This year marks the 75th year of the Nakba. As a Jewish member of Rochester Witness for Palestine, I have been reflecting on how the holiday of Passover, which began on the evening of April 5th, relates to my advocacy for Palestinians today.
The essence of Passover is the Seder, the ritual communal meal based on a symbolic retelling of the story in the Old Testament Book of Exodus. Represented in special foods like matzah (unleavened bread), spring greens, and horse radish, and in particular moments such as dipping spring greens in salt water to represent annual renewal despite centuries of bitter tears, the Seder serves to preserve history, collective memory, and shared community and is thus essential to Jewish identity.
I believe, however, that there are two ways to understand this annual reaffirmation of identity as guided by the Haggadah, the book that provides the roadmap to the a Seder. One way is narrow and particular and the other is broad and universal, just for Jews or for all people. What personally moves me most deeply are those subtle but recurrent reminders in the Haggadah of what I like to think of as the humanistic, universal, and deeply ethical values essential to Jewish identity. One occurs at the beginning of the Seder, where the Haggadah instructs those participating to break off a piece of matzah and recite these words: “This is the bread of affliction our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and share our Passover.” Another occurs later in the Seder when the ten plagues that God was said to have inflicted on the Egyptians to force them to liberate the enslaved Jews are recited: frogs, lice, hail, locusts, etc. As each plague is named, Seder participants are instructed to dip a finger into their cups of wine and spill a drop for each recited plague. The Haggadah explains: “Although the plagues successfully forced the Egyptians to let the Israelis go free, we do not rejoice in the suffering caused to our slave masters. On the contrary, we diminish the joy of our celebration by spilling a drop of wine from our cups as we recite each plague. This acknowledgment of the pain inflicted upon the Egyptians reminds us that our freedom should never be at the expense of any other.”
Jews like me who take special pleasure in the universal elements of the Seder are also deeply moved to reflect on how the Exodus story has served as an inspiration for oppressed people throughout history, as described eloquently by political philosopher Michael Walzer in his brilliant book “Exodus and Revolution” (1985). Walzer writes as follows: “The escape from bondage, the wilderness journey, the Sinai covenant, the promised land: all these loom in the literature of revolution. Indeed, revolution has often been imagined as an enactment of the Exodus and Exodus has often been imagined as a program of revolution. … Pharonic oppression, deliverance, Sinai … are still with us, powerful memories shaping our perceptions of the political world. … We still believe … what Exodus first taught … about the meaning and possibility of politics and about its proper form: first, that wherever you live, it is probably Egypt; second, that there is a better place, a world more attractive, a promised land; and, third, that the way to that land is through the wilderness. There is no way to get from here to there except by joining together and marching.”
And through the Seder Jews can and do re-commit each year to joining in marches everywhere from oppression to freedom and liberation. In Israel today, that means commitment to the Palestinian cause. This year in particular, as we mark the 75th year of the Nakba, and as we are seeing escalating violence on the part of the Israeli government towards Palestinians, I encourage my fellow Jewish community members to reflect on how we will personally dedicate ourselves to promoting freedom and liberation for the Palestinian community.