More than 60 years later, Langston Hughes’ ‘Black Nativity’ is a pillar of African American theater

(The Conversation) — ‘Black Nativity’ may be different each time you see it − and that’s exactly what the playwright had in mind.

Students at Jackson State University in Mississippi present their annual production of 'Black Nativity' in 2017.

 (Charles A. Smith/Jackson State University/Historically Black Colleges & Universities via Getty Images)

Dominic Taylor
December 23, 2024


(The Conversation) — During the end of every calendar year, a particular holiday performance pops up in African American communities and cultural centers across the nation. “Black Nativity” is a cherished cultural tradition to some and completely unknown to others.

One wonderful yet confounding thing about this show is that depending on where you see it, you will see significantly different productions – from Intiman Theatre in Seattle to Penumbra Theatre in St. Paul or the National Center of Afro-American Artists in Boston.

This might seem counterintuitive, but it is exactly what was intended by the author: Langston Hughes.


The poet’s Christmas play was first produced in 1961.
Charles A. Smith/Jackson State University/Historically Black Colleges & Universities via Getty Images

1 artist, 2 movements

Hughes, a noted although still underappreciated writer, is often associated with the Harlem Renaissance just after World War I, which spurred the growth of jazz. This era – when he penned some of his most famous poems, such as “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” – was the first African American arts movement since Emancipation.

But Hughes is one of a handful of artists whose work spanned both the Harlem Renaissance and the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s and ’70s, which partnered with the modern Civil Rights Movement. In 1961, when Hughes created “Black Nativity,” the Black Arts Movement was still in its infancy, but its early ethos was in the air.

Back in the 1920s, civil rights leader W.E.B. DuBois developed the Krigwa Players, a group that originated in Harlem but had satellite organizations in Cleveland, Baltimore, Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. The objectives of the Krigwa Players, published in the NAACP’s Crisis magazine, were that African American communities create art “for us,” “by us,” “about us” and “near us.” As Black consciousness grew and evolved in the 1960s, however, Black artists wanted to go beyond that criteria. They wanted to place African American life in all corners of existence, including ideas that were imposed on Black culture and transforming them to empower Black people.

Hughes’ desire to write “Black Nativity” was his attempt to reclaim the story of Jesus’ birth for African Americans – to show the son of God, the ultimate salvation, emerging from the Black community. American notions of Jesus were almost always depicted as white, with just a few exceptions. Hughes’ play, on the other hand, called for an entirely Black cast, including the mother and father of Jesus.

Dancer Cristyne Lawson, who performed in a London production of ‘Black Nativity’ in 1962.
Daily Express/Pictorial Parade/Archive Photos/Getty Images

Freedom and flexibility

Moving people from the margins of a story to the center can prompt artists to find more creative forms. What Hughes developed was less like a simple, straightforward narrative and more like jazz, with improvisation at its center.

The playwright wanted to make a production with elasticity: a ritual with a basic frame, but plenty of flexibility. Hughes started to experiment with this ritual form in his 1938 play “Don’t You Want to Be Free?” performed by the Harlem Suitcase Theater. The play used African American history as a frame, calling to unite poor Black and white people to fight the exploitation of the rich.

“Black Nativity,” originally titled “Wasn’t That a Mighty Day,” is rooted in gospel music. The 27 songs in the original text serve as a sonic framing tool. It was to have a large choir – 160 singers strong, in the first production – as well as a narrator, and two dancers to embody Mary and Joseph. The script calls for “no set (only a platform of various levels,) a star and a place for a manger.”

A production of ‘Black Nativity’ in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, in 1962.
Eric Koch/Dutch National Archives via Wikimedia Commons

Hughes was an appreciator of modern dance and enlisted two of the best to hold the roles of Joseph and Mary: Alvin Ailey and Carmen de Lavallade. Yes, that Alvin Ailey, who went on to found one of the country’s most famous dance ensembles.

By all accounts, the dances that Ailey and de Lavallade constructed were brilliant – but were never seen by the public. The pair quit the show last-minute and were replaced by new dancers who could not use their choreography.

My former professor, the late George Houston Bass, was once Hughes’ secretary. Bass told me that Ailey and de Lavallade left in dispute over the title, which Hughes wanted to change to “Black Nativity.”

Ailey and de Lavallade, however, thought that “Wasn’t That a Might Day” was more inclusive. The dancers felt the show told the story of Jesus, and there was no need to focus on the emphasis on race – not entirely different from debates today. Should we emphasize that Barack Obama was a Black president, or a president who happened to be Black?
‘Black Nativity’ in the 21st century

I directed “Black Nativity” for Penumbra Theatre for a few years, starting in 2008, partnering with the Twin Cities’ TU Dance company.

Lou Bellamy, the founder and artistic director of the theater, told me there were audience members who came back every year. It was a tradition for many families originally from the Twin Cities to come from the four corners of the earth to see “Black Nativity” and visit their relatives – in that order of importance.

He went on to tell me that the audiences liked when we tweaked the show, but we had to keep the frame – including many of the gospel classics from the original, such as “Go Tell It On the Mountain.”

Marion Willis, playing Joseph, and Karah Abiog, playing Mary, rehearse for a Penumbra Theatre Company production of ‘Black Nativity’ in 2000.
David Brewster/Star Tribune via Getty Images

In the original text of the play, the narrator told the story of Joseph traveling to Bethlehem with his pregnant wife, because Emperor Caesar Augustus had required that everyone be taxed. It starts with Mary and Joseph looking for a room.

In my version, the interior narrative centers on an upper-middle-class Black family that is visited by a stranger who helps them find the true meaning of Christmas. Mary and Joseph are a truly extended part of the family who show up with the stranger and need a place for the holidays. They are not left to a manger, but brought into a home – prompting the audience to reexamine how to welcome the Lord into their homes and hearts.

Bellamy, the artistic director, also said that I had a responsibility to the theater’s bottom line. He pulled out a spreadsheet and showed me the proceeds of the previous year’s mounting. I believe Bellamy’s quote to me was, “I don’t care if you put the devil in the middle of it. We have to make this number.”

Financially, Hughes’ ritual play has become fuel for African American cultural institutions to maintain themselves. Penumbra, for example, has been an anchor in the Rondo neighborhood of St. Paul for almost half a century. “Black Nativity” is also an anchor for the National Center of Afro-American Artists, which has produced its own version since 1968; Karamu House in Cleveland; the Black Theatre Troupe in Phoenix; and many more.

The flexibility of this play and the resilience of these institutions is why “Black Nativity” is still here – and will stay for a long time. Hughes’ vision allows for African American theaters as old as Karamu House, the nation’s oldest, or the newest playhouse today to make their own “Joy to the World.”

(Dominic Taylor, Acting Chair of Theater, School of Theater, Film and Television, University of California, Los Angeles. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Religion News Service.)


The Conversation religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The Conversation is solely responsible for this content.

Kwanzaa spirit comes to life at Harlem's mythic Apollo Theather

NEW YORK (RNS) — Celebrated from Dec. 26 to Jan. 1, Kwanzaa is centered on seven principles that champion the uplifting of the Black community.

Dancers perform “Black West,” a new segment of “Kwanzaa: A Regeneration Celebration” at the Apollo Theater in New York, Dec. 21, 2024. (Photo by Shahar Azran/The Apollo)
Fiona André
December 24, 2024

NEW YORK (RNS) – Harlem’s Apollo Theater presented the 17th edition of its annual Kwanzaa spectacle, “A Regeneration Celebration,” on Saturday (Dec. 21), a two-hour dance performance celebrating Black identity and bringing to life the spirit of the holiday based on Black American history and culture.

The Apollo’s Kwanzaa celebration returned with an updated show from the award-winning Harlem troupe Forces of Nature Dance Theatre. The spectacle, the largest Kwanzaa celebration in New York, evokes the ideas and rituals of African spirituality to the beat of African drums.

“What we do on Kwanzaa is we give a chance to people to see who we are. Kwanzaa is the spirit of Africa born here in America,” said Forces of Nature’s co-founder, Olabamidele Hart-Husbands, who hosted the show.

