How Race, Ethnicity, and Politics Reconstruct Identities of Young Diaspora Jews

When returning to the United States from overseas, I've found that it feels good to hear a customs official say "Welcome Home" after stamping my passport. The guy I spoke with at JFK last month forgot that part, mostly because he was floored by the notion that young Jews like me regularly receive free two week vacations to Israel, valued at between $3,000 and $5,000 apiece. I could understand why it might seem suspicious to him, but since I assured him that the Israeli government barely helps fund these programs anymore, they shouldn't raise any national security concerns. I didn't really attempt to answer his toughest question: "Why?" There are myriad potential answers to this question, but I offered the simplest explanation I could think of at the time: "Because I'm Jewish..."

As soon as the phrase had crossed my lips, I began to think that the trip had been successful in more ways than I had thought. I had said it in such a prideful way, perhaps even with a slight hint of indignance. I came to the realization that during my three weeks away, I had been "othered", or had "othered" myself, depending on how one views individual agency in such a process. I don't think I had ever given that answer before in my life, certainly never in response to a serious question. The words exuded difference, the unchosen sort that my parents had hoped to avoid giving me. Regardless, it just seemed to be an excessively ethnic stance for a fourth generation American to be taking on the border of his own country. More shockingly, the statement wasn't even really true. A more honest answer would have been: "Because I'm just Jewish enough to qualify."

My mother was not Jewish so I'm at best half Jewish "on the wrong side", as they say. In classic old-Testament fashion, membership in the tribe is passed matrilinealy because before modern paternity tests, it wasn't possible to know for sure who the father of a child was. Although today, in some very reformed (read: American) denominations of Judaism I might be considered Jewish, within the state of Israel, I would not be. This is not some folksy convention or wholly religious ruling - it is clearly written on one's national identity card. This is very much a political calculation too, though one that is more important to the politics of religious Israelis than to the secular. It is official policy, as per the determinations of the state's orthodox Chief Rabbinate, that people like me must undergo (re)conversion to become Jewish in under Jewish law. This may seem unfair or antiquated, but at least in my case, it could be considered an effective rule of thumb.

Had my mother been Jewish, things may very well have been different. However, to this day I've never practiced Judaism outside of an occasional visit to a synagogue service or a Passover dinner with friends. I don't keep Shabbat or fast on Yom Kippur. Perhaps more egregiously, I was never bar mitzvahed. Sure, I was circumcised, but that was more about keeping cultural norms than keeping the covenant. Even setting all these ritually demonstrative, somewhat legalistic behaviors aside, for many I would fail the test outright because I do not believe in God. For these reasons, I probably should not be considered Jewish. Still, this doesn't mean that Jews or Israel would ever abandon me. As was emphasized throughout my trip, in this day and age, it is increasingly difficult to un-Jew oneself. Under the 1970 amendment to the Israel's "Law of Return", I am eligible for Israeli citizenship as someone who is Jewish enough to have been persecuted under the Nuremburg Laws. So, even if I marry a Gentile woman, our one-quarter children will be too.

These facts taken together are what made me extremely eligible for the "birthright gift". This use of the term may sound unfamiliar to Americans because the term "birthright" is often employed by neo-nativist movements hoping to deprive [illegal] immigrants' children of citizenship. The racially and politically charged nature of the word scared me as well, so I was surprised to find during the application process that revealing my Jewish shortcomings didn't seem to hurt my chances. The interviewer was only really concerned about verifying that I wasn't involved with "Jews for Jesus", an evangelical Christian group focused on converting the chosen people. Now I had heard that these trips were easy to come by, but come on! I really offered little to no real evidence of tribal membership other than my last name. I wanted to experience at least a little bit of the Jewish guilt or elitism I had heard so much about, if only to make me feel as though I had earned my ticket.

Yet "the gift" was freely given, almost graciously, with no strings attached or self-recrimination necessary. It was only later on that I began to understand that these trips are specifically aimed at people like me. Why? Jewish philanthropists in America will gladly pay for my voyage, but not just out of pure goodwill. You see, these trips are very much part of a political project, one that hopes to "reconstruct" Jewish identity and put it to use in specific ways. The trip I went on is actually supposed to only be available to those with very limited Jewish backgrounds, that is to say, those who didn't go to Hebrew school, rarely went to temple, and had never visited Israel before. Sure, some bonafide "good" Jews managed to get on the trip, but I tend to believe this was either the organizers didn't have enough estranged applicants or because they wanted to establish some balance by bringing some appropriate role models along. I wouldn't be so conspiratorial about this had I not met a fellow trip member who revealed to me that she had been to Israel three times previously, twice in the last two years no less!

