur only because another can actually become the final concern of my willing-as I myself its usual concern: that is to say because I can desire his weal and suffer his woe as acutely as though they were my own. But this necessarily presupposes that I can actually participate sympathetically in his pain, can experience his pain as otherwise only my own, and consequently can truly desire his good, as otherwise only my own. Which, in turn, demands, however, that I should for a certain time become identified with him: demands, that is to say, that the final distinction between me and him, which is the premise of my egoism, should, to some degree at least, be suspended.

Schopenhauer considers this recognition of unity, a mysterious metaphysical impulse, to be at the heart of all morality. Thus from a Schopenhauerian perspective, our interest in the suffering of others, is on some level a consequence of this empathic unity.

In the end, whether the reasons are political (as the Klienman’s would have it), psychological (as Aristotle and Freud would have it), or metaphysical (as Schopenhauer would have it), our fascination with suffering, death and dying is something that is a deep part of our makeup. From a conflict resolution perspective, I think that the Schopenhauerian point of view is the most useful. The problem of course is that in conflict it is precisely the breakdown of this type of identification that is a root cause of violence. It is attitudes/beliefs of dehumanization, demonization and deindividuation that bring about and perpetuate conflict. The question is: how best to overcome these attitudes? The answer may start with not eating popcorn while watching the misery of others.

As someone of you may know, I am married to a non-Jew. So every now and again, I get asked about the question/problem of intermarriage. Recently, a friend wrote to me that he is concerned about bringing home his non-Jewish girlfriend for the holidays.

So as part of a Thanksgiving special, here is the agnostic Rabbi’s advice:

I hear your concern. Being Jewish is important to you and you do not want to lose that. You want to raise a Jewish family. Fair enough. But I don’t think your apprehension is completely rational. I say this because people like you and I have at least ten Jews inside of them If your partner is open to your tradition, then your household will also be Jewish. It may be more than just Jewish – but is will also be Jewish. The key is finding someone who understands and is open to the place of Judaism in your life.

That said, you might have to be open to her traditions as well. Embrace the diversity. With the right approach there is room for all.

But what about the children? I think the argument about children underestimates children’s intelligence. I know people who grew up in a multi-cultural home and they really benefited from the experience. Yes, at some stage in their mental development children see things in black and white, but there is no reason why a Christmas tree and a menorah cannot constitute one category for the child. you see what I am saying?

If the parents do not present the different traditions in an exclusive and confrontational manner than there really should be no major problem. While it is true that outside the home the child will brush-up against different interpretations of his/hers traditions, with a strong and positive multi-cultural foundation he/she will be equipped to handle that. After all, that happens even when you grew up within a singe tradition – a passover at my house is very different than a passover at your house.

In the end, I would say that if you are lucky enough to know love, and if your partner happens to have been raised in another tradition, do not let accident of birth divide you. It really does not get better than love. If you got it: cherish it, nourish it and protect it.

These are my two shekels. Of course I could be wrong. But given my present state of affairs, I sure hope I am right.

While this blog deals primarily with issues relating to the Arab-Israeli conflict, every once in a while I feel compelled and inspired to post something different. This is such an occasion. Please take time to read and repost this powerful and important article by Terence Cantarella. In this piece Cantarella looks into the problem of unsolved Miami homicides through the lens of a mother struggling with chronic grief and depression. As a gifted writer, Cantarella reminds us that behind the troubling statistics, behind the sociological studies of urban decay, there lies the often neglected human dimension.

Although a year has passed since her son’s death, Tawana Fairell still can’t sleep at night. She can’t concentrate, can’t shed her feelings of guilt, and trusts no one. She’s not the same person she used to be. She can’t even look at Alex’s picture anymore. She had to turn it around to face the wall. Not knowing why her child was killed is torture. Knowing that the killer, or killers, freely roam the same city streets where she and her family live, haunts her like nothing else.

Seated at a picnic table at Charles Hadley Park in Liberty City, the soft-spoken single mother of three boys speaks eloquently about her late son with a mixture of heartache and exhaustion: “Sometimes I think God sees how much I love my sons and is jealous and is looking for ways to get my attention away. Everyone tells me God doesn’t work like that, but I just can’t understand why my son isn’t here right now. I picture the worst. I imagine him screaming and calling out for me and I wasn’t there for him. I sleep with every light on in the house. I’m afraid he might come to me in the night with that burnt side of his face. I get headaches every night on my left side and my left eye gets blurry. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

To read more, please click here.

The Jerusalem Post has just published a fascinating in-depth interview with Aziz Abu Sarah, Palestinian writer and peace activist. In it, Abu Sarah speaks candidly about the difficult journey he has undergone from a boy consumed by hatred and revenge to a man guided by empathy, compassion and justice. Abu Sarah’s words should be read by anyone who reduces Palestinian/human agency to outside forces – i.e. those who blame Islam, or those who blame the occupation. I have no doubt that if we could clone Abu Sarah a thousand times (split evenly between Israel and Palestine) there will be an end to this conflict.

As anyone who has been involved in peace-making efforts between Israelis and Palestinians knows, there comes a moment where you are compelled to say “fuck it.” This is the moment when you say to yourself: “Let’s be honest, this peace-process is an exercise in futility. These people deserve each other. I am going to wash my hands clean of this mess. Fuck it!”

Yesterday, Thomas Friedman had his own “fuck it” moment. He shared it with the world, arguing in the NYT that until Israelis and Palestinians reach a mutually hurting stalemate, until both parties prove they really want peace, the United States should remove itself completely from the peace process.

