August 28, 2007 by admin
On Tuesday I will fly to Uganda to spend the fall semester studying and traveling. This new beginning also marks the end of my brief stint as a Lilith Blogger. Throughout the summer, I have tried to expose the genocide in Darfur in two ways: by describing the actual crisis and by highlighting the international community’s response. Overwhelmingly the situation “on the ground” is dire, while the anti-genocide movement is thriving. Clearly, there is a disconnect between the tireless efforts of countless students, adults, celebrities and (some) politicians, and the continued suffering of the Darfurians. Does this mean that the activists should give up? Absolutely not. The anti-genocide activists’ work is valuable even if the immediate goal of stability in Darfur has not been reached yet. Here’s why:
1. The anti-genocide movement that has erupted over the past few years (over 600 STAND: A Student Anti-Genocide Coalition chapters and hundreds of Save Darfur groups) is possibly the first time in history in which ordinary individuals are working together to demand more of their international institutions. From high school students writing letters to the Secretary General of the UN, to average citizens directly funding the African Union peacekeepers, people are expecting more of the multinational organizations that were intended to prevent catastrophes such as genocide from occurring. Our interest in international affairs and global governance signifies that we are being better watchdogs. It is a shame that millions of Darfurians had to suffer for us to open our eyes, but now that they are open who knows what future calamities might be avoided due to our increased vigilence and pressure on international institutions.
2. Never underestimate the importance of the individual. As Robert Winters, the former director of the US Committee for Refugees, said: “People die one at a time, not in millions. We must never forget that. Nor let anyone else. Otherwise, there is the danger of becoming numb to it.” Even if one Darfurian’s life was saved due to our letters and phone calls then our work is not in vain. Additionally, the anti-genocide movement is about human beings reaching out to other human beings, not about “saving” a certain allotment of people. Genocide can only persist when perpetrators cease to view human beings as individuals, and instead see them as part of a larger ethnic, racial or religious order. The attitude that recognizes the importance of the individual challenges the generalizations that allow for discrimination.
3. Rabbi Hillel taught us that when we are faced with inhumanity, our duty is to be humane. We do not have to remedy every tragedy, but we must preserve our compassion and empathy that make us so distinctly human. Even if our efforts are not drastically changing the day-to-day life of Darfurians (the UN-AU force might not hit the ground for months, the Janjawid and Sudanese government continue to terrorize Darfurians), it is essential that we stay tuned and stay involved, lest we concede our personal integrity.
4. In the highly complex 21st century world, we do not yet know how to create lasting social change. The anti-genocide movement is about pulling as many levers as possible, including internet activism, targeted divestment, public rallies, art, music and more. Today’s anti-genocide activists are still learning what works in globalized economies and cross-cultural societies; this knowledge will provide valuable information for other humanitarians, environmentalists, progressives etc.
I enumerated these “silver-linings” to encourage anti-genocide activists to stay committed and not to give in to frustration or compassion fatigue. Yet it is equally important not to be deluded into thinking that we have “succeeded” based on these tangential victories. It is the realities of the Darfurians that count and until we ensure their stability and peace we still have a long way to go.
I appreciate all the comments you have left me and wish you all a sweet and peaceful new year. L’ shana tova.
–Sophie Glass
August 27, 2007 by Mel Weiss
So I spent many hours this week watching the recent CNN special, God’s
Warriors (on YouTube, where you can
find it, too). Whew! What a complex and complicated set of information
to absorb. It’s been a constantly playing record in my brain: how on Earth
are we meant to deal with people who insist on fusing politics with their
own fervent political beliefs?
The special itself was pretty enjoyable. Mostly, although obviously a
gimmick for better ratings, I was pretty impressed that CNN supported such
a project in the first place. To devote six hours to God’s
Warriors—a.k.a. the extreme fusion of religion and politics—is to first
and foremost commit to making people admit that the problem is not only
“over there;” it’s a universal problem. Letting Chrisiane Amanpour run
the show was a good idea; she never once let slip any personally-held
religious beliefs, and she although she often questioned people with a
gentle incredulity, she let almost all of them talk openly in response.
And she did manage to bring up women and a very simple gendered analysis
of the whole deal—“Fundamentalism of any stripe is bad for women,” which
is true enough.
August 24, 2007 by admin

While there are plenty of serious, discussion-worthy things going on in Israel this week, I’m going to take a walk on the lighter side and turn to a more frivolous subject. Underwear. In particular, irreverently Jewish themed underwear for women.
