Category Archives: Politics

Exisistential

I’m not sure what the right word is, but we’ll go with that for now.  Maybe an Identity Crisis is more descriptive?  But no, that sounds far too personal and narrow for this.  These thoughts are a bit jumbled and they might ome out a total mess, so please bare with me a moment, but these are thoughts I’ve been thinking for a while, and I feel that they need to be said.

 

I have an Israel Problem.

 

ok, got the confused look on your face? Good. Because this is only going to get weirder for you, I’m sure.  Most of you by now know that I’m Jewish.  And if you don’t know that, well then, now you do.  I was raised by my loving parents as a conservative Jew.  I went to Hebrew school and to services when we could make the drive. I had my Bat Mitzvah at thirteen and helped to teach at the Hebrew School until my brother had his Bar Mitzvah.   I went away to college, and then to live in Maine and while I was sort of involved with the Jewish communities up there (including taking some Hebrew classes), I was never quite ‘in the community’ so to speak.

 

I have grown apart from my Judaism and I have grown closer to it.  Now if that contradiction seems strange to you, bare with me, because being Jewish is always about the contradictions.  I feel a connection to my history, to my family, and to the traditions of my people.  I feel at home listening to Hebrew prayers and folk songs.  I know the history of the Jews, at least an overview, because of excellent teachers, my parents, and books.  I value education as much as I do mostly because of the Jewish influence on my upbringing.  I know the hardships, the toils, the life in slavery in Egypt, the pogroms in Eastern Europe and Russia, Life in New York after immigration, The Shoah, and the birth of Israel.  I know it, I feel it in my skin and my heart.  I say my prayers every morning, and every night.  I try to eat no pork, or allow any in my home if possible to avoid it.  I look at life through both the glasses of a thirty-something American woman, and as a Jewish Woman.  And this where my struggle begins.

 

Growing up, Israel was everything.  It was our homeland, it was our Holy Land, and it was the place that all Jews should go to at least once in their lives.  We should perform Aliyah, to go to Jerusalem, to pray at the Wailing Wall, to see Caesarea, and the Galilee.  To spend some time on a kibbutz, and learn about Israel as a Jew.  The Arabs tried to kill us, all the time.  Buses exploded, Pizza places were bombed, hundreds and hundreds killed.  And it was always the Arabs.  They were angry, they were jealous, they hated the Jews.  They were the next threat to us, as Hitler was the last.  There were no good Arabs, they all wanted Israel, and by extension us, dead.

 

This stays with you, as a child.  I remember that when Prime Minister Rabin was assassinated, The first thoughts were that it was an Arab, not another Jew.  Funny sidenote, first thoughts when 9/11 happened, was that it was homegrown terror, not Arabs.

 

I have grown up, a lot, since those days.  Since the assassination and the bombs in the marketplace.  I have grown up and I know that I probably missed my chance to go to Israel before the new millenium.  I should have gone right after high school, when the world was at a gentle, if not tense peace.  But now, I know that if I do make it to visit Israel, it will not be the country that I grew up revering.  I have learned too much for that to be true.

 

Israel is a young Jew’s dream.  A nation, a country, where you are not the minority.  Where you are not mocked for not celebrating Christmas or Easter.  Where are are not proselytized to every day because you do not believe in Jesus.  A country where everybody shares the same background, and the same guilt complexes, as you.  A country of our own, where year after year as you learn the history of your people, and how unwanted you are everywhere else, Israel wants you.  Israel is home.  It’s a beautiful thought, it’s comforting thought, that there is a place out there where you will belong.  And that feeling rings true today, for many and many people.  So long as you look at surface. But go beneath the surface, look into the politics, and human rights, and Israel loses her golden glow.

 

Not all Arabs want to kill the Jews.  Not all Muslims are insane jihadists.  Not all Palestinians rise up and throw rocks and sticks.  It is hard to come face to face with these thoughts.  The thoughts that Israel is not a shining beacon of all that is right and just in the world.  Israel is not a perfect place for us.  A safe place, a happy place.  Israel is not paradise.  I cannot, in my own mind, fight with myself over this any further.  I call myself a Liberal and a progressive. I feel that human rights are human rights, no matter where you are in the world.  World Peace is possible, but difficult.  I am a Jewish woman, and I believe that Israel has the right to exist.