Birthright's target audience seem to be individuals viewed as perilously close to complete assimilation into the mass of white, secular America. Jews are often viewed as just another European immigrant wave lucky enough to get this opportunity, but many in the Zionist camp would be extremely unhappy with this outcome. Judaism, more so perhaps than the other great religions, is all about sustaining difference. This is most evident by the modern self-ghettoization of religious Jews in Israel. The animosity between them and their secular brethren is often quite easy to perceive, even as a tourist. However, this isn't nearly as disturbing to either's sensibilities as total accommodation to the "goy" way of life. As has already been established, I am an extremely assimilated American Jew, even more than most of my companions on the trip. Up until I started studying "Jewishness" more broadly a few weeks before my departure, I was very "light" on the subject matter.

I knew plenty about the violent modern history of anti-semitism - the Spanish Inquisition, Cossack raids in the Pale of Settlement, Nazi genocide, and the less systematic pogroms that occurred in countless times and places in between. However, everything else I knew about "us" was more or less speculation and hearsay. Not that I needed to brandish Jewish credentials very often, but to my credit, when I was pigeonholed by my name, I could fake it a bit by relying on knowledge I had picked up haphazardly from pop culture. It was sort of like my understanding of New York City. My father's family was from there, so he had given me different books set in the city when I was in middle school. I can only clearly remember two: one was about the life of a Jewish boy from a rabbinical family in the Lower East Side and the other was about a poor black boy growing up in Hell's Kitchen. Stories of strict yeshivas and violent ghettos (black and Jewish) were equally frightening to me, but they certainly made a lasting impression on my cultural and geographic understanding of Manhattan. Anyhow, being from a place without a large Jewish community made it more likely that questioning Jews I met either didn't know too much either or at least didn't want to alienate a potential coreligionist.

In many ways, this was the overarching attitude on the trip as well. When I arrived at Ben Gurion airport, Israeli customs officials didn't ask tough questions of me until I asked them not to stamp my passport. It was inconceivable to them that I might want to visit the Arab gulf states one day. Still, once I had demonstrated enough Jewish heritage (good thing I studied!), I got past them and was quickly greeted by much more jovial government employees holding colorful "Welcome Home" posters. These weren't bureaucrats or soldiers, but individuals whose sole mission for the next two weeks would be to ingratiate Israel to American Jews. This is their "national service" in lieu of joining the military. They are generally very religious young women (they literally don't touch men) with extremely sunny dispositions. Over the next two weeks, these guides would use a wide variety of techniques to achieve their goal, however, they started off simple, plying us with warm welcomes and baked goods.

Contrast this with my return experience at JFK or any other time you've visited a foreign land and you'll begin to understand why this experience is truly unique. Again, the initial "Why?" question begs many more questions about the exceptionalist nature of Israel and it's relationship to worldwide Jewry. Irish Americans receive no free trips to Ireland and British Hindus get no free trips to India. Why don't their ethnic/religious/political affiliations earn their diaspora populations free vacations to their ancestral lands? It isn't that they wouldn't be welcomed there or wouldn't be able to attain citizenship. Yet, Israel is not just a nation I have ethnic ties to - I could go to Sweden or Armenia for that matter. It is the only one that is actively recruiting me. As far as I can tell, it is the only nation in the world actively engaged in such a large scale project. For Jews, Israel is the most inclusive place in the world. They have to demonstrate only minimal good faith in order to get receive generous government subsides for emigrating there. To many others though, especially its neighboring populations, it's one of the most exclusionist around.

This phenomena is unique not just because it doesn't happen anywhere else in the world, but because it almost couldn't conceivably under any existing circumstantial realities. Greek and Chinese parents in America may send their children to local ethnic schools and perhaps on to summer camps abroad if they have the means to do so, but no one abroad is seriously trying to lure them back to their ancestral homeland. Who would be sufficiently motivated by political exigencies to pay for such trips en masse? Thus, it is important to understand that Birthright Israel is a political project first and foremost. The ultimate ambition of these trips (different from their advertised mainstream purpose) would be to convince Jews to emigrate to Israel. However, their less outlandish aim is to foster in their participants a more visceral long-distance relationship with Israel. I will attempt to demonstrate how the new parameters of race and ethnicity are utilized in a highly effective manner to accomplish this mission.

I had a number of serious conversations with fellow trip-goers about the bells-and-whistles "Welcome Home" greeting we received at the airport. Almost everyone found it startling, but a few people were really put off by it. They saw it as a somewhat crude attempt to undermine the place of America, their "real" home. It is important to recall that everyone on my trip was just coming of age when 9/11 happened and that the year or two following that event were times of unabashed flag waving, the likes of which had not been experienced so intensely since their grandparents' era. Thus, it would seem like a bad idea to try and prime nationalistic sentiment by superimposing the concept of "home" over an Israeli flag. I can't comment much on the juxtaposition since I'd like to think that I was never much of a patriot and hence don't get the same sort of visceral revulsion at the prospect of being quasi-traitorous. Although it might not fit so well on a sign, the message they were trying to get across to us was "Welcome to your potential new home - you can move whenever you like!"

I read between the lines and immediately liked what I saw. We often hear people say that America is a nation of immigrants. In the case of Israel, that's literally true. If you don't count the people who live in the West Bank (the remaining illegally occupied territory), two thirds of Israel's citizens were not born there. Jewish immigration is valued highly in service of outpacing growth in indigenous Arab populations that live within its legal borders, which is seen by many as the most important factor in the state's continuing survival. All this is to say that Jews emigrating there shouldn't expect much resentment directed at them from the natives. If you have Information Age job skills and are willing to learn some Hebrew (not an easy task by any means), they would be more than happy to see you come. So happy in fact that the state and their friendly associate institutions are willing to subsidize your move and integration to the tune of $30,000 over three years. This doesn't take into account the other benefits one receives as a citizen in a Western European style welfare state. The Israeli birthrate is the highest amongst developed nations partly because the state provides financial rewards and helpful childcare services to its parents.

As an esteemed visitor, this was the case being made constantly, albeit mostly innocuously, throughout my trip. From what I understand, they've toned down the pitch a bit over the last couple of decades as Israelis have become less sold on the idea that Israel is the best place for Jews to live. The constant security threats and economic troubles of the 1980s prompted persistent emigration to America and other places. Still, hardliners will readily proclaim that it's the only place in the world Jews can (or should) really live. The weather is sure nice enough. So, if you are Jewish and don't mind the thought of 1) being high on the potential "first nuked" list 2) being periodically at war with neighboring nations 3) putting aside thoughts of being randomly killed by rockets or bombs 4) your children likely having to serve in the Army for three years 5) paying European style tax rates 6) living in the midst of a protracted "culture war" between the religious and non-religious elements of society (just like at home!), well, then you'll like it just fine. I can't say that these downsides were highlighted on my trip, but one becomes aware of them fairly quickly.

Anyhow, even if you do come to the conclusion that it's a mixed bag, at least it is a historical and exciting one! Allow me to slip into a promoter's voice for a moment...

The Birthright trips consist of at least ten days of all expense paid touring around the Israel. The country is about the size of New Jersey, so even in that short amount of time, it's easy to see quite a lot. During this time, you will be with a large group of Jewish young people who you'll find are a lot like you. [Scarily like you... a sociologist's dream realization for undergrads.] Remember, in Israel, everyone who is single is a Jewish single! You'll be happy to know that a group of Israeli soldiers your age will be traveling with your group to provide protection, intercultural exchange, and a fun way to make some local friends. [To entice those that might require further enticing, it's important to note that the majority of them will be single males. Men in relationships are strongly urged not to take up another eligible male's opportunity.] We'll be heading to all the major Jewish historical sites and staying at kibbutz and resort hotels in between them. You'll be given some free time in which to explore Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, the city market in the former and the new port entertainment district in the latter. We'll be having a lot of fun, but also reconnecting with our Jewish traditions along the way - that means observing Shabbat and taking our discussions together seriously. [You'll be exposed to a series of somewhat structured messages designed for the gentle persuasion of people just like you.]

As much as it can be parodied, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. As far as I can tell, it was really fun for me and everyone else around me who was involved. I never knew intensive tour bus travel could be so enjoyable. I liked most of the people on my trip and thought fairly highly of my guides, even if I didn't agree with their chosen lifestyles or politics a lot of the time. I had chosen to go with the most progressive "trip provider" available and they were incredibly open minded. Of course, I still had myriad qualms with many of the ideas being proposed, but no one at any time tried to deprive me of them. I said things to Israelis they would have easily earned me a "love it or leave it" from the patriots back home, but certainly did not there. Plus, I had the chance to elaborate on them in sensitive settings. The thing we did most often on our trip was to mark our struggles and mourn our dead. The vast majority of sights we saw on the trip were places where Jews died for seemingly noble reasons, albeit often in ignoble fashion. Here's a listing:

