By Matt Golden
Director, Jewish Community Relations Council
Jewish Community Relations Council director Matt Golden
From the JCRC perspective, I could have written about a lot of things we did last week. There was a visit to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in D.C., where 30 eighth graders learned how to combat antisemitism. There was a trip to Frankfort to witness the unveiling of a gun-safety law focused on reducing suicides and mental health-related violence in Kentucky. There was our Zoom presentation with Israeli intelligence analyst Avi Melamed about Iran’s involvement with Hamas. But for me at this juncture, what may be most important is a story from Jewish antiquity: the baby with two heads.
There are a surprising number of references to two-headed babies in Jewish literature. Why? I don’t know, but there are. Typical of our Jewish texts, these examples of two-headed babies usually arise in the form of a question. Such as, “If you have a two-headed baby, on which head does the tefillin go?” And between which eyes? If you have a two-headed, first-born baby, do you pay one redemption price or two? If you have a two-headed baby, does the baby inherit only one portion of the estate? Or should the two heads share equally with the single-headed siblings?” Arguments inevitably ensue.
Regarding the last example’s debate over whether a two-headed baby gets one share of an inheritance or two, a proposal was made to solve the question. The suggestion: hurt one of the heads and see if the other head cries out. If both heads cry out, the person with two heads is deemed to be a single individual. If, on the other hand, only one head cries out, they are considered two separate identities. In short, if they could not share in each other’s pain, they were not “one.”
There is much to be learned from this debate right now.
Before October 7, there was a major schism forming in the American Jewish diaspora over the future “heart” of Israel. The reelection of Benjamin Netanyahu and the appointments of cabinet ministers like Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich were discussed and debated in pulpits, around dinner tables, and at JCRCs in communities across the United States, including our own. The dismantling of the Israeli Supreme Court’s “reasonableness” standard forced many here in America to “pick a side” over what Israel should stand for. We were polarized, and most here chose the side against the government and against the dismantling of principles we hold dear. We felt we were standing for Israel.
Yet on October 7, when Hamas terrorists applied a “hurt” in Israel, the American Jewish diaspora “cried out.” We were the proverbial two-headed person. We felt the visceral nature of the death, destruction, rape and torture. We looked at the elderly and the children held hostage as our own. The pain many of us felt was as real here as it was in Israel. In that space, it felt natural to stand up in that unity, at least for me. The Federation and clergy held rallies and discussions; we raised money for humanitarian causes in the emergency as part of a nationwide effort; we worked with Jewish Family & Career Services to support people in need of healing; we enhanced security at our Jewish institutions, and we put up reminders to not forget our hostages. Importantly, we are making outreach to our Muslim friends in the community as they struggle, too. We are still doing those things every day. In those actions, we feel like we “stand with Israel” in all the ways that define who we are.
I want to take a minute and explain that phrase, “standing with Israel” and what it means to me. I believe in a Jewish state. I believe in the people of Israel. I believe that for the past several thousand years, when people wept “by the rivers of Babylon,” or cried out amid pogroms, inquisitions, as dhimmi, in ghettos, in exile, or as they were gassed and burned, the idea and ideal of Israel was what they wept for. And the joy of standing in a place of self-determination as Jews where Jewish values could be the ideal, that was worth crying for too. History has shown us that we need a Jewish state. That is what standing with Israel means to me.
Does that mean that I stand up for all the wrongs Israel does as a nation? Of course not. As I write this, there are at least 20,000 Palestinians dead in a war instigated by Hamas. Those people are human beings with hopes and dreams and their precious lives are no more. Israeli soldiers are being killed in clashes with Hamas. A few days ago, an Israeli soldier killed three escaped Israeli hostages. Two Christian women were killed in the last enclave of Christianity in Gaza. To me, there is no “collateral damage” in war — there is only damage. Again, in my opinion, Israel can prosecute a war surgically and narrowly and prioritize the negotiation for the return of hostages. I believe it must. In voicing that opinion, I feel that I am standing with Israel, too. There will be people who disagree with me and, in so doing, they stand with Israel in another way.
It should not be lost on us that there are moms and dads here in our community whose sons and daughters are deployed in Israel right now. They need and deserve our support. There are members of our community that believe sending a card to a soldier or displaced person is the best that they can do in the moment. There are people here pointing to the rocket strikes from Hezbollah, Islamic Jihad, Lions’ Den, and Yemenese Houthi rebels that have been unrelenting since the war began. There are those who stand with Israel in the face of Hamas’s political leader, Ismail Haniyeh, who vows to attack again, and again, and again, until Israel is no more. All of them stand for Israel, and all stand for Israel in a different way.
And we must acknowledge that there are members of our community who do not feel this way at all. Since I began drafting this article, I had the opportunity to meet with several people in our community who manifestly want peace. Their disappointment in the Netanyahu regime is genuine and they cannot fathom the civilian losses being justified in Gaza. They want a cease fire. You may agree with them, or you may not. They may be in a minority, but keep in mind that they are part of the people Israel, and they feel the pain of this war just as much as anyone else. In meeting with them, I stand for them, too.
I first discussed the person-with-two-heads with Rabbi David over lunch a few weeks ago. I must tell you that the concept of a story about someone intentionally hurt to prove a point was initially off-putting. However, as a metaphor, the idea that we can be inexorably intertwined in our pain and in our grief with a people across the ocean, or just across town, is apt. That we can simultaneously grieve the loss of Jewish life and the loss of Palestinian life is a testament to some sages who knew, a thousand years later, that we would still need to study the story of a baby with two heads.
Matt Golden is a lawyer and the Director of the Jewish Community Relations Council. In his opinion, the JCRC is the most august body in the Jewish Community, seeking justice and doing tikkun olam. He is admittedly very partial and biased in this regard. He invites comments, suggestions or good stories at mgolden@jewishlouisville.org.