Australia/Israel Review

The renowned Israeli novelist Amos Oz once wrote: “I have mixed feelings about Jerusalem… it is beautiful, it is tragic, and it is extremely attractive to all kinds of fanatics… I find this fascinating, but I don’t think I would like to live in the middle of this.”

Oz was speaking about Jerusalem, but he could have been referring to the current emotional state of the Jewish people. If there is a phrase that encapsulates our existential position it’s “mixed feelings” – we are uneasy, conflicted, uncomfortable or simply discombobulated!

We are rejoicing that some of our people are coming home, relieved that the terrible war is ceasing – even if it may only be a pause. Our hearts lifted to see Noa Argamani and the sweep of yellow sashes in honour of the hostages at the Trump inauguration. However, we are also filled with apprehension – fearful for the remaining hostages, especially those not included in the agreement’s first phase, and worried about the support for Hamas and triumphalism on the streets of Gaza and the West Bank. 

More than anything, we are sorrowful that nothing is the same anymore. It’s no joy to live in the middle of this juncture of our history.

Since October 7, tragedy and a deep melancholy have invaded the once irrepressible Israeli spirit. When Zohar Palti, who served in a senior role at the Mossad, was recently asked: “What’s changed in Israel?” he responded with great simplicity: ‘‘We’re sad’’. Israel was close to the top of the Global Happiness scale for many years. It’s hard to imagine that is still the case – despite the remarkably resilient spirit of this nation at war and under constant attack. 

In Australia, we Jews are bewildered, disquieted, angry and ineffably saddened by the ugly and pervasive antisemitism in this country we have always called home. We are as befuddled as the first generation of Hebrews who, according to Genesis, enjoyed warm acceptance as part of Egyptian society and participated in enhancing it (“the land of Egypt was filled” with their contributions). Then they woke up one day to find they were regarded as dangerous interlopers by the new administration: “And there arose a new King in Egypt who didn’t know Joseph.”

It may sound all but impossible for the Egyptians to have forgotten about Joseph the Jew – who had a meteoric rise from slave to Viceroy and became the economic “czar” who saved the country from drought and destitution! Yet Sir Frank Lowy recently expressed perplexity that the Australia that so warmly welcomed him as a 21-year-old immigrant after surviving the Shoah, is witnessing such naked and vile antisemitism, seemingly oblivious of the contribution he and countless other Jews made to this country – in business, politics, defence, the arts and medicine.

Yet alongside this toxically tragic mix, hope is still to be found. I meet it every day in the words and actions of my fellow Australians; Christians, Hindus, First Peoples, and ordinary Aussies who reach out in empathy and kindness. 

Here is just one example – an Anglican minister at Darling Point sent this message to all his congregants and friends regarding the current wave of antisemitism:

This is a moment when we, as their neighbours, must not turn a blind eye… First, pray that these attacks stop and that our neighbours be able to worship in peace. Pray that the perpetrators be brought to justice and pray that our governments take a strong stance against these acts. Pray for the friends and colleagues that you know who might be feeling afraid at this time.

Secondly, reach out to your friends, neighbours, and colleagues and let them know that you are praying for them. Let them know that you are standing alongside them…

Friends like these provide us with hope that we may yet be able to move beyond this era of mixed feelings to unequivocal expressions of joy and celebration we have not experienced for the last 15 months!