Man made caves (in cisterns) from the Bar Kochba revolt wherein Jewish villagers would hide from Roman patrols
The ruins of Gamla, one of the first cities to be conquered during the Roman invasion
The Western Wall of the last Temple which was destroyed by the Roman military, subsequently exiling all Jews from Israel
The ruins of the fortress at Masada, the site of a suicide pact involving the last anti-Roman resister
A cemetery containing the pantheon of early Zionist pioneers to the land of Israel
The national cemetery containing Israel's heads of state, distinguished soldiers, and terror victims
The national holocaust museum and archives - Yad Vashem

If there is a better example of the structured enaction of collective memory, I cannot think of one. Anyone with a national heritage can go see their important historical sites, but I cannot imagine that they would be so uniformly macabre or situated in such close in proximity to one another. It is said that people do not normally just war with the Jews, they try to exterminate them. If you can, try to imagine just our first day trip, which entailed crawling around in tiny underground passages in order to reach claustrophobic little rooms where all lights would be extinguished in order to help us imagine people hiding there for hours (or days) in silence. I feel no shame in admitting that I felt the need to drink quite a bit later on that night.

The crucial stop that's missing from the above intinerary is the Auchwitz concentration camp. While I had the privilege to visit it in Poland a number of years ago, it didn't evoke the same kind of emotional response. Perhaps it was the fact that it was major tourist stop for non-Jews who didn't (couldn't) have the same kind of connection and understanding of its significance. I remember wanting to see the place shut down after witnessing young people horsing around and posing for photos on the oven slabs - suddenly looking serious for the shot. How could a scene central to one of humanity's greatest crimes, one perpetrated on people like me ("my people" as some might say), have evoked a significantly less emotional response? Setting, that is to say, one's social and mental context, deeply shades experience. Although most of the sites of Jewish horror we visited in Israel were far older and arguably less destructive (in terms of casualty figures), the mood was far more grim overall. Listening to regularly scheduled accounts of our ancestors' decimation made for an somewhat solemn atmosphere that is decidedly difficult to laugh off.

If Birthright trips now seem to the reader to be excessively heavy on this dark theme, try to keep in mind that Judaism as a whole is incredibly focused on this as a device for cultural preservation. In other words, we're used to it. A woman on my trip summed up the received wisdom as such, "From the smattering of holidays my family celebrated, the common message I picked up was that someone was always trying to kill us because we were different and didn't want to be like them. Well, look what happened to our persecutors. We're still here, they're not, that's why we must remain different." It is of course the increasing levels of doubt surrounding the last part of that statement which motivates these trips. The mandatory rhetorical follow up question has become: "So, Jews survived two thousand years of homelessness and persecution so that these latest generations would have the freedom to abandon their people and traditions?" On this trip, as on so many of those holidays, what was of utmost importance was remembering those people who were made to suffer and die because they were Jewish and refused to be anything else.

My point is not that this constant recounting of suffering is wholly unjustified, nor will I emphasize it as a Machiavellian means of promoting in-group solidarity. However, I also cannot let the "tradition" explanation of stand without critique. We were in the land of the Bible, a place where people are supposedly able to "walk through its pages" and put the stories in spatial and archeological context. We did very little of this on my trip. This could be because the organizers thought our "lack of background" would make us less able to appreciate these connections or because they assumed many people on the trip didn't "believe" and would be bored or offended by such "religious" activities. Whatever the reason, they settled on organizing the trips more heavily around the theme of struggle and loss instead. It seems to me that this is a highly effective mechanism of framing our existence as that of lucky survivors with the ability and responsibility to carry on the Jewish way of life.

Honoring our dead comes with an somewhat unspoken responsibility to be vigilant against those might threaten the security of Jewish life. Such challenges might come from within our native lands, from abroad, or from our own community. Of this latter sort, not choosing to marry a Jew is seen as the greatest internal threat, one on which numerous persuasive tracts have been written and many a lecture given, even one to us on the trip which posed as an session on "intimacy". One of the running jokes on my trip was that any male soldier who succeeded in impregnating an American Jew would receive a medal and special commendation. Some organizations actually do offer to pay for the weddings and honeymoons (in Israel of course) of couples who get married based on their experiences together doing Birthright. The argument is that blood is the only thing which will preserve our way of life in a world that increasingly hostile to practitioners of such a demanding and insular religion. This is, of course, a blatantly racial argument at its core, which leads us to the second security concern: the Arabs. On our trip, we were treated to a particularly soapboxy denunciation of Iran, replete with maps of the region depicting paths of Iranian aggression (influence) in a style extremely reminiscent of those depicting Nazi aggression in Europe during WWII.

