Hallway to Hell II

And to think I was upset yesterday. This morning produced a different flier, which I had been told about, but failed to find between classes – one that asserts that “Israel has successfully turned the world’s largest prison into the world’s largest concentration camp.”

To begin with, ignoring the conception of Palestine as a prison, the concept of a territory that constitutes a mere part of a country that itself constitutes somewhere around 0.15% of the total land mass of the Middle East as the largest of anything is laughable; but to compare the 1,300 the flier has listed dead in Palestine to the 16,000+ dead in Somalia and the 450,000+ dead in Darfur (just to name two of the more frequently cited ongoing crimes against humanity) – particularly given the role Hamas has played in provoking the IDF into action and keeping Palestinian citizens in the line of fire – is wildly opportunistic and thoroughly reprehensible.

Further, the comparison to a concentration camp is simply appalling. As I’ve written before, I maintain that Nazi imagery is off-limits for use in analogy, regardless of the subject or context; the reasons that the comparison is invalid are, I hope, sufficiently self-evident that they need not be enumerated. I’ll leave it at saying that only once in the long, tortured, and ugly history of mankind have one set of people built enclosed pens that served the express purpose of holding and exterminating another set of people. I suppose it’s that lingering strain of faith in people that would lead me to hope that even the authors of a flier like this could at least feign respect, but I guess this is what I should expect from the people who responded to Yoni Weinberg’s reference to the horrors of the Holocaust at an ASUC Senate meeting on November 19 with venomous, unrestrained laughter.

* * *

As I was walking Telegraph Ave. this afternoon wearing a green t-shirt bearing the insignia of the IDF, the bitterness of the reactions I drew out of people – in body language, guttural noises, and even less ambiguous English – was surprising, even to me. Nor did it come from the usual suspects (fat white guys in keffiyehs, Terry O’Brien, etc.): I drew the marked disdain of no fewer than 10 strangers doing nothing more than walking 3 blocks down the street with what was intended as a harmless expression on my face. One chick told me flat-out that I “should be ashamed of [my]self.”

You almost can’t even get angry at a place where it’s the dude looking for a place to get himself some food, and not the asshole laughing at the Holocaust, who ought to be ashamed of himself.

Almost.

Hallway to Hell

Fliers surfaced today in Dwinelle Hall's hallways advertising “Gaza Solidarity Week,” to take place from January 27-29, as sponsored by a veritable Who’s Who list of the campus organizations – affiliated with the university and otherwise – identified with the Palestinian cause. The flier troubled me for reasons that go beyond the obvious jokes about the 3-day “week” (what is this, Canada?).

First, and most petty, the image printed on the background of the flier shows two Palestinian boys happily playing soccer on a grassy field next to a 25-foot-high concrete wall. Presumably, this is meant to instill pity in the heart of the viewer, suggesting how confined the lives of these children are because of the oppressive measures taken up by their neighbors. For me, though, the height and drabness of the wall fail to take away from the seemingly endless expanse of grassy land just to the right of the wall, and the wall doesn’t seem to bother the children in the picture in the slightest. Personally, it reminds me of hours spent on Ocean Beach in my hometown of San Francisco, kicking around a volleyball (admittedly, not its designed purpose, but it worked fine) with my dad near the beach’s concrete retaining wall. Though I guess I shouldn’t complain – it’s nice to see that, despite what Mr. Salahi, Senator Shah, and crew would have me believe, life in Palestine isn’t all occupation and blood libel at the hands of Zionist predators, after all.

What I find more distressing, though, is the flier’s description of the “We Are All Palestinian Vigil,” to take place on the second (and thus, penultimate) day of Gaza Solidarity Week – specifically, the part that compares the unfortunate deaths of Palestinian civilians during the recent military activity in Gaza to “violence experienced by communities of color here at home.” This is to be followed up by Thursday night’s “We Shall Remain Palestinian Cultural Night,” which invites discussion of any issue, “from Gaza to Oakland.” Methinks this smacks of disingenuousness.

