Israel divestment vote at UC Berkeley the latest sign of hostile campus environment

In this article from the Jewish News Service, UC Berkeley alumnus Matt White documents the hostile climate on campus for Jewish students and supporters of Israel that culminated in 11-9 divestment vote.

April’s Israel divestment vote at the University of California, Berkeley (UC Berkeley) is just the latest unfortunate expression of how hateful an environment the anti-Israel movement can create for Jewish students and supporters of Israel on campus. I witnessed this firsthand during my four years as an undergraduate at UC Berkeley from 2007-2011.

In 2010, when the last similar initiative was proposed before the ASUC (UC Berkeley’s student government body), urging the University of California Regents to divest funding from companies doing business with Israel, it was only the culmination to years of hostility against pro-Israel students.

As founding members of Tikvah Students for Israel, the Zionist voice on campus, my colleagues and I were targets for hate. We were spat on. Our signs were blocked and ripped at protests. We were called “Nazis,” “kikes,” “baby killers,” “Christ killers,” and “dirty Jews.” Swastikas were scrawled across dormitory walls and signboards. Jewish students were physically assaulted at a pro-Israel concert. A pro-Israel student senator was voted out of office based on false charges. A filled shopping cart was rammed into a young woman because she was holding up a sign that read, “Israel wants peace.” Israel was libelously compared to Nazi Germany and apartheid South Africa. The Israeli flag was trampled and used as an ashtray. During lectures, some professors screened films that justified Palestinian suicide bombings against Israeli civilians.

Given this history, I thought I knew what to expect when an Israel divestment measure was again introduced to UC Berkeley’s student government. But divestment is never short of nasty surprises.

The acclaimed author and civil rights activist Alice Walker was one of the first speakers during the hearing on last month’s Israel divestment measure. Though her work in the civil rights movement is laudable, her refusal to allow her seminal book The Color Purple to be translated into Hebrew, thereby deliberately withholding from only one group the very literature that can spur change, was a shameless act of bigotry. Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb of Jewish Voice for Peace called on the UC Berkeley student senate to disregard the Jewish voices in the crowd that did not support Israel divestment, because she claimed that a majority of Jews had supported slavery, too.

Most other commentators at the hearing were UC Berkeley students. Sadly, their discourse was no less extreme. That same day, hours earlier, anti-Israel protesters and Israel divestment supporters had gathered on the campus’s Sproul Plaza and chanted, “From the river to the sea, Palestine will all be free,” a slogan that calls for erasing Israel from the map and ending self-determination for the Jewish people.

When the president and vice president of Tikvah Students for Israel mentioned the incident and the anti-Israel chant in their speeches before the student senate, many in the audience cheered for the chant. When an alumna mentioned her harrowing experiences of being told by anti-Israel students that her family in Israel deserved to be murdered by terrorists, there were laughs and snaps of approval. Among the most vociferous pro-divestment speakers was the student who brought Louis Farrakhan, who preached anti-Semitic and homophobic vitriol, to UC Berkeley a year before.

But by far the most ludicrous and horrifying moment was when an Israel divestment advocate insinuated that Israeli soldiers sexually violate Palestinian women with rats. Seriously? This was a whole new level of libel that should have shocked even the Israel divestment activists in the room, but it didn’t seem to.

The Israel divestment bill itself was filled with baseless accusations against Israel. It called for the University of California Regents to remove funding from Caterpillar, Hewlett-Packard and Cement Roadstone Holdings—the latter two because they provide Israel with security technology. Israel’s security fence and checkpoints were condemned as illegitimate, malicious impositions. No context whatsoever was included as to why Israel needs to take such precautions. The massive physical and psychological damage caused by the Second Intifada was largely ignored or dismissed. An amendment was proposed to recognize the daily hardships caused by the security fence and checkpoints, but also the massive decrease in terrorism that occurred after these measures were put in place. This amendment was voted down.

Also denied were amendments that supported a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and called for recognizing Israel as the homeland and state of the Jewish people. When it came to Jews, indigenous rights to Israel dating back thousands of years were not on UC Berkeley’s agenda, unlike the support and sympathy accorded to all other liberation movements.

Many in the Jewish and pro-Israel communities felt marginalized by the false accusations that hid Israel’s narrative and reasoning and declared one side of the story to be wholly correct, just, and endorsed by the UC Berkeley student government in the name of an entire student body. The rejection of these more fair-minded amendments further reinforced such feelings.