 

But, I believe that Palestine has a right exist as well.

 

A two-state solution, I believe that they are calling it.  Israel and Palestine, possibly sharing Jerusalem, and other parts of the land.  Is it ideal?  No.  But then, neither is an entire people without a voice in any official politics.  And entire people with nobody official to stand up for them. With no official means to redress their problems, their issues, or their troubles.  An entire people who are essentially in exile.  Children who grow up not knowing the difference between having a home, and being a refugee.  How can we, as the Children of Exile ourselves, how can we legitimately look at this plight, and not see our past?  Nobody wants the Palestinians, and nobody wanted the Jews.

 

Apartheid ended in South Africa many years ago.  But the same actions are happening now in Israel.  How can we, who have been so oppressed for all of our existence, how can we continue to be oppressors?  Now, some will answer me that it’s because we have to, or they’ll kill us all.  To that, I answer with an old saying “More flies with honey, thank vinegar”.  Or, as my parents would say, “Kill them with kindness”.  Which granted, didn’t work for all of the bullies in my life, but it did for a good portion.

 

So why now?  Why do I say something now?  Well, it’s politically motivated.  And I have no need to hide that fact.  The Republican candidates for the nomination to run for President are making Israel an issue.  They are banging on the pulpit that Israel is our one true friend in the Middle East.  That Israel should be protected at all costs, and with no questions.  These are the same politicians, the same ones, who will attack a person for not being Christian.  They will declare that the world is made for Christians, and nobody else.  That the wealth, happiness, and safety of the USA is because of Christians.  And that the nation of the United States of America is a Christian Nation.  But they will defend Israel, the homeland of the Jews.  Even if they won’t stick up for the Jews at home.

 

The Christian Right will belittle my faith, will mock my beliefs, and will disparage the good that my people have done for my country.  And then they will turn around and expect my support for them, because they stand by Israel.  The Christian Right will hold that this Country, The USA, was built on Christian beliefs, and Christian morality, and they will belittle anybody and everybody that does not go along with the Christian way of life.  Even fellow Christians are mocked.  And yet, in a country where religious freedom is key, and a religious holiday is a national holiday, I still had to fight every year for the right to have my Holy Days recognized.  And a party, a group of people, who see nothing wrong with forcing other people to pray to their God, and in their manner with no regard to my personal beliefs or freedoms, to then have those people come at me and say ‘You have to vote for me! I support Israel’, it’s insulting.

 

Positively insulting.

 

To sum up my first point:

 

I believe in the ideal of Israel.  A place for people to go and be free.  People who have not known freedom, people who have been repressed, beaten, abused, and attacked.  A place of Freedom and Life.  That is the Israel that I see, and the Israel that I believe in, and the Israel that I support and dream of.  That also happens to be the Israel that doesn’t exist, unless you’re a Jew.  And it should not be that way.  It should not be that way.  We are alright now.  We are free.  We are safe.  We have more say in our lives than any of our ancestors did.  It is time for us to pass along that blessing of safety, of homecoming, and of love to another group that needs and deserves it.  Israel, as she stands today is a Bully.  And as anybody who has seen anything in the last year or so, Bullying needs to stop.  I don’t have a solution, I wish that I did.  But I do know that while I love Israel, I love the idea and the ideal, I do know that I cannot fully support Israel, until something changes for the better, and for equality.

 

And to sum up my second point:

 

I am a modern Jewish woman.  I am educated, I am informed, and I am connected.  And I am insulted.  The Christian Right, to be frank I’ll just say the Republicans.  The Republican party in my home country thinks that by grabbing onto the old prejudices of the previous generation, and by stating that they will stand by Israel no matter what, they believe that they can shake up a portion of the Democratic base.  And this would not bother me so much, if I did not think that they could do it. But old Prejudices die hard, and the memories of the 6 day war, of the Yom Kippur War, they are still fresh in the minds of many jewish voters.  The Holocaust is strong, and the memory of Israel becoming a state is deep and lasting.  Old Prejudices die hard.  And the Republicans are good at finding prejudices, and abusing them to get their way.