Now, to be fair, is this really just “playing the ethnic card”? I mean, if you discount the fact that members of ethnic minorities living in Oakland have access to free speech, work within the confines of a functional economy, and are represented by a government that gives them access to electricity and running water and has no vested interest in having them gunned down by enemy forces, aren’t they just about the same as Palestinians in Gaza? The quote they picked to lend credence to the comparison comes from the late Berkeley poet June Jordan: “I was born and black woman, and now I am become a Palestinian.” Cosmetic surgery aside, though, I fail to see how such a transformation could ever take place – besides which, the line sounds uncomfortably similar to Steve Martin’s “I was born a poor black child” as Navin Johnson in The Jerk.

The flier really crosses the line when it follows up the “here at home” statement with the line “Remember Oscar Grant,” referring to the poor man killed by a BART policeman on New Year’s Day. Despite what the juxtaposition was meant to suggest, the Grant case and the civilians deaths in Gaza are by no means analogous: the former was an isolated killing by an individual policeman which, pending investigation, appears to have been done in cold blood, while the latter are unfortunate casualties which could have easily been prevented, either by Hamas ceasing firing its rockets at Israeli cities, or else by the same government allowing its citizens to clear an area targeted for attack by the Israeli military when that army issues warnings. Further, the only two groups listed among the sponsors that would seem in any position to comment on “violence experienced by communities of color” in Oakland and thus justify the comparison are the “Black Recruitment and Retention Center” and “Students for Hip Hop” – and the latter’s a stretch.

Unfortunately, this is just another example of Berkeley turning the dead into symbols and ideological ammunition, instead of treating them as erstwhile human beings, with the respect most others would probably agree they deserve. For those keeping track, that makes the score Berkeley 8, The Deceased 0.

The $48,000 Question

And the recall is on.

One of the most impressive – even miraculous – aspects of American government is that it has managed to survive on a Constitution that has only been amended 27 times since 1788, particularly, I would argue, since the world has changed more in the past 220 years than in any other 220 years in world history. While it’s hardly surprising that the ASUC’s Constitution was drafted with considerably less foresight than that of our national government, it is nonetheless disappointing that since it “merely requires a recall petition to include a ‘specific statement of reasons,’ not ‘specific facts’ or ‘specific reasons’ in order to initiate a recall election,” we are potentially set to remove a man from office for no reason and at a reported price of $48,000 – or exactly what the average American earns before taxes for 1.5 years of work.

I suppose that’s what you get for having your founding legal document written by a cadre of inbred marmosets strung out on PCP, instead of an elite council of highly educated geniuses.

As mentioned in the Direct Judgment, “[the assenting three] agree with Senator Moghtader that the reasons cited in the petition against him seem overly vague. However, we are not ruling on their veracity, and they nonetheless constitute a specific statement of reasons, which is all that the ASUC Constitution requires.” The Panel may come to regret these words; I feel the floodgates might have just been thrown open. I myself now plan to initiate recall petitions against Mary June Gascon Flores for having more names than me and Oscar Mairena for being shorter than me. Hell, I presume there are hordes of kids on campus just dying to throw their parents’ money away. They’d just blow it on mortgage payments and food, anyway.

I stand wholeheartedly in support of Senator Moghtader in this Dreyfussian Affair. I know the man, respect his intelligence, and admire his forthrightness; his removal from office would not be a miscarriage of justice so much as a mockery of it. I also firmly believe that almost no instance could justify the horrific expenditure involved in recalling a Senator from a ruling body that is, in reality, so wholly inconsequential. Yet there’s a part of me that wouldn’t mind if this ended up going as its instigators had planned: this could prove once and for all that the ASUC Senate is not and has never been the proper arena for promoting improvement in Berkeley. If, in the end, that's the lesson we have to bring away from all of this, we could do a lot worse.

That said, don’t be an idiot. Make sure to vote on Monday whenever the election finally takes place, and to say no to this ridiculous witch hunt.

