blogs/rabbi-huberman

Perhaps no word is more misunderstood or misused—when it comes to Israel and the Jewish people—than Zionism.

It is often hurled as a slur against all Jews. But where does this word come from, and what does it actually mean?

The answer lies within this week’s parashah with a promise in made to Abraham and Sarah—Judaism’s first couple.

In the parashah, titled Lech Lecha—go forth—Abram and Sarai are commanded by God to leave their comfortable lives in Haran, in southern Turkey, to resettle in the land of Canaan, known today as Israel.

Late in the parashah, God makes a promise to Abraham.

“I assign the land you sojourn in to you and your offspring to come, all the land of Canaan, as an everlasting holding.” (Genesis 17:8)

And thus, the Jewish claim to Israel is biblically established.

The connection between the Jewish people and the land of Israel has always existed as both a physical and spiritual dream.

The idea of one day returning to Israel is reflected in the last phrase in the Passover Seder, as we pine for “Next Year in Jerusalem.”

I recall my grandparents—who immigrated to Canada from their Ukrainian shtetl in 1918—kissing the ground at Ben Gurion airport when my father brought them on a tour in 1969.

The idea of living within Jerusalem Shel Zahav—”Jerusalem of God”—has always remained within Jewish hearts, no matter where we dwelled.

This idea remained theoretical until the late 1800s, when after a series of trials, pogroms and anti-Semitic persecutions, the concept of Zionism took shape.

Europe’s Jewish leadership—led by Theodore Herzl—decided to relaunch the dream of an Israeli state, where Jews could be a majority, unfettered within a tiny strip of land along the Mediterranean, with desert to the south and a hilly multi-ethnic region to the north.

The concept of Zion was named after a specific location mentioned in the Book of Samuel, which describes King David’s conquest of a Jebusite fortress where Jerusalem stands today.

Samuel defines the location: “David took the stronghold of Zion; the same is the city of David.”  (2 Samuel 5:7) 

The idea was to establish a Jewish homeland where the inhabitants could live with dignity, where no one could target or harm them ever again.

This would also ensure that Jews could never again be considered outsiders. And aside from a few radicals, there was never a thought of making Israel an exclusive Jewish state.

I recall working three summers at an Israeli kibbutz, where according to 1948 borders—like the neck of a soda bottle—the map of Israel narrowed to barely five miles in width. 

In 1967, the Jordanian army hoped to cut across the bottle neck, establish a beachhead at the Mediterranean and proceed north and south to divide and conquer Israel. 

In recent years, because of Israel’s need for self-defense as it combats persistent terrorist attacks, it has become necessary to strengthen security and toughen its policy of unconditional inclusiveness.

And, as part of this ongoing war, Israel and the Jewish people have found no lack of enemies to paint the concept of Zionism as racist or exclusive. But nothing could be further from the truth.

I have visited Israel 18 times since 1969. Israel is in essence a trilingual country. All street signs and public places are delignated in Hebrew, Arabic and English.

Arab citizens receive free education and health care, and unlike most countries in the region, women can vote and the LGBTQ community is not vilified.

On the streets of Jerusalem and Haifa, Jews and Arabs walk side by side. They may not always be the best of friends—but they co-exist.

Except for some Israelis who seek to return Israel to the biblical boundaries, most of them simply thirst for a lasting peace.

There is point to all this: There is nothing inherently negative, racist or exclusive about the word Zionism.

The concept begins in this week’s parashah, where God promises the land of Canaan to Abraham and Sarah and their descendants. It is further defined in the Book of Samuel as Zion, a hill in Jerusalem.

And it was also embraced by European Jews when the United Nations ultimately granted them that small strip of swamp land barely the size New Jersey. 

Over time, the international perception of Zionism has changed. Politics, the anti-Israel movement, and inherent antisemitism have led to the misuse and misappropriation of the word.

But let us be clear about the importance of this week’s Torah portion, where Abraham and Sarah are commanded to establish roots in Canaan.

Throughout the Bible, “Zion” symbolizes both the tangible location of the city and the spiritual center of divine promises. Clearly, the idea of an inclusive Jewish state does not exclude or discriminate against others.

For in the end, after centuries of being persecuted and brutalized as outsiders in Europe and the Middle East, Herzl’s dream of a safe and confident nation endures in the hearts of many.

But enemies beware. We, as Jews, believe that the idea of Israel and that small biblical hill in Jerusalem are worth fighting for.

Our very existence depends on it.

That is why, based on the Torah, and the eternal dream of a peaceful inclusive Israel, I am a Zionist.

And I am proud of it.

Shabbat shalom, v’kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman