malaysia immigration

Collective Punishment for Collective Punishment?

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Collective Punishment for Collective Punishment?

Shalzed Investigates Why Malaysia Won’t Admit Israelis

              I was on the phone with my brother in Israel when Shalzed rang the doorbell. I told Yoni that I had to run as I buzzed Shalzed up. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find another way to get Benny home,” I told Yoni, checking one more travel website on my computer as Shalzed came in.

              “What’s the matter?” Shalzed asked when I hung up.

              “My brother’s son Benny is backpacking through Vietnam. His ticket home stops in Malaysia, and he just realized that Malaysia doesn’t let Israeli citizens enter the country, even to change planes.”

              Shalzed frowned. “How can that be? Why would one country not allow citizens of another country to enter?” The floor seemed to shift slightly.

              I shrugged. “It’s because they refuse to recognize Israel. Benny is also a U.S. citizen, but even if you don’t use your Israeli passport, if they find out you have one they can deport you right away.”

              “Isn’t that discrimination?” Shalzed asked. “How can Malaysia restrict entry to all Israeli citizens?”

              The walls started to move farther apart, then snapped back together. I had the by now familiar nauseous feeling as I entered the black tunnel. Then I was standing in the sun in front of a palace like building with a large, green dome. I looked around. Behind me was an enormous square, and across the square was what seemed to be a mosque, this time with a pink dome. People were all around, some going quickly about their business, but many seemed like tourists as well. Shalzed was rushing forward towards a group of men that were exiting the palace. I hurried to keep up.

“Prime Minister Ibrahim,” Shalzed called. A man wearing a plain white shirt and no tie turned, along with a few other men who seemed like guards. “Can you explain why you won’t allow Israeli citizens to enter Malaysia?”

To my surprise, Ibrahim gave Shalzed a warm smile, although his smile faded a bit as he noticed Shalzed’s unusual appearance. Maybe in Malaysia politicians were more open to being interrupted. “It is very simple,” he said. “We do not accept the existence of Israel, so we do not recognize passports from Israel for entry.”

“But how can you punish people who happen to have been born in Israel just because you disagree with their government?” Shalzed asked.

A woman carrying a clay bowl filled with grapes and berries stepped past us and approached the Prime Minister. She bowed her head and extended the bowl to him. He smiled and took a few grapes, saying something in a language I couldn’t identify, let alone understand. The guards looked at the woman warily, but did not interfere.

“It’s called antisemitism if you don’t let Jews into your country,” I added as the woman stepped away.

Ibrahim looked aghast. “Jews are most welcome,” he said. “We deny entry only to Israelis. No Israeli has a right to vacation in Malaysia. The United States does the same thing regarding many African countries too.”

Shalzed frowned, like that confused him or maybe he wasn’t sure whether or not it was true. I didn’t agree with Trump’s rules about immigration, but they were still nothing like this. “And people criticize the U.S. for it,” I said. “But at least it’s supposedly because Trump thinks they will overstay their visas and problems with security screenings, not because of their government.”

“So let me get this straight,” Shalzed interjected. “You are protesting Israel’s collective punishment of Palestinians by collective punishment against Israelis?”

One of Ibrahim’s guards stepped closer. “The Prime minister has an appointment. . .” he began.

“You can hardly compare denying entrance to a country with checkpoints, home demolitions, and confiscation of land,” Ibrahim said as the guard nudged him along.

“I have a question,” I said. Ibrahim paused and turned towards me. “What if an Arab citizen of Israel wanted to come to Malaysia, what would you say then?” Ibrahim wrinkled his forehead. “What if it was to visit an ailing relative? Would you still deny them entry then?”

“There could maybe be a humanitarian exception,” Ibrahim mumbled as his guards led him away. The ground seemed to tilt.

“Would there be humanitarian exceptions for Jewish Israelis too?” Shalzed called after the Prime Minister, who ignored Shalzed’s question and kept going on his way. The green dome seemed to get closer, then farther, and then everything was black. A moment later I was back in my apartment. I reached out and grabbed the back of a kitchen chair because it felt like everything was still swaying.

Shalzed was next to me. The transition didn’t seem to phase him, and he was watching me, looking impatient for me to get my bearings. “I didn’t realize your Earth countries prevented humans from other countries from entering at all,” he said as I got steady.

