Time For Israeli Regime Change

If we are comfortable instigating regime changes in countries that oppress their inhabitants (and three wars suggest we are), then it’s time to take a cold hard look at Israel.

From the moment of its inception, Israel has systematically treated its Arab/Palestinian inhabitants as second class citizens without the same rights afforded to Jews.  First, was a systematic and escalating land grab.

— The Israeli government confiscated any “common land,” untitled ground upon which non-Jewish people lived.

— The Israeli government also took all lands owned by out of the state non-Jewish residents.  (There is an argument that Palestinians left their land at the behest of Arab countries just prior to the 1948 war.  While this is still under debate, there is no question about the Israeli threats that drove other Palestinians from their homes, land, and villages.  This was the land the government then declared to be “absentee owned.”

— If this wasn’t bad enough, the State confiscated territory Palestinians owned even if they were still in Israel but not literally home at the moment of seizure.  Too bad for those who happened to be visiting relatives or out for a cup of coffee.

— And, of course, there were no Israeli inhibitions about taking whatever they wanted by declaring the need for “military land.”

This was no helter skelter response to the 1948 war. It was simply the start of an ongoing and continuous process.  Take, for example, Israeli citizenship categories and the privileges-or lack thereof-that accompany them:

JEWS:
Privileged access to the material resources of the State as well as the social and welfare services of the State. Access to use 93 percent of pre-1967 Israel controlled by the Land Agency. Note that no one can actually purchase Agency land, which is leased to Jews only.

NON-JEWS/ARABS: 
Taxpayers and citizens with voting rights, but denied the right to utilize the 93 percent of pre-1967 Israel controlled by the Land Agency. Denied equal access to water, social and welfare services. Generally not permitted to serve in the military, which automatically excludes many social and welfare services available to those who complete compulsory military service (i.e., Jews).

NON-JEWS/ARABS:
About 200,000 taxpayers and citizens with voting rights, classified as “absentees.”  Denied the right to utilize property in 93 percent of pre-1967 Israel. Denied equal access to water, social and welfare services. Denied all rights to the property (lands, houses, corporations, shares, bank accounts, bank safes, etc.) they owned until confiscated by the Jewish state. This theft was made “legal” by the Absentees Property Law of 1950.

NON-JEWS/ARABS:
3,000,000 taxpayers without voting rights. Denied the right to utilize or buy property anywhere in pre-1967 Israel. No access to social and welfare services. Many (mostly those who once lived in pre-1967 Israel) have had all their property confiscated by the Jewish state without compensation and been forced to live in ghettos in two areas that resemble concentration camps.

This information above comes from Israel: An Apartheid State by Uri Davis, published in 1987, but still pretty accurate. Let’s look beyond the second class citizenship that the Israeli government permitted Palestinians during the early years of statehood.  Let’s look at now.

Palestinian suicide bombing, shelling of Israeli cities from Gaza and the West Bank are violent acts that have been, and ought to be, condemned and punished.  But the picture we’ve gotten from the mainstream media looks quite different if we compare some very ugly numbers:

Since September 29th, 2000 to the present, 124 Israeli children have been killed.  The number of Palestinian children killed during the same time period–1,452.

Since September 29th, 2000 to the present, 1,084 Israeli adults have been killed.  The number of Palestinian adults during the same period–6,430.

Since September 29th, 2000 to the present, 9,226 Israelis have been injured.  The number of Palestinians injured during the same period–45,041.

The current number of Israeli political prisoners or detainees is 1.  The current number of Palestinian political prisoners or detainees is 5,935.
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Since 1967 the number of Israeli homes that have been demolished for settlement reasons is 0.  Since 1967 the number of Palestinian homes demolished for settlement reasons–24,813.
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Israeli unemployment is presently 6.4 percent.

Palestinian unemployment rate in the West Bank–16.5 percent.

Palestinian unemployment rate in Gaza–40 percent.

Of the 40 towns in Israel with the highest unemployment rates, 36 are Arab towns.

According to the Central Bank of Israel statistics for 2003, salary averages for Arab workers were 29 percent lower than for Jewish workers.

U.S. government aid to Israel in 2009 was 8.2 million dollars of military aid per day.

U.S. government aid to Palestinians in 2009–0 dollars.

(These numbers and their primary sources can be found at http://www.ifamericansknew.org.)

Nothing frightens Israel more than the demographic reality of the booming Palestinian population.  And given Israel’s continued and adamant refusal to negotiate anything close to a fair two-state solution, (which would mean the immediateinternationalization of Jerusalem (a holy city to at least three religions), a return to the 1967 borders without any Jewish settlements on the Left Bank, and the cessation of the Gaza Blockade) what alternative will the Israeli government have other than driving the Palestinian Nation into Jordan proper?  Just one, genocide.