The "us against them" argument is palpable in almost any political conversation with an Israeli today, especially if you're a Jew. I cannot shake off the feeling of bitter irony when I look at the multitude of common cultural traits Jews and Arabs share. As was demonstrated at a few different times on my trip, the two groups are so phenotypically similar that they cannot tell each other apart without the help of cultural cues. While at the Dead Sea, a soldier pointed out a group of young people in bathing suits acting somewhat less than civilly as emblematic of how young Arabs behave. A moment later, he had to revise this assessment when one asked him for a cigarette in apparently unaccented Hebrew. Young Israelis today pepper their Hebrew with Arabic slang, which is easy to do as the languages are closely related to each other. Falafel, hummus, and shawarma seem to be three of the five food groups in Israel. Popular music very often contains middle eastern instruments and rhythms. Yet, the divide could not be much greater. It can be seen in the way Arab service personnel are treated and the attitude the authorities exude while detaining commuters at bus stations in East Jerusalem. It pained me to see these conditions, but then again, I could not play ignornat and say that I did not know about them before I came.

I made prudent efforts to inoculate myself against such base racism (it's more ideological sister propaganda made only an occasional appearance) by reading diverse accounts of the social and political challenges surrounding modern Israel and Israeli life. I already knew the Palestinian side of the story well enough from my stint as a teenage lefty and had been following the hubbub surrounding publication of "The Jewish Lobby." Still, it was important for me to think about what the organizers' ambitions for its alumni might be. Although the Birthright trips are nominally about education (of a very ethnically charged sort), I had an inkling that the millions of dollars being spent on this initiative had higher aims. It certainly has something to do with encouraging trip goers to support the state of Israel at home in America. This probably doesn't matter much if the sought after behavior is simply voting for pro-Israel politicians. If however (as Birthright's exit surveys suggest), that support can be extended to engaging in conversations, debates, and demonstrations in favor of Israel, it could be more useful. Still, I remain unconvinced that short of convincing participants making aliya (moving to Israel), the political bang for buck will be relatively low. It's certainly good for the Israeli tourist economy and must win points as the pinnacle of Jewish community outreach, but something like $100 million per year seems like a large investment. Maybe it's just a great tax write off for donors, but if we're just throwing money around here, I would encourage them to instead direct their resources towards helping Israeli social services deal with increasingly intractable problems of social inequality on a national scale.

The whole spirit of Israel relies on the idea that it is the Jewish homeland. Embracing the place as "homeland" includes the responsibility not just to live within its borders and defend them, but to develop it. This work to "make the desert bloom" was the primary means by which Zionist pioneers reconnected with the land throughout most of the twentieth century. However, as Israel has shifted away from an agriculture based economy, fewer Israelis seem to want to get their hands dirty with this sort of work. After independence, new Sephardic Jewish refugees from Arab countries were employed to do the more menial work. Later, during times of peace, Arabs were allowed to gain employment in this sector. Today, Asians and South Americans are increasingly imported on temporary work visas to supplement existing Ethiopian (and some Russian crypto-Jews) lumpenprole refugee populations. The combined Socialist and Zionist ideology that could once be called the state's secular religion has waned along with its most unique native social formation, the kibbutz. Now that most native born Israelis (known as sabras) seek more globalized jobs in finance and technology, it is increasingly difficult to perceive what ties them to the land. Perhaps universal army service, which has become far less universal in recent years, shores up some otherwise declining features of Israeliness. Still, there is a significant difference between being an immigrant nation and being one that relies on a permanently disenfranchised underclass to do its heavy lifting.

The aspect of Israel I find most discomforting is its particular blend of American style militarism with European style barriers to full citizenship. What makes this combination especially dangerous is the large fundamentalist element in the mix. The ultra orthodox (haredi) Jews in Israel make our evangelicals (even in their most unreasonable portrayals) look somehow tame. Agreed, fundamentalists anywhere and in almost any capacity scare me, but especially when they wield such political power. In religious neighborhoods, freedom of expression has been effectively repealed by God-squad zealots. Dressing immodestly there anytime or driving cars through on Saturday will result in dirty diapers (and if you're unlucky, stones) being hurled in your direction. Thus, being stopped by an apocalyptic born again German Christian in the Jewish quarter of Jerusalem's Old City seemed strange. He couldn't have been formally proselytizing because the activity is illegal in Israel, but he did want to let me know that my people should stop rejecting the messiah - adding that George Bush was a heroic man of God whose example we should all follow. It's hard to believe that rejection stuff after just witnessing large groups of haredim at the Western Wall dancing in circles while chanting with protest cadence alternately in Yiddish, Hebrew, and English: "We want Messiah! When do we want him? Now!"