“They do it for lots of reasons,” I said.

“But should sending political messages be one?”

 

For background on Malaysia’s policy, see the Algemeiner here. 

shalzed and simon after tisha ba'av

Shalzed Asked Why I Was Fasting      

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Shalzed Asked Why I Was Fasting

Shalzed passed by while I was waiting for the bus to come home from shul after the Tisha Ba’av service. “You look tired,” he said.

I smiled. “It’s just because I’m fasting. That’s why I’m taking the bus- I don’t want to walk in the sun.”

“Fasting? Why?”

“It’s called Tisha Ba’av,” I told him. “It commemorates the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem thousands of years ago.”

The light changed to green and a rush of cars came by. Some of the drivers slowed down, probably looking at Shalzed. “So why is it still important?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It’s part of Jewish history. And we still pray for the Temple to be rebuilt.”

“Is that really possible?” he asked. “And do you really want sacrifices to come back?” Shalzed gave me a funny look, like he was reconsidering whether he really wanted me to be the one helping him around Earth.

“We also remember the death and suffering when the temples were destroyed. Along with other suffering throughout Jewish history. The crusades, the holocaust, and now Oct. 7th. . .” A young woman carrying a water bottle covered with NPR and pride stickers glared at me as she passed, then went to lean on the other edge of the bus shelter.

“What’s the purpose of remembering?” Shalzed asked.

I shrugged. “Isn’t it important?” The bus was now at the light, and instinctively I took my fare change out of my back pocket. “If we forget the past, aren’t we doomed to repeat it?” I asked.

“So the lesson is that Jewish people need to keep themselves safe, to make sure all this destruction doesn’t happen again?”

“I think that’s part of it,” I told him. The light changed and the bus began making its way across the intersection. The woman went to the curb, staying on her side of the bus shelter with her back towards me.

“Is the fast also supposed to remind you to help prevent such suffering for others?” Shalzed asked.

The bus pulled over, and I shuffled behind the woman. I couldn’t think of anything in the Tisha Ba’av prayers about that. “Let me call you later,” I told Shalzed. “The fast is over tonight.” I got on the bus, and the woman put her water bottle on the seat next to her as I passed down the aisle. I found a seat at the back, and watched through the window as Shalzed walked away. If he had come to the Tisha Ba’av service, I wondered what he’d think?

shalzed trusting ai on the dangers of ai

Trusting AI On the Dangers of AI

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Trusting AI On the Dangers of AI

Shalzed Asks Simon About a New UN Report

I was in the living room watching the World Cup game between the U.S.A. and Bosnia when Shalzed came over. I thought he would ask again why so many humans were running after the same ball, but instead he wanted to tell me about a new United Nations report on artificial intelligence. “AI can cause so much harm,” he said.

“Well I suppose. There are already cases of people falling in love with it,” I told him.

“Much more than that. Haven’t you read the report?” I shook my head. I wondered if Shalzed just assumed that most people read all UN documents cover to cover. “So look now,” he told me.

I glanced at the television. One of the U.S. defenders had just tapped the ball back to the goalie, who was gazing downfield. I took out my phone and asked ChatGPT for a summary of what the UN wrote.

“I hadn’t realized that 75% of computing power is in the United States,” I said when I finished.

“Inequality is one problem,” Shalzed said. “Some countries have more access, and it works better in common languages like English.”

“And sometimes it makes stuff up. But by now everyone knows that,” I added.

“Even so, humans still trust it,” Shalzed said. “And now the committee says there are examples of AI behaving deceptively on purpose.”

Without thinking, I glanced at the ChatGPT app open on my phone. Was that true? I knew about hallucinations, but would AI purposefully lie? “It could also be used to create fraud schemes and stuff like that,” I added. That was serious, but seemed less scary than AI going rogue all on its own.

“What about the conclusion?” Shalzed asked me.

I glanced back at the TV. Now the Bosnian goalie was bouncing the ball. The only conclusion in the summary I read was that AI could potentially be dangerous. “What about it?” I asked.

“The only thing this committee is planning to do is keep writing more reports!” he exclaimed, blinking his eyes three times.