The company is called JewButt, the panties come in two styles (available only online for now at JewButt.com), and 10% of the profits go to the Rape Crisis Center in Jerusalem.
Based in Israel, JewButt’s founder, Beverely Paris, is a New Zealander who made aliyah in 1991. She has a day job but decided to take an entrepreneurial foray with something Jewish and fun that wasn’t a t-shirt. Underwear was the next logical step, I guess.
While slogan panties are not exactly my thing, this sounds like an idea I’d like to get behind–pun intended–particularly since part of the profits go to a great cause.
Butt, to be frank (which is what I call myself when I’m being honest), I am sorely disappointed with the execution of the idea.
In a Jpost article Paris defends her brand, and herself, against anticipated criticism:
Paris explains that although some people find the JewButt concept slightly risqué, she has a deep respect for religion and is religious herself. “For me, JewButt is about Jewish identity, and it’s playful. It’s about fostering community and having fun with it. People shouldn’t take it too seriously,” she says.
But the problem isn’t that Paris’s slogan undies are too risque, it’s that they’re not risqué enough. Or smart enough, frankly. Irreverent humor should be fun but should also be taken seriously enough to actually be humorous and irreverent.
A panty that says “kosher style,” now, that’s not half bad. Because the idea that one’s behind would be kosher-style, like a pastrami sandwich, or a pickle, is funny. But the other available slogan, which reads, “No Original Sin. No Saints. No Virgin Birth,” baffles me. How do the basic tenets that separate Judaism from Christianity belong on underwear? And how are they funny?
They’re not.
Having “Jewcy” written on my behind is a lot funnier, and makes a lot more sense.
Paris said friends and family offered numerous slogan ideas, so if this was the best they could come up with she needs to get some funnier friends and family. I could offer her my own, they’re very witty.
In conclusion, a question to ponder: Just how exactly does Jewish-themed underwear foster community?
Discuss.
–Rebecca Honig Friedman
August 22, 2007 by admin
I’ve been into polls lately. I don’t mean the political polls concerning the upcoming election (though I’ve been keeping an eye on those as well). I mean informal polls where a question is posed and open for discussion. It’s empowering to have a forum to express my opinion. I enjoy the opportunity for self-reflection and appreciate the glimpse into the zeitgeist that polls provide. However, in a normal day of paper reading and blog surfing, I rarely come across polls asking questions I find particularly interesting or valuable. “Is Paris too exposed?” “Should Don Imus apologize?” Nope, not relevant to my life.
Last week, at my post as guest editor of Jewcy’s blog, The Daily Shvitz, I asked readers to answer a series of multiple choice questions about how they make food choices, whether or not they eat meat (and whether killing it themselves would impact their decision), and how they relate to kashrut. The answers were fascinating and diverse – just like the Jewish community. Access that survey here.
This week on Lilith, I want to ask something a little more open ended. It almost goes without saying that Jewish women and food have a complicated relationship (weight, cooking, tradition, and commandments – need I say more?)
So, I want to hear from you: As a Jewish woman, what has been your most profound “food moment?” (Men, you are more than welcome to answer the question from your own point of view.) I interested in hearing moments from across the good, bad, and ugly spectrum – anything that was formative for you.
For me, the first time I baked challah was up there. So was the time I dealt with the possibility that my kosher-keeping partner might not be comfortable eating in my non-kosher kitchen.
What’s yours?
–Leah Koenig
August 21, 2007 by admin

Mia Farrow is an active part of the “Dream for Darfur” campaign.
Officially, the Olympic Games are a series of sport competitions, but unofficially they are a global arena for political activities. In the 20th century, Hitler used the 1936 Olympics in Berlin as a platform to promote Nazism; the Palestinian extremists “Black September” killed Israeli athletes at the 1972 Olyimpics Games in Munich as a display of their anti-Zionist beliefs; Jimmy Carter pushed the United States to boycott the 1980 Moscow Games as a response to Soviet aggression in Afghanistan; and South Africa was banned from participating in the Olympic Games until they ceased their apartheid policies in 1992.