Created in 1966 by Africana studies professor and civil rights activist Maulana Ndabezitha Karenga, Kwanzaa was designed as a “Black alternative to Christmas” and is estimated to be observed by 3% of Americans.

Celebrated from Dec. 26 to Jan. 1, Kwanzaa is focused on seven principles, or nguzo saba in Swahili, aimed at uplifting the Black community: umoja (unity), ujima (collective work and responsibility), kujichagulia (self-determination), ujamaa (cooperative economics), kuumba (creativity), nia (purpose) and Imani (faith).

“These are the seven living principles that we experience 365 days a year,” said Hart-Husbands as she greeted the audience.

Olabamidele Hart-Husbands hosts “Kwanzaa: A Regeneration Celebration” at the Apollo Theater in New York. (Photo by Shahar Azran/The Apollo)

Each night of the holiday, participants light a candle, representing one of the principles, in the Kwanzaa candleholder, which is called a kinara. Typically, it features three red candles and three green, plus a black one at its center representing umoja, or unity. Kwanzaa meals often feature yams, okra and sweet potatoes, emblematic food of the Black diaspora. It is also customary to eat collard greens to bring money and good fortune and black-eyed peas for good luck.

After illustrating the meaning of each principle, Hart-Husbands encouraged the audience to adopt Kwanzaa’s spirit and make an effort to celebrate. “I don’t care if you have to make your own candleholder and paint white candles red, black and green, but please do something!” she joked.

The spectacle started with a spiritual moment led by Husbands-Hart. Crouched at the front of the stage, dressed all in white with her long black locks wrapped in a white turban, she poured water to the ground in a solemn gesture to honor the ancestors. Kwanzaa, she said, is an occasion to show gratitude for the blessings they granted throughout the year.

“We thank the ancestors because we wouldn’t be there without them,” she said. Looking ahead to 2025, she encouraged the audience to remain faithful. “Know the ancestors have already said yes. Listen to the ‘yes’ of your ancestors.”

Throughout the show, the host addressed the audience saying, “Asé?” The public responded, “Asé.” An ancient Yoruba word, “Asé” is used to lend authority to a sentence, and is often employed by practitioners of the Afro-Brazilian Candomblé faith.

A “Hesi” prayer is interpreted by performers in “Kwanzaa: A Regeneration Celebration” at the Apollo Theater in New York, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (Photo by Shahar Azran/The Apollo)

The opening dance represented a “Hesi” prayer, a series of incantations addressed to an ancient Egyptian divinity to awaken the divine spirit within the audience. On stage, eight dancers dressed in white, some adorned with white body paint, moved around a Pharaoh-like figure. The scene culminated in a protective embrace, with all dancers kneeling at the feet of the royal Egyptian.

Forces of Nature Dance Theatre’s choreography is rooted in ancient spirituality, honoring Nigerian Yoruba deities and Caribbean Taíno mythological figures. Co-founded in 1981 by choreographer Abdel R. Salaam, whose work revolves around “environmental health, spirituality, and the survival of life on earth,” its repertoire is a fusion of traditional West African dance, Afrobeat, contemporary ballet, house and hip-hop.

In recent years, Forces of Nature has received the Apollo Kwanzaa 50th Anniversary Award in Excellence and the Kuumba Award from the New York Kwanzaa Holiday Foundation.

This year’s show featured a new dance set to Quincy Jones’ 1974 “Soul Saga (Song of the Buffalo Soldiers)” in honor of the memory of the legendary producer, who died in November. “Black West” depicts the history of Black Americans who journeyed to the West in the 19th century.

Jonetta Tillery at the Apollo Theater. (RNS photo/Fiona André)

Halfway through the show, elders of the community, each paired with a young child, performed the “ritual of nation-building.” As they came forward, each child danced or sang, or even talked about trigonometry, before receiving a glass brick to place on a model city. The gesture, explained the Rev. Malikah Lee Whitney, a Harlem native who runs the youth program Double Dutch Dreamz, marks their commitment to “build and contribute to the advancement of the Black community.”

For Jonetta Tillery, passing the love for Kwanzaa to the younger generation is also her favorite part about the holiday. At 71, Tillery has celebrated since childhood and appreciates Kwanzaa’s emphasis on Black history.

“It’s a great thing when we take pride in what we do and what we know as a race of people of color. We have done so many great things, we need to appreciate each other and continue to teach each other,” she said.

A lifelong resident of Harlem, Tillery said she has many wonderful memories of the Apollo. She remembered seeing the Jackson 5 for the first time in August 1967, when the group won “Amateur Night,” the Apollo’s talent show that jump-started their career. Since attending the Kwanzaa celebration last year, she said, it’s become a new tradition for her.

Unlike other year-end holidays that compel people to spend money, Tillery said Kwanzaa isn’t about material things and doesn’t require much. Her own Kwanzaa celebrations include family meals and time serving the community, she said.

“It’s more about love and how we communicate it with each other through music, dance, through joy, through unity, and teaching one another how to take care of each other,” she said.

Elders and children perform a ritual of nation-building in “Kwanzaa: A Regeneration Celebration” at the Apollo Theater in New York, Dec. 21, 2024. (Photo by Shahar Azran/The Apollo)

Meditation and religion are two separate things, says Gurudev Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

BOONE, N.C. (RNS) — The spiritual, but not religious, practice of meditation has never been more popular, thanks to renowned teachers like Gurudev Sri Sri Ravi Shankar.

People watch the sunrise at the Art of Living Retreat Center in Boone, N.C., Sunday, Dec. 22, 2024. (RNS photo/Richa Karmarkar)

Richa Karmarkar
December 24, 2024

BOONE, N.C. (RNS) — On Saturday (Dec. 21), designated World Meditation Day by the United Nations, 8.5 million people participated online in a guided meditation with the renowned guru Sri Sri Ravi Shankar from the meditation room at the U.N.’s headquarters in New York.

Afterward, Shankar flew to Boone, where about 1,000 people, including me, waited in the grand meditation hall of his Art of Living Retreat Center.

Shankar, a jovial and energetic 68, who is revered as Gurudev, or “Divine Teacher,” arrived to a blanket of fresh snow, dressed in thin white robes. (“The cold is my friend,” he told someone who asked how he was able to stand the frigid air.)

As he took the stage, dozens rushed over to shower Gurudev with flowers, prayer beads and their own hands to touch his feet in reverence. Someone in the crowd shouted, “I love you Guruji!” In response, the teacher joked, “You don’t have a choice!”

In 1981, when he started the foundation, meditation was widely viewed with skepticism in the West, he said, and many had the idea that “an idle mind is the Devil’s workshop.” The U.N.’s adoption of meditation showed how prevalent the practice has become among people of all faiths and ethnicities.

Shankar said, “When we started the Art of Living Foundation, people used to ask, ‘You meditate? What?'” Now, he said, people ask, “What, you don’t meditate?”

Sri Sri Ravi Shankar livestreams a World Meditation Day event, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (Video screen grab) WINTER SOLSTICE

Shankar, called by the double honorific Sri Sri to amplify respect, studied in his native India under Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, the guru known for spreading the mantra-based Transcendental Meditation across the globe, in part thanks to its adoption by The Beatles in the 1960s. But Shankar’s development of the Sudarshan Kriya, or SKY breathing technique, laid the foundation for the Art of Living, an institution focused on “mental hygiene” for the unique stresses and pains of the modern world.

My occupation entails equal parts talking and writing, and my free time is spent reading, singing or listening to music. My mind, in sum, is a constantly chattering place. Shopping for a reprieve as well from the fast, noisy pace of my current home base of New York, I came across the Art of Living’s retreat “Stepping into Silence.”

The retreat, which forbids all my normal activities and instead requires two full days of silence, beckoned to me. The price was lofty, but I would be able to experience the privilege of no social obligations, no external stimuli or distractions and no influences other than the wisdom passed down from ancient India.

I took the plunge.