“Well, what did you want them to do?

“At least temporarily, stop making new AI.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “They can’t do that, they’re just the UN.”

“Then countries should.”

“But they can’t,” I said. The report made that clear. Since AI development was centered in just a few places, most countries had no control. And the few that did wouldn’t slow things down for fear of losing their competitive edge.

“So why do the technology companies still keep making even more powerful versions?” Shalzed asked.

“Their job is to make money,” I told him.

“And they can make money by creating something as dangerous as new, untested AI?”

“There’s nothing to stop them,” I replied. Now a U.S. player was kicking a long pass across the field to a teammate who could have a direct path to the goal. The crowd cheered.

“Why don’t humans have rules that every powerful new invention has to be thoroughly tested before anyone can release it?”

I shook my head again. “Because that’s just not the way it works,” I said as the U.S. player’s shot went well above the crossbar. The crowd groaned. I looked again at my phone. I wondered if ChatGPT might sometime try to fool me on purpose. When it just summarized for me the report on the dangers of AI, was there anything it decided to leave out?

simon in kitchen

Who Decides What’s True?

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Who Decides What’s True?

Shalzed Calls Simon When He Sees A Facebook Post Saying Israel Disguises Bombs as Toys

I was in my apartment scrolling through JDate when Shalzed called.

“I just saw that Israel is dropping bombs disguised as toys to kill children,” he said in an angry voice as soon as I answered.

I clicked my tongue. “Where did you see that?” I asked. “That can’t be true.”

“On Facebook.” He sent me a link to the post. It had a grainy picture of what seemed like a small soccer ball.

“What makes you think that’s a bomb?” I asked Shalzed. “Maybe it really is just a ball.”

“Well it says. . .” he began. “Hold on, I want to find out more.”

I switched back to JDate while I listened to the sound of Shalzed clicking on a computer. After a few minutes he said, “You’re right. Unexploded cluster munitions are round or oval-shaped, so it’s possible a child may pick one up thinking it’s a ball. But there is no evidence that Israel is intentionally trying to make them look like toys.”

“Of course not,” I told him.

“So why is someone allowed to post that on Facebook?” he asked. “Millions of people could come to believe something that’s not true.”

I sighed. “And who is going to decide what’s true and what’s not?”

“But this is obviously a lie, I don’t see what’s so hard.”

The profile of an out of shape woman in her late 30s appeared next on JDate. She wrote in her profile that she works out 5 times a week and is hoping to run in the Boston Marathon. Dating sites would benefit from truth checkers, too.

 

shalzed world cup

Shalzed Confused by Anti-Israel Demonstration at the World Cup

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Shalzed Confused by Anti-Israel Demonstration at World Cup

Shalzed wanted to learn more about Earth culture, so I invited him to join me in watching a World Cup game at “The Final Score,” a sports bar near my apartment. When we arrived they were showing Canada’s opening match.

A waiter handed us a menu, then asked if we wanted anything to drink right away. “I’ll have the big apple,” I told him. The waiter looked at Shalzed, who glanced at me. “Bring him one also,” I said.

Shalzed was immediately captivated by the game on the big screen, but then he seemed confused by the momentary excitement when a Canadian player took a shot on goal that went just above the crossbar. “They almost scored,” I told him.

“But it was quite clear from the ball’s velocity and launch angle, combined with Earth’s weak gravitation, that even the random motion of the atmosphere you call wind could not possibly have redirected it to pass into that structure,” he said.

“Sure,” I replied. I wondered if on his planet they had actual sports or more what we would call a math Olympics. The news came on the one tv in the corner that didn’t have sports, and that got Shalzed’s attention. It showed a picture of the FIFA ball in front of Toronto’s stadium covered with a sign that said, ‘Kick Israel out of FIFA.”

“Is Canada playing against Israel?” Shalzed asked. “I thought. . .”

“No,” I interrupted. “Israel isn’t even in the tournament. They just always protest against Israel, no matter what.”

“But why?” Shalzed asked. “They should protest against Canada, since it was recently accused of genocide by an international tribunal. Or they should protest the countries that do have teams in the tournament. Saudi Arabia murders and abuses migrants, discriminates against women. . .”