And now in the 21st century, the Save Darfur Coalition is using the 2008 Olympics in Beijing as an opportunity to highlight the Chinese government’s compliance with the Sudanese government’s genocidal campaign against the Darfurians. China is the largest supporter of Sudan, buying approximately 80% of Sudan’s oil. Sudan uses a considerable portion of its oil revenues to finance the genocide in its western region of Darfur. Save Darfur’s latest campaign “Dream for Darfur” aims to shame China into pressuring Sudan to stop its genocidal practices and immediately deploy United Nations-African Union hybrid peacekeeping force.
The “Dream for Darfur” relay began in Chad on August 9 and will continue over the course of four months. It will pass through cities that have historical ties to mass atrocities including: Yerevan, Sarajevo, Berlin and Phnom Penh, as well as many other cities in the United States.
The anti-genocide activists’ clamor over the “Genocide Olympics” has already influenced Steven Spielberg to demand that China change its policy towards Sudan or else he would step down from his position as the 2008 Olympics’ artistic director. Immediately following Spielberg’s threat, China sent a special envoy to Sudan.
When did celebrities replace politicians, and sport competitions replace international diplomacy? Why is Stephen Spielberg, and not President Bush, writing letters to China’s President Hu Jintao? It seems that our world leaders’ ineptitude at resolving the crisis in Darfur has left a vacuum that is being filled with athletes like Joey Cheek who donated his Olympic prize to Darfur relief efforts, and actors like Mia Farrow, who recently carried the Dream for Darfur Olympic torch in Kigali, Rwanda to commemorate the Rwandan genocide.
Regardless of whether it is right for sport competitions and celebrities to take the place of international diplomatic forums and politicians, the reality is that the 2008 games are politically charged. While the “Dream for Darfur” torch is traveling across the globe, the people of Darfur must continue to wait for the relief they have been falsely promised countless times by politicians who crudely allow athletes and celebrities to do their work for them.
–Sophie Glass
August 20, 2007 by Mel Weiss
You know when you spend a lot of time thinking about something, and then suddenly it seems to be everywhere? I’ve had that feeling recently. First, Ruth Wisse’s almost-out book, Jews and Power, showed up in the Lilith office, and within a day I’d devoured it. Then, this week’s
New York Times magazine features a cover article entitled “The Politics of God”. And this coming week, CNN is featuring a series of specials on political/religious figures in Islam, Christianity and Judaism. As someone who can’t get her mind off of the connections between
religion and politics, it’s kind of like the world’s been reading my mind.
The excellent Jews and Power focuses on Jewish politics—or rather, the ways Jews have constructed and envisioned power, which was generally distinct from hegemonic views. But it nicely illuminates the way that religion can not only influence how politics are conducted, but how for much of the world, for nearly all of history, religion has been political. If we find ourselves surprised by that fact, it’s as much a product of our American history as our modernity. We’re so removed from Europe’s religious wars, from everything from the Hussite massacres to the Balkan conflict of the 1990s. I think sometimes it makes it hard to understand a lot of the rest of the world.
August 17, 2007 by admin
I’ve spent the past few days defending Jewish women against all sorts of stereotypes and criticisms, and, frankly, I’m exhausted. I personally know so many amazing Jewish women, and I report on amazing Jewish women I don’t personally know all the time. So all this complaining by Jewish men about Jewish women makes me think there must be something wrong with Jewish men.
For starters, there aren’t enough of them.
(Yes, that sounds like that joke from Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall”: “The food is terrible … and such small portions,” but there’s truth to it).
There are simply more Jewish women than men (there are more women than men in the general population, too) — not to mention men have far less pressure from biology and society to get married by a certain age — and so Jewish men have the luxury of being picky, and of complaining.
When they do decide to choose a wife, finally, and settle down, they often marry women who are younger than they are, leaving single Jewish women in their upper thirties and forties with an even smaller pool of Jewish men to date.
The editor of the L.A. Jewish Journal, Rob Eshman, has what he clearly thinks is a brilliant solution to this problem: encourage single Jewish women over the age of 35 to intermarry.
I have to admit, it’s superficially an appealing idea. The women would expand their pool of potential mates, making it, perhaps, easier to find a suitable husband; hopefully they would have children before their eggs ran out, and those children would still be Jewish by birth. Brilliant!
Except that it’s not. It’s actually quite patronizing and insulting.
Jewish women who are 35 and over and looking for Jewish men to marry aren’t doing so just because their rabbis are telling them to. These are adults we’re talking about, who we should assume are acting according to their own convictions and value systems, not just doing what their rabbis tell them. (While this may not be so in ultra-Orthodox circles, that’s not where the problem of unmarried women exists).
