By: Aaron Raimi, UC Santa Barbara, Hasbara Fellow
According to Merriam-Webster dictionary, a moment is defined as “a minute portion or point in time”. In my view, a moment is an experience that transcends time and explanation and etches itself into your brain as a vivid indication of one’s existence. And my journey on Hasbara was filled with an unquantifiable amount of those moments.
Since starting my Winter quarter at UCSB, friends have asked me what I did over winter break. I could simply respond that I went to Israel with an organization called Hasbara and ask them what they did over their break. Belaying the fact that it takes me a couple seconds to respond in the first place because my mind, spirit, and soul are still in Israel with my Hasbara family. I forget that I’m back in the states, and I can’t give a simple answer to my friends’ very simple question because my experience in Israel isn’t worthy of a simple response.
My time in Israel on Hasbara belies explanation: It was emotional, exhausting, fun, transformative, eye-opening, surreal, and very intense. The friends I made will be friends that I have for the rest of my life. They’re not just my friends, they’re my family. There were moments that will stick with me for the rest of my life. From traveling to the second holiest site in Judaism, the Tomb of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs in Hebron on a bullet-proof bus with a tour guide strapped with an M16; to participating in an urban combat simulation in which the IDF has a split second to decide whether to defend themselves from incoming fire from a terrorist holding a small child or to not shoot back and risk their own lives and the lives of millions of Israelis; to standing about 150 meters away from the Gaza border where the living situation is becoming increasingly unbearable for Palestinians by the day under the rule of Hamas; to witnessing the site of Ari Fuld’s murder by a 17 year-old terrorist whom he heroically shot and killed in his last moments of life before succumbing to his stab wounds; to discovering one morning that my best friend on the trip was close friends with my cousin in Michigan – proving that Jewish geography is inescapable no matter how hard one tries.
While the moments I listed reinforced my identity as a proud and unapologetic Zionist, there were moments that challenged my beliefs and worldview to its core. One night, we spoke with an intelligent, well-spoken, and friendly Arab-Israeli woman. Barely older than me at 23 years old, she spoke of her experiences of growing up in Israel as a non-Jewish citizen. And while she acknowledged that she had full legal rights in Israel, the same as any Jewish Israeli, she lamented how she feels as though she is a second-class citizen due to the way she is treated in society. While I vehemently disagree with that sentiment as it is rooted in subjectivity, I was able to internalize her experiences and look at Israel from her perspective. After her talk, her and I were able to have a one-on-one, rational, and reasonable discussion on several issues. We disagreed strongly on some but were able to agree on others. But the most important part of our conversation was that we both were able to acknowledge the other person’s identity and reality, as well as maintaining empathy for the other. I walked away from that intense, but valuable moment with something that can be increasingly hard to have about the conflict – hope. Just as Israel was re-established in 1948 on the basis of hope for a Jewish nation in our indigenous homeland, I too was operating on the basis of hope for a Jewish nation that will one day be able to live in peace with its neighbors.
All these experiences and many more were surreal and powerful, but none compare to a life-changing moment I had while praying at the Western Wall in Jerusalem. Right before Shabbat started, I was praying at the third holiest site in Judaism; the remaining piece of the Second Temple in Jerusalem where every Jew, both secular and religious yearns to be, where the tragedy and triumph of the Jewish people is embedded in a massive stone wall, where millions of prayers are sent to G-d to be answered, I had a moment of serenity. I realized that 73 years after my Zaide survived the Holocaust with two and a half of those years spent in Auschwitz, and 70 years after he fought in the Haganah to liberate the Jewish people and return to our homeland, his grandson was praying as a free Jew without any fear of persecution. While I had a similar experience on Birthright, this was different. While I broke down and started to cry that time as well, this time I realized what it meant. This time I knew in my heart that I would make Aliyah one day; that one day I would live in the land that my ancestors were expelled from, the land that my Zaide fought for, and the land that is truly my home. Whether I make Aliyah when I’m 25, 45, or 85, it doesn’t matter, I know that one day I will. And while that realization was euphoric, I immediately was struck with an overwhelming amount of sadness that my Zaide couldn’t witness his grandson in person praying at the Western Wall and seeing the fruits of his struggles. But then another realization hit me: While my Zaide cannot be here in the physical realm to witness this moment, I know that he can see me from another realm and is smiling with a deep sense of joy.
My Hasbara experience was one that I cannot explain, but it is one that I felt and still do. And I will continue to live out my experience on my college campus and in my life. After the collection of moments that I had, the friends I made, the knowledge I gained, and wide scope of perspectives on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that I heard, I plan on advocating for Israel relentlessly on my campus. I will do everything in my power to ensure that a BDS resolution does not pass at my school, showcase Israel on my campus in a positive light, and be a voice of unity and truth for the Jewish state. Hasbara, my Zaide, and Israel in general have provided me with so many incredible moments – my only goal is to give back what they gave to me: inspiration, hope, passion, purpose, and unforgettable moments.