RELATED: New York City celebrates the 10th International Day of Yoga

Flying to Charlotte, I caught a two-hour shuttle bus into the Blue Ridge Mountains. As the bus wound along the road leading to the retreat center, the bus driver remarked, “Y’all are heading to the middle of nowhere!” My fellow passenger responded: “That’s the intention!”

I found my room in the hotel-like lodge and dumped my cellphone in a drawer.

The Art of Living Retreat Center in Boone, N.C., early Sunday, Dec. 22, 2024. (RNS photo/Richa Karmarkar)

The campus was sprawling, a 20-minute walk uphill from south to north. Our schedule, before and during the two days of silence, included early morning yoga; fresh Ayurvedic vegetarian meals; and instruction sessions with Art of Living staff, with plenty of breaks for reflection (or a trip to the on-site Shankara Ayurveda Wellness Spa). I became friendly with a number of attendees, who had all come for different reasons.

A couple in their 60s from Austin, Texas, were making their seventh retreat together. The wife’s migraines had gone away, she said, from just one practice of SKY breathing, which kept both of them on the Art of Living path from 2009. After taking online meditation courses out of boredom during the COVID-19 pandemic, a mother, grandmother and two teenagers had come from Indiana for the in-person version. An undergraduate from Pune, India, had come just to be in Gurudev’s presence. One 23-year-old told me simply, “My mom signed me up for this without me knowing.”

I was eager to get into silence, despite cautions from a fellow New Yorker and repeat retreater who warned me that going silent was a great challenge — every little noise or noncompliance from another retreat-goer was a trigger, she said.

I faced the additional challenge of having injured my tailbone from an outing to the Bryant Park ice skating rink, making meditating or learning in a seated position on the floor particularly painful. On day two, I accidentally broke my silence with a swear word, having woken up just 10 minutes before a 7:30 a.m. yoga class.

But the most difficult part was confronting the inner workings of my mind — the past memories and future worries that were “dusted up” by the vacuum of meditation.

As my instructor Jim Larsen put it, meditation deletes the samskaras, or impressions, left behind on the brain from painful events of the past; those memories still exist but no longer provoke such strong emotions when they pass through the subconscious. Larsen, a longtime meditator who traveled around the world with Gurudev in the 1990s, said the term samskaras, funnily enough, sounds a lot like the English word scars.

The benefits of SKY meditation, according to longtime practitioners, can be far-reaching, and the practice has been shared in more than 180 countries, on 140 college campuses and even in numerous prison systems. The 40-minute sequence of controlled breath patterns, called pranayamas, led us into a deep, meditative trance-like state, where I could actually see and hear my thoughts coming in one by one and release them with ease. In the bathroom one day, I overheard a woman who had experienced her first SKY practice, “The prana (life-force energy) is flowing through me like crazy!”

The art of living, of attaining bliss, I learned, is to truly let go — of the past, of expectations for the future (an imagined reality, we were told), and of judgments about myself and others — and, overall, just to breathe.

On our last day at the center, my group was given a special treat: an intimate gathering with Gurudev — in Sanskrit, a darshan, or “seeing and being seen by a divine presence.”

At the meeting, Gurudev proclaimed himself willing to field any of our questions. A woman seated close to me asked Gurudev, “What is your relationship to Jesus Christ?” Smiling, Gurudev responded succinctly: “It is all love. We are all one.”


Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, center in white, leaves the Art of Living Retreat Center in Boone, N.C. (RNS photo/Richa Karmarkar)

Meditation and religion, Shankar said, are two separate entities, the former simply being the method to achieve harmony between the mind and the body, connected in breath. He told us that having a faith practice is great, but without the universal practice of meditation, one is chanting, praying or bowing down to the Divine without a deeper understanding of the human connection to Him, Her or It.

Out of a long silence, I raised my hand and asked a question that had been on my mind as I walked the beautiful campus. “Is it preferable for someone on the spiritual path to live in nature, rather than a crowded, busy city?”

Gurudev smiled and talked directly to me in his gentle tone: “You don’t have to pick up your entire life and move. If you have peace in your mind, you can be peaceful anywhere, even in New York or Chicago.”

I carried those words all the way to the airport back home. I smiled at every passerby, even the ones who looked at me funny. And for the first time on my own, I meditated on the plane.

 

New study examines ex-ultra-Orthodox use of social media to cope with their new path in life

Most will only have started using social media after leaving the ultra-Orthodox community

Ben-Gurion University of the Negev

BEER-SHEVA, Israel, December 18, 2024 – Ultra-Orthodox Jews (Haredim) who decide to leave the community and disaffiliate are at a stressful crossroads in their life. Many leave close-knit communities for an initially lonely path in a world they may not be very familiar with. One of the new aspects of that life may be social media. Studies show that less than 20% of ultra-Orthodox individuals in Israel are exposed to social media. As many do, they may seek support, solace, and connection online. Now, a Ben-Gurion University of the Negev communications researcher and colleagues have looked at ex-ultra-Orthodox Jews' use of social media for coping for the first time.

Dr. Yossi David of the Department of Communication Studies and head of the Communication and Social BIAS (Beliefs, Ideologies, Affect, and Stereotypes) Research Lab collaborated with Yehudis Keller, MA, a clinical psychology Ph.D. student at Case Western Reserve University, and Estherina Trachtenberg, a Ph.D. candidate at Sagol School of Neuroscience Tel Aviv University. They surveyed 1,146 ex ultra-Orthodox individuals in summer 2022 about how they use social media to cope with stress: to avoid or escape their stress, or to solve the problems they face. The survey includes participants aged 18 to 76, and the average respondent was 31. Slightly more than half were male, and most participants lived in Israel, but a minority were from the United States and other countries. Participants disaffiliated an average of 8 years prior to participating in the survey, though people left as recently as one year or as many as 52 years prior. More participants were single (60%) than in a relationship.

Their findings were just published in the journal New Media & Society. Participants provided the estimated number of hours per day spent on the following social media platform categories: TikTok, YouTube, or other video platforms; Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or other social media; and texting, WhatsApp, or other instant messaging.

Dr. David and his colleagues found that time spent on social media was not associated with wellbeing, while methods of coping through social media – particularly the negative methods of coping (avoidance and escapism) – were negatively associated with wellbeing. These findings reinforce prior research which suggests that time itself is not an adequate measure for understanding how social media impacts psychological wellbeing.

People who left ultra-Orthodoxy used social media primarily to cope through escapist methods, followed by problem-focused methods, while avoidant coping was the least common type. Problem-solving coping has been shown to be associated with positive mental health but had no relationship with the levels of resilience that one had at the time. Meanwhile, the more that one engaged with escapist and avoidant forms of coping through social media, the lower their levels of positive mental health and resilience.

"To our knowledge, there is currently no research on the role of social support and social media use among those who disaffiliate from high-cost religions. The process of disaffiliating from ultra-Orthodox Judaism is accompanied by the loss of social support and the social norms and communication technologies, which often results in a vulnerable psychological state. Ultra-Orthodox Jewish disaffiliates come from an environment where social media use is prohibited, moderated, or discouraged," the researchers wrote.

"Our results point to the need for better education for healthier use of new media technologies in general and social media in particular, which is particularly important for vulnerable individuals such as those going through major life changes and using social media for the first time," they wrote.

In addition to the findings about coping through social media, the researchers also found that giving and receiving both emotional and practical support to and from others were associated with positive mental health, which reflects findings among general populations. However, levels of resilience were only related to receiving emotional support from people in their lives and giving practical support to others. These results differ from associations in prior research, indicating that perhaps among those who leave a high-cost religion, there are different functions for how resilience can be bolstered by social support or lack thereof, or having more resilience to begin with allows one to give back to others in a practical way.

Despite the potentially stressful nature of their transition out of ultra-Orthodox Judaism, the researchers found that average resilience levels were comparable to that of the general population. They theorized that this finding might be explained by the already demanding levels of resilience needed to disaffiliate from a high-cost religion.

---

Journal

New Media & Society

DOI

10.1177/14614448241302312 

Method of Research

Survey

Subject of Research

People

Article Title

On a new path: Social support, social media engagement, and well-being after religious disaffiliation

Article Publication Date

23-Dec-2024

Spiritual Politics

The (real) Hanukkah story and why it still matters

(RNS) — Old debates continue.

