Dishonorable action in Philadelphia
The big Jewish news from Pennsylvania …
About 200 students at Cheltenham High School on the outskirts of Philadelphia, about 14 percent of the school’s enrollment, recently petitioned for its alumni hall of fame to eject Benjamin Netanyahu.
Netanyahu, a native of Tel Aviv, twice attended the prestigious public high school in the 1950s and 1960s, while his father taught at nearby Dropsie College.
Now Israel’s longest-serving prime minister, better-known as Bibi, Netanyahu is arguably one of the most prominent graduates of the school, whose ranks include his older brother Yoni (also in the hall of fame), an IDF officer who died leading Israel’s successful rescue mission at Uganda’s Entebbe airport in 1976; baseball Hall of Fame superstar Reggie Jackson; and radio talk-show host Mark Levin.
The students’ complaint: citing Netanyahu’s criminal indictment and arrest warrant issued by the International Criminal Court for alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity in Gaza, they stated that when they “see these alumni on the wall of fame” as they “walk past every day … we understand that these are people we should look up to, and … strive to be like … one day. As such, we feel it is not right for him to continue to be recognized in our school.”
Said Brian Scriven. Cheltenham’s superintendent: “We understand that this is a topic of deep concern to some members of our diverse school community as well as the broader public. Given the complexities involved and the heightened public discourse, we must proceed in a deliberate manner.”
In other words, no immediate decision. On the school’s website last week: no mention of the brewing controversy. But Netanyahu’s photo was still featured.
The alumni association, if it accedes to the students’ demands – the latest in a series of “progressive”-inspired imbroglios in this country that hold a negative view of Israel or its leaders– would deprive Netanyahu of a form of public recognition.
My reaction, as an unbridled lover of Israel but as someone with decidedly mixed feelings about how Netanyahu has led the country:
Big deal! So what? Who cares? What difference would removal of Netanyahu’s picture from the school’s wall of fame make?
And, who are these punks to judge if a graduate’s likeness – whether or not someone is controversial or not – belongs in their midst?
On the other hand …
Hundreds of thousands of Israelis take to the streets on a weekly basis to protest Netanyahu’s actions and performance in office, upset by his attempts to usurp court prerogatives, his role in failing to head off the October 7 terror attacks, or his conduct of subsequent hostage negotiations. The people who live in Israel are entitled to rally against, or for, their prime minister. That is their right. Their homes and futures are there. They pay taxes there. They vote in the country’s elections. They are affected by what Bibi does. They, largely, serve in the army. They risk terrorist attacks when they take buses or walk on the streets.
Their opinions matter.
And the people, Jews (I include myself in this group) and non-Jews who live safely, unaffected, in the Diaspora, have, literally, no skin in the game.
Their opinions do not matter.
But, of course, as self-entitled, self-important members of a generation who reflexively take positions that blame Israel and excuse Israel’s enemies for any offense, the high school students unsurprisingly, unashamedly express their immature opinions.
As if a photograph on the wall of some high school really matters.
The issue at hand is honor. Or dishonor.
The public display of a person’s photo is one way that some parts of society choose to bestow honor. So is a knighthood. Or military medals. Or a star on a Hollywood sidewalk. Or a statue. Or election to the Hall of Fame of some sport (consider the controversy over accused murderer O.J. Simpson continued inclusion in pro football’s HOF or Pete Rose’s exclusion from baseball’s). Or retiring a star player’s uniform number. Or a university’s honorary degree. Or a fete one night at the Kennedy Center in Washington. Or a medal on a ribbon placed by the president around the neck of a man or woman.
The list goes on; there are as many ways of showing – or removing – honor as there are social and cultural and military and educational institutions in this country or any country.
All physical honors.
These are not the Jewish way. In our community, especially the traditional parts of it, signs of kavod (the Hebrew term means weighty respect, glory or importance) include:
- Treating a person as a creation in G-d’s image.
- Listening when he or she is speaking.
- Thinking of someone’s needs before your own.
- Visiting someone, if sick.
- Emulating the person’s behavior.
- Naming a child in the memory of a loved one.
- Dedicating a book in someone’s name.
- Giving someone an aliyah to the Torah in shul.
- Naming a school or synagogue or some other institution in someone’s memory.
- Following the advice of a rabbi or respected scholar.
Spiritual honors.
Wrote Rabbi Jacob Immanuel Schochet on chabad.org, in the context of honoring one’s parents, “One must provide them with food and drink, clothing and garments, to conduct them home and take them out, and rise before them. And one must provide them with all their needs cheerfully … “
And not sit in a parent’s chair.
That’s honor.
The late, Austria-Hungary-born/Lower East Side-raised Harry Golden (nee Hershel Goldhurst), long-time iconoclastic editor of the “Carolina Israelite” newspaper and several best-selling books about Jewish life in the United States, declared (this is a paraphrase from memory; the exact quote is difficult to track down) that at some point in his prolific career his words had been quoted in the Congressional Record more than any other writer’s or speaker’s, and while that was “an empty honor, an empty honor is better than none at all.”
In other words, pooh-pooh on honor.
Megillas Esther (Chapter 6) offers a timeless lesson on the folly of temporal honor.
King Ahasuerus, wishing to pay back Mordecai for a long-forgotten life-saving act, summons Haman, asking:
What should be done for a man whom the king desires to honor?
Haman, of course, thinks the king has him in mind, and suggests:
let royal garb which the king has worn be brought, and a horse on which the king has ridden and on whose head a royal diadem has been set; and let the attire and the horse be put in the charge of one of the king’s noble courtiers. And let the man whom the king desires to honor be attired and paraded on the horse through the city square …
Which Haman thought was honor. All of which was done, grudgingly by him, for Mordecai. Which is not Mordecai’s ultimate honor – his reputation since the time of ancient Persia is.
Unlike Haman, Mordecai was not interested in seeking honor. He saw the bigger, long-range picture.
Which the students at Cheltenham High School don’t.
How important is someone’s picture in the halls of a high school?
Common sense, and reality, dictate that earthly honors – sought, accepted, or denied – are essentially meaningless. The only thing that endures is reputation.
History will judge the reputation of Netanyahu. Some high school students won’t. By attempting to remove his photograph, they – like other small-minded progressives who engage in anti-Israel measures – are judging themselves.
The lesson of their take-down-Bibi’s-photo demand is their superficiality, and the superficiality of society’s honors.
The media have not reported the feelings of Netanyahu about the threat to remove his likeness from his half-century-ago high school alma mater. As the leader of a nation at war, he certainly has more-pressing matters with which to deal. And by their foolish behavior, the 200 Cheltenham students have made clear on whose side in the Israel-Hamas war their sympathies lie.
Unlike the Israelis who have protested the decisions of Netanyahu and demanded his resignation from office, and have honored the role of free speech and public protest in the Jewish state, these Cheltenham teenagers are only dishonoring themselves, and, if successful, their school’s reputation.
