Criminalizing books and the concern for our future
I opened my email early in the day, and one subject line immediately caught my eye. It said, “Urgent matter needs your attention.” I clicked without hesitation and read in detail about the Israeli police’s raid on the Educational Bookshop and the arrest of its owners in East Jerusalem.
As provost of The Jewish Theological Seminary and interim dean of its William Davidson Graduate School of Jewish Education, I was appalled to read about an attack on a bookshop. For a people whose books have been censored and burned over the centuries, this form of violence is utterly horrifying. Jews, the People of the Book, know all too well the devastation of censorship and brutality. From the burning of the Talmud in the 13th century to the banning of Jewish books in the Soviet Union, efforts to criminalize books should be deeply concerning to Jews across the political spectrum. As an institution of higher education charged with educating the next generation of Jewish leaders, we are very worried about burning books, and the ideas contained within them, into the enemies. Actions like these deprive everyone of the learning opportunities needed to understand both personal and global issues. Given the Jewish people’s deep historical connection to books as disseminators of knowledge, there is no question that we should all be equally troubled by these recent events.
For JTS, the raid on the Educational Bookshop holds particular resonance given the role that it has played in the education of our students. For well over a decade, the Educational Bookshop was an essential part of The William Davidson School’s Israel-based programs, Visions and Voices and Kesher Hadash. Our graduate students visited the Educational Bookshop and met with its owner, Mahmoud Muna. Over coffee, tea, and cakes, our students participated in inspiring conversations with Mahmoud, who introduced them to his ideas about building bridges between Jews and Arabs. A key part of this bridge-building was a mutual appreciation for the written word. Mahmoud spoke from the heart, sharing his personal reflections and concerns, but was always open to hearing, recognizing, and honoring the Israeli and Jewish story. Our students left those meetings with a deeper understanding and a more insightful perspective, thanks to Mahmoud.
It wasn’t just students who appreciated Mahmoud. Many JTS faculty members, whose own books lined the shelves, forged meaningful connections with him. Rabbi Gordon Tucker, JTS’s Vice Chancellor for Religious Life and Engagement, who has visited and patronized the store, recalled how gracious the employees were, noting that they were “always very interested in hearing angles other than theirs on the conflict.” Dr. Alex Sinclair, an Israeli living in Modiin who ran The William Davidson School’s Israel programs described Mahmoud as “a thoughtful, engaging speaker—never one to pull his punches—always leaving his audience moved. He is a peace-loving, open-minded, dialogue-seeking person.”
The end of this story is still unwritten. It is my fervent hope that books and the ideas they represent remain topics of debate and not of censorship. May our JTS students and others once again visit the Educational Bookshop, learn from Mahmoud, and share in the joy of conversation over cake.