People visit a giant Hanukkah menorah during the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah, in Tel Aviv, Nov. 28, 2021. Hanukkah, also known as the Festival of Lights, is an eight-day commemoration of the Jewish uprising in the second century B.C. against the Greek-Syrian kingdom, which had tried to put statues of Greek gods in the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. (AP Photo/Oded Balilty)

Mark Silk

December 24, 2024

(RNS) — Listen up, boys and girls.

Once upon a time, there were a lot of Jews living in the Land of Israel. Some of them were up to date with world culture, which is to say they read Greek lit, went to the gym and weren’t all that religious. Others were, well, fundamentalists. The two groups were pretty polarized. After a while, their harsh culture war became a civil war.

As it happened, the Land of Israel in those days was controlled by the king of Syria, a none-too-stable Greek culture guy known as Antiochus Da God. After beating up on the Egyptians, he decided to settle the Jews’ hash, siding (of course) with the liberals.

Seizing Jerusalem, Antiochus decided to outlaw the practice of Judaism altogether, burning copies of the Torah, prohibiting observance of the Sabbath and holidays and forbidding circumcision. He turned the Temple into a Greek religious shrine, complete with a statue of Zeus.

As a result, a country priest named Mattathias and his five sons instigated a revolt. These Maccabees, as they came to be called, used guerrilla tactics to defeat the Syrian army, recaptured Jerusalem and rededicated the Temple.

Many of you have heard that their victory was accompanied by a miracle, in which a one-day supply of undefiled oil kept the Temple menorah burning for eight days. I’m sorry to have to tell you it never happened.

The real deal was that, because of the Temple takeover, the Jews hadn’t been able to observe the weeklong fall pilgrimage festival called Sukkot. The first Hanukkah was designed to make up for that, and it continued annually as the Feast of Dedication. Jesus himself visited the Temple during this feast.

As for the miracle of the oil, that was an old rabbis’ tale, told in the Talmud centuries after the fact to demonstrate that God had a hand in the story. In fact, the rabbis didn’t really like Hanukkah.

How come?

For starters, it was the Maccabean revolt that inspired the revolt against the Romans some 170 years later, which led to the destruction of the Temple and the exile of Jews from Judea. Plus, the descendants of the Maccabees who ruled as the Hasmonean dynasty were deeply flawed characters.

They combined the office of king and high priest in their own persons, violating the separation of religious and political authority established under Moses and Aaron after the Israelites left Egypt. (Talk about Jewish theocracy!) The Hasmonean priest-kings were also intolerant, slaughtering thousands of Jews who didn’t agree with them. And they got into fights with the religious precursors of the rabbis.

At the same time, the Hasmoneans conquered a bunch of territory, leading scholars to debate whether they wanted to restore the Greater Israel of King David and King Solomon. Whether their territorial ambitions were primarily religious or secular is also a matter of debate. They did force people in their territory to have their sons circumcised.

Truth to tell, this period of history has long served as a touchstone for reckoning with control of the land of Israel. Where the rabbis of the Talmud kept the Maccabees at arm’s length, the Zionists happily rehabilitated them as heroes of their new state.

These days, we may wonder whether the deeply flawed Israeli leader, Benjamin Netanyahu, is seeking to restore the Greater Israel of David and Solomon, and whether his government, well supplied with zealots, is motivated by secular or religious goals. As always in the Jewish world, the debates continue.

Happy Hanukkah!

Opinion

How oil burning in a single spoon became a Hanukkah miracle

(RNS) — Taped to the front window of my in-laws’ house was a photocopy of a photograph of a tarnished and bent spoon. Of course, there was a story behind it.

I.I. Cohen, right, shortly after World War II, with an orphan in France. Cohen taught in an orphanage. 

(Photo courtesy of Rabbi Avi Shafran)

Avi Shafran
December 24, 2024

(RNS) — The modest but lovely home in Toronto has been sold. My beloved, widowed mother-in-law has moved in with one of her daughters, who lives nearby.

For years, though, when my in-laws lived in the house, taped to the front window was a piece of paper, a photocopy of a photograph of a tarnished and bent spoon.

Behind it, of course, there is a story.

My father-in-law, I.I. Cohen, of blessed memory, was an alumnus of a number of World War II concentration camps. The spoon in the photograph was one of the items he smuggled out of Auschwitz when the Nazis moved him into “Camp No. 8” — a quarantine camp for those suspected of carrying typhus.

Due to the illness, there were no regular labor teams in this new camp, but healthy inmates were ordered to help in its construction, which was still underway. Having had some experience in the Lodz ghetto as a mechanic, my father-in-law was assigned to assist the electrical technician in installing the camp’s lighting.

Given access to tools, he brought his spoon, his only possession, to work one day and surreptitiously filed down its handle, turning that end of the utensil into a sharp knife, which he used for cutting the chunk of bread he and others were allotted and had to apportion fairly. The knife end became a key to avoiding disputes and maintaining relative peace among the prisoners, while he continued to use the spoon to eat his soup ration.

When winter came, he was transferred to “Camp No. 4” in Kaufering, an installation similar to Auschwitz. Despite terrible deprivations and hardships, my father-in-law and other religious Jews in the camp tried whenever possible to maintain what Jewish law and practices they could, despite all the dangers that involved.

My father-in-law always kept mental track of the Jewish calendar, and he knew when Hanukkah had arrived. During a few minutes’ work break, he and a group of inmates began to reminisce about how, when they were children back home before the war, their fathers would light their menorahs with such fervor and joy. They remembered how they could never get their fill of watching the small flames sparkling like stars, how they basked in the warm, special glow.

And the inmates spoke of the ancient battle that Hanukkah commemorates, the Jewish rebellion against the Seleucid Greek conquerors of the Holy Land, who were intent on erasing Jewish observance from the populace, and Judaism from their hearts. And how, with God’s help, the rebels were able to rout their enemy and resume their fully Jewish lives.

If only, the prisoners wistfully mused, they could light a Hanukkah candle these nights. Although it’s ideal to light an additional candle each night of the eight-day holiday, Jewish tradition’s requirement is satisfied with the lighting of a single candle.

One prisoner offered that he had a bit of margarine saved from his daily ration. That could serve as oil. And wicks? Some of those present began to unravel threads from their uniforms.

But a menorah. They needed a menorah.

With a smile (at least I imagine he smiled; he was a happy person) my father-in-law took out his spoon. Within moments, the small group was lighting their Hanukkah “candle,” reciting the requisite blessings. The prisoners stood transfixed, immersed in their thoughts of Hanukkah gone by.

The small flame also kindled a glimmer of hope. As the prisoners recited the blessing referring to the miracles wrought by God “in those days,” but also “at this time,” they understood that, indeed, “at this time,” what they needed was a miracle.

Nonreligious Jewish inmates, too, stood nearby and watched the luminous moment in the darkness of their concentration camp lives.

My father-in-law merited personal miracles, surviving that dark time — a harrowing story in itself, which he chronicled in his book “Destined to Survive.” And throughout his life, he brimmed with gratitude for having been graced with a postwar life, and for the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren he was able to see.

The photocopy depicting the spoon is now in a new house, far from where I live. But each year I think of it and am reminded of my father-in-law’s resilience and faith, and of the resilience and faith of the Jewish people.

(Rabbi Avi Shafran writes widely in Jewish and general media and blogs at rabbishafran.com. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of RNS.)

In Israel and occupied territories, Christmas and Hanukkah converge in sober celebrations

JERUSALEM (RNS) — Gaza’s tiny Christian community prayed with Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, who received permission from Israel to visit the parish of the Holy Family in the embattled enclave.

Christian, Muslim and Jewish decorations are displayed in Haifa, Israel, Dec. 23, 2024. (AP Photo/Ariel Schalit)

Michele Chabin
December 24, 2024

JERUSALEM — Last year, Israelis marked Hanukkah and Christmas mostly quietly in their homes, synagogues, churches — and bomb shelters. Some 200,000 were displaced due to rocket fire from Gaza and Lebanon.