 

I want to say that I feel the jewish electorate is smart enough to realize what is being done.  That they are smart enough to see that the Republicans don’t want Israel for the Jews, they don’t want Israel protected because they value the jews.  I want to say, and to believe, that my fellow Jews can see through this as a means of manipulation, but sadly I can’t.  Old prejudices die hard.  And it takes a lot of strength to look at what you were taught as a child, and realize that it’s not completely right.

 

The Republicans who want to force my potential children to say the “Our, Father” first thing in the morning.  The Republicans who want to punish anybody that does not accept jesus as their savior.  These are the men and women who are standing up for Israel.  These are the men and women who are defending another countries rights to oppress a people who are different than them.  I want to think, I am begging the world to prove me wrong, that my fellow Jews, my fellow American jews, will see through this manipulation, but I know in my heart and my gut, that they won’t.

 

And for me, it is a sad sad thought.

 

I await your comments, good and bad.

Maccabee

So, I was thinking the other day that I haven’t done a blog post about Judaism in a while.  And this seemed a bit of a shame to me.  I should have at least tried to cover Rosh Hashannah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot.  And Simchas Torah.  But I just didn’t get around to writing those articles up.  But now, it’s December!  And that means Hannukah!  And everybody at least knows about the existence of Hannukah, and a vague idea of the story.  But it’s always nice to share with those that don’t, nu?

 

So I started thinking about how to tell the Hannukah story on my blog.  How to write it up so that the idea and feeling of hannukah comes through the words and into my reader’s heart.  Which is a difficult thing to achieve, I know.  But in thinking about Hannukah and the Maccabees, A strange correlation came over me. Please, indulge me and hear me out, because I am sure that you will not believe me if I tell you what I think right out, and I’m sure that I will get dismissed almost completely by the end.  And so I give you a Hannukah Story: Occupy Jerusalem.

 

 

The Greeks were in power.  They ruled everything that the eye could see and far beyond.  They had come to Jerusalem years ago, but in peace.  Alexander himself had entered the city, so fascinated was he with the Jews.  We were allowed to worship our G-d and keep our Traditions and Law, so long as we also obeyed the Laws of Greece on top of it.  We were not forced under Alexander to pay heed to the Pantheon, we were not completely ostracized, although we were also not necessarily welcome.  But it was, for the most part, a peaceful life of coexistence.  But then, Alexander died.  Things remained roughly the same for us for a few years, but restrictions became tighter and our freedoms grew less.

 

Finally, one day, it seemed to all have happened at once, we were no longer allowed to teach our children the language of our Fathers and Mothers.  We were told that they needed to be taught Greek and only Greek.  We were no longer allowed free worship of our G-d, but had to hide our devotions to him.  These were not the same enlightened Greeks that had been in charge of our land before, these were brutish Greeks, and the world was their toy and all would bow to them.  They controlled everything that they saw, and they did so with an Iron Fist, and with money.  Local lawmakers bowed to them, did their bidding, obeyed their will for fear of what retribution was possible if they did not.  We were kept from our Temple, and eventually we were kept from our Homes.   We were evicted from the homes that we had lived in for centuries and moved into new areas, smaller, poorer, and unable to sustain us and our families. 

 

We looked around and saw that this was bad.  It was a bad place and a bad situation, but we were not warriors.  We were scholars, students, families, farmers.  We worked for our living and struggled daily to ensure that there was food on the tables.  We cared for our own, our children and our old, Our brothers and cousins.  Yes, life was harder now, but it was always hard for us, The Chosen People.  But we had made it through tougher times before, we can make it through this again.  We had made it out of Egypt, after all.  We just needed to bide our time and G-d would make things right. 

