Identity: Do We Have to Choose?

I recently read The Dance of the Demons by Esther Kreitman, the older sister of Israel Joshua and Isaac Bashevis Singer, originally published in 1936.   Perusing this week’s Torah portion, Chayei Sarah (Genesis 23:1-25:18), I was struck by similarities between the two.  On the surface there is little to connect the two.  Kreitman’s novel tells a veiled autobiographical tale of a rabbi’s daughter in Poland who feels alienated from her family, the greater community, and the role that she is expected to play.   The tale from Genesis tells the story of Sarah’s death and burial, followed by the mission of Abraham’s servant to find a suitable wife for Isaac.

Abraham:  Esteemed Outsider?

The unifying theme is that of being an outsider.  Abraham, living in what is today, Hebron, describes himself as a resident alien.  Rabbi David Kimchi (12th-13th C. Provence), comments “I describe myself first and foremost as a stranger, seeing that I have come from another country. Yet I also describe myself as a resident, seeing that I have lived among you for many years, and I intend to continue to remain among you.”  He sees himself in an in-between space.  He has lived there for many years, but is not from there.  He is part of the community, respected by its inhabitants, but he owns no land and lives there in the sufferance of its Hittite inhabitants.  And so, he enters a complex public dance at the city gates negotiating to purchase a burial site for Sarah from Ephron the Hittite.

Initially, the populace urges Abraham to bury his dead in the choicest of local sites; no one will withhold a place from him.  Abraham then asks the populace to intercede on his behalf with Ephron, who is standing in their midst.  Ephron offers the land as a gift, Abraham demands to pay for it.  Ephron counters by saying what is 400 shekels between us, at which point Abraham offers payment of 400 shekels with the entire community serving as witnesses to the transaction.

So why is it so important that Abraham buy a plot that is offered to him as a gift more than once?  If the land still belongs to Ephron, he can still do with it as he pleases.  He can turn it into condominiums, a golf course, or a strip mall.  Abraham wants something permanent in contradistinction to his peripatetic existence.

Are We Abraham’s Heirs?

That sense of otherness, of being an outsider, of being in the land, but not rooted to the land, has continued across the centuries.  After the fall of ancient Judea, the next country to give Jews the right of citizenship was the United States, followed shortly thereafter by France, and then gradually other European states.  Citizenship did not (and still does not) necessarily mean acceptance.  Suspicions of disloyalty, dual loyalty, or being a fifth column reverberate across the modern world.

Whether one is talking about the fallout of the Dreyfus affair on French Jewry, the impact of the Cremieux Decree on the Jews of Algeria, or the restrictions that came with greater tolerance in Austria-Hungary’s Edict of Toleration, the Jewish population was viewed as being somewhat foreign, not really French, or Algerian, or fill in the country of your choice.

Outsiders Without Esteem?

I wish I could say that this was merely a historical artifact and that society has moved beyond this attitude toward greater, if not full, acceptance.  Unfortunately, a spirit of nativism has swept over large swaths of the globe. And in many cases, it is the Jews who have been labeled as the other and the reason for the decline of the French, or the British, or the Americans.

In addition, we see growing references to “the Jewish lobby”, Jews controlling the media, or Jews controlling the government, and even a resurgence of discussions of the “Jewish problem”.  Witness the JP Conference held in Somerset, Kentucky this past summer that brought together right -wing extremists, white nationalists, and black nationalists to discuss solution to the Jewish problem in the United States.

Similarly, during campus protests against Israel and Zionism, Jews are still frequently treated as not belonging on campus.  Support for, or even an affinity for, Israel was sufficient to exclude individuals from campus and American life. Violent rhetoric, harassment, vandalism, and even physical assault against Jews have become normalized, as Israel and the Jewish people continue to be pushed to the margins of society.

Not so long ago, being in that in-between space was an advantage for reflecting upon societal norms and expectations, especially when looking at life from the margins.  Kafka’s Gregor Samsa, J. D. Salinger’s Holden Caulfield, and Philip Roth’s Neil Klugman can offer readers a greater understanding of the human condition by their somehow being in-between, whether one is looking at socio-economic status, age, or social integration.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to keep one foot in and one out.  Where Abraham could describe himself as having a bifurcated identity and being comfortable with it, more and more it seems, we are being asked to firmly plant our feet in one camp or another and in doing so deny aspects of our identity. It is up to us to follow Abraham’s example.  Just as he set out for a new land and society, carrying with him, the memories and experiences of Mesopotamia, his journey was toward wholeness and completeness.  We cannot be complete without honoring all of our influences and every aspect of our identity.  Let us push back on those forces that seek to restrict us and continue to forge our own path.