“They don’t care,” I interrupted. “They just target Israel.”

“But why would they single out one country? If the human rights movement violates its own principles, what good can it do?”

The waiter returned and placed our mugs on the table. Shalzed stared. “That’s not an apple,” he said.

I laughed. “It’s a cider,” I said. “Try it.”

Shalzed took a sip. “It tastes. . . unusual,” he said. “I don’t understand what it has to do with apples.

“It’s apple juice that’s fermented,” I said.

Shalzed sighed. “You humans are so confusing.”

Question: Is constant anti-Israel protest reasonable or productive? Or does an obsessive focus on Israel ruin the credibility of the human rights movement, turning what were supposed to be objective, global norms of behavior into a means of whitewashing personal bias and prejudice?

shalzed mexico city soccer

Mexico City? That Can’t be Right

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Shalzed outside the opening World Cup match in Mexico City

Mexico City? That Can't Be Right

Shalzed came to Simon’s apartment when the World Cup was on, and had some questions. . .

“Why are all those humans running after the same ball?” shalzed asked.

“It’s called soccer. It’s one of the most popular sports, and this is the championship,” I told him.

The TV shifted to a wide shot of the stadium, packed with people wearing the Mexican team’s green. “Where is this taking place?” Shalzed asked.

“Mexico City. It’s Mexico vs South Africa,” I said.

Shalzed’s blinked three times. “But that’s not possible,” he said. “Certainly an event like that in Mexico would be subject to boycott.”

I wrinkled my forehead. “Why?”

“Mexico was just accused of crimes against humanity. Over 100,000 people have gone missing, often due to gangs, and the government does nothing. Relatives are left to search for their lost family members on their own.”

I didn’t know much about that, so I shrugged. “Only a few of the games are in Mexico,” I said. “The United States is hosting the most.”

“The United States!” Shalzed exclaimed. “Where masked ICE agents pull people off the streets? That conducts extrajudicial killings of anyone the government claims could be a drug smuggler? How could other countries send their sports teams to participate in a competition there?”

The announcer raised his voice, drawing my gaze to the television. A Mexican player was laying on the ground, and the referee held up a yellow card. The crowd was screaming for red. “I think they decided to let the U.S. host a long time before Trump was president,” I told Shalzed.

“That doesn’t explain why the other countries don’t boycott now,” Shalzed replied.

“Some of the games are also in Canada,” I told him.

Shalzed blinked three times again. “An international tribunal just determined that Canada is guilty of ongoing genocide against its indigenous peoples!” he exclaimed. “How can this kicking a ball contest be held in a country guilty of the most serious of all crimes?”

I looked back at the screen. The player on the ground was slowly getting up. “I guess every country is guilty of something,” I said.

“Then why are only some boycotted, while others are not?” Shalzed asked.

I turned back to the TV, because I didn’t know what to say.

aliens website

An Urgent Call From Simon- Simon is alarmed to find a U.S. government website which he believes indicates that Shalzed has been arrested.

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aliens website

An Urgent Call from Simon

Simon is alarmed to find a U.S. government website which he believed indicated that Shalzed had been arrested

I was scrolling down Yahoo’s home page on my phone when I saw an article that said ‘Aliens Walk Among Us.’ My heart skipped a beat as I clicked on the link. Had Shalzed been discovered?

The website said in big green letters over a space background, “Aliens have been walking among us, living in our neighborhoods, and interacting with us in our daily lives. They live seemingly normal human existences. With one exception — they do not belong here.”

I immediately called Shalzed. I had to warn him. I also started to wonder- maybe he hadn’t come to Earth alone?

“I think you’ve been discovered,” I said as soon as he picked up.

“Discovered?” he asked.

I sent him the website link. He was quiet for a moment, then said with a laugh, “This is about humans in the United States, not me.”

I scrolled some more, and sure enough he was right. There was a list of locations where illegal immigrants had been arrested by ICE, along with crimes they were accused of. Then it said, ‘If you’ve witnessed an Alien abduction, do not be alarmed. The Alien is in good hands. We will take care of it… and return it safely to its place of origin.’

“It’s from your white house,” Shalzed said.