Whether or not these groups understand the differences in their spiritual ambitions or their real world consequences I cannot say, but I can offer some implications. Many haredim don't recognize the state of Israel (they will recognize only their rabbis' authority until the messiah arrives), so the good news is that most don't ever fight in the army. However, just like the parents in the recent Jesus Camp documentary, they are busy raising large armies of indoctrinated children in their very insular religious neighborhoods. Some are more politically extreme and/or messianic than others, but as a whole they affect politics in fairly consistent ways. These are the people building the illegal settlements in the West Bank. They form the backbone of the opposition to any "land for peace" deals. This is the population least likely to speak English, watch the news, go to university, or work in a mainstream office job. Associating with secular Jews is frowned upon. Those they consider to be goy, like me, are strictly off limits. Many believe that in order to achieve their messianic ambitions, all Jews need to move back to Israel and become observant of the commandments - though I'm sure the requisite proportion of those 413 differs depending on who you ask.

I might argue that these extremely religious Jews were used as props, or foils, during the trip. Although it was made clear to us that they are an important group of Israelis to understand, they were the used as an "overboard" example one should not try and emulate. It was assumed that modern Jews like us would never be able to rationalize or abide their strictures anyway. It was a life that most of them were born into. Others thrust themselves into such societies when they lose hope that they would find meaning elsewhere in life, often with painful results for themselves and their loved ones. At the opposite end of the spectrum, it was assumed that we didn't want to become completely assimilated Jews either, or why would we be on the trip? Anyhow, to abandon all vestiges of of Jewish identity was almost tantamount to becoming self-hating Jews, those who are wont to admit their heritage in public and may even be anti-Israel. It was made clear that no one was asking us to become religious, emigrate, or even proclaim ourselves Zionists. Yet, it was assumed that after you learned the disastrous history lessons, after meeting real decent Israeli people, and understanding that you were already Jewish enough for Israel, it wouldn't really matter whether you formally adopted that ideology or not. You were already there.

That last point is of utmost importance. It was emphasized to us throughout the trip that we could never "un-Jew" themselves through non-observance, intermarriage, conversion, or other, more ghastly acts. That means even that "crazy" Jew who went to Tehran to play nice with Ahmadinejad in 2006 will be spared. It should be remembered that it was not always this easy to join the team and remain on the field. There are plenty of people who have been excommunicated and shunned by their communities for far less. I was surprised to find out that US Senator Joseph Lieberman was excommunicated by a rogue rabbinical court in New York for voting to allow partial birth abortion in that state. For a more venomous historical case, read the biography of Baruch Spinoza. Oddly, this lenience makes Judaism seem perhaps even looser than Christianity in its treatment of sins and forgiveness. It would be dishonest to suggest that this is the dominant theological current in Judaism today, especially in Orthodox circles. They are not as willing to overlook individuals' shortcomings (from the perspective of Jewish law) in order to get more bodies into Israel or to gain more political support abroad.

Yet, this somewhat lax interpretation is the one with the most resonance for people like us. I heard my trip mates commonly refer to themselves as "bad Jews" for not practicing their religion or participating in the life of their community. Most used this seemingly harsh self referential judgment in jest, but I think it also alludes to more serious feelings of guilt and disconnect many may have. I feel guilty writing this because it is critical of Jews and Israel. I feel worse because I had such a good personal experience and readers might not be able to separate criticism of systems and criticism of individuals. It feels like stabbing a friend in the back or at least like looking a gift horse in the mouth. However, this guilt itself is a sign of connection and compassion. A strategy for those that who want to strengthen such a connection would be to offer me a way to assuage this uneasyness. It's like extending a hand to someone who has fallen and showing them a handrail leading to an open door of a house. They were just letting us know that we fell under an open access policy should we ever wish to take it. Telling us that we were in fact "good Jews" and providing a safe space in which to treat each other as such certainly helps us come to believe it ourselves.

Such offers of unconditional acceptance clearly have a dimension of persuasion to them, as does the structure of the entire trip. I don't want to lean too heavily on social psychological concepts, but there are a number to choose from which relate quite well to this experience. Being on the trip meant at least going through "Jewish motions", whether this meant keeping kosher, observing the sabbath, or singing songs in Hebrew. It is generally true that behavior shapes attitudes more effectively than attitudes shape behavior. Cognitive dissonance describes the mental state of a person who is engaging in behaviors that do not conform to their attitudes. To reduce dissonance, one must either stop engaging in the behavior or change their attitude. Thus, one's continuing cooperation can only be justified in two basic ways 1) I did them because I want to 2) I did them because I was coerced by peer pressure. Adopting the second explanation can be very damaging to an individual's sense of autonomy and self-esteem. This is not to say that this was in any way a "brainwashing" expedition, just that all structured group interactions all exhibit these psychological dynamics.

