Amidst the scourge of anti-Semitism that has resurged in recent years — and which, by definition, applies equally to Muslims as well as Jews — we need to take a moment to remember the essential difference between religion and politics.
Just as American Muslims aren’t knee-jerk defenders of the mullahs in Tehran or Hamas overlords in Gaza despite their seemingly-shared religion, Jews in this country don’t necessarily support Israel’s savage and arguably genocidal war on its southern neighbor, which continues even as a ceasefire deal has been reportedly reached.
In fact, “don’t necessarily support” understates the case. The Jewish community in Modesto along with Jews all across America are, if not openly outraged at Israel’s scorched-earth military tactics, privately torn between their love for Judaism’s historic homeland and their horror at what Israel’s ruling coalition has been doing. The contrast between what most Jews see as a religion promoting justice and compassion, and modern Israel’s right-wing response to October 7 that seemingly seeks Gaza’s total destruction and the proliferation of famine, has become utterly soul-wrenching.
This spiritual crisis was clearly on display at a special sharing time held at Modesto’s Congregation Beth Shalom just weeks ago. Following the usual Friday evening Sabbath service, a Stanislaus State professor who’d lived in Israel for a decade offered his insights into modern Jewry’s ongoing crisis of conscience, along with his personal opinions regarding President Netanyahu’s endless extensions of the war on Gaza lest the Israeli leader finally face the multiple allegations of corruption hanging over him. Beth Shalom’s congregants were then invited to express their own feelings on the matter, encouraged by the caveat that no debate would be allowed.
What soon became apparent was the near-universal heartbreak Israel’s war has brought about within the local Jewish community. The question of how individual congregants could, in good conscience, continue to support Israel’s fracturing democracy amidst the surrounding sea of authoritarian kingdoms and theocracies has wreaked a kind of spiritual schizophrenia on the Jewish psyche. Almost to a person — at least among those in attendance that evening — Jewish congregants looked upon Israel’s actions in Gaza with abhorrence.
Moreover, many synagogue members confronted with questions about the war’s conduct from their non-Jewish neighbors and co-workers admitted to reactions that ranged from awkward silence to shoulder-shrugging embarrassment, the majority of them either unwilling or unable to defend Israel’s policies. Clearly, to justify the carnage in Gaza by regurgitating the rationale that every country has a right to defend itself, which Israel most certainly does, is no longer tenable in light of the death toll and the atrocities that have been committed almost daily.
In any case, the sincere questioning of Jews by non-Jews does illustrate what has always been true about religious communities in America, including those of Semitic origin. Identifying as a Jew does not equate with blind allegiance to the modern country of Israel. Being a Muslim does not bind one to the edicts of emirs or the fatwas of clerics who counsel death to any “infidel” who prefers Western freedoms over a life governed by Sharia law. Nor, for that matter, do America’s Catholics unfailingly fall in lock-step with the pronouncements of a pontiff — even an American one — elected to power by an all-male colloquium of elderly cardinals in Vatican City.
The collections of beliefs and resulting customs that define the world’s major religions may have their origins in a specific geographical location on Earth, yes. But those tenets and traditions, insofar as they have matured through the centuries and attracted followers based on their perceived truths and spiritual advantages, are now free of the nest from which they hatched and fledged. Today we’ve learned to separate origin from religion, and to judge a religion’s validity by the character and actions of those who follow it, the daily manifestation of which is their faith.
Many in the Mideast accurately identify themselves as Israelis. Whether those same Israelis can truthfully be counted as adherents of a Jewish religion is a separate matter. That so many people can’t make this distinction continues to plague Jews not only in the U.S. but around the world, through increasing levels of misguided hatred and undeserved acts of terror.
In view of Israel’s actions during its war on Gaza, the consequences were predictable, even if unwarranted.
Modesto-based book author Mark Haskett was the founding director of InnerFaith Resources in Modesto and a former longtime member of the Stanislaus County Interfaith Council.