This holiday season, Israelis of all faiths are breathing a little easier, despite the country’s still-uncertain security, continuing displacement and the 100 hostages who remain captive by Hamas. The near absence of rocket fire from Gaza and Lebanon has meant that people are more open to congregating in public to light community Christmas trees, shop at outdoor holiday markets or attend a Hanukkah children’s festival.

In contrast to last year, Holy Land patriarchs and church leaders are again encouraging local Christians to publicly celebrate Christmas, provided they are “sensitive to the severe afflictions that millions in our region continue to endure.”

Although the decision to downplay Christmas last year was made “with good intentions,” the Christian leaders said in a November statement, “many around the world nevertheless misinterpreted this call to signify a ‘Cancellation of Christmas’ in the Holy Land — the very place of our Lord’s Holy Nativity.” Because of this, “our unique witness to the Christmas message of light emerging out of darkness (John 1:9) was diminished not only around the world, but also among our own people.”

Finding joy when Palestinians and Israelis are still dying in war “is extremely difficult,” acknowledged Maryam Khoury, a Christian from northern Israel who was visiting the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, believed to have been built over Jesus’ tomb, in Jerusalem. “But we can rejoice in Christ’s message of hope and love and provide hope and love to others.”

Rabbi Seth Farber, who leads the Kehilat Netivot synagogue in Ra’anana, said the onset of Hanukkah is especially bittersweet this year. “On one hand our community is feeling more optimistic,” he said. There are fewer air sirens, fewer military death notices and fewer local funerals. “On the other hand, the widows are still widows, the bereaved parents are still bereaved, and the children are still orphans.”

Although Hanukkah is a time of light and a celebration of heroism, “it is not possible to forget about the hostages and the nightmare they are living through,” Farber added. Recently, his synagogue celebrated the completion of a Torah scroll written in the memory of a young synagogue member killed on Oct. 7, 2023. “But we are not yet ready to have a Hanukkah celebration. The war and its aftermath are ever present in our prayers, and we continue to pray for the soldiers with an extra prayer every morning.”

Still, Hanukkah, like the other wartime holidays this year, must go on.

The synagogue will be holding an outdoor candle lighting each night of Hanukkah, with photos of the hostages placed near the menorah. “Hanukkah is about celebrating the miracle and publicizing it, but at present, alongside remembering the great moments of the past, we need to acknowledge the challenges of the present,” Farber said.

Hedva Fox, an educator, said she is striving to find positives this Hanukkah. “It seems that most of our history is made up of a dichotomy of both hope and despair — celebration and mourning. It’s okay to do both, to remember that you can celebrate and have hope for the future even if you also carry pain in your heart.

The plight of Palestinians in Gaza, coupled with the almost complete absence of Christian pilgrims and subsequent loss of income, has added to the grim mood in Bethlehem. For the second year in a row, the municipality decided to forgo outdoor Christmas decorations, festivals and festivities, including the annual Christmas tree lighting and open-air Christmas market.

“For us, Bethlehem is part of the Palestinian heritage, and as a result of what’s going on in Gaza, and Israel’s continuous attacks, we Christians will concentrate on Christian prayers and prayers for peace,” Anton Salman, mayor of the small West Bank city, told the National Catholic Register. “Of course, each person can celebrate Christmas in their way. But for the city itself, due to the situation, there will be no festivals or decorations. We want to show the world that Bethlehem and the Palestinian people are still suffering.”

Latin Patriarch Pierbattista Pizzaballa, the top Catholic clergyman in the Holy Land, center, arrives at the Church of the Nativity, traditionally believed to be the birthplace of Jesus, on Christmas Eve in the West Bank city of Bethlehem, Dec. 24, 2024. (AP Photo/Matias Delacroix)

In Gaza, the tiny Christian community was overjoyed this week to pray with Latin (Catholic) Patriarch of Jerusalem Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, who received permission from Israel to visit the parish of the Holy Family in the embattled enclave.

Before the war, about 1,000 Christians lived in Gaza. Since then, the community has dwindled as hundreds of members have received permission to emigrate. More than 20 have been killed during the war, according to the patriarchate. Their homes damaged or destroyed, the remaining Christians have taken refuge at two church compounds.

During the Mass, Pizzaballa, dressed in white vestments, presided over a confirmation ceremony for several of the community’s children.

In his homily, the patriarch praised the congregation’s fortitude and faith. “You are the light of our church. We are proud of you, not because of anything in particular, but because you have remained what you are: Christians with Jesus.

“Just as all the people of the world, not only Christians, are with you, so too you can give something to the world that looks at you, bringing the light of Christ to everyone with your example,” Pizzaballa said.

Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah? For some interfaith families, it’s both

(RNS) — Two Texas families share how they navigate honoring different religious heritages during the holiday season.

(Images courtesy of Pixabay/Creative Commons)
Marissa Greene
December 24, 2024

FORT WORTH, Texas (RNS) — When Ethan Klos, who was raised Jewish, and his wife, Ricki, a Christian, were ready to start a family, the Texas couple consulted a rabbi and a pastor about which religion to raise their kids in.

“Pick one,” the rabbi told the couple. “It doesn’t matter to me which one you pick.”

“So naturally,” recalled Ricki Klos, “that’s not what we did.”

The couple decided to raise their family in the Christian and Jewish faiths, alternating Sunday schools between temple and church.

Ethan and Ricki Klos represent the 17% of Americans whose spouse has a different religious affiliation than themselves, according to a 2024 Public Religion Research Institute study. This year, their commitments may be tested, as the first night of Hanukkah and Christmas Day will converge for the first time since 2005.

The Klos family has found different ways to honor both religious heritages in their Fort Worth home, where a collection of menorahs rests on a table and Star of David ornaments hang on the Christmas tree. “We’ll have Hanukkah decorations up all over the house, just as much as Christmas,” Ricki said.

The family will participate in the lighting of the candles and say prayers for Hanukkah. They will also read the Christmas story from the Bible, Ricki Klos said.

Interfaith couple Eric and Lauren Wessinger, who also live in Fort Worth, decided to raise their children, now teenagers, as Jews, celebrating Hanukkah as a religious holiday and Christmas as more of a cultural one, Lauren Wessinger said.

It was the best answer for both Eric, who grew up with a Jewish mother and a Christian father, and Lauren, who was raised without a specific faith but said her spirituality has been inspired by her mother, a convert to Tibetan Buddhism.

The family will light the menorah and attend Hanukkah holiday parties as well as have a Christmas tree at home.

The Wessingers said the holiday season can be a time to clear the air on misconceptions about what it means to observe both Christmas and Hanukkah — the notion, for instance, that their kids get twice the number of gifts for observing both holidays.

Being an interfaith family has also given Lauren Wessinger the opportunity to share about her family’s practices to curious friends or congregants, she said. “What I love is when people want to talk about it and ask what our traditions are, and they’re genuinely interested in families who do it differently,” Lauren said.

The Wessingers have also adopted mindfulness practices as a way to honor Lauren’s mother’s Buddhist faith and set intentions for the new year, by making vision boards or journaling.

“Even though we are doing Judaism more than anything, I still very much share the practice of mindfulness with the kids and the philosophies of Buddhism with them in the way that I lead our family and approach challenges and help them see difficulty through that lens,” Lauren Wessinger said.

Though they celebrate each holiday distinctly, the Wessingers cherish the shared days most of all. “It’s about being together in family time and the relationship piece of it,” her husband said. “Everyone’s always off for Christmas, so it’s just a good time to be together as a family, regardless of what your faith is.”

And though raising an interfaith family has not always been easy, Ricki Klos said, “I feel good that they’ve been exposed to two faiths, and they know two faiths very, very well. I don’t regret anything.”

Christmas and the first night of Hanukkah will realign again in 2035 and then in 2054, according to the Jewish calendar website Hebcal.

This article was produced as part of the RNS/Interfaith America Religion Journalism Fellowship.

Deception and Politics From Washington To Tel Aviv

By M. Reza Behnam

December 24, 2024

Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.