My point is that the Birthright "gift" is in no way just a touching gesture. Its aim is to change participant's attitudes: about Judaism, Jews, Israel, and how they should relate to each other in one's life and world view. In many ways, the formation of the state of Israel 60 years ago made Judaism a much more realpolitik religion. It has specific political interests that it furthers by encouraging its members (and potential members) to "keep the faith." The ongoing war against assimilation and intermarriage abroad is tied into the ongoing war for the continued survival of the state. Birthright came about at a time when it was believed that young diasporic Jews were losing interest in supporting Israel, at least partially because of the negative light under which its "security activities" are been portrayed in the world media. Think of it as a expensive and long term public relations campaign aimed at its overseas constituency, albeit one demonstrating increasingly poor voter turnout. Now, I might not be a politician, but I get suspicious nonetheless when special interest groups acting as proxy lobbyists for a foreign state offer to wine and dine me for a couple weeks. That colors my Israeli "Welcome Home" in a particular way. So sue me if you think this shows bad faith!

Addendum:

Here's a letter to the editor I wrote responding to a piece about the program in a progressive local arts/culture magazine. It's called The Satelite and I regularly (not religiously) read this magazine and rarely find anything this egregious, but then again, I'm not very invested in my local political or creative arts scenes. The author saying how great her trip was and how she went to Petra and what not... so I thought I'd encourage a bit more balance.

Dear Ed,

Your February cover story on Birthright Israel bothered me quite a bit. The author and I were actually over there at the same time, albeit on slightly different trips, but engaged in very similar activities. Though we both enjoyed our experiences mightily, I feel compelled to play the cynic here. First off, why juxtapose the phrase "Birthright Israel" over a photo of Petra, replete with exoticized Jordanians and their camels? You've probably confused some people my age into thinking that Israel has rebuilt the ruins that Indy destroyed when he removed the holy grail from its resting place. Fine, maybe this is more of a cosmetic critique, so I'll move on...

I don't take issue with the facts or style of Ms. Mazur's article, just its lack of critical context. You just ran a fairly standard promo piece for the world's largest ethnoreligiously restricted free vacation package. Every Jewish organization I've ever encountered is already pushing this program hard in much the same fashion. While there are indeed a lot of eligible Jews in Gainesville, I don't think this extra marketing was really necessary. As Birthright's yearly budget approaches $100 million, one would think they would be able to get the word out well enough. Moreover, is the story about the program or her vacation? If it's really the latter, I guess that's cool, but since the vast majority of your audience won't ever be eligible to take that trip (for free or otherwise), I can't understand why you'd bother teasing them with it. Sure, they too can pay full price to go to Petra, but that's got nothing to do with Israel or the Birthright experience.

Finally, "this crazy thing" is indeed called "Birthright". Any bells going off yet? Think about the the implications of that word for a while. The last gentile I heard that tossing it around domestically was Lou Dobbs or some other pseudo-populist trying to convince us to deny citizenship to the children of "illegal" immigrants. Now we're using it in the context of Israel, arguably the most contentious nation in the most contentious region on the globe. Even if The Satellite or its authors have Zionist leanings, why not try and offer some kind of political backdrop for that ideological stance? Some intelligent follow up question might be: What are the goals of Birthright? Who funds these programs and why? If you end up believing it's all really innocuous cultural enrichment, fine, but at least prop up a skeptical straw man and go through the motions. I mean, they're embedding more than a handful of IDF soldiers with every group! Hint, hint... they're not there for protection. Whatever you do, please don't turn around next month and run a piece favorable to those folks protesting local Army recruitment offices - that would just be blatantly hypocritical.

ALEX GOLDMAN
PhD Student/Teaching Assistant
Department of Sociology
University of Florida

Dear Mr. Goldman,

Thank you for you response to my article. Before I reply however, I would like to make the point that the article was a personal narrative, and it is no way expressed that "The Satellite or its authors have Zionist leanings."

I did not criticize the trip in my retelling, but my experience was different form yours. I actually feel less religious then when I left and I wasn't brainwashed to take zionist views. Just like you, I have a Christian mother, and I celebrate and appreciate both of my parents' religions. For me the trip was, quite simply, an amazing time.