He concludes:

Those who advocated for divestment at UC Berkeley ought not to be called “pro-Palestinian.” They excuse or justify Palestinian extremists’ self-destructive terrorism against Israeli civilians, and are silent about the appalling crimes committed by the Hamas and Fatah leadership against their own people. They selectively ignore more than a half-century of the degradation of Palestinians, often enshrined in law, by countries across the Middle East.


Instead, guilty of omission, they function solely to ensure that Israel wrongly becomes an anathema to their fellow students. This is accomplished through such initiatives as the one that hit the UC Berkeley senate floor last month, an initiative whose supporters wore their true feelings on their sleeves during that heartbreaking night.

Read Matt Whites' article in its entirety at the Jewish News Service

ITAMAR: A poem by Matt White

Matt White, a student in Tikvah; The Zionist Voice at UC Berkeley wrote this poem . It debuted March 16 at a candlelight vigil in memory of the murdered Fogel family of Itamar,Israel. We are honored and humbled to reprint it here.

ITAMAR

Blessings
and
thank you to Suheir Hammad for your words to inspire me
Sweet and acidic like a perfect grapefruit
like
a blood orange

Gentlemen, let us bless
“May it be your will, Hashem, our G-d,
that there be no distress, grief,
or lament
on this day
of our contentment”

Red rooftop white wall blind sunlight bright
soft skies in haze on Shomron
hilltops and pine groves dot this
village cautious advanced upon by shrubs and bushes
fennel, sage, thistle, za’atar
shimmy in a circle around Itamar
cactus soldiers in a wild common battalion
fragrant handful clutch soil realization belonging
Homeland herbs

Desert wind you carry the spices of Solomon
Desert sand you twirl and strangle
Desert veil you shroud a beloved
Desert eyes made now of glass

Shabbat queen
Shabbat mother Shabbat bride
Her garments torn on jujube thorn
Her gullet roars no sound to mourn
Dare break the silence day seven shorn

Children are dead no hero was born
Massacre you shalom ’aleikhem
Butcher you yedid nefesh
Shabbat woman
Cannot wail cannot tear her hair
Her sleep was robbed her bed invaded her joy drained of fluid her

Prayers jewels treasures nightmares
Sleep is robbed of Shabbat woman she cannot
Sleep again cannot give herself in
To rest cannot
Sleep no more
Crystal shrapnel on challah cover

How can she seek to give comfort
because Jew father
in bed with Zionist entity baby girl
Her purple tiny custom-made hoodie embraces his
blue jacket with white striped sleeves
trying to sleep
Because in her three months she
could but cry out that she
demanded to grow
can never say a first word because
slashed throats don’t speak
they only bleed
only bleed

Shabbat woman how can she seek to give comfort
mother is cut open on the bathroom floor
because she hid her hair in her tikhel for the world to not see
her grace
just as in Ramallah
a doppelganger hides her hair in her
hijab for the world to not see
her beauty

because sour iron ruby pool surrounds and soaks this crumpled kippah
because preteen boy child is slapped down on his back
with holes in his flesh
a criminal for being indigenous
did you know that a heart can boil

did you know that doves have dirty infected wings
that three year old has a knife enter his heart twice to stop it
that three year old neck must be racist
because it was designed white
that three year old neck was hacked apart
because
vocal cords already
know how to dare speak
"am yisrael khai”

because it ain’t no disgusting accident
ain’t no human shield
ain’t no clear and present danger
ain’t no violent threat
ain’t no combatant in a war which has sides
ain’t no terrorist with bombs as a breastplate

Shabbat woman what power have you
against Gush Katif evacuation catastrophe
against orange groves being chopped down and used as space for
Hamas rocket launchers
against a retreat with hands held steady above our heads
that translated into metal rain for a decade in the life of southern Israel
that introduced civilians to the words Katyusha, Kassam, Grad
what power have you to weep
when refugees from ethnic cleansing
find themselves converted to corpses in the wilderness of Itamar

Shabbat woman please try to caress the face of
the survivor Yishai
because he’s two years old
and he has blood caked and spattered on his legs
and he screams for his parents to wake up
because he screams and cannot be quieted
try to caress his face
because his mother will never again be able to do just that

tell Tamar and Roi that there is no justification for terrorism
that their lives are a miracle
that were they found they would have been murdered too

one
two
eight
a family of Jews

Dalaal al-Mughrabi
hijacks a bus in the second week of March 1978 Israel
murders thirty seven
murders from them thirteen children
murders credibility to the Palestinian cause

and in the second week of March 2011 Israel
while Itamar weeps until salt claws at its eyelids
al-Bireh devotes
its largest town square
to Dalaal al-Mughrabi
to her name
to her memory
to her hate
and the children of the family Fogel
are stabbed in the heart again and again