 

This did not sit well with the younger men.  They were anxious, angry, and caught.  The Temple was being defiled, used for unholy worship of Idols of Gold.  They were watching their parents waste away, and their younger siblings and for some their children as well forced into poverty.  They were watching everything that they had been told to work for in life, being taken away.  And they felt powerless.  They had done what the Greeks had wanted, they had obeyed the Laws, they had been good subjects, and now this is how they were repaid?  With their lives being wasted, and their families put into peril?  And while we tried to tell them to settle down, that this is obviously how the world was meant to be for us, the young men could not let this pass.

 

They began to slip away from our new smaller settlement, from the protections of home and family.  They were going to make a point, they said.  They were going to make their voices heard.  They were citizens of Greece, as well as Jews, and they had rights.  Sadly, we watched them go.  They were our children, our nephews, and we could not stop them.  We were trying to keep the rest of our family together, to feed and teach our children, we could not stop those who wanted to make a difference, we needed to focus on the youngest and the eldest.

 

And so the young men went out among the hills around Jerusalem.  They hid in caves and pitched their tents.  They were small in number but then grew, and grew, and grew as more found out about their ideas.  And they stopped being just young men.  Older men joined, and women too.  They were all of us together, the same as always.  They fought back against the Greeks.  Sadly, it was physical fighting, and not just words of war and protest.  But the Greeks had given us no choice.  We had tried to voice our grievances before, but to no avail.  We were told that this is just the way it was, and to be happy.  But who can be happy when you have no food to eat and no roof over your head, and you cannot be that which you have always been? 

 

So the young men and women of Israel fought.  And while we knew in our hearts that the war, the battles, the attacks were going to be for nothing, we watched on as our youth defended us, protected us.  They battles went on, here and there throughout the hills, throughout the land.  One clash here and another there, our youth recalling the days of old when we first came to this land, Jewish Warriors strong and bold.  But that was a time when G-d was on our side, and this is a time, this time, we are not quite so blessed.  Or so we thought. 

 

But slowly, slowly the times changed, the tides shifted, and the Youth, the Maccabees as they had called themselves, they began to win. They gained ground, little by little by little.  They moved forward, they pressed their rights, their agenda, their beliefs, and they fought for what they knew to be right.  And they won.  They won.  Through their determination, their drive, their loyalty to one another and to their ideals, they won us back our homes.  They won us back our cities, and our Temple.   By working together, towards one common goal, the Maccabees proved that even the smallest people can make a big change in the world.

 

Yes, yes, I know.  It’s not perfect.  And it’s not the complete story of Hannukah either.  The story of Hannukah, and why it is 8 days and nights comes later, after the Jews have returned to Jerusalem.  They clean out the Temple of the idols of the Greeks, they clean and purify the temple, and they go to light the Menorah, to welcome G-d back into His home.  But they did not have enough oil.  They only had enough oil for one night, and that was not enough.  They sent a runner to the nearest town, but that was days away, and they needed to rededicate the Temple.  So, with a heavy heart that this could not be done completely properly, the Priests of the Temple rededicated the Holy Ground and relit the Menorah on the 25th day of Kislev.  They knew that they would not have enough oil, and that they would need to redo the ceremony again, but it was Shabbat, and the Temple was theirs.  And then, the Miracle happened.  The oil, which should not have burned for even one full day, burned for eight days and nights, until the runner returned with a new supply of oil.

 

It’s a fanciful story, and one mostly told to children, to explain why Hannukah is eight days, and to show the Blessings of our G-d, and the miracles that He can perform.  But there is a deeper message, that I’ve only just started to work out for myself.  Once again, the Jewish people were in trouble, and being persecuted.  And once again, it is the Jewish People who got themselves out of the mess.  G-d brought down the plagues on Egypt, but only after Moses started the process of freedom.  Esther saved her entire people from the wicked man Haman in Babylon, and the name of G-d is not even mentioned in her story.  So while we are Children and the Chosen of G-d, most of our greatest stories, come from ourselves.

 

So what is another over-reaching moral?  A group of determined people, no matter how small and no matter the daunting size of the task before them, a group of determined people can do anything.  Now, some of you might be reading this and asking if I’m talking about Occupy Wall Street.  Yes, yes I am.  I am not advocating that they take up arms like the Maccabee, I do not feel that they need to.  They have already made a difference.  A change.  The physical Occupations might be coming to an end, but the movement, the sentiment is not over.

