Can’t we do better than this Jerusalem Day hatred and violence?

It’s early afternoon and unseasonably hot. Business in the little store you operate has been slow, though that’s been true most days since the war began. Suddenly you hear shouts, pounding feet. You look up just as dozens of young people descend upon your shop and start grabbing things off your shelves, hurtling them to the ground, ripping things off the walls, all while shouting and cursing you, your people. An old woman happens to walk by just then and they threaten, yell and push her. By the time the mob departs, everything is shattered. It is of little comfort to know that your store wasn’t the only target, but one of many.

This is not just an imagined scenario, but just one example of the type of violence and hatred which took place over the course of the Jerusalem Day celebrations this week. The reports are numerous and stomach-churning. Of merchants harassed and stores vandalized. Of chants and cheers and songs about death and burning. Of passersby threatened, spat upon, pushed and thrown to the ground, physically attacked. Of families cowering in their homes behind locked doors.

Since nationality is in fact central to the events, it’s relevant to specify. The victims are generally Arab, usually East Jerusalem Palestinians going about their daily business. The attackers are Israeli Jews, generally religious, taking part in the Jerusalem Day Flag March through the Old City. Other victims of the violence included (Jewish and non-Jewish) journalists and photographers recording these events; citizens who came to try to prevent harm; and sometimes the police while trying to do their job and protect people.

I’ve come to dread Jerusalem Day. I’ve seen from up close how the violence spirals out of control. Every year groups of students and adults traipse through my Jerusalem residential neighborhood as part of the day’s revelries and learning. Some are noisy, as large groups tend to be, but nothing more than that. Other times I and my neighbors have witnessed the hateful chants and provocations, including one year when it spiraled into a full-fledged destructive riot.

When you live in Jerusalem you are excruciatingly attuned to the ways that events in Jerusalem, the West Bank, Gaza and the region are interconnected and require sensitive, responsible handling. A violent and hateful spirit has become increasingly a part of Jerusalem Day. We overlook it at our peril. Is this really something we can stay blind, resigned or indifferent to?

We can’t say that the rhetoric or violence of this Jerusalem Day was surprising. It has taken place every year for years now, and it’s only getting worse.

We can’t say it’s just a few bad apples. Hundreds, if not thousands, take part energetically, brazenly, repeatedly in the hateful songs, chants and the violence. With tens of thousands of celebrants participating in the event, I’m sure many are witnesses.

We can’t say it lacks government support. Municipal and state funding enables the Jerusalem Day festivities, and government officials like National Security Minister Itamar Ben Gvir encouraged the crowds.

We can’t say it’s legal. In 2015 when petitioners asked the Supreme Court to re-route the Jerusalem Day Flag March so that it not go through the Muslim Quarter in the Old City, the judges ruled, albeit “with heavy hearts”, that there were no legal grounds to demand that organizers change the route. But they did issue strict institutions that the police have zero tolerance for ‘death to Arabs’ chants; that zero tolerance should include arrests and indictments, and kicking out yeshiva students involved in such violence. And of course actual physical violence against people or property is against the law.

Obviously, for a law to have meaning, it must be enforced. By all accounts, there are genuine police efforts to protect and intervene, including at great personal risk, and some arrests; and also many incidents that seem to go unchecked, unpunished and ignored by police. This may not be surprising, given that Jerusalem’s chief of police seemed to belittle the scope and gravity of the incidents.

Jerusalem Day presents a gaping chasm between our ideals and reality. Ideals grounded in pride and love of Jerusalem, Jewish tradition and heritage, and existential relief at having overcome the threats in 1967. And a reality showing a zealous embrace of dark brutality which poses deep moral questions and also flies in the face of our pragmatic self-interest.

At least there are those who work hard every year to try to prevent, curtail or condemn this negative behavior, and to exemplify other more positive ways to approach Jerusalem Day. One organization sent a letter to heads of religious schools in Jerusalem asking them to work with their students around appropriate behavior, which was, I’m told, well-received and attended to by at least some; followed later by a discussion with school principals and educational activists. There were several events held throughout Jerusalem Day exemplifying how to celebrate a love of Jerusalem without it being accompanied by this sort of hate.

Perhaps most courageously because of the risk to their own safety were the Standing Together volunteers serving as a humanitarian guard escorting and sometimes actually intervening at the moment of violence. This sort of action is perhaps the most critical to try to prevent harm in the moment, putting intention and values into action in ways that can make a critical difference. I am ashamed to confess that, having seen how violent it can be, I am afraid to join them.

A friend participated in an interfaith march with hundreds walking together through downtown Jerusalem a few days after Jerusalem Day march. “I was so aware of how much bravery it takes to do something as pure and simple as walking for peace in Jerusalem in times like this,” she shared with me. “Baruch hashem – thankfully – nothing happened.” She found it a powerful way to embody an alternative.

These are just a few examples, each important steps, even as it’s clear that more is needed to effectively challenge and change what has become a norm.

The thing is, addressing these issues should and could be pretty straightforward. And there are many key actors – parents, principals, police, politicians and the general public – who could take meaningful action to help change this reality. Focused educational efforts and public messaging leading up Jerusalem Day could shape expectations and attitudes about what is and isn’t acceptable behavior. Preventative measures could be taken before and during the day’s events by event organizers and by police. Consistent and immediate police responses to uphold the law and provide safety for everyone. Treat violators equally. Treat victims equally.

City mayors can make a difference. Former Jerusalem Mayor Teddy Kollek apparently convened a committee consisting of the heads of the city’s different religious communities, the police and other key officials, which met on a monthly basis to discuss upcoming holidays and events and consider what needed to be done to predict, pre-empt, and problem-solve so that all might go smoothly. We should expect Jerusalem’s Mayor to make tackling this issue a high priority.

Of course it’s clear that the general political will to challenge this trend has been lacking for years; and that there’s insufficient public pressure. So perhaps consider a different context, that of the many protests around the world against Israel and Jews, or Jewish targets, characterized by hateful rhetoric and calls endorsing, implicitly or otherwise, violence. Fears that it’s just a matter of time before these concoctions of words, hate and passion spiral recklessly into actual physical harm to real people, are well-founded, as history and, most recently, Sarah Milgrim and Yaron Lischinsky’s tragic deaths have shown. If we expect others to not turn a blind eye to this, can we really continue to turn a blind eye when it happens in Israel’s ancient-modern capital under a blazing sun and the full view of all? Ignoring it is passively endorsing it.

This rhetoric and violence are not worthy of this city, the country or many core tradition, values and expectations. We must rise to this challenge.