An open letter to the Jewish nation (and its writers)

Haaretz

It’s 1 a.m.

Men are gathering in synagogues for Hoshana Rabah night. This is the last call for asking G-d for a good year. During the next twenty five hours G-d will put on our yearly destiny, a seal.

I am trying to pray but my thoughts constatly run in another way. The two young parents killed just in front of their kids and now two more men. All of them, only because they were Jews.

I look at myself in the mirror. I have two eyes, a not so perfect nose, I have two hands and I use my legs to walk.

What makes me different from the rest of the world? When members of my nation are brutally killed in front of their children, or in the streets of their holy city, while trying to reach the western wall, the world is silent. This is a fact.

For the world my blood has a lower price compared to others, my humanity has a lower specific weight.

Strong of my ancient experience,  I don’t expect anything new from there.

This is an olam hasheker, as our rabbis define it. In it, lies, do reign.

In it countries that raise their children in terrorism are chosen to defend human rights.

My expectations are going in another direction.

To the direction of those who stood up, just a few minutes after an innocent Palestinian child was shot by somebody whose identity has not been discovered yet, ready to make a strong J’accuse against the observant world.

My expectations are directed towards those who open their computers everytime a Jew is suspected for a negative act and shout ‘we cannot stay silent in front of this’.

I was taught by my rabbis we are made of body and soul.

While we can see the other’s external manifestation, we are not able to see its untangible one.

At our shabat table Jews of every color and observance degree sit. I respect everyone of them, for what he/she is.

We Jews are a whole body, when a part hurts all the body suffers.

When something happens in my nation, I do not need to analyze the religious background of a Jew to feel empaty with him.

It cannot be that a kipah, and zizit, a hunkerchief covering a woman’s head, make a difference for those who are always in first line to defend human rights. It cannot be that a victim is defined ‘ultra-orthodox’, in an Israeli newspaper.

My love for my nation is too deep to dare thinking my suspects can be right.

I hope  with all my heart to be wrong. I hope to see in a few hours all the israeli newspapers flooded by condemantion words.

I hope to see all those famous Jewish writers and journalists, who asked rabbis, teachers, politicians, to condemn acts before waiting to see what really happened. I hope to hear from them these words.

‘Our hearts are full of sorrow, we cannot be silent anymore. We will not stop asking the condemnation of these barbarian terrorist acts by all the arab world’.

When I see these words, I will now peace has really a chance.

Because in order to be able to get peace with your neighbors, you need firstable to be able to live in peace inside your own nation.

Shalom comes from the root shalem, whole. You cannot get real peace if you are not whole inside yourself.

May G-d seal our year with real shalom

Gheula Canarutto Nemni