 

A small but determined group of people can do anything.  And even the smallest thing, the smallest changes in life, are Miracles.

 

Happy Hannukah.

Two Cents

This is by no means going to be necessarily coherent at the moment, ti’s a bunch of thoughts strung together in response to the world dancing tonight.  I might be back tomorrow with clearer thoughts, but I doubt it.

I don’t understand how it has to be so binary.

the way I see it, and yes this is a personal opinion, is that celebrating a death is really not necessarily a good thing.  For any reason.  However.  For my part I am not celebrating necessarily his death, but rather the fact that his death brings about the end of one stresser in life.

People in NYC, the USA, and all over the world have been living day to day to day with the ramifications of thise particular man’s existence, his beliefs, and his practices for over ten years.  yes, Over ten years.  Since 9/11 those feelings have gotten worse.  It got more than personal for a lot of people.  Especially people in the military and in the cities and areas affected directly by the attacks.

it has been a constant nagging thing in the back of the American (and global) subconscious, Osama is still out there.  After a while you don’t have to say it anymore, but it’s still there.  He’s still there. Somewhere.  Out there.  And he managed to pull off 9/11 and we had the warnings and we knew that something big was coming and he still was able to make it happen and we haven’t found him yet.  It could be happening again.

As a result the US Military and militaries from our Allies around the world have been engaged in war for almost ten years. Ten Years.  Men and women from every nation have been injured, have given their lives and nothing can change that.  Nothing can bring them back or fix them completely.  And it is mostly because of things that this man started.

The entire country of the US and in fact the world has been under a building pressure of steam because Osama Bin Laden was still alive.  And we just started to ignore it, it was just a truth of the world he was alive and even if he wasn’t there was no way we would ever know if he had died, he could almost always be out there.  And we would never know.

And then tonight happened.  And almost instantly, almost in a complete rushing of relief from being held under so much strain, like a pressure cooker exploding or the tectonic plates shifting, the pressure was released, the truth was known.  The man was dead.  This man that caused death, destruction, fear, and war around the world, this catalyst for this new life that we are all of us leading, he was killed.

And the relief of that stress, the release of that pressure upon our bodies and minds has led to an almost euphoric, orgasmic, natural reaction that can only be classified as organic.  There was no real way for this to have happened, the reactions were going to be this outpouring no matter what.

That being said, death is death and I hold no real joy in there being death.  But I will not shed tears for this man being dead.  I will not resist the urge to raise a glass to the sky and toast the heroes of the world, living and dead, and to drink some tea (i don’t do alcohol) in their honor.

Reality is for the morning light, reality will come and we will see that the world will continue as it has continued for the last ten years.  But there is a bit of silver around those clouds, a bit less anxiety and fear and stress.  We’ll lose the euphoria, we’ll get rid of the gloating and get back to our lives.  But for one night, the geopolitics will not matter to anybody.  That is for the morning.

And in closing I say this, God Bless the Men and Women of the US Military and Special Forces.  God Bless the men and Women of the international militaries.  While your sacrifices may not get the coverage that they deserve and your losses may appear to not be taken into account, they are and those of us who are not brave enough or able to join up and fight for our freedoms, and the freedoms of the world, thank each and every one of you for being able to do so.  May God Bless you, keep you, and bring you home safe to wherever your homes might be.

W&K

Know where I’m going to be this Friday night?  I bet you can’t guess.  That’s right. I’m going to be glued to the computer monitor watching along with thousands of others as William Windsor gets married to Kate Middleton.

Why?

Well, to be honest, why the hell not?

I have friends all around the world, most of them don’t get the interest, some do.  I am currently living in a former British Colony and most people down here could give a flying fig less.  They don’t seem to understand the American obsession with the Royal family.

To be honest, I don’t understand it fully either.  I know that the royal family is a fascination for me, and has been.  Although I tend to enjoy more of the renaissance time period than modern, but that’s the same for just about everything English.

