Among the calls I made that morning, I also reached out to friends from the ultra-Orthodox leadership. The pain was evident throughout these conversations. I repeatedly asked to help, as someone who lives in Nazareth, in the vicinity. And this is actually the point of light on this painful day. I was not the only Arab, Palestinian, citizen of Israel to do so. There were hundreds of Arabs who acted as I did, and did even more.
Hundreds of Arabs, including mayors of Tamra, Zarzir, Beit Jann and others, got up on the morning of that Friday and asked themselves how they could help. None of these Arabs had any doubts as to whether to help. They saw it as a moral, civic duty of solidarity. It mattered to none of them whether the disaster affected Arabs or Jews, seculars or ultra-Orthodox. You all saw the result – all across the Galilee restaurants opened refreshment points, citizens opened their homes for hospitality, and neighbors offered rides, shelter and support.
The Arabs understand the pain of the ultra-Orthodox. They experience the same contempt from the police and the minister of public security. They see the contempt that the state leadership has for victims of the authorities, victims of violence and police neglect. Their help, ours, arose from feelings of solidarity, and not purely of generosity. It is time to hold onto this point of light, together, in the face of this contempt, in the face of this dysfunctional government, Arabs and Jews alike.
CALL IT SIMPLY civic solidarity. Solidarity that sometimes seems obvious and sometimes a minor miracle. In an age of incendiary, racist and fascist discourse, it is worth mentioning this point, the point of light that says true partnership is not brought about simply by sharing a bowl of hummus. Rather, it is in true civic solidarity that exists in spite of ideology and politics. Partnership rooted in solidarity recognizes the pain of the other, helps the other, and accepts their whole – without erasing the parts that are less comfortable and easy to process.
Solidarity is the key to true partnership. One that, first and foremost, understands that today’s Israeli politics is made up of islands of identities. This is how politics works in Israel. There are Arab parties and ultra-Orthodox parties and Russian parties and Ashkenazi parties. Each of them is entitled to an appropriate representation, and it is important that they each receive it.
As someone who comes from the world of identity politics, I acknowledge both its pros and its cons. On the one hand, identity politics allows us to acknowledge our suffering, as well as to recognize and openly discuss the painful experiences of others. On the other hand, nowadays it often serves as an excuse for further injustice, an excuse to hold repeated dismal elections, and recently even an excuse to avoid launching a crucial state commission of inquiry that would allow us to learn from the mistakes made and avoid such disasters in the future.
It is time for us to move forward and build another floor, one built above our differences and identities. Our individual identities must remain, but on their own they will fail to produce a stable society. On this new floor that we’ll build, we will create a politics that will connect the shared civic values and ideologies and fill them with new ideas and ideals; those that can answer the question “What does it mean to be an Israeli citizen?” beyond being Arabs or Jews, secular or ultra-Orthodox. And perhaps the best definition we are looking for is partnership. It’s time to stop living in fear of living together.
The writer is a member of Knesset from Meretz. She holds an MBA from The College of Management Academic Studies, an MA in literature, from the University of Haifa and a BA in psychology from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.