Salam Fayyad
Mahmoud Abbas
you whisper in my ear that you want peace
you tell me on your government-controlled TV idiot box bullshit that you want peace
My peace has no knives
My peace has no shrouding of the map of Israel
My peace has no networks broadcasting glorifying a previous batch of Itamar murderers
My peace has no political party of my own design claiming responsibility for murder
My peace has no Fatah lies
My peace gauges no party as moderate just because the alternative is worse
My peace has no incitement to murder
My peace has no terrorists

To the people the world has sent into damnation such to be “settlers”
who CNN and Al-Jazeera would rather call “settlers” than human beings
who Western media can’t see as innocent victims in their homeland but rather the fact that they had it coming to them
that this was an “alleged” terror attack

People who stand in defiance to a world that no longer cares about slaughtered Jews

I dare you to live

And I shriek out to the lone few of you who
pour tar and kerosene and feces on peace negotiations
and you’re craven enough to do it
in the name of Judaism and Israel and Zionism

I shriek out to you
My Judaism has no reprisal attacks
My Israel has no threatening the lives of innocent Palestinian townsfolk
My Zionism has no smashing car windshields
No invasion of property to throw stones in a third racist intifada
No demonstrations with signs saying “death to Arabs”
My Zionism burns with pride and kisses the cheek of the
Civilian in the neighboring town of Awarta
who speaks in Arabic
and declares the injustice of killing babies

Give me your hand as I look into your eyes I don’t care what color they are because to me they are beautiful they are gorgeous because they and I thirst to be loved my Muslim Christian agnostic atheist Arab raceless brothers and sisters

Palestinian people I want to dance to the beat of your darbuka
I beg you to listen when I say
My peace has no pastries and candy passed out on the streets of Rafah
To celebrate an infant having the breath sliced out of her

Hamas of Gaza your candy tastes like Iranian warheads
Your candy tastes like shells and mortars
Your candy tastes like a crown of thorns
Your candy tastes like charred bones and howling blood
Your candy tastes like the murder of my people
And your residents tell me joy is a “natural response” to the murder of Israelis

I’m sick I’m so sick I want to vomit I surf on waves of nausea I
spill my words like Tishbi wine into internationally deaf ears I
can’t process my thoughts when the United Nations is controlled by maniacs I
feel so abandoned when evil tyranny anti-Semitism can thrive

I light my candle for Rabbi Udi
for Ruti
because they now have no tikhel no blue jacket with white striped sleeves
because they now are clothed in black and white tallitot

I light my candle for Yoav
for Elad
for baby Hadas
because there are three tiny coffins in Givat Shaul
that the world doesn’t give a fuck to see

I light my candle because nobody is going to do it for me

I don’t want no houses built in their honor

I don’t want martyrdom to be answered with human growth I don’t want martyrdom to be used for political purposes even if it makes us seem weak maybe we don’t always have to have muscles maybe the desiccated byproduct of a jihadist genocidal mentality can’t be in dialogue with concrete maybe I want their souls done tangible justice I’ve given up on humans for the time being I want to see olive trees and rotem flower bloom in their name I want to see pomegranates fresh fragrant in their memory I want to see lemon blossoms sticky with nectar in their love I want to see the children in Nablus and Jenin given books explaining with truth how we’re cousins in genes and phantasms all of us and how resplendent this friendship alone on our ship our ship bamidbar in the wilderness of our land isolated vessel how children have futures in medicine art healing for all the times they were told to strap magazines pregnant with bullets across their small frail chests and denied life to others and in so doing were abused denied dreams themselves because knife tangible knife silver blade cutting throats equals knife invisible indoctrination hungry devouring brains intellect hope future washed away in milk in chalk in plasma screen violets scream in suicide

I hold gingerly between fingers limp a natural growth
With a drop of blood
A white cyclamen
With a drop of blood
I’m scrubbing I’m scrubbing oh G-d they’re trying to make out of me
Lady Macbeth
I scrub and scrub until my hands fall off and I go insane

The dolls children left on the floor and did not tidy up
Are frozen with their beatific smiles
They cannot play without a partner

Shabbat queen
Shabbat mother Shabbat bride
Shabbat woman
close
your eyes
because next Shabbat
I want peace