The assignment was to explain Birthright Israel through my experiences (I couldn't go with a Christian group on a free trip to honduras that a friend took with her church. But I was still interested in learning about her time there.) You didn't enjoy it and I am sorry for that - use the pages as birdcage lining if that suits you.

I do have to contest a few of your points though. I did not name the trip "birthright," but that is what it is called. If your political views find that name offensive I apologize. I also clearly state in my article that the soldiers were not with us for protection. As far as the location of Petra, I would hope middle school geography covered that one. If not, that too is explained in the story. There are also more student Jews in Gainesville than anywhere else in the country, and despite what you might think, many of them are not aware of this program. I wasn't until I got to college, and only because I met someone who went.

If you want an investigative piece written on the ulterior motives of the trip to brainwash the apparently unintelligent, illiterate and geographically challenged youth of America then I invite you to write it. Hell, I'm sure I'll read it and agree with a lot of what you say.

But I made it through the system unscathed and ready to return to my tattooed, pierced and liberal but spiritual lifestyle. Until next time, I'm off to mother's pub to gorge on the biggest bacon cheeseburger I can get my paws on.

Sincerely,
Giselle Mazur

Dear Ed,

I couldn't help but notice that Ms. Mazur missed the point of my critique of the Birthright Israel trips in the last issue and I'd like to offer some thoughts as to why that might be. Though it could be because she views your mostly under-25 readership as being part and parcel of "the apparently unintelligent, illiterate and geographically challenged youth of America", I certainly hope this isn't the whole story. What seems more likely is that she misapprehends the nature of Zionism and its connection with the free trips to Israel offered to young Americans of Jewish descent. See, I'm not just throwing that term around as a political pejorative in the sense of "capitalist swine", "godless commie", or "Zionist occupier". I'm not passing judgment on Zionism, just as I won't weigh in on whether or not the Kurds or other national liberation movements should use violence to carve out homelands for their respective peoples.

What I am trying to say is that the ideology of Birthright Israel is above all Zionist, meaning that it has the interests of the Israeli state at its core. Their trips use a combination of racial, religious, and ethnic devices to work in service of this cause. It is important to understand that this is not intended to be just a fun vacation in the Middle East, but more of a recruitment drive. Zionism has always been quite inclusive in nature because it focused on bringing Jews to Israel, but it is now more interested in expanding the tent to include those who aren't really considered potential emigrants. These days, they'll take fellow travelers wherever they can find them, even half Jews on the "wrong side", body modifiers, or bacon cheeseburger lovers. Zionism at its core is about state and social policies, not religion. It was brought into fruition by mostly secular, left leaning Jews, yet these days is often seen as a movement with mostly conservative religious (and often Christian) backers.

These strange bedfellows have recognized that it's probably too late to change adults' assimilated lifestyles (tattoos and non kosher eating habits), but if they can make you feel a connection with Israel or strengthen your affinity for other Jews, then they are making progress. If a trip goer comes to like another one enough to consider marrying them, some Birthright organizations will offer a free honeymoon in Israel to reward this endogamy. Though the means through which such bonds are cultivated can be enjoyable for participants and might seem innocuous enough, there are some undeniable social psychological persuasion processes at work. The in vs. out group lines are drawn very clearly so that you know all the people on your trip are Jews while almost all the service workers attending to your needs in Israel are not. Much of the trip is structured around invoking the collective memory of times when various "others" tried to exterminate your ancestors - whether they be Romans, Germans, or Arabs. Also, everyone in the group is constantly participating in ethnic rituals (dancing, singing, cooking, etc.) focused on solidifying a sense of shared heritage and experience.

I don't call this stuff "brainwashing", but I do call it intensive group socialization. It seems unwise to think that such processes are ineffective or that one can consider themselves immune to them, especially since we just ran through a reenactment of the Stanford prison experiments a few years ago at Abu Ghraib. Now, I'm not saying these trips are really all that devious in nature, just that they are unique enough to warrant more context for Jews and the non-Jewish public alike. To conflate them with Christian missions to the developing world is just wrongheaded. Since Christians don't have a race, ethnicity, or nation to rally around and guard, it's an entirely different beast. By the way, my girlfriend went on one of those to Nicaragua back in 2002 as an out and out Jew, and not one of those for "Jews for Jesus" either. Actually, affiliating oneself with that belief system is one of the very few sure ways to be disqualified from the trip, which should be quite telling indeed.

ALEX GOLDMAN
PhD Candidate
Department of Sociology
University of Florida