Rain Down on Me

The first day of classes yielded few surprises – an endless mob showed up to watch President Obama be sworn in, and presumably because of the prevailing good mood, there were no protests against the situation in Gaza.

The second day of classes yielded few surprises – a vocal swarm staged a protest against the situation in Gaza.

This time, the demonstration took the form of milk-crate coffins draped in Palestinian flags to represent the Palestinian dead (evidently, someone forgot to inform the members of Students for Justice in Palestine that Muslims, like Jews, aren’t buried in caskets), along with the standard bevy of flags stapled to sticks and signs signaling distaste for the neighbors. On the whole, the response – essentially made up exclusively of Tikvah: Students for Israel – handled itself admirably, maintaining its presence while refraining from interfering with the demonstration’s line of visibility. Typically, this display of deferment of animosity was less than mutual, and though opposition and abuse are hardly new, it was still rather jarring, given how little time ago everyone arrived back in Berkeley.

Other than the rain, the day went by in standard fashion, featuring cameo appearances by UC cops and Dean of Students Jonathan Poullard, and various interchanges with Husam Zakharia along the lines of “Don’t hit me!” “Don’t hit me first!” Yet despite its familiarity, the ugly experience yielded a couple of important realizations. (I) That the vast majority of students at Berkeley don’t give a shit what’s going on in the Middle East. (II) That of those who do, those who demonstrate in support of the Palestinian cause don’t consider the rocket fire an act of reprehensible aggression, much less one of war. (III) That the vast majority of politically active young adults who use the term “apartheid” have no real idea what the term describes, or concern as to how despicable their abuse of that word is. (IV) That while this does not necessarily reflect on SJP or the composition of its members as a whole, a sizable number of students are members because their attitude towards Jews – be it one of fear, hatred, or whatever else – is an unhealthy one, which can most easily find a socially acceptable outlet under the group’s auspices.

Perhaps most striking was the realization triggered when among all the hubbub an a cappella group that had quietly assembled itself in front of one of the sets of coffins suddenly burst into a Stanford-themed rendition of Billy Joel’s 1983 smash hit “Uptown Girl” – a timely reminder that we’re just at UC Berkeley, where despite what the Free Speech Movement Café would have you think, no social activity that takes place is of any significance.

At 2 PM, SJP packed up their display and left, leaving behind no trace of their self-righteous indignation except outlines of their coffins left by the rain. It was oddly affecting: a perfect echo of the way that once the dead among their constituency are no longer of use to Hamas as ideological weaponry to pull sway in the international community, it becomes as though they’d never existed.

This image only hammered home the idea that despite how meaningless our clashes are in light of the bigger picture, as long as the fight continues in the Middle East, so too it must in Berkeley. Of course, we need to continue if only in the name of trying to prevent the spread of hate to more innocent passers-by; but even overlooking the sakes of bystanders, the dead that needn’t have died deserve better than this disingenuous, self-serving form of “tribute.” If doing what’s right and respecting the dead on the side I oppose politically means engaging an opponent grounded in hateful irrationality and intent on making my life miserable, so be it. Come rain or shine.

Ruminations on Coronation

And so it is official: the deification of Barack Obama has been ratified.

Tomorrow, the 19th of January, marks the beginning of President Obama’s tenure in office, and the Chancellor of UC Berkeley has graciously invited all to communally celebrate watch with an appropriate air of gravity as the swearing-in is broadcasted on a jumbotron. Refreshments will be duly served. With this final step, the separation of Church (of Obama) and State (of California) has officially been undone.

It’s not the celebration of Jesus 2.0 taking office that bothers me, or even so much the obscene expense the event must entail: it’s the sanctimonious tone with which the event is being touted – as if the reason we’re all invited to watch Barack Obama get sworn in is because he’s going to be the next president of the United States, and not because he’s set to be the millennium’s first Democrat in the Oval Office. I was in tenth grade in 2004, and even though my brother was at Cal at the time, I can’t say I remember what the environment was like in Berkeley when George W. Bush officially began his second term; still, I don’t think I’d be going too far out on a limb in saying it probably involved far fewer flags, Pibb Xtra, and jumbo televisions, and far more hunger strikes and empty threats to defect to Canada.

