Can I Forget Thee?

I am Jewish, a descendant of the Judeans who inhabited a scrap of Middle-eastern territory called Judaea some three thousand years ago. I am also a descendant of dispersed people whose members wandered the face of the earth, yet retaining a cohesion in sufficient number to create a unique culture that marked them so they could identify their brothers and sisters wherever they found their abode. During their initial passage, the message they shared with the peoples of the world has impacted the lives of billions on this planet. What was created by Jews during this dispersion has so marked its members that they have often been recognized by other peoples as a nation although they occupied no physical territorial space. Wherever they have gone, both as individuals and as communities, their impact on their surroundings has been out of proportion to their relatively small numbers.

Nevertheless, their devotion to the idea of their homeland, (If I forget thee, O Jerusalem!”) has led, in the end, to the establishment of the Jews as a physical nation in a portion of their ancestral territory. Now that something more than one-third of their surviving numbers, (the dispersion had painful consequences for the wanderers,) inhabit their ancient territories, they are presenting, in many ways, a new face, particularly as it relates to their history during the dispersion.

The nation’s devotion to study and learning in a religious context, which so strongly contributed to its survival, and assisted the successful integration of many of its members into more open societies, presents an entirely different face in the current physical re-incarnation. The business of physical nationhood makes entirely different demands. The religious element, while strongly present, is less important than the demands of survival as a territorial entity. Ancient Israel faced similar challenges, effectively a vassal state to larger powers during most of its existence. Current day Israel, while fully independent, must carry on a similar diplomatic dance to remain on good terms with the world’s major military and economic powers.

But Israel is an entirely different creature than the dispersed communities that were, and are, the Jewish communities of the diaspora. Whereas before, individuals from the community would have to beg the powers-that-be for assistance in the face of member distress, now a national government acts directly to protect its interests, and the interests of distressed Jews wherever they are required to. And other nations know this. The reach of Israel’s intelligence services is well known, as well as their lethality. They are already legend.

Lacking in major sources of natural resources, Israel has invested heavily in science and technology across a wide range of activity. Facing physical threats from some of its Arab neighbors, it has become the go-to place for the technologies of defense on the ground and in the air. It has become a major exporter of such materials to countries around the world. When The U.S licenses some of their weaponry to them, Israeli researchers improve them for production in that country. From cyber security to missile defense, to equipment for soldiers or policemen, to agricultural productivity, to advances in the health field, this is the place where buyers come, sometimes to the chagrin of Israel’s allies. Jews living in other countries are sometimes embarrassed when Israel’s policies upset governments where they live.

Many technology companies have established branch offices in Israel to take advantage of the breakthroughs being made in Israel in many fields. Israeli start-up companies are being purchased by American enterprises every day, and some are being launched on American markets. Through the recent Abraham Accords, a number of Arab countries are now doing the same thing in Israel.

Attractive as all this is, and Jews are arriving from other counties every day, there is still the heritage of two thousand years of history in the diaspora. While we may have learned to speak the modern Hebrew that has been revived, those of us in the older generation still glory in the culture bequeathed to us by our parents from the “old country”. We still enjoy the Yiddish literature and the Yiddish songs. We still enjoy the Jewish holiday traditions as they were once performed, and take pleasure in a weekly Sabbath observance and synagogue attendance. They seem far away from our thoughts about the modern Israel we know, even though it was in this crucible that the hunger for a return was nurtured and realized. Every year at Passover, we intone “next year in Jerusalem. And then we call our children and grandchildren, and the relatives who live there. We listen for the latest news, and hope for peace and tranquility.

This feeling of dichotomy may be more real to me, being a first generation resident of the New World. New immigrants from other countries, and the children they bear in their new surroundings, may feel this same feeling of being torn by conflicting loyalties. We have seen in America how warm the associations of new immigrants and their children can be with their former homes. But in our case this home existed only in our minds for many generations. And in our case our former homes carried too many tragic memories and histories. This new land we treasure speaks of liberation along with struggle, of victory as a part payment for so many deaths.

If I forget thee O Jerusalem, may my right hand lose its cunning!