I couldn’t believe it. There was a picture of Donald Trump, and the URL started whitehouse.gov. “This is horrible,” I said. “It makes it seem like everyone in the United States illegally is some sort of invader or dangerous criminal.”

“Isn’t this website likely to cause discrimination, or even violence?” Shalzed asked.

“Absolutely.” Then I sighed. “At least it’s not about you.” I started to realize how much I would miss Shalzed if he left. Then I thought about the millions of people who fear that a loved one could be arrested at any moment, imprisoned, and deported penniless to a distant place where they know no one and may also face danger.

 

Click here to view the White House website on aliens. Consider this website in relation to Article 20 of the Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which states: Any advocacy of national, racial or religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility or violence shall be prohibited by law.

bukele in village

Shalzed Asks Why 500 People Are Being Tried At Once

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Shalzed Asks Why 500 People Are Being Tried At Once

El Salvador's President is widely condemned, but popular

To villagers, Bukele is a hero. They hand him food in the street, and say their children can finally play outside again.

To human rights groups, Bukele is a villain, making laws that deny accused criminals of their most basic rights.

Shalzed investigates.

Shalzed Asks Why 500 People Are Being Tried At Once

I was at the kitchen table grading homework from my Mishnah class when Shalzed called. “How can 500 people be put on trial all at once?” he demanded.

I had never heard of anything like that. “Are you sure?” I asked.

“I just read about it. El Salvador is holding a trial for 500 gang members all at once.”

The paper I was grading seemed to tilt back and forth, and the writing became blurry. “Maybe in El Salvador. They’ve been battling gangs there for a while.”

“But battling gangs doesn’t mean it’s okay to throw innocent people in jail,” Shalzed said.

My apartment stretched, and I felt myself moving away. I was in blackness for a moment, then standing with Shalzed on what seemed like the main street of a dusty village. A middle aged man with a black beard, black moustache, and wearing a black button up shirt was next to us, accompanied by several guards. An elderly woman who seemed to have come from a nearby house was handing him a plastic cup filled with cut pineapple.

“Muchos gracias, Presidente Bukele,” the woman said. She gestured to some children kicking a soccer ball down the street. “Only because of you. Before, no one could go out at night.” She pointed to a nearby grocery store, and I noticed that a water cistern on its roof was riddled with holes from bullets. Bukele looked at the pineapple, then glanced at one of the guards who obediently took it.

“Mass trials mean you are probably going to punish a lot of people who are innocent,” Shalzed said.

Bukele turned to us, and the guards took small steps in our direction. I got the feeling Bukele was out in the village to try to interact with the people, so they had been instructed not to act unless there was any sign of actual danger. “So what should we do, let all the gang members back onto the streets and go back to having shootouts each night?” he asked.

Shalzed waved his arm. “How about just giving each suspected gang member a fair trial. What’s so hard about that?”

“Are you from one of those stupid human rights groups?” Bukele asked. “The ones that come here now demanding rights for gang members but didn’t say a thing when they were terrorizing the country with guns and drugs?”

“No,” I interjected. “He just has some questions, he’s from far away.”

“El Presidente is our hero,” the woman said to Shalzed. She took a half step closer to Bukele, like she was trying to protect him.

“Of course gang members should be arrested,” Shalzed said. “But each one is still entitled to a fair trial.” I felt myself nodding.

Bukele waved his arm. “There are tens of thousands of them,” he said. “A trial for everyone would take decades.”

“So you need more judges,” I said. I mean, that seemed like common sense.

“Money is to build schools, to build playgrounds,” the woman said. “We don’t want El Presidente to spend our money on people who tried to destroy our country.”

“Not only that,” Bukele added. “It’s almost impossible to prove which gang member committed which crime. There’s never enough evidence. So we made it that if you’re a gang member, you’re responsible. That’s enough.”

“So some kid who just joined a gang because it seemed cool gets the same punishment as actual murderers?” I asked. To me that seemed more than a little outrageous.

“Everyone knew what the gangs were up to,” the woman said. “Whoever doesn’t want to be punished shouldn’t have joined.”

“Gangs used to use teenagers to do their dirty work because they knew that teens didn’t face much from the legal system,” Bukele said. “No more loopholes. Have you forgotten that a few years ago, in just one night, 62 innocent people were murdered?”