As a Jew who lost family in the Holocaust and was schooled in yeshivas from the 3rd to 12th grades, I’m appalled that mypeople, victims of that horror, have no qualms about imposing rigid apartheid on the Palestinian people. I feel sick that Israel has followed such destructive and self-destructive policies for over 60 years.  Policies that have turned their back on any justtwo-state solution, a solution I no longer believe feasible because of Israeli intransigence.  And that lack of belief has me staring what could be the most horrible era in all of Jewish history.  A time when a people, who had been systematically and murderously oppressed throughout our past, becomes an agent of genocide.

Why I Love Television, Part I

Now that laws and attitudes are changing, it’s one of the last “don’t ask, don’t tell” situations.  In fact, in my circles, it’s the love that dare not speak its name.  But I’m here to say it—loudly, proudly, to the world—I LOVE TELEVISION.  And this has been true my entire life.

Why?  First and foremost it keeps me company.  Even when I’m not paying any attention to what’s on, the background murmur reassures me I’m not dead.  And when I’m not paying attention, the TV doesn’t even complain—it’s selfless that way.

Television was my first “virtual” friend and, despite all these years together, we’ve never had an argument.  Sure, I sometimes get pissed.  Why isn’t there anything good on?  Why isn’t anything bad that I like on?  But, TV, as I like to call it for short, has figured that out.  Now you can easily record shows or go On Demand for those barren hours.  Hell, if you’re desperate there’s always a Law and Order variation somewhere.

The notion that it dumbs down our society?  Please.  Can our society get any dumber when 60-some percent of our country doesn’t believe in evolution?

No one trots out that this is stupid, empty entertainment shit when they bow down  to TV’s “Golden Years.”  Do folks really believe that Red Skelton raised IQs?  Or Jackie Gleason with the June Taylor Dancers?  Milton Berle?   Ok, Ernie Kovacs appealed to hipsters and The Honeymooners helped salvage marriages.

If those years were “Golden,” then today’s are Platinum. (Though a warmth lingers still for spotlights and “Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.”)

But really:

Has there ever been better satire than The Daily Show?

Has there ever been better performance art than The Colbert Report?

Did Playhouse 90 present better dramas than The Sopranos or In Treatment?

Is there anyone better than Rachel Maddow to make progressives feel smug?

Or Papa Bear O’Reilly to make Tea-baggers salivate?

Sorry, if people want to talk about the dumb down, television isn’t the place to start.  Not when programs like The Wire are being written and shown on a regular basis.  And I can’t imagine any comparison between Gunsmoke and Deadwood, which might very well be the best western ever presented in any form.  (And yeah, I’ve seen Red River, and all the Spaghetti’s.)  Tell me, humanitarians and Quincy Jones fans, whether “We Are The World” brought smile and tear.  Damn, even ads have their moments.  “I’d Like To Buy The World A Coke,” and China’s Olympic Opening Ceremony (also a commercial—albeit an expensive one) kept people watching.

So why do I feel so protective about my best friend?  Primarily because of where it’s placed in the cultural pecking order—down in the dirt as chicken feed.  And many, probably most, of those who tout the “higher” pecks spend more time watching it than any other medium.

I like watching the best that television has to offer, and also the worst. (Come out of the closet, people.)  Sure I get kick out of the emasculation of Bruce Jenner on Keeping Up with the KardashiansThe Iron Chefs (though I haven’t cooked a meal in 25 years), the weirdos who make the cut on Project Runway, and even the Dog Whisperer , though his magic does nothing for our cats.

And, of course sports.  Perhaps the only thing left in our country where the outcome isn’t preordained.  (I’m not really talking about cage fighting though there was a time when wrestling with those buffed, sweaty bodies…uh, better leave it there.)

But ultimately I’m just glad television is here, 24/7, 52 weeks a year with no chance of dying before me.  How can you have a safer relationship?  Despite no sex, with serious exceptions, very little meaning.  Don’t need that cigarette after NCIS–either of ’em.

Now understand, I really wouldn’t trade Sue or my kids for a television.  Trudat.

But I’m lucky—I don’t have to.  I can have it all, TV never says a jealous word.

(Eventually there will be a PART, 2)

Virtue is insufficient temptation.
-George Bernard Shaw

The Obama Conundrum

Years ago I remember a debate published between Michael Harrington and Christopher Lasch in The New York Review of Books about the efficacy of working inside the “system” or outside it to create social change.  (I might be wrong about the publication—it was a long time ago.)