Image in public domain

In these difficult times, the voice of the late Palestinian-American scholar, Edward Said is ever present, “Writing is the final resistance we have against the inhuman practices and injustices that disfigure human history.”

For more than fourteen painful months Israel has passed off its inhuman actions against the people of Gaza as “defensive.”

We are to believe that the massacre of tens of thousands of civilians and attacks on its Arab neighbors are somehow Israel’s “right.” Championed by the Biden administration, Tel Aviv has grown ever more bolder and barbaric in its efforts to crush the resistance and expand its “undeclared” borders; simply, because it can.

Since it proclaimed itself a state on Palestinian land in 1948, Israel has been and continues to be engaged in the largest dispossession of an ethnic group in modern history. And following its victory in the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, Israel has emerged an expansionist, occupying and annexationist power, ruling over vast Arab lands and people.

The United States has, particularly since 1967, been the bulwark for Israel’s expansionist dreams. U.S.-Israeli supremacist intentions, papered over and buried for decades, are now clear for all to see.

Out of the ashes of World War II, the newly created United Nations, with U.S. pressure, helped legalize land theft. In 1948, the General Assembly (made up of 58 nations) said “yes” to the creation of a Jewish state on 62 percent of historic Palestine. At the time of the unequal division, 68 percent of the population were Arab Palestinian Muslims and Christians, while only 30 percent were Jewish.

Zionist plans to seize all of Palestine, from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea, have never ceased, and are clearly stated in the Likud Party platform of 1977: “The right of the Jewish people to the land of Israel is eternal and indisputable… therefore, Judea and Samaria will not be handed to any foreign administration; between the Sea and the Jordan there will only be Israeli sovereignty.”

The inhumanity, injustices and militarism that we see today in Gaza, in the occupied West Bank, Lebanon, Syria and Yemen have deep roots in the founding of the Jewish state and its ongoing desire to create a hegemonic Eretz Israel (Greater Israel) throughout the Middle East.

The expansionist policies of the current Israeli regime are not an aberration. They are rather a continuation and the inevitable outcome of Zionist political ideology espoused by Israel’s founding fathers, advanced by the Labour and Likud parties, and currently being prosecuted by the fanatics in the far-right Religious Zionism party.

Like the early Zionists, every Israeli leader has believed in the Jewish right to all of Palestine and the right to expel the indigenous population to achieve an exclusive Jewish state. Their plans, goals and strategies have been blatantly stated and well documented over many years.

European founders, men like the father of modern political Zionism, Theodor Herzl (1860-1904); Ze’ev Jabotinsky (1880-1940), founder of Revisionist Zionism (precursor of today’s Likud Party); Chaim Weizmann (1874-1952), the first president of Israel; and David Ben-Gurion (1886-1973), Israel’s first prime minister, agreed that increased Jewish immigration and removal of Palestinians were required to secure control over Palestine and to create a Greater Israel.

Following are a handful of the many citations that should be weighed to understand European Zionism and its ethnic cleansing schemes for Palestine and its people:“When we occupy the land, we shall bring immediate benefits to the state that receives us. We must expropriate gently the private property on the estates assigned to us. We shall try to spirit the penniless population across the border by procuring employment for it in the transit countries, while denying it employment in our own country….Both the process of expropriation and removal of the poor must be carried out discreetly and circumspectly.” (Herzl, 1895) [to Herzl, Palestinians were “it”]
“There is no choice: The Arabs must make room for the Jews of Eretz Israel. If it was possible to transfer the Baltic peoples, it is also possible to move the Palestinian Arabs….We Jews, thank God, have nothing to do with the East….The Islamic soul must be broomed out of Eretz Israel….[Muslims are] yelling rabble dressed up in gaudy, savage rags.” (Jabotinsky, 1939)“By a Jewish National Home I mean the creation of such conditions that as the country is developed we can pour in a considerable number of immigrants, and finally establish such a society in Palestine that Palestine shall be as Jewish as England is English or America American.” (Weizmann, 1919)“With compulsory transfer we [would] have a vast area [for settlement]….I support compulsory transfer. I don’t see anything immoral in it.” (Ben-Gurion, 1937) and “My assumption…is that a Jewish state on only a part [referring to partition plan] of the land is not the end but the beginning….every increase in strength helps in the possession of the land as a whole.” (Ben-Gurion, 1938)

From Israel’s founder, Herzl, to its first prime minister, Ben-Gurion, its goal has been “a land for Israelis, without Palestinians.”

Furthermore, by looking back on Israel’s expansionist strategies, we can better comprehend what Tel Aviv and Washington are currently plotting for Palestine and the larger region. Their schemes for becoming the hegemons of the Levant are revealed in the: 1948 Plan Dalet (Plan D); Oded Yinon Plan, “A Strategy for Israel in the 1980s;” and 1996 “A Clean Break: A New Strategy for Securing the Realm.”
The Dalet Plan—Blueprint for the Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine

Long before the British terminated their mandate and pulled their army out of Palestine, a cabal of Zionist political and military leaders, led by Ben-Gurion, had been preparing militarily plans for the dispossession of the Palestinians once the British left.

Plan Dalet (Plan D) was officially put into effect on 10 March 1948. Military orders were given to the new Israeli army and Haganah militia to systematically and forcibly remove Palestinians from vast areas of the country. The operational orders specified which population centers should be targeted and laid out in detail how to drive out the inhabitants and destroy their communities, using methods including intimidation, setting fires to homes, properties and goods, demolishing homes and planting mines to prevent inhabitants from returning. On 9 April 1948, at Deir Yassin near Jerusalem, over 150 Palestinian men, women and children were massacred by Zionist terrorist militias (members of Irgun and Stern Gang).

After six months, when the Nakba (the catastrophe) ended, over 750,000 Palestinians had been uprooted, 531 villages destroyed and eleven urban neighborhoods had been depopulated, soon repopulated with Jewish Israelis.

The destruction of Palestinian communities begun during and after the 1948 Arab- Israeli War marked the beginning of Israel’s apartheid system on 78 percent of historic Palestine.
The Yinon Plan “A Strategy for Israel in the 1980s”

In February 1982, an essay appeared in Kivinum (Directions), a journal of the World Zionist Organization. It was written by Oded Yinon, a journalist for the Jerusalem Post with close ties to Israel’s foreign ministry.

The Yinon Plan for the Middle East contained the key elements of the “Greater Israel” scheme reflected in the expansionist policies—underwritten by the United States—that Tel Aviv has implemented over more than eight decades.

Although the “de-Palestinezation of Palestine” has been a priority, every Arab state has been a target of Zionist expansionism. The Yinon Plan emphasizes two key elements: To survive, Israel must become an imperial regional power; and to achieve that hegemony, it must weaken and divide neighboring Arab states. Israel’s aim has been to create small, sectarian-based Arab states with little choice but to yield to Israeli domination.

The Yinon Plan has been taking shape since the Iran-Iraq War (1980-88) and U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003. Israel’s interest in weak states in the Middle East

has been borne out in its air and cyber-wars and numerous assassinations of prominent opposition figures.

Since 1967, Israel has swallowed up more Arab land. It has illegally annexed Arab lands in Palestine and the Syrian Golan Heights; with plans, as recently announced, to colonize the devastated Gaza Strip and to annex the West Bank.
“A Clean Break: A New Strategy for Securing the Realm”

A U.S.-Israeli neoconservative research group at the Institute for Advanced Strategies and Palestine Studies in Washington, D.C. prepared a policy document in 1996 for newly-elected Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

The report titled, “A Clean Break: A New Strategy for Securing the Realm,” laid out a plan of action on how Washington and Tel Aviv could integrate their policies to defeat Israel’s “foes” by reshaping the Middle East.

Notably, the authors of the manifesto worked in the George W. Bush White House, inside the Pentagon and Defense Department. Its lead author, former U.S. Assistant Secretary of Defense for Global Strategic Affairs (1981-87), Richard Perle, was one of the key figures in the formulation of the disastrous 2003 Iraq war strategy adopted by the Bush administration.