“But if you toss thousands of innocent people in prison, is that really any better?” Shalzed asked.

Another woman approached, carrying a piece of some sort of cake or pastry in a napkin. “Para usted, el presidente,” she said, handing it to Bukele.

Bukele dutifully took it from her, then turned to Shalzed. “People who never lived under gangs love lecturing us. Why don’t you ask some of these mothers what’s more important- the rights of accused gang members or the right of children to play freely in the street?”

Shalzed blinked three times, like he always does when he’s surprised. “But I thought the right to a fair trial can’t be violated under any circumstances.”

“And what about people’s right to go out at night without fear of being struck by bullets,” Bukele said. “For years no one could go out because of the gangs.”

As both of the women nodded, they seemed to move farther away. A man approached, cell phone in hand, apparently wanting a selfie with Bukele. And then I was in darkness, and back in my apartment, standing next to my kitchen table. I put a hand on the wall to steady myself as I felt my stomach lurch.

I took a glass of water, then sat down at the table. My students’ Mishnah papers were in front of me. According to Torah law, two witnesses are required to convict someone of a crime. I had asked the kids about a passage which said that a Jewish court had to quiz each witness about the exact time and place of a crime, and any discrepancy meant that the testimony was disqualified and the accused went free.

I had always wondered whether that actually work in the real world, or would people start violating the law left and right when they realized how easy it was to get away with it? Would the rabbis insist on upholding laws that let criminals go free even if their own children couldn’t go out of the house because of gangs and gunfights?

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Sources:

For coverage of Bukele’s mass trials from the Associated Press, click here.

For criticism of Bukele’s policies from Human Rights Watch, click here.

Shalzed test in progress

Can a State Fund What it Doesn’t Believe?

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Can a State Fund What it Doesn’t Believe?

Shalzed thought tests were about knowledge—until three women weren’t allowed to take one

After years of wrangling, the Israeli Supreme Court ordered the Chief Rabbinate to allow women to take its rabbinical exams. When three women recently came to become the first ever to take Israel’s rabbinic tests, they were sent to a separate building and made to wait for hours. Shalzed tries to understand why a test about knowledge isn’t only about knowledge.

Can a State Fund What it Doesn’t Believe?

              I was almost done grading my 8th graders’ homework when Shalzed called. “Why aren’t women being allowed to take tests?” he asked. “Doesn’t Israel believe in equal rights?”

              “What are you talking about?” I asked.

              “Three women are being denied the right to take rabbinical exams administered by the Chief Rabbinate.”

              “Well that’s different,” I told him. My kitchen table seemed to wobble. “According to Jewish tradition, only men can be rabbis.”

              “But I thought tests are just about knowledge,” Shalzed said. My kitchen seemed slanted, then farther away. There was darkness for a moment, and then I was standing next to Shalzed in a plain room set up with small tables and folding chairs. Three women, dressed in skirts, with their heads covered, were sitting together sharing a bag of chips. They looked anxiously at us.

              “So do you have the exams?” one of them asked.

              I looked around, feeling uncertain. “Of course not,” I said. “We don’t have anything at all.”

              “We’ve been waiting more than four hours,” she said.

              “There was already an appeal to the Supreme Court. The Rabbanut either has to give us the exam, or cancel the men’s exam as well,” the woman next to her added.

              “I don’t understand. . .” Shalzed began.

              This, I could explain. “In Israel, the Rabbanut controls marriage, divorce, kosher certificates, and stuff like that. And since they’re Orthodox, they won’t allow women to be rabbis.”

              “But we aren’t asking to be called rabbis,” the three women said together. They were so in unison that I almost laughed.

Shalzed looked perplexed. “Well, if you pass the rabbinic exams, why wouldn’t you be rabbis?”

“For women to become rabbis would be too much of a change,” one of them said.

              Shalzed blinked three times. “But if you agree that you’re not allowed to be rabbis, then why do you want to take the rabbinic exams?” he asked.

The woman who hadn’t spoken yet let out a loud sigh. “We want to be able to fill roles that halacha does allow,” she said.

              “There are other jobs we can do. Like kosher supervising. And the tests should finally put us on an equal pay scale with rabbis if we teach in religious school,” the first one added. “And the Rabbanut has to let us, since they are funded by the Israeli government.”