Having Jewish children is not the only reason one would want to marry a Jewish spouse — sharing Jewish values and community is, and should be, just as important. The idea of telling women, hey, just go out and marry a non-Jewish man so you can have a kid already, undermines women’s abilities to make their own decisions and, even worse, reduces them to walking wombs to be guided, if not outrightly controlled, by the community.
And another thing. Eshman’s argument is inconsistent. It’s reminiscent of another bit of advice I’ve heard — don’t have premarital sex, but it you’re still not married by the time you’re X age, well, maybe it’s ok. While this reasoning is obviously meant to encourage psychological health, I don’t think I need to point out its inconsistencies. The same ones apply to Eshman’s thinking. If you’re going to say that women should not be stigmatized for marrying non-Jewish men, why start at 35? Why put women through 15 years of dating disappointment?
Because Eshman’s viewing this only as a desperate move.
But the only thing worse than desperate dating is a desperate marriage.
Eshman is clearly well-meaning, but way off-base.
–Rebecca Honig Friedman
August 15, 2007 by admin
Last week I went home to Chicago, and boy was the living easy. My parents escorted me home from the airport where my mother’s gazpacho and a roasted potato frittata waited. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies rested in a tin lined with wax paper in case I wanted dessert (I did). The next day we got up for an early stroll through my neighborhood’s farmers’ market, stopping at the stands for sweet corn, heirloom tomatoes the color of watermelon flesh, and squeaky cheese curds from Wisconsin, which the stand keeper proudly announced had been made at 1:30pm the previous day.Now (if I may be so bold), local vegetables are my territory. I organize CSAs across the country and belong to one in Brooklyn. I shop religiously at farmers’ markets, regularly cook all-vegetable meals, and get depressed in the winter–not because the weather is gloomy, but because the lack of available produce in the Northeast leaves a gaping hole on my plate and in my heart. So, I was excited to go home with this bounty–to slip slices of that tomato between mozzarella and basil, or pair those salty cheese nuggets with a ripe honeydew melon.
But just as I started fussing in the kitchen, my mom walked in. Soon she was chopping the cucumber for the salad I was preparing, and grabbing her sweet balsamic vinaigrette out of the fridge without consultation.
“Can I help you with anything,” I heard myself saying, despite being the one to initiate the food making.
“Oh, I’m almost done,” she said, turning to arrange slices of raisin challah on a plate.
I grumbled as I plopped down onto the couch, waiting for her to finish making lunch. Before I’d realized what happened, and without her explicitly meaning to, she had kicked me out of her kitchen. Then again, that’s the way it had always been.
August 14, 2007 by admin
A Sudanese refugee child in Israel.
Photo: Ariel Jerozolimski
It is 1,128 miles from Khartoum, Sudan to Jerusalem, Israel. Many Sudanese travel at least this distance to reach Israel in order to escape persecution or to seek economic opportunities. Just this past weekend 70 Sudanese refugees joined the other 1,200 Sudanese refugees and illegal immigrants already living in Israel. These immigrants have found shelter in Kibbutzim and private homes but the daily influx of Sudanese has unfortunately led to the state-sanctioned policy of housing Sudanese men in Ketziot prison, alongside security prisoners. The lack of shelter options, health-care and education are just a few of the problems the refugees have faced since arriving in Israel. These issues have raised the question: does Israel have a unique responsibility to shelter and provide for refugees?
Interior Minister Meir Sheetrit announced that a top priority is to build a fence along the Egypt-Israel border to prevent the illegal flow of immigrants and refugees into Israel. As for the illegal immigrants that are already in Israel, Prime Minister Olmert’s bureau recently announced that Israel would absorb the roughly 300 refugees from Darfur, but will deport migrant workers and non-Darfur Sudanese people to Egypt. This decision is distressing because Egypt recently shot and bludgeoned several Sudanese asylum-seekers trying to cross the border into Israel and refugees confessed that they were persecuted while traveling in Egypt. These events indicate that deportation to Egypt could threaten the refugees’ safety.
Israeli university students have become particularly active on this issue and launched a petition against deporting Sudanese asylum-seekers to Egypt. 63 members of Israel’s 120-member parliament have signed the petition that declared: “The refugees have sought protection and sanctuary in Israel. The history of the Jewish people and universal moral values mean [that] we have to offer it.” Knesset Member Yuli Edelstein echoed many people’s concern when he said, “The State of Israel has to do all in its power to aid the Darfur refugees, because they’ve been through a terrible massacre, and returning them to where they’ve fled from could cost them their lives.” Another Knessest member and signatory Zevulun Orlev said that, “Jewish morals and Jewish history obligate us to treat refugees in peril with the utmost sensitivity.”
