How To Tell Your Story
Golda Meir had just arrived in Ghana in 1957. The occasion was the First All-African People’s Congress, with representatives from countries across the continent. Friction greeted her entrance into the room. The representative from Algeria demanded to know how Israel could be purchasing arms from France, a country bent on undermining African self-determination. (Stand-Up Nation, P. 22)
Golda took in the tense scene. Lit a cigarette. Ignored the cold stares and calmly explained. “Our neighbors are out to destroy us with arms they receive free of charge from the Soviet Union and for very little money from other sources. The one and only country in the world that is ready – for hard currency, and a lot of it – to sell us some of the arms we need in order to protect ourselves is France.” She didn’t allow for a reply. Going on about Israel’s predicament, before bluntly concluding, “If de Gaulle were the devil himself, I would regard it as the duty of my government to buy arms from the one and only source available to us. And now let me ask you a question. If you were in that position, what would you do?”
What impresses me most about how Golda earned the respect of the delegates, who then turned their subject to state-building, is her approach. It’s clear. Firm. Fervent. And then she finishes by turning a question onto them.
This week’s portion of Torah tells our foundational story. Most impressively, it does so by inventing the Passover Seder which turns the Festive meal into a classroom. A learning setting, whose main course is questions. In response to the question “What’s all this mean?” we’re taught to reply, “with a mighty hand God brought us forth from Egyptian bondage” (Ex. 13:14). That is, God’s might is meant to inspire ours (Netziv).
Perhaps a good question is, in and of itself, a source of formative might and strength.
It’s always a good idea to audit your ratio of statements to questions. When you’re put in a tight spot, it’s an even better idea to finish strong with a question. Learning may or may not follow. But you’ll have told your story calmly, clearly, firmly, fervently, and faithfully.