Americans are celebrity obsessed, that’s for certain.  Don’t believe me, take a good look at how many gossip magazines are at the checkout counter next time you go grocery shopping.  Now, take a moment to realize that there are none like that down here.  At least not that I’ve seen readily available.  Of course, i don’t go looking.

I am not usually celebrity obsessed.  I don’t know who the Kardashians are or why I should care.  I have no idea how many men Brittney Spears has been married to, or divorced from.  And I can honestly say that I have no idea what Lady GaGa wore to what event.  Or could I care.

But there is something about the Royal family that catches my attention.  Something that sets the imagination on fire.  Yeah, they’re the descendants of Tyrants and crazy people, and yes they’re all interrelated going most of the way back to William the Conqueror, but that’s not the point.  The point is that every little girl wants to be a princess.  And the royals give, and have given over generations, the chance to pretend.

There is something innately romantic in every little girl, Disney first starts to stir it up with Cinderella and the other Princesses in their movies, and then the little girls grow up, and there’s real princesses.  History classes talk about kings and queens and princesses and things, storybooks give details about this and that and this.  It’s enough to set the imagination wild.

Most Americans are never going to be rich.  Most are never going to be Princesses or royalty of any kind.  But that doesn’t stop the dreams.  The hopes.  The wishes on far away stars.

Grace Kelly was a girl from Philadelphia, she started acting, was a big movie star and she could dance with the angels.  And then, she became a Princess.  The perfect story for every little girl growing up in the USA.  Or at least in the Philadelphia area.  You too could maybe meet your prince and he will make you a princess.

Maybe it’s inevitable that I feel this way.  My name is Sarah, which is Hebrew for “Princess”.  I have always been treated like a princess by my parents, spoiled rotten and well behaved. I knew my manners and my education was stellar.  I was 5 days old when Diana and Charles got married, my mom watching the wedding from her hospital bed.  Maybe that had something to do with it.

I grew up fascinated with the English Royal family, from 1066 on down.  There were points where I could recite the entire lineage from the War of the Roses on down to modern times.  I can’t do that as much now.  Henry VIII is as fascinating to me today as he was when i was in 10th grade history.  Elizabeth I is just as imposing as she was back then.

And the royal wedding is going to be just as much fun as I can imagine.  There is an aspect of romance to being able to have everything you can imagine and more for your wedding.  That dress? yes please.  Those flowers, i’ll take a dozen.  Any thing you can imagine and create and come up with?  Yes.

It’s a romance thing, it’s wanting what you can’t have.  To be swept away by white stallions and a prince who will give you everything you can imagine.

I’m a happy woman.  I am in a relationship with a man who loves, respects, and cherishes me.  he spoils me and treats me as close to a princess as I’ve been treated since I was a little girl playing with my cabbage patch dolls that my Daddy got me and going to stage shows with no discernible plot but featuring everything from saturday morning cartoons that I loved.

Do I want a wedding with the glitz and the glamour, with the drama and the blank check?  of course I do.  Every little girl somewhere deep inside wants that.  That one day where everything is perfect, where you’re the center of attention and nothing but you and your loved one matters.  Am I going to get the dream wedding?  Probably not.  There won’t be a carriage ride through town.  There probably wont be a giant room with white curtains and lilies and roses and ivy cascading around us.    But at this point in my life, I can honestly say that grabbing a few friends, grabbing a judge, and getting married in the middle of the day on some summer day would be just as magical and romantic to me.

But enough about me.  We’re talking about the obsession over the British Royals and the wedding this weekend and how absolutely insane it is for Americans to be so obsessed and fascinated with it.  And I think that’s it.  It’s a fascination.

The closest we have is our Celebrities in the States and their weddings are huge affairs with glamor and drama and the news covers them like the events of the century.  But it’s been 30 years since the last royal wedding, they happen so rarely, how can you not be excited?

On a side note, this is the perfect time for England to start giving a great Public Relations moment for next year’s Olympics.  The world is watching you, England, advertise now.  Bring in the excitement, the glamor, the thrill and the wow with this wedding and push it for the Olympics.