And yet this goes beyond the everyday worship of the Democrat, by a wide margin: never since the arrival of LeBron James in Cleveland has one man been so universally hailed as a messianic figure in America. The assumption is that Obama is set to fix all our problems in one fell swoop, and to do so with a heretofore unseen level of forthrightness and dignity, at that. Indeed, in the eyes of many, the man has seemingly become both an American hero and the greatest President in our history without so much as having been sworn in. Of course, this is not to trivialize his feat: it simply cannot be a coincidence that he’s the first black American to have ever been elected. However, I would remind the reader that no one hailed John F. Kennedy as an American hero upon his swearing in as the first Catholic President – and if you think that in the heady days of the civil rights movement Irish Catholics were not still subject to tremendous racial discrimination, you’re deluded.

I’m struck by the adjacent celebrations of the life and legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. and the inauguration of President Obama. The former is the man I thank god existed – a true American hero, and a man with a clarity of vision and strength and stability of spirit that all Americans should strive for. The latter is a President-elect who, despite undoubtedly being one of the most notable black Americans in the nation’s history, is nonetheless not (certainly not yet) among the most admirable black Americans in the nation’s history. Yet in all the hubbub over the last week or so, with Bruce Springsteen, Stevie Wonder, Steve Carell, Tiger Woods, and countless other celebrities of legendary-to-dubious stature celebrating the arrival of an as-yet unproven politician in office, have any of them - or anyone on TV, for that matter - stopped to pay tribute to the man chiefly responsible for ensuring that this nation would indeed “rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed,” to see a black man elected at all?

Only time will tell what our one-term Illinois Senator with so befuddlingly little to prove does with his tenure in office. Regardless of what the world ends up thinking of him, it’s comforting to know that he’ll always be Berkeley’s adopted native son and Savior; in times as uncertain as these are purported to be, it’s one of the few things one knows he can depend on.

ARCHIVE #5: ASUC Senate Speech (11/19/08)

[NOTE: This was a rant I gave at the ASUC Senate meeting on 11/19/08, in the context of the infamous concert tiff and the subsequent talk of a campaign to recall Senator John Moghtader. I've decided to post it here because I think it retains an emotional honesty that's inevitably lost in prose, at least when I'm writing. The speech referred to in the 2nd paragraph was delivered by a Dahlia Elkinawy, relating threats of violence on campus directed towards Muslim students, male and female. The text of the rant was recovered from the meeting minutes; I have attempted to be faithful to what I read and to make the text clear. Forgive any instances of syntax errors - this was done on the fly. Retrospective insertions to the text are demarkated by brackets.]

I wish I had something prepared – please forgive me if my statements sound off the cuff… They are.

I’m so glad the last speaker made that speech; I’m here to talk about racism also. I’m not intending to make any grand, sweeping statements, but just to relate personal experience. I feel it’s finally time to relate my story, what’s happened to me since I got here.

Within a week of my coming to Berkeley, about 3 years ago, I was walking around on campus with my kippah – a traditional Jewish head covering – on, and somebody called me a “kike.” And it wasn’t long before that sort of thing was repeated. I’ve been called a “kike,” a “sheeny” [only in Berkeley are the racist swine well read enough to use that one], and a Nazi – presumably, I think, by someone who got their ideological symbols mixed up… And believe it or not, I’ve been called even more offensive things that I don’t want on the record. It’s been absolutely disgusting.

Incidentally, though I appreciate people’s support, I would ask you to please refrain from snapping your fingers – I come from San Francisco and you’re giving me flashbacks of the beatniks. But I appreciate your support.