              Another woman, also modestly dressed, entered the room. “The tests are on their way,” she said. The three women clapped. “We just have to wait for the other proctors to arrive.”

              “So you want to pass the rabbinical exam in order to get jobs usually done by rabbis but not be called rabbis yourselves?” Shalzed asked again.

              “Just for now,” the proctor said before any of the three could respond.

              “Not true,” one of the three said back.

              The proctor turned to Shalzed and me. “That’s the problem,” she said. “Today, they say they don’t want to become rabbis. But eventually, they will.”

              “And what’s wrong with that?” Shalzed asked. “Aren’t men and women equal?”

              “Because the Chief Rabbinate is Orthodox, and it’s up to them,” one of the women said.

              “Even though the Chief Rabbinate is funded by the government,” I added.

              A man, clearly a rabbi, came into the room. He was wearing a black suit jacket, black hat, had tzitzit hanging out, and was carrying a large briefcase. He was accompanied by another woman proctor. “We’re ready to begin,” he said. The three women quickly sat at separate tables and put away their snacks.

              “Who are you?” the rabbi asked, noticing us.

              “Can you explain why the government of Israel funds the Chief Rabbinate if the Rabbinate doesn’t believe in equality for men and women?” Shalzed asked.

              He gave Shalzed a funny look. “That’s clear- Israel is a Jewish state, so it needs the Rabbinate to maintain the state’s Jewish character.”

              “But if the Rabbinate doesn’t treat men and women equally, it’s not compatible with the state,” I added.

              The rabbi shrugged. “Even though it’s government funding, the Chief Rabbis are completely independent,” he said.

              “So they want the state’s funding, but to still be free to go against its values,” I said.

              The three women looked impatiently at the rabbi’s briefcase. “We need to get started,” one of the proctors said.

              The rabbi looked at me. “Obviously, the Rabbinate are the only ones who can decide matters of Jewish law. The government has no business in that.”

              The room started to feel more distant.

              “Good luck on the test,” I said to the women as I felt myself drawn into the familiar blackness, then a moment later I was back in my apartment. I put a hand on the kitchen table to steady myself. I looked around, but Shalzed wasn’t with me.

              I took a moment to catch my breath, then noticed the pile of homework still on the table. Shira Tavor’s paper was the only one left. I was happy that my day school taught boys and girls together. But that was our decision, not because of the government. If the government tried to change our religious curriculum, I wondered what we’d do.  

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Sources:

An account of how the women were initially not allowed to take the test, then given the tests four hours later from Times of Israel.

News coverage from the Jerusalem Post.

war statue of jesus

A statue gets 75,000 reactions. The war gets less

by with No Comment shalzedstory

A statue gets 75,000 reactions. The war gets less.

A single photo goes viral. Shalzed wants to know why this one—and not the others.

A photo of a statue of Jesus being smashed gets hundreds of thousands of reactions.
Photos of actual people suffering don’t get anywhere near the attention.

This week, Shalzed asks why.

A statue gets 75,000 reactions. The war gets less. Shalzed Wants to Know Why.

After school, I met Shalzed at Stop’n Shop. He was fascinated by what we ate, and wanted me to explain what some of our processed food products were.

“But why do you put acids that decay teeth inside your water?” he asked when he saw a display of coca-cola at the entrance.

“Some people like it,” I told him. “And if so many people drink it, it can’t be that bad.” I was trying to decide whether I should mention that in the summer I sometimes got coke slurpees at 7-eleven when my phone buzzed. I swiped and it was a notice asking me to check out a viral post on Facebook.

“Can I see it?” Shalzed asked, looking over my shoulder.

I held up my phone. It was a picture of an Israeli soldier destroying a statue of Jesus somewhere in Southern Lebanon, under the headline, ‘This is what impunity looks like.’ It already had 75k reactions and thousands of comments.

“I don’t understand- it’s a statue,” Shalzed said.

At school, people had already been talking about this in the teachers’ lounge. “Yeah, but it’s a statue of Jesus. Christians are offended.”

“Has any photo showing people killed in the war gotten anywhere close to that many likes?” he asked.

