Embarrassed, Yet Proud to be Jewish

Friday was Purim, reading the Book of Esther, children in costumes, parties and public celebrations. No comment on my personal thoughts about the holiday. Last year, in comparison to previous years, the absence of costume sales at streetside booths, in supermarkets, and at stalls in shopping malls. Children wore costumes to school, and some municipalities held small events but not the usual parades. Everything was toned down then, five months after October 7, because celebration was hardly suited to the public mood. Reading the megillah, the Book of Esther was perfunctory, a religious obligation for some. This year, that absence of costumes for sale in every public space went unnoticed. It wasn’t in contrast to last year. Purim 17 months after October 7 looked similar to Purim 5 months after October 7.

Despite the ceasefire. Despite resilience. The unforgettable – the soldiers and civilians who lost their lives since October 7, 2023, because of the conflict. Their personal biographies are told several times daily like public service messages on the radio. Purim, no exception.

The day before Purim, at the end of a radio interview with Jon Polin, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, z”l’s father, he was asked how Rachel is doing and if they are going through tough times. He said, “Some days are hard, some days are harder.” He concluded, “Purim is here, it’s a month until Passover, the Festival of Freedom. How can it be the second Passover with hostages still in Gaza?” There are loose strings of hope and fervent Israeli demonstrations that all hostages, dead and alive, will be freed from Hamas captivity by Passover.

Recent surveys indicate over two-thirds of the Israeli population support bringing the hostages home as the highest national priority. Over two-thirds of the population recognize bringing all the hostages home is the only way for Israeli society to begin its post-October 7 healing process. The government has other priorities.

Jewish extremist settlers raid Palestinian villages on the West Bank routinely, steeling sheep last Friday, and an item that flashed across my computer screen about the incident Thursday night near Nablus. Settlers burned homes and motor vehicles. No arrests. No arrests. Algorithms. One family member clinging to the image of the better Jew, asks how I always see notifications about what Jews did wrong. I want to know what interest is served by Israeli media making only fleeting mention of such cases if at all? No settlers arrested. But I can anticipate the reaction of that family member justifying arbitrary arrests and violent retaliation when Palestinians attack Jewish settlements.

In a Zoom meeting with a handful of UK Jews and Christians committed to ending our conflicts, a Palestinian, Christian colleague from East Jerusalem shared his perspective on the current situation. He lost 18 relatives in Gaza during an Israeli attack. He commented that he is happy to see Israeli hostages returning and largely looking reasonably healthy. In that moment, I felt privileged to work with him. Empathy, acknowledging pain of the other is not easy amidst this war – banal for me to say.

Complemented by Thursday’s news item about the UN Human Rights Council accusing Israel of sexual violence as a war strategy. My thoughts on the G-word, ethnic cleansing and painful thoughts about Israeli practices in Gaza keep me awake at night. But I am enraged: charging Israel with using sexual violence as a war strategy. I am not naïve. Regretfully, painfully, I recognize there must be incidents of sexual violence in wars. If I choose to disbelieve stories of such incidents, I can’t expect others to believe stories of Hamas’s sexual violence against Israelis on October 7. But if in June 2024, a UN Human Rights Council report could only acknowledge “reasonable grounds” to believe sexual violence occurred during the October 7 attacks, then I have reasonable grounds to disregard their claims against Israel. Reasonable grounds to recognize anti-Semitic, international institutions do not serve the interests of human rights.

I synthesize my daily experiences vis a vis my identity with its dynamic, in a defined space, on one leg, alternating to the other, on both feet, staying in that tiny space synthesizing reality. Sometimes observing and feeling the comforts of being in a majority in one microcosm and sometimes comforted by being in a minority in another microcosm, synthesizing. Public aspects of my identity, national aspects – with dual citizenship – and Jewish aspects. Components of my identity bearing shame, embarrassment. Still, proud to be Jewish. Not proud to be associated with all Jews. Proud to be part of a tradition that studies and analyzes, because I think that gives me hope, despite my despair, that something better will emerge, and that democratic, liberal values will connect to the set of Jewish values needed to overcome the crises of our societies.

Harriet Gimpel, March 15, 2025