I've been battling the flu for almost three weeks, and as a result I've been consuming quite a lot of movies and TV shows. Last week, I stumbled upon a documentary called "Extreme Zionists," by the filmmaker Louis Theroux. I began to watch with a sense of trepidation, only to find myself faced with surprisingly familiar scenery. The people portrayed by this liberal British filmmaker as "extremists" were friends of mine, families in Samaria, in Hebron and Jerusalem, living in areas heavily populated with Arabs, some of them beyond the infamous Green Line. I had been to their houses, played with their kids and walked the streets to which the narrator was referring as occupied, and despite knowing who and where they were, I couldn't recognize the story being told against the backdrop of ominous music. I recalled that documentary when I read through Hagai El-Ad's speech given at the U.N. Security Council a few weeks ago. Both these things are about a narrative, rather than facts and figures, and both have captured large audiences all over the world. El-Ad is the head of B'Tselem, a human rights group that claims to function as an "Israeli information center for human rights in the occupied territories." In practice, it is a left-wing advocacy group. El-Ad's speech was titled "Illegal Israeli Settlements: Obstacles to Peace and the Two-State Solution." In it he called on the United Nations to take action against Israeli settlements, described Israel as a country working against peace with the Palestinians by advancing settlements, and said the Palestinians endured "invisible, bureaucratic daily violence" at the hands of Israel, "from the cradle to the grave." His speech left me wondering how he and I could have such wildly different images of Israel, its policies and its population, the very same questions and confusion I had after watching Theroux's work. They both portrayed the inhabitants of Jerusalem, Samaria and Hebron from the outside, as militants, evil-doers and extremists, whereas I know them as friends and fellow Jews, as people rather than causes. Perhaps even more astoundingly, the residents of these parts of Israel, and to a large extent all Israelis, are viewed and portrayed as the privileged party, when in fact we Jews are a minority in this world, so often suffering at the hands of an oppressor of one kind or another. Given our history and demography, we are bafflingly bad at projecting the reality we actually live in. Juxtapose that with, for example, President Barack Obama, who has done a marvelous job when it comes to emphasizing his place in history. He and the first lady recently hosted a musical event at the White House featuring all African-American artists. Listening to his opening speech, I must admit I was moved by the story that a black man had become president of a country with a history of slavery and racial injustice, and that he had brought African-American culture into the halls of power. I was moved because that narrative was presented to me by a brilliant combination of facts laced with warmth and emotion. A cynic could refer to it as public relations, but that is not to be scoffed at, as it often is much more effective than a mere presentation of facts. It is disappointing to see how bad the Jewish people in general and the Israeli leadership in particular are at using PR to sell the truth, as if it is somehow beneath them. The world views us as a strong majority and our leadership as powerful. In actuality, we are a drop in the ocean, more often than not cast ashore far from home on our journey through human history. Beyond that, we are a nation of many faces, colors and creeds, and though traditionally governed by a small Ashkenazi clique, most Israeli Jews are refugees who fled violence and oppression at the hands of the very same people now calling us out on our "privilege." I understand that admitting victimhood is uncomfortable, but exploiting victimhood is a very different thing from simply conveying the truth in a manner that allows the largest number of people to understand. I was genuinely moved by Obama's speech because I know that story, and I root for the underdog, as do most thinking and feeling human beings. The world should root for us, even for the "scary extreme Zionists" in Theroux's movie and Hagai El-Ad's speech, because we are a minority not only in the world but even in their neighborhoods. A people once enslaved, now yearning to be free, in a place of their own, a place of safety. No matter how proud we are of our present, we should neither be scared nor ashamed of our past, as it explains how we got here not just to ourselves but also to an outside world that is poised to sit in judgment. We are the descendants of kings and slaves, of refugees and royalty, and all these stories need to go into our narrative in order to right historical wrongs and fight current inaccuracies. We needn't check our privilege, but should explain our victimhood, and demand that those opposing us treat us no differently than they treat others. Annika Hernroth-Rothstein is a political adviser and writer on the Middle East, religious affairs and global anti-Semitism. Follow her on Twitter @truthandfiction.
Minority report
מערכת ישראל היום
מערכת "ישראל היום“ מפיקה ומעדכנת תכנים חדשותיים, מבזקים ופרשנויות לאורך כל שעות היממה. התוכן נערך בקפדנות, נבדק עובדתית ומוגש לציבור מתוך האמונה שהקוראים ראויים לעיתונות טובה יותר - אמינה, אובייקטיבית ועניינית.