“Excuse me, you’re blocking the aisle,” a familiar voice said from behind me. I turned to see Rabbi Meyer pretending to reach for a the two liter bottle.

“Have you met Shalzed?” I asked. “He’s from. . . far away.”

“Yes, we met once outside the library,” the rabbi said. That’s right- Rabbi Meyer had passed by when we were discussing the story of Purim.

“We were just talking about why the photo of the IDF soldier destroying the Jesus sculpture is so viral on Facebook,” I said, hoping to change the topic. I didn’t want the rabbi to ask any more questions about how I knew Shalzed.

“So horrific,” Rabbi Meyer replied. “It’s a desecration of God’s name. I already signed a statement of Jewish leaders offering an apology.”

“You must issue statements every day, then,” Shalzed said.

Rabbi Meyer frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Countless people have been killed over the last three years. Tens of thousands are homeless. . .”

Rabbi Meyer interrupted. “The photo of the soldier destroying the statue is uniquely harmful to Israel’s image. It could ruin relations with the Christian community, just when we need allies the most.”

“So the main problem is image?” Shalzed asked.

“I think he means that this photo is being exploited by people who want to stir up hatred of Israel,” I interjected.

“That’s right,” Rabbi Meyer said. He stepped past Shalzed to grab a bottle of cherry coke and put it in his cart. “Antisemitism is at an all time high. Just last week, synagogues were attacked in London. The last thing we need right now is a picture like that.” He began pushing his cart towards the produce.

“See you in shul,” I said as he went over to the grapes. I turned to Shalzed. “It gets so much attention because Jesus is a religious symbol,” I said.

“And symbols are what matter most?” he asked.

“No,” I said quickly, but I couldn’t think of a good explanation. Do you want me to show you the cereal aisle? There are probably more than a hundred different kinds.”

Shalzed ignored me. “Has any other picture of the war gotten as much attention?”

I told him I didn’t know, then paused to consider. “It’s just that in this picture it’s obvious that the soldier is doing something wrong,”

Shalzed shook his head. “Humans only know what’s wrong when the victim is a statue?”

I clicked my tongue. “It’s not that,” I told him. “It’s just that most of the time the facts are complicated. Here, it’s simple- why destroy a religious object?”

A mom came into the store, pushing a young child in a dinosaur shaped shopping cart. The kid pointed eagerly at the coca cola, and the mom sighed. She reached around Shalzed, hardly noticing he was there, and picked up a two liter bottle. “I’m putting this in the cart now, but I’ll only buy it if you behave nice the whole time we’re in the store,” she said. The child clapped, then they also headed towards produce.

“Children drink this too?” Shalzed asked. He wrinkled his nose and began blinking.

“Sometimes,” I told him. “Let me show you the cereal.”

Shalzed blinked again, and I could tell his mind was still on the photo. “Is the soldier going to be punished?” he asked.

I checked my phone. “Not only was the soldier who smashed the statue already put in prison, but Israel replaced the statue with another one as well,” I told him.

“It’s been less than two days,” he exclaimed.

I smiled. “That’s right,” I said. “Every army has soldiers who break the rules, but Israel at least tries to do what’s right.”

“What about other accusations against Israeli soldiers? Why don’t those investigations move as quickly?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we go to the cereal aisle so we’ll be out of the entrance.”

An obese man in a mobility scooter stopped right next to me and said excuse me in an annoyed tone. I stepped aside and he reached over to grab a bottle of diet coke. “Lots of people coming through here,” he mumbled at us as he continued into the store. “Maybe run for Congress if you just want to stand around.”

Shalzed turned away from me, and fixed his gaze on the coke display. “So only when there’s a photo that makes things clear, you act immediately. Otherwise, you just argue,” he said.

“Not exactly,” I told him.

Shalzed pointed to a big picture of smiling people holding cans of coca-cola on the wall above the bottles. “Maybe simple images like that are why humans drink acid water without asking questions,” he said.

He paused. “And don’t act unless the situation is obvious.”

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Read More of Shalzed's Adventures

Sources:

For more information on this incident from Times of Israel, click here.

For details on the international statement of apology from the Jerusalem Post, click here.

For information on the soldiers’ punishment from Reuters, click here.