I’m not here to talk about violence. Everyone here has mentioned violence, which, obviously, makes sense, given what’s been going on… But as someone blessed by G-d with good genes, and a gigantic and strong frame, I don’t feel physically threatened walking down Telegraph at night, and I sure as hell don’t feel threatened on campus during the day. Instead, I want to talk about racism – not because it puts people in danger physically, but ideologically – the danger it poses in terms of damaging people emotionally. To me, this is no less of a problem. I think ideologically, this is a huge problem.

I don’t care about myself. [Pause for consideration of previous statement.] That might sound stupid, but it was exactly what I meant, oddly enough. I don’t feel that my standing in the way of these epithets – that it’s really been a problem. By virtue of a physical ailment I suffer, I spend an hour to 12 hours a day in physical pain that most people would describe as insufferable. I’ve also managed to survive the proverbial rape and pillage of my GPA that’s happened since I arrived in Berkeley.

[My allotted 3 minutes expired. Motion to extend my time was made by Senator Dhar, and seconded by Senators Moghtader and Owens. Thanks, guys.]

Frankly, I challenge anyone in the world to level a challenge at me that I can’t handle. But the fact remains that I know people, speaking as a non-partisan and as an Orthodox Jew, who identify very strongly not with any state, but purely religiously. I’m speaking on behalf of many Jewish friends I have – mostly, for Orthodox Jews, since they are the people in my experience most identified with their Judaism. (Many non-observant Jews also have a strong identification, but because of the rituals involved in Orthodox Jewry, those Jews are more permanently tied up in Judaism. It’s just pragmatic, as it takes up more hours of the day when one forces themselves to follow all the rituals.) Speaking on behalf of many of my Orthodox friends who’ve undergone similar treatment – I worry about that. For many years, I’ve said you can level any charge at me you want, but you attack my family, I freak out, that sort of thing… I can handle anything, but my friends I worry about.

While I’m speaking on behalf of Jews, at this point my comments go out to all racism on campus. I’d speak for all racism on campus, but I don’t feel I’m in a position to, because frankly, as a boring white dude, I don’t have anything to talk about except that I’m Jewish. That’s the only way I’ve been prejudiced against, racially. So speaking on behalf of Jews – but I’d like to think it extends to anyone who’s suffered racism under any circumstances, not just on campus, but in the city (I feel like this city has basically destroyed my soul… At this point I really despise it) – I don’t have an answer. I am, unlike many people I know, painfully willing to accept the fact that I’m a fucking college student and don’t know anything about the way the world works; and that I don’t understand anything about solutions; and that I don’t know how people think, or how they work, or why they work that way. Frankly, that’s why I put this to the Senate. Because for whatever reason, you are the student’s representatives, duly chosen to try and solve these overwhelming problems. I have as much faith in you as I could possibly have faith in any other college students, so I beg you to realize that my message, despite being so hilarious, is also incredibly serious. If I was more secure with myself, I’d probably be able to talk about things this serious without joking about it; but I guess I’m not.

[The 2nd 3 minutes expired; I finally stepped down.]

A Brief Pause

Don't worry.

They say that animals can sense an impending earthquake - that they feel the tremors before they happen (in response, birds take off, dogs run for cover, and turtles don't do anything because it took them all day to get there, so they'll be damned if some uppity earthquake's going to make them move). Similarly, that woozy, thrilling feeling in the pit of your stomach is just you sensing amazing impending news.

As of today, The Mirvish Chronicles has an online store, featuring t-shirts and other assorted merchandise. It can be found at http://www.cafepress.com/mirvchronshop. All prices are list prices - don't worry, I reap no profit - and several of the items feature the phenomenal alternate logo seen below, designed specially for this momentous occasion.


Permit me to take this occasion to formally thank everyone who reads this, and to wish you the very best, from the bottom of my heart, as we move into 2009. Classes reconvene in Berkeley on January 20th; I'm moving back on the 11th. Blog posts are, unfortunately, likely to shortly follow. Thank you for your patience; we now return you to your regularly scheduled whining programming.