Have a read:

Today, the Arabs, Israel and the Palestinians are clearly not feeling enough pain to do anything hard for peace with each other — a mood best summed up by a phrase making the rounds at the State Department: The Palestinian leadership “wants a deal with Israel without any negotiations” and Israel’s leadership “wants negotiations with the Palestinians without any deal.”

It is obvious that this Israeli government believes it can have peace with the Palestinians and keep the West Bank, this Palestinian Authority still can’t decide whether to reconcile with the Jewish state or criminalize it and this Hamas leadership would rather let Palestinians live forever in the hellish squalor that is Gaza than give up its crazy fantasy of an Islamic Republic in Palestine.

If we are still begging Israel to stop building settlements, which is so manifestly idiotic, and the Palestinians to come to negotiations, which is so manifestly in their interest, and the Saudis to just give Israel a wink, which is so manifestly pathetic, we are in the wrong place. It’s time to call a halt to this dysfunctional “peace process,” which is only damaging the Obama team’s credibility.

If the status quo is this tolerable for the parties, then I say, let them enjoy it. I just don’t want to subsidize it or anesthetize it anymore. We need to fix America. If and when they get serious, they’ll find us. And when they do, we should put a detailed U.S. plan for a two-state solution, with borders, on the table. Let’s fight about something big.

Over at Al Jazeera, I report on J Street’s first national conference.

They came in droves. Over 1,500 people mobilised in Washington last week to support J Street – the nascent Jewish-American lobbying organisation that defines itself as “Pro-Israel, Pro-Peace”.

J Street’s vision is for a secure and democratic Israel existing side-by-side in peace and security with a Palestinian state. As a lobbying organisation, it is recognised by many as an alternative to the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC).

Unlike the more established and powerful AIPAC, which tends to tailor its support to Israel’s governmental point of view, J Street differentiates between support for Israel and support for the policies of the Israeli government.

The mood at the conference was buoyant and forward-looking. For three days, participants listened to speeches by notable politicians and intellectuals; gathered for panels headed by some of today’s top Middle East analysts; and networked in the hallways of the Hyatt hotel.

“We couldn’t be more thrilled,” said Jeremy Ben-Ami, J Street’s executive director, “The numbers of participants far exceeded our expectations – 148 congressmen supported the event, 250 students, and reporters from 17 countries came. This is truly the birth of a movement.”

The enthusiasm of Ben-Ami was shared by many other attendees.

To read more, click here.

May her beautiful and powerful soul rest in peace.

In Haaretz, my fruitful exchange/debate with Palestinian writer Aziz Abu Sarah on whether the Palestinians should accept Israel as a Jewish state.

Should the Palestinians Accept Israel as a Jewish State?
By Roi Ben-Yehuda and Aziz Abu Sarah

Ever since his June speech at Bar-Ilan University, Prime Minster Benjamin Netanyahu has made it clear that peace with the Palestinians is conditioned on the latter accepting Israel as a Jewish state.

During his much-lauded address at the United Nations, Netanyahu reiterated his position:

“We ask the Palestinians to finally do what they have refused to do for 62 years: Say yes to a Jewish state. As simple, as clear, as elementary as that. Just as we are asked to recognize a nation-state for the Palestinian people, the Palestinians must be asked to recognize the nation-state of the Jewish people.”

The Palestinians, for their part, have rejected Netanyahu’s position. Their claim rests on three assertions: It is not the business of Palestinians to recognize the Jewish nature of Israel. Such recognition would endanger the rights of Palestinian citizens of Israel. Acknowledging the Jewish state would negate the Palestinian right of return.

So, should the Palestinians accept a Jewish State? Israeli and Palestinian writers Roi Ben-Yehuda and Aziz Abu Sarah got together to explore the topic. The following is their exchange.

Ben-Yehuda: Aziz, I am happy to have the opportunity for this exchange with you. I will start off this discussion by stating that I think Netanyahu’s position (which was first articulated by Ehud Olmert and Tzipi Livni) is a good one.

I support this position because it provides the Palestinians a real opportunity to put their cards on the table: To state in an unequivocal fashion that they are ready to make peace with Israel, i.e. to renounce the right of return which is incompatible with a two-state solution.

I also support this position because recognizing Israel as a Jewish state will go a long way toward allaying some of the basic existential fears of the Israeli people. In so doing, it will enable the government to conduct negotiations without fearing that concessions will lead to loss of identity or security (not to mention loss of political power back home).

I say this as an unapologetic Zionist and peacenik – as someone who believes that both the Jews and the Palestinians by virtue of being a people with deep historic ties to the land have a right to a state in part of Israel/Palestine.

Abu Sarah: Roi, you are right that recognition is important to allay the fears of Israelis, but Netanyahu’s demand is not a fair request. Palestinians still don’t even have a state as a direct result of Israel’s creation and the subsequent occupation of the West Bank. Equal recognition means the Palestinian recognition of Israel’s right to existence and Israeli recognition of Palestinians’ right to a state.

Recognizing Israel as a Jewish state would require a change of the Palestinian narrative and identity and would affect the rights of Palestinians citizens of Israel. Furthermore, such recognition before a just solution to the Palestinian refugee problem would dishonor the suffering of these refugees. Palestinians would be accepting the right of return of Jews who never lived in the land over those who were expelled from it.

Israel has peace agreements with Jordan and Egypt, yet neither of them had to recognize Israel as a Jewish State. These agreements have been successful regardless.

To read read the rest of the debate click here. As always, if the spirit moves you, please share your thoughts and repost.

For more, click here.