Since that read, this debate has been a major part of my life as well as my political thinking.  Although my stint in Volunteers in Service to America (VISTA) was obviously a “within,” the program I helped developed was not–and, by design. The People’s School, a storefront project that worked with high-school dropouts to eighty year olds, staffed by volunteers, had nothing to do with the Chicago school system.  “Inside” or “out?” Both, really.  VISTA paid my salary.

I was offered a job in Boston at Project Place, which, at the time, was a worker run collective where paid workers and volunteers made collective decisions about defining and running our different projects.  And there were many: a counseling center, 24/7 telephone emergency hotline, runaway houses, legal aid, ambulance, and more.  All the services were free, which meant private and public fundraising.  “Inside” or “out?”  Also both.

I’ve always leaned toward  the “outside” argument and lived much of my life as an “outsider.”  Never felt easy in schools and have no high-school or college diplomas to show for that discomfort–though I attended both, even graduate school, for at least a while.

This headset continued when I decided to write detective fiction.  My main character, Matt Jacob, is definitely a person who works outside any system.  And while he is an exaggeration, the apple never falls far from the tree.  When Random House systematically tried to censure my work (another story for another time) I picked up my fourth book and lawyered out of my contract.  In fact, if it weren’t for the radical changes in publishing and the ability to totally control all aspects of my writing and (soon to be) E-books, I’d a never returned.

But for me, one of the largest outside/inside issue has been the ballot box.  I just could never buy the “better of two evils,” argument as an inducement to the polls.  Since 1972 and George McGovern I’ve never voted in another federal election.  Until 2008 when I not only voted, but worked for the Obama campaign.

Some of it was purely personal.  My father owned a tavern in a small town when I was growing up.  At that time, when a Black person walked into the bar and was served, immediately upon his departure, whoever was bartending had to make a show of breaking his glass.  Not because my father personally disliked Black people; he campaigned among this friends and voted for Obama in 2008.  If the glass had remained intact he would have been out of business the next day.  Literally.

So for me, the notion of a progressive Black having an opportunity to actually win the presidency was right up there with smashing the Berlin wall.

I knew Obama had emerged from Chicago politics and all that implies. But after Bush’s eight years, two wars, the disgusting Patriot Act, and a myriad of other repressive measures, I thought the country was ready for significant change and believed he thought the same.  He was going to be a difference maker.

I was wrong.  Although the Obama administration has accomplished things I believe in—a terribly flawed but better than nothing health care law, abolished Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, non-enforcement of The Defense of Marriage Act, some Wall Street and credit reforms, he simply hasn’t hurdled my “pass/fail” process of looking at life.

We now have three wars.  One without any discussion of an “end game.”  Guantanamo remains open and people held captive without any hope of due process.  And most importantly the nation’s wealth is still shoveled to the rich while the poor and middle class have their services and safety nets dismantled.

I understand that the first two years of his administration was hampered by “Blue Dog Democrats”.  I also understand that the Republicans now control the House.  But maybe it’s time for Barak Obama to read that debate between Michael Harrington and Christopher Lasch.  Despite being president, maybe it’s time to work “outside” the world of political compromise because leading from behind the pack and acquiescing to right wing blackmail just isn’t working.

Maybe it’s time to stop thinking about 2012.

HOW CAN YOU BE IN TWO PLACES AT ONCE IF YOU’RE NOWHERE AT ALL?
The Firesign Theatre

LA RINGRAZIO PER UNA BELLA CENA (Thank you for a wonderful dinner.)

It began as a dinner with new Italian friends and turned into a wormhole to my past coupled with a new way of saying hello to myself.

We had met only once before at a restaurant where a group had gathered to listen to a mutual friend’s band.  By chance, the four of us sat together and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.  We made noise about getting together in the future, but they were soon leaving for an extended trip to Sri Lanka and India so the future would be a long way off.

But they did call, invite, and we went.  The conversation over the delicious dinner was fast and furious.  At one point they lapsed into Italian–perhaps to make certain they both understood what was being said, or because they didn’t want us to understand.  Didn’t matter.  It was lovely to listen to the music of the language.

For some reason their lapse into lyrical Italian still danced in my head the next day.  The harder I tried to understand why, the fuzzier it became.  It was only that night, not really thinking about anything in particular, that a childhood memory flooded my mind.  Family scenes where parents or older relatives would, in a hairpin turn, speak Yiddish.  In those moments, there was no confusion.  They simply didn’t want me to know what they were saying.  But those hairpin turns, natural on their part, always drew a silent gut wrench without my ever knowing why.

I doubt I would have given those few short Italian sentences any thought at all without my hour a day, four days a week, eight year stint with Dr. J that began about twenty-five years ago.  A particular crisis drove me to the Boston Psychoanalytical Institute to become a test analysand, but the day to day work soon embraced multiple dimensions. Anyone who has done a psychoanalysis knows that once you jump down that rabbit hole….

