‘I was bullied into Gaza Kaddish apology’
I was dropped as Israel tour leader after said I Kaddish for dead Gazans. The community must become a bigger tent
THE STUDENT at the centre of the Kaddish for Gaza row has said she allowed herself to be bullied into apologising for it.
Nina Morris-Evans was subjected to intense online abuse for her role in the Kaddish, when young Jews gathered in Parliament Square in May to say the mourning prayer for 62 Gazans killed on the border with Israel. Shortly after the prayer session, however, Hamas said 50 of the dead were operatives for the terror group.
Writing in the JC this week, Ms Morris-Evans says she had to say sorry to keep her place as Tour Leader for RSY, Reform Judaism’s youth wing. She was removed as tour leader regardless but joined another tour after Liberal Judaism stepped in to take her.
Reform Judaism later apologised for the “hurt caused” to Ms Morris-Evans. A spokesperson said: “Nina is a valued member of Reform Judaism, and we have always maintained that there is a place for her in RSY-Netzer.”
IN MAY this year, 62 Palestinians lost their lives at the border between Israel and Gaza. I was one of a group of committed Jews including leaders of the Reform and Liberal Movements who protested publicly at yet another setback to peace. We met, recited readings and said prayers — including Kaddish.
The next day I published an opinion piece explaining our action. There was an immediate backlash against the protest which became focused on me personally. I received a torrent of nasty, misogynistic and threatening abuse; I was called a “half-breed” because my father is a convert.
I had set my heart on leading Israel Tour, and was particularly excited to share my love for the country since spending my gap year living and studying in Jerusalem. Attending weeks of seminars in Israel and England only increased my sense of anticipation. However, amid the furore surrounding our decision to say Kaddish for the Gaza dead, and two days before I was due to meet the chanichim (tour participants), I was dropped as an RSY tour leader by Reform Judaism, its parent body. I was bitterly disappointed.
But two weeks later, I was invited to take up a position as a madricha (leader) for Liberal Jewish Youth, and so began the best month of my life, in the company of 40 of the most inspiring young people I’ve ever come across. As we travelled around the Golan Heights, the Kinneret, Jerusalem, Masada and the deserts of the south, the Occupation was not my primary concern: homesickness, anxiety and tummy bugs took priority. The main subjects of debate with the chanichim were hats, water and sun cream.
However, we did talk about the Occupation — chanichim and madrichim together — and the conversations were sometimes very painful: our Israeli madrich had only recently finished his national service and had strong opinions which conflicted with my own. And yet somehow, this group was able to discuss the topic without anyone’s status as a Jew with an equal right to an opinion being called into question.
It’s become a tradition at my synagogue on Second Day Rosh Hashanah for the rabbi to invite up to the bimah people who have faced difficulty during the year. In previous years I have appreciated my good fortune at this moment, and felt only compassion as others went forward. But this year I needed to stand and recite gomel myself, knowing that everyone in the room with me understood my vulnerability, and only wished me well.
The clergy, lay leaders and members of Finchley Reform Synagogue — whether or not they share my opinions on the Occupation — have been a constant source of comfort, even inviting me to lead the Shacharit service on first day Rosh Hashanah. They have taught me what an amazing thing community can be, and how lucky I am to be part of such a special one.
Until this summer I had assumed this feeling of belonging was part of what connected me to the Anglo-Jewish community as a whole.
I am more disturbed and saddened by what the events of summer say about the state of the British Jewish community than I am by the personal attacks on social media.
I allowed myself to be bullied into making an apology in exchange for a secure place as a tour leader only to be dropped anyway to appease those people who had been clamouring for my dismissal. But because of the officially even-handed stance towards the politics of Israel/Palestine taken by RSY, Reform Judaism felt it necessary to maintain that it was not my views on the Occupation that prompted my dismissal, but personal character faults which made me an inappropriate choice to lead a group of young people.
What direction is our community taking if this is the way its leaders seek to place limits on freedom of speech and action?
Zionism comes in many forms. One can love Israel and criticise its government. One can love Israel and still mourn those that lose their lives at its hands, whatever their creed. I lived in West Jerusalem for seven months and I return there at every opportunity. I want to engage with the country, to improve my Hebrew, to return to the Conservative Yeshiva for a longer course of study. But I believe that engaging with Israel includes engaging with its politics.
I have seen with my own eyes the ruin of Palestinian communities caused by house demolitions and lack of water. I have observed the exhaustion of mothers who can no longer sleep for fear that their teenage son may be the next to be arrested during the night — and the treatment these young people receive in military courts, where it is more simple for them to plead guilty to a crime they did not commit and get a minimum sentence than to plead innocent and spend a longer time in prison waiting for a lawyer to defend them.
My critics point out that this systematic oppression is not without motive, that many Palestinians would wish me dead, and that the death and destruction caused by Palestinian terrorists attacks justifies a regime of constant intimidation. I know the prospect of peace is remote, and that this is not only the fault of the Israeli government. I have studied the disastrous leadership of the Palestinian Authority, and the devastation caused by Hamas. I do not condone the actions of terrorists, nor do I think they are easy to control.
But I am not alone in my misgivings about the response of the Israeli government to these challenges. People like me should not be pushed out of our communities on account of our politics — and this includes those who are passionate about their Judaism and yet do not consider themselves Zionists at all.
It has been a turbulent summer for the Jewish community, which makes it all the more important that we stop infighting.
We must find a way to have constructive conversations about Israel and about the Occupation.
Whatever you might feel about the ‘Kaddish for Gaza’ protest, surely the behaviour of the summer was not a productive precedent to set to young people, many of whom are questioning their position on Israel. We do not want to be a community that hurls violent and threatening abuse at one another.
We must aspire to accept our differences, face controversy and, like those teenagers I led around Israel, respect each other’s opinions.
My dream for this generation is that their thoughtfulness and willingness to listen will continue throughout their lives. But if that is to happen, they will have to specifically avoid following the example that was set for them this summer by the wider Jewish community.
This was not a good precedent to set for young Jews