I went to a modern-Orthodox Zionist high school. You can imagine the kind of stuff they taught there. Highlights included:
- A school assembly with a debate of students about the validity of the (1990s) peace process. With someone on the side that it’s not worthwhile saying that the idea of the peace process suggests that ‘Arab countries’ can change, then saying without irony “[but] can a leopard change its spots?”.
- “You’re such an Arab!” being a Category 1 insult in the playground.
- Our director of Jewish studies saying he respects Arabs for organising buses from Sydney’s western suburbs to go protest and make trouble in front of synagogues (located in very different suburbs!) and lamenting that the Jewish community doesn’t have the commitment to be more aggressive and confrontational.
While I scoffed at some of the more ridiculous things, I could avoid being influenced somewhat. The day I realised this was truly over was in 2011 at Istanbul Airport.
I was waiting for a flight to Tel Aviv. So were lots of Russian Orthodox pilgrims. They talked amongst themselves and someone said that “the Jews have turned [the Orthodox pilgrim trail] into a good business, like can do with everything”. He then said how “it doesn’t matter that we know a particular place might not be the exact place where these things happen but the most important thing is to walk the land that He walked”. I easily pass as a non-Russian speaker, so I ended up inadvertently eavesdropping right near them. It was hard to keep my reaction down just to eyerolls and not to tell the man what I thought of him.
This being a flight to Israel, there was extra security. After the extra check and interview, we had to line up to go through another metal detector to get into the sealed-off boarding gate. A woman and a girl were being questioned by a Turkish Airlines employee who was holding their Palestinian Authority passport. Oh shit, I thought, watching from a distance. There was a humiliation in the whole situation which only got worse. The Russian pilgrims knew why this family was being stopped without needing any details; the family they knew that the others knew and so on. The questioning was done in public.
The daughter was the one who spoke English so she was the one spoken to. She said they left the West Bank through Jordan. The Turkish Airlines employee pulled them out of the queue, saying he would telephone Ben Gurion Airport. The presumption being that he couldn’t let them fly if they were only going to be sent back.
Sure enough, the answer came back: they would have to fly back through Jordan and enter the way they came. What got to me was the humiliation this involved — they could not escape this even in Turkey. They would be the only people left on the other side of the boarding gate glass wall. They may or may not get a refund help from Turkish Airlines to get home. They may or may not be able to afford a new ticket. The staff would make a fuss about them, turning it into a “scene” that others might remember as “inappropriate”. I waited but eventually had to go through into the boarding gate. Like an overly-symbolic B movie, I was sitting right next to them but we were separated by the glass wall.
I don’t know what the Palestinian family felt. I only have my reaction to report on and boy was I horrified — at many things:
- That this was not a dramatic moment and not really considered newsworthy.
- That it was relatively speaking only a minor humiliation in a whole sea of shittiness.
- That the woman actually didn’t seem so cynical about Israel’s policy to her travel that she assumed she would be treated like other passengers — well they showed her!
- That this wasn’t the fault of the Turkish Airlines operator and he he was actually doing them a favour by saving them pointless flights and an interrogation at Ben Gurion. (I had just visited Iran and based on how long my interrogation was about to take, they might have actually SAVED time going through Jordan.)
- That while those horrible Russian pilgrims* got to be oblivious to the situation and to go on their pilgrimage (where they could snigger at the successful Jew-business), the family couldn’t go home.
- That I couldn’t for the life of me explain why I was on the correct boarding side of the glass — what made me so special?
- But most of all, I was incensed and offended that this was being done in my name. Indirectly of course, but to the extent that Israel bills itself as a homeland for all Jews, a country where I could have taken up residence as soon as the plane landed thanks to the Law of Return, it was doing this for me. That pissed me off. I know it’s a selfish motivation but I’ll take it.
That’s when I knew the influence of my high school had finally rubbed off. I look forward to the Reasoned and Undeniable criticisms about why I’m soft on terrorism, an Israel-hater and so on.
Reluctantly, I boarded the plane. I flew to Israel and while there heard many more absolutely unspeakable opinions. That’s for another post though.
*Being Russian, I get to pass judgement on the kinds of Russians that are usually found travelling in other countries. They’re pretty much the worst.
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