Of course we spent a significant time on what had been an explosive childhood that had me living with other people.

Spent serious time on my first marriage, which had reduced itself to a protracted custody battle.

Spent time on being a single parent half the week for years.

Spent time working through issues that existed between me and my current domestic partner.

The list is legion.  I had more than enough issues, and that much time on your back makes it so.  But when the eight years were over, I had become significantly lighter emotionally through the discoveries gleaned by talking every day to someone who listened, supported, and was truly smart.

I also left believing the couch had cracked the door to my creative imagination.  Two fantasies I’d harbored since forever were writing and making music.  I walked out of Dr. J’s for the last time confident about constructing a brand new writing life.

Along with these accomplishments, I also left the couch hauling a suspicion that I’d never really learned an important lesson analysis was supposed to “teach.”  I simply hadn’t found a method of diving into my subconscious.  I did think about what I thought or felt, though it was through an active process, driven by overt consideration or focused reflection.  Similar to having someone confront or ask pointed questions.  However, this nag was left behind as I powered up my “creative imagination” to build my Matt Jacob writing career.  Still, I’ve always been jealous of people–Sasha Cohen, Jon Stewart and, of course, Robin Williams–who are seemingly able to dip into their down below at will.

But that night, lying in bed, relaxed and open to possibilities, age, experience, and a lack of defensiveness delivered the association between the Italian talk and Yiddish memories.  Long ago that gut wrench had been the only part of the iceberg that registered.  The difficulties of my childhood, the exclusion, the difference between myself and my family, the alienation within my own home, and the ugly bitter batterings finally rose from beneath the surface.  Half a century later I understand what that Yiddish represented.

Ahh, the subconscious.  I guess I get what it takes to let the game come to you.  Not active pursuit, but a headspace that’s vulnerable enough to let it happen.

So, thank you, Alesandro and Camilla, for a great dinner.  And a special thanks to Dr. J.  Sometimes it takes a really, really long time for understanding to sink into an old dog’s head.  Even when the information is already there.

Love Me, I’m A Liberal

Maybe it began because I worked a telephone bank for Barack Obama. Or, perhaps it started when the ACLU emailed a request to join. They’re big on the First Amendment and so am I.  It seems to me the right of skin-headed Nazi’s to march is a fair trade for the right to present art that is frequently attacked and banned by the Neanderthals who pock-mark the country.

So I dues up, get my card, sign their petitions.

Then came the email from People For The American Way.  Hey, anyone who created Archie Bunker and Meathead and actually mobilizes against the Wing-nuts who want to hurtle the country back to the 18th century I gotta support.

So I join and sign their petitions.

What can you say about Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International other than they shine light upon some of the most horrific abuses throughout the world.

More dues, more petitions.

I figure I’m set–spent my charity budget and feel pretty righteous

But it ain’t over.  Slow and steady, email by email, link by link, the requests to sign this and that and the other pile heavy into my inbox.

How do I turn down requests by organizations who protect a woman’s right to choose?

I sign.

How do I turn down Mayors Against Guns when 34 people a day, every day, get shot?

I sign.

How do I turn down environmental groups when I believe in climate change and have worked closely with laborers who have died from the toxicity in their plants?

I sign.

Well, by this time, I’m not feeling all that righteous.  Hell, now when I click a link I don’t even have to fill in blank boxes.  They know me.

As a result, I get a stream of form letters from senators and congressmen thanking me for taking the time to express my views.  And a promise to keep my ideas in mind when relevant legislation lands on the floor.  To absolutely no avail.  Virtually every issue I’ve sign up for loses when it hits the House or Senate.  So much for their minds and my signatures.

But signing has become crack.  I can’t stop.  I’m fucking signing petitions to protect polar bears.  Why? The closest I’ll ever get to one will be on the NatGeo channel.  But I think it through.  Palin and her motley crew must be behind this bear slaughter.

I sign.

I’m signing petitions against virtual fences, for new filibuster rules, against budget cuts, for the recall of state politicians in states that aren’t mine.  I’m signing save  bowhead and beluga whales and walruses.  I wouldn’t know a beluga if one skateboarded down my block and chomped on my legs. (Isn’t it actually caviar?)

So, for sure, I sign.

I’m so devoted to petitions that more often than not I think I’m the president signing executive orders.  But then I look around and see that none of my orders command any respect.  Just the opposite.  The country is sliding back in time and all I see are wars, poverty, loss of rights, worse racial inequality, and right-wing Jihadists running the show.

Guess it’s time to admit the obvious.  If this is how high my “freak flag flies,” I owe an apology to David Crosby.  Somewhere along the line, I cut my hair.

From error to error, one discovers the entire truth.
-Sigmund Freud