There will be hundreds and hundreds of tourists in town for the wedding, use this and the Olympics next year, and bring yourself back up to the top.  You have the stage this weekend, Don’t screw this up!

Also, congrats to Kate & William!! A wish of Good Luck and Health to you and your future together.  Mazel Tov!

History

There are few times when a person can point at something specific around them and say for absolute certain that they are watching History happen.  It happened here in the states when Barack Obama was elected.  It happened a few dozen other times in my life, the Mars Rover, the Challenger exploding, September 11, 2001, Hurricane Katrina.

 

These are all events that can be pointed at and say without a doubt that the world would be changed from them, or at least the country would be changed.  This last week or so, a little bit more than that now, something has been happening in the world that can easily be pointed to by everybody, not just Americans, and can be said “This is History”.

 

Tunisia, Sudan, Egypt.  These are not small nations. They are not small populations and they are not small deals.  Sudan is the largest country in Africa, but it was man made, carved out of the desert sands by the British after the second world war.

 

Just last month, the Sudanese voted to become two separate nations.  The more Islamic Sudan to the North, the Christian Sudan in the South.  This may seem like not so much a big deal on the outside, but once you get past the surface, you will see something amazing.  Over 98% of the population of South Sudan voted.  Ninety-eight percent.  And of that staggering amount of voters, 90% voted for independence from the North, a chance to form their own nation.  And the Northern Sudanese government agreed to the results!  So come July of this year, the cartographers will need to get out their pens and pencils and CAD programs, because there will be two nations now, where one has stood for over 50 years.

 

98%.  We can barely get 60% of our population out to vote on major issues at any given time, here in the states.  Think about that.  98% of the population (voting age and eligible to vote as a citizen) came out to vote.  What would happen in America if 98% of anybody did anything?

 

Tunisia had some riots, they overthrew the dictator and a new leader has been put in place.  It all happened so quickly that nobody really knew how to comment or what to comment or even really that it was happening until it was over.

 

Taking their cue from South Sudan and from Tunisia, the Egyptian People decided over a week ago that enough was enough, and they took to the streets.  Protests have been ongoing, intense, and dramatic, with the world of politically interested twentysomethings glued to our computer and televisions, burning for more information.

 

Protests became demonstrations and America became caught in the middle.  But that’s a different topic and not one that I am quite ready to speak on just yet.

 

Last Friday, a huge protest was planned to take place in Cairo’s Tahrir Square, after Friday prayers.  The government decided that it would be a good time to crack down, to remove the leaders of the opposition and to cause some intimidation.  They were met with resistance.

 

While the Muslim members of the protests were at prayer within their Mosques, the outsides were guarded by a human chain, a human barricade of Coptic Christians, who put themselves in between the praying Muslims and the Police of the Government.

 

They used their bodies as shields to protect people of another faith.

 

And they did so again this week, while Prayers were being said in Tahrir Square, the Christian protesters put themselves in harms way so that their Muslim compatriots could pray in peace and in safety.

 

Coptic Christians Protect Praying Muslims in Tahrir Square, Cairo

 

There are moments in time that you can point to and say, “The world changed at this time”.  And I truthfully, honestly believe that this is one of those times.  Nobody knows for certain what the outcome will be in Egypt.  Nobody knows for certain how things will go for Tunisia and for Southern Sudan.

 

But I, for one, do know that I will never forget the sight, the image burned in my mind and in my heart, of Christians protecting Muslims at prayer.  Of a people who for so long in my mind have simply been ‘Egyptians’ and/or ‘Arabs’ becoming something not quite monolithic and more nuanced.

 

I have plenty of thoughts on the political and religious ramifications and difficulties that this has brought up for me and my mind.  But they are not organized, they are not quite ready for writing down just yet, as I am still uncertain exactly how or what to say.

 

History has been made these last two weeks.  And what will happen next, nobody really knows for certain.  But it will be something rather fascinating to watch.

 

 

 

 

 

image was found via twitter and passed around many places on the internet.  I do not know the original photographer, but I can say ‘thank you’, you have helped make what could have been a dark dark story, that much lighter for many of us in the world.