I believe that it is important for Israel to accept the Sudanese refugees and that any housing, educational and health-care issues can be overcome by true political will. These refugees would not have been displaced had the international community intervened before the conflict mounted to its current humanitarian crisis. Many countries, namely the United States, have spoken-out against genocide in Darfur, but have not committed military forces due to political and logistical reasons. Actively accepting some of the 2.5 million Darfurian refugees is a non-military display of commitment to the lives of Darfurians. While the world callously delays the implementation of a robust UN-AU peacekeeping force, the minimum that the international community could do is offer protection to the refugees.
–Sophie Glass
August 13, 2007 by Mel Weiss
I had the extreme pleasure of being hosted this past weekend by an older couple—a good friend’s grandparents—who found me confusing and, I hope, fairly enjoyable. I think they were a little perturbed when they found us lighting Shabbat candles in the kitchen, but were both surprised and pleased to learn that I’ve studied Yiddish. My grasp of the language is far from what I’d want, but I’ve put some time in learning both Yiddish songs and American Yiddish culture, so I can carry a conversation. I learned about the International Workers’ Organization, where one of my hosts studied Yiddish fiction. (“So it was like the Arbeiter Ring?” “Far to the left.” “Socialist?” “Worse!”)
I happened to learn about a segment of their family—not religious, but also not tapped into the same sort of secular Jewish culture that these staunch leftist Yiddishists were—that voted Republican. Because of “the Israel issue.” And, given that I had lit possibly the first Shabbat candles their kitchen had ever seen, and that I was wearing a Hagshimim shirt emblazoned with “I LOVE ISRAEL. I WANT PEACE,” they were curious to know my view on this. And my response is, it infuriates me.
I don’t believe in one-issue voting, actually. In a lot of ways, it bothers me. I almost decked a young man in a London bar who scoffed that the only reason I disliked George Bush was because of the Iraq War. Now, I happen to be someone who thinks the Bush administration lied about the casus belli and then mismanaged the thing right into the ground, but I’m also a domestic policy wonk, and I can talk your ear off about Congress’ prescription drug plan. My reasons for currently being nauseated by Republicans are quite diverse.
Of course, there are times when I, too, falter in this regard. I might not think Ron Paul was such a nut if he weren’t anti-choice. I can’t really reconcile the fiercely Libertarian message of ”The biggest threat to your privacy is the government” with the idea of “Dear women, we’d like to dictate exactly what you may and may not do—because we’re the government and we know better!” You might call this one-issue voting, although I wouldn’t vote for him anyway.
Further, voting because of “the Israel issue” strikes me as a singularly bizarre way to enter American politics. If you live here, and have no plans on moving there, then maybe your first and foremost concern will be who’s going to make sure that you can get affordable health insurance, access to free speech, money for college, a job, a home not invaded by local pollution, relief funds if a hurricane strikes, etc. I care about foreign policy, too, but I live here, and the here stuff is what most immediately affects me.
Look, like the tee-shirt says, I love Israel. I have gone many a round with some beloved and less-beloved lefties about why Israel is not always in the wrong, and has, you know, the right to exist. But I have also gone several rounds with American Jews who really believe that loving Israel—the modern nation, not the messianic dream—means supporting it unconditionally. And I think that’s a load of crap.
For me, the beauty of discovering politics was about realizing that I am actually affected by these things, and the realization grows stronger all the time. I love Israel and am affected by it, but in a different—and frankly, more removed way—than I am affected by environmental deregulation that lets arsenic get into the tap water. And so my political concerns for Israel are definitely present—I would never vote for a candidate who outright declared Israel the enemy of America—but I see them in the context of larger, more immediate concerns.
There’s a lot of other things mixed in here that I’m not going to talk about—everything from the flaws of the Jewish Emancipations in Europe to the nuances of modern Zionism. It’s an interesting topic and surely one that we’ll see crop up again—and again and again—as the clock ticks down to election ’08. It’s good, I think, to bring this issue out in the open and discuss it like adults, avoiding wherever possible delegitimizing the opinions of those who disagree with us. But I’d still rather fight about healthcare.
–Mel Weiss