To win American support, Netanyahu was advised to package the proposed policies in a language familiar to Americans; hence, standard-issue canards such as “Israel has the right to defend itself” and branding supporters of Palestinian rights as “terrorists.”

The strategies described in the “Yinon” and “Clean Break” plans were constructs for endless U.S.-Israeli wars and chaos in the region. It should be noted, that the United States has engaged in or sponsored wars or conflicts—beneficial to Israeli strategy—in Iraq (2003), Libya (2011), Syria (from 2011 to the present), in Lebanon, Yemen, occupied West Bank and Gaza; and with Iran if Israel continues to have its way.

To “secure the realm,” Israel was urged to pursue aggressive policies of preemption and regime change against governments in the region that resisted Israel’s expansionist aims. Netanyahu was advised to collaborate with Jordan and Türkiye to destabilize Iraq and to contain Syria through proxy warfare.

Consistent with “clean break logic,” the Bush administration, under the pretext that Iraq harbored weapons of mass destruction, invaded Iraq in 2003, toppled Saddam and dismantled the ruling Ba’ath Party.

Iraq has yet to recover from America’s eight-year-long occupation and war.

Despite the Iraqi government’s request that the U.S. leave, Washington has refused to withdraw its remaining 2,500 troops.

The U.S.-Israel war on Syria, which led to the fall of President Assad in December 2024 began with the 1996 “Clean Break” strategy for the region. It escalated in 2011 when President Barack Obama covertly instructed the CIA to overthrow President Assad in Operation Timber Sycamore. Thirteen years of deadly war, frequent Israeli air strikes, and crippling U.S.-led economic sanctions, left Syria impoverished, fragmented and unable to resist foreign invasion.

Israel got what it wanted in Syria, a Balkanized and weakened country. The United States, Türkiye and their forces dominate in the North, while Israel controls areas in the South. Tel Aviv now claims control over the demilitarized buffer zone in the Golan Heights, and has declared its intent to expand its illegal colonies in the Golan Heights, declaring them part of the Israeli state “for eternity.”

Netanyahu has eagerly embraced “Clean Break” proposals on ways to “secure the realm” in Palestine. He has perversely sabotaged the Oslo Accords (1993/1995), completely written-off the so-called two-state solution (land for peace) and sown division within the Palestinian national movement.

The Palestinian Authority (PA) tasked with limited government over parts of the occupied Palestinian territories by the now extinct Oslo Accords, has been reduced to an enforcement arm of the Israeli security state.

The recent (21 December) large-scale armed crackdown against Palestinian resistance groups in the Jenin refugee camp carried out by PA Security Forces exemplifies the extent of the collaboration.

It should be noted, that the assault was coordinated with Washington and Tel Aviv, and put under the direction of U.S. Army Lieutenant General Michael R. Fenzel, who has served as U.S. Security Coordinator of the Israel-Palestinian Authority since November 2021.

Clean Break strategists callously advised Israel, “to pursue Palestinians into all areas.” In its sinister belief that it can physically destroy the Palestinian national desire to return home to a free Palestine, Israel has ravaged and pulverized the defenseless Gaza Strip. And for more than 17 years, Netanyahu has made it his mission to kill as many Palestinians as the United States and its Western allies will tolerate.
Conclusion

From Herzl’s “spirit them out” to Netanyahu’s campaign of genocide, the message and actions have been the same—-remove all trace of Palestinians. And from President Harry S. Truman to President Joe Biden, the message has been: the United States will prevent Israel from failing, whatever the political or economic cost.

When President Biden asserts that he is a “committed Zionist,” he emphatically says to Israelis and Americans that the United States is in lockstep with Israel’s plans to erase Palestinians and their hopes for a sovereign Palestinian nation. Americans, too, many unwittingly, have become committed Zionists by financing Israeli supremacy and regional militarism.

In addition, by suppressing the truth about Israel’s expansionist plans, American politicians and the corporate media have fed the country’s addiction to regional supremacy and its dreams of a Greater Israel, without Palestinians.

Ben-Gurion’s words in a letter to his son in 1937 were menacing and foreboding:

“The Arabs will have to go, but one needs an opportune moment for making it happen, such as a war.” Israel’s current Zionist extremists have seized upon the Palestinian act of resistance on 7 October 2023 to make Ben-Gurion’s hoped for “opportune moment” a reality, believing that they, like their predecessors, can continue to disfigure history.


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M. Reza Behnam
Dr. M. Reza Behnam is a political scientist who specializes in comparative politics, with a focus on West Asia.

Across the Middle East, the BDS Movement Is Thriving

By Farah Awadalla
December 24, 202
Source: Waging Nonviolence

Image by Michael Coghlan, Creative Commons 2.0



In the bustling streets of Cairo, a bold banner hangs outside the Writers’ Syndicate, confronting passersby with a piercing statement: “Every pound you spend on their products returns as a bullet in your brother’s back.” This message critiques the economic and political ties between the listed multinational products and Israel. The visual captures the spirit of a region-wide movement, where ordinary people are transforming everyday choices into acts of defiance against forces that fuel war and perpetuate conflict.

Across the Red Sea, in the lively streets of Amman, Jordan, another symbol of resistance stands in silence: the empty aisles of Carrefour supermarkets. Once bubbling with life, these shuttered stores are the result of an unwavering boycott campaign — and a testament to how solidarity and conscious consumer choices can challenge and disrupt dominant systems of power.

Across the world, the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement, or BDS, has gained momentum, encouraging individuals to use their purchasing power as an effective tool for change. By reimagining the global economy as a means to exert pressure on Israel, BDS has transformed boycotts into one of the most effective forms of nonviolent resistance in a capitalist world, creating ripple effects that resonate far beyond the checkout counter. Nowhere is this impact more evident than in the Middle East, where shared regional solidarity and strategic economic pressure have turned the movement into a powerful force reshaping political and economic dynamics.
Transforming consumption into a weapon of resistance

Effective boycotts have long served as tools to challenge power, disrupting profits, tarnishing reputations and compelling institutions to change. In the Middle East, however, they hold a deeper resonance, intertwined with decades of struggle against colonialism and occupation.

“Boycotting isn’t new. It’s a legacy embedded in our struggle,” said Hossam Mahmoud of BDS Egypt. “It goes back to the days of British colonization and the partition of Palestine in 1947.” From student protests to global campaigns, the region has long relied on nonviolent resistance to challenge injustice.

This long history of economic resistance was reignited by Israel’s war in Gaza in October 2023, as social media quickly became the movement’s amplifier, with hashtags like #Don’tPayForTheirBullets rallying younger generations. In this renewed fight, global giants, such as McDonald’s and Starbucks, were targeted for their financial complicity or implicit support to Israeli military actions.

For many, these boycotts are more than economic — they are moral imperatives, a rejection of profiteering from violence. Their power lies not just in financial disruption but in reshaping consumer consciousness, forcing individuals to ask: Does buying this make me complicit in what it supports?
Behind the boycott: strategies that drive success

Behind every successful boycott is a story of innovative tactics that turn awareness into action.

Social media became the core of the movement, transforming local efforts into worldwide campaigns. Platforms like X, Instagram and TikTok amplified voices, mobilized communities and sparked viral campaigns that forced corporations to pay attention. Hashtags like #BoycottOccupationGoods and #DidYouFundGenocideToday? became rallying cries, uniting millions and turning online outrage into tangible action.

But the fight for justice extended far beyond likes and shares. Tools like the No Thanks app bridged the gap between digital awareness and real-world action. By scanning a product’s barcode, consumers gained immediate access to details about a brand’s affiliations, giving them the power to make informed choices and determine whether their purchase supported the boycott.

Sustaining momentum required more than technology; activists leaned into grassroots efforts, fostering lasting connections through direct engagement. Workshops, public lectures and in-person action turned online trends into enduring campaigns for change.

University campuses have emerged as vital hubs for this movement, blending education with activism. At the American University in Cairo, the Political Science Students Association, or PSSA, is leading by example. Under Haya Kandeel’s leadership, the association has turned student engagement into a force for meaningful change. “This wasn’t just about boycotts,” Kandeel explained. “We tackled misinformation head-on, hosting talks with BDS representatives and professors to connect global injustices to local realities. We even launched a dedicated newsletter to spotlight Palestine and promote ethical consumer choices.” These initiatives fostered a culture of critical thinking and educated actions, leading to long-term commitment to change.

