I plan to move to Israel sometime during the next two years because I’m tired of doing what I’m about to do: criticize Israeli policy while sitting in America.
I support the right of every Jew to critique and analyze the actions of the Jewish state–regardless of where they live, but I feel the need to invest myself more. For better or worse, I care about what happens in Israel, and to Israel, more than I do about US policy or any other political or social issue. A lot of what’s happening there now scares me, so I’m going to do everything I can to change that. I want to take Zionism back.
And yet, those things that I want to change also propel my most serious doubts about making aliyah. Do I really want to live in a country where a fundamentalist religious group holds heavy sway over the government? Do I want to live under a government that’s perpetuating the occupation of almost 3 million people? Do I want to take part in a society that treats one segment of the population as second-class citizens? Do I want non-Jewish immigrants to my country to have to swear a loyalty oath to a Jewish state, a measure the Israeli cabinet approved this week?
The past several years, and the past year and a half in particular, have seen the extremes of Israeli society gain strength while the moderate population of the country, and especially the left, stands in inept silence. The ultra-Orthodox minority has ever-more clout in government, peace negotiations are on their last legs and Avigdor Liberman–a racist extremist who believes neither in peace nor in coexistence–is wagging Netanyahu’s dog. Meanwhile, Israel edges ever-closer to being a pariah state, the Palestinians remain without civic rights under a military occupation and the democratic foundations of the state look shakier than ever. The loyalty oath is but the latest example of this.
I want to be there so I can change things, so I can protest, write articles, promote my ideals and do whatever else I can to put the country back on track. But as I see this happening, I must ask myself whether, by the time I get there, anything I do will matter.
A friend of mine–who has also considered aliyah–put it this way: “I want to be there to bolster the middle line, but do I want to be there when the middle line falls?”
That line is faltering and the extremists are taking charge. I can’t support Israel as unequivocally as my parents and grandparents do, but I want to. I want to live in an Israel that I’m proud of. I want to create a state that lives up to my ideals. And if the middle line does fall, and all we’re left with is a perversion of the Israel we dreamed of, I want to know that I was there–that no matter what, I was there.