“Online activism is indispensable,” said BDS Egypt’s Hossam Mahmoud. “But grassroots, on-the-ground efforts remain the heart of lasting change.” He recalls how, in an older campaign, BDS took its fight directly to Zamalek Sporting Club, one of Egypt’s most prominent and historic football clubs. The group engaged members and decision-makers face-to-face to expose Puma’s ties with Israel, ultimately leading to a successful termination of their partnership. This victory underscores a vital truth: while social media can spread awareness, real impact often requires stepping out of the digital sphere and building direct human connections. From the halls of universities to the streets of Cairo, the boycott movement is proving that change begins with community — and the courage to confront power where it lives.
Personal narratives and motivations

For many, boycotting is more than an economic gesture — it’s a deeply personal declaration of values and solidarity. “Boycotting in itself is an act of raising awareness,” Mahmoud said. “It’s not just about applying economic pressure; it’s about educating people, sparking critical conversations and building a collective understanding of the daily injustices Palestinians face.” Mahmoud emphasized the accessibility of boycotting, calling it “a tangible form of solidarity — low-risk, yet profoundly impactful over time.”

However, not everyone shares this sense of empowerment. While waiting in line at a McDonald’s checkout counter, I asked a customer why he chose not to boycott. He hesitated before responding with quiet resignation: “To be honest, I don’t think it makes a difference. Whether I buy from here or not, a pack of fries isn’t going to free Palestine.” His words echo doubts harbored by many — questions about whether individual actions can truly dent entrenched systems of oppression.

For others, however, boycotting is a way to reclaim agency. Safiya Aboushady, a university student in Cairo, recalls feeling helpless as she watched the destruction in Gaza. “Joining the boycott gave me something tangible to do,” she said. “It’s not just about avoiding a product, it’s about standing for a principle.” For Aboushady, the act of boycotting bridges the gap between despair and action, a sentiment shared by many who find strength in aligning their values with collective resistance.

Jana, a 22-year-old activist who requested her last name be omitted, sees boycotting as a vital tool in societies where public protest is restricted. “In many Middle Eastern countries, you can’t take to the streets without fear of being silenced or arrested,” she said. “Boycotting is one of the few ways we can express our resistance without directly confronting the authorities.” For her, it’s about more than just economic impact. “This isn’t just about hitting companies financially, it’s about making our voices heard.”
The wide reach of boycott movements

All these efforts yielded tangible results, as boycotts transformed from local acts of resistance into a regional movement, demonstrating that collective action can transcend borders and reshape the global discourse.

In Jordan, economic resistance has become a daily act of defiance, deeply rooted in solidarity with Palestine. According to one poll, over 93 percent of Jordanians have supported boycott efforts against companies associated with the occupation since October 2023. Community groups, schools and unions have incorporated boycotts into their initiatives, fostering a culture of disassociation from complicity in oppression.

Beyond Egypt and Jordan, the ripple effects of these campaigns are being felt across Lebanon, Kuwait and Tunisia. Lebanese activists have targeted cultural events and corporations like G4S, a private security firm, that are accused of enabling Israeli policies by providing equipment and services to Israeli checkpoints. Kuwait has institutionalized bans on companies linked to Israel, while in Tunisia, grassroots campaigns continue to build on the momentum of regional efforts. This interconnected resistance underscores the power of collective action, where local struggles merge with international movements, proving that economic resistance can ignite global conversations about justice.

The boycott of companies like Coke and Pepsi has even transcended national boundaries, resonating across various countries. In Pakistan, local soda brands such as Cola Next and Pakola have seen a surge in popularity as consumers reject Western beverage giants, linking them symbolically to U.S. support for Israel. In Egypt, V7 Cola has gained popularity as a local alternative. Similarly Gaza Cola, introduced in the U.K., sold out its initial production run within weeks, pledging profits to rebuild hospitals in Gaza and embodying the spirit of resistance. Meanwhile, brands like Salaam Cola in the U.K. and Palestine Drinks in Sweden are channeling their revenues into humanitarian projects in Gaza and the West Bank, reinforcing their mission to support Palestinian causes. These brands not only offer ethical choices but also underscore the growing intersection of consumer behavior and political advocacy, transforming everyday purchases into acts of solidarity.

Mahmoud captured the essence of the movement, saying, “Our success isn’t measured by immediate victories but by building a sustained, unified movement that transcends borders.” His words highlight the interconnected nature of the global BDS effort, where campaigns, though rooted in local contexts, contribute to a broader, coordinated push that amplifies their collective impact. “Guided by the BDS National Committee in Ramallah, campaigns around the world coordinate efforts to maximize their influence, while preserving their grassroots foundations,” he said. “From Paris to Cairo, campaigns share strategies, messages and goals, creating a unified front that strengthens the movement’s reach.”

This cooperation ensures that each action contributes to a global momentum, demonstrating that solidarity knows no borders. These modern efforts evoke the global solidarity reminiscent of the anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa, where international boycotts were instrumental in dismantling injustice.
The power (and paradox) of economic resistance

The surge of boycotts across the Middle East has forced multinational corporations to confront their vulnerabilities. Companies like McDonald’s Egypt have scrambled to mitigate damage, distancing themselves from their international counterparts and pledging millions of Egyptian pounds to Gaza relief efforts. Yet these gestures have done little to reverse declining sales or placate public criticism.

The economic repercussions have been undeniable on those corporations. Coke and Pepsi suffered a 7 percent sales decline in the first half of 2024 across the region. McDonald’s Egypt sales dropped by 70 percent amid the ongoing boycott over the company’s support to Israel. Starbucks Middle Eat laid off at least 2,000 employees amid declining sales after boycott efforts. The slower sales led Starbucks CEO Laxman Narasimhan to tell analysts that “We saw a negative impact to our business in the Middle East,” and that “Events in the Middle East also had an impact in the U.S., driven by misperceptions about our position.” In an attempt to repair the reputational damage in April 2024, Starbucks’ charitable arm announced a $3 million donation to World Central Kitchen to provide food aid to Gaza.

In Jordan, Carrefour’s abrupt closure of all its branches further underscores the growing influence of BDS. The retailer announced on Facebook: “As of Nov. 4, 2024, Carrefour will cease all its operations in Jordan and will not continue to operate within the Kingdom.” This decision followed months of boycott campaigns accusing Carrefour of complicity in Israeli policies, including allegations of support for Israeli soldiers amid attacks on Gaza. The Jordanian BDS movement celebrated the closure as a victory for collective action and a testament to the power of ethical consumerism to challenge entrenched systems.

The BDS campaign has also caused global impact. In April 2024, McDonald’s announced plans to buy back its Israeli franchise from Omri Padan, who had offered free meals to Israeli Defense troops during the Israel-Hamas conflict.

Despite its power, economic resistance faces notable challenges. Critics argue that boycotts often lose momentum once initial enthusiasm fades, limiting their longterm impact. Multinational corporations, with their diverse revenue streams, can easily offset regional losses by capitalizing on gains in other markets, weakening the broader effect of localized efforts. “Boycotting must be more than a fleeting trend, it must become a lasting commitment to justice,” said Mahmoud, stressing the importance of sustained action to bring about real change. This reality means that even high-profile successes, like the closure of Carrefour outlets, may remain more symbolic than transformative on a global scale.

Nevertheless, boycotts remain a powerful tool for holding corporations accountable. As Mahmoud emphasized, they do more than disrupt profits, “they mobilize communities and shed light on systemic complicity in oppression.”

By redefining resistance and replacing violence with solidarity — as well as turning despair into action — these campaigns show that real change often starts with small, consistent acts of defiance. They turn everyday consumer choices into acts of protest and show that solidarity, when multiplied, can challenge violence and inspire a shared vision for justice. Ultimately, they prove that, even in the face of injustice, ordinary people can drive extraordinary change.