Not that long ago, we cherished the fact that the late Supreme Court Justices, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and Antonin Scalia, could differ sharply in ideology, while maintaining an impeccable personal relationship.
But our national memory of how to agree while disagreeing seems to have vaporized. Trust built by generations of Americans has become dust.
Following the recent Senate Judiciary committee hearing of Justice Amy Coney Barrett, our oldest Senator Dianne Feinstein a Democrat from California, came under a great barrage of attacks after she hugged and praised Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Lindsey Graham, a Republican from South Carolina for his handling of discussions.
The division between American citizens has never been fiercer and is reminiscent of our Civil War. The long history of the incorporation of American democracy and civil rights into the communities of South Carolina and California has been etched out of our memories. Many people are now referring to our Country as “the Divided States of America.” We could call our current condition, “The loss of American memory.”
We have forgotten that’s how democracy works. The essential norm is that democracy allows plenty of disagreement, because we respect each other as human beings.
Democracy works precisely because there are competing political parties, and none of them have a monopoly on love or hate. In 2018, there was a horrific shooting of 11 Jewish congregants by an evil white supremacist at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh. Its rabbi, Jeffrey Myers, came out to the community to declare a humbling norm for a democratic society: “Hate doesn’t know a political party.” “Hate is not blue. Hate is not red. Hate is not purple. Hate is in all.” This norm of the mutual flaws in all human beings has kept us humble and slow to hate other people. It doesn’t stop us from opposing evil; it strengthens our fight.
Social media tends to be a memory killer. Its short, quick sound bites, hashtags, acronyms, memes and slogans don’t encourage reflection based on a historical perspective. They tend to place us in “the-now” and moves onto “the-then.” The synapse of reflection hardly takes place so genuine discourse is hard to have. While social media platforms have many great benefits like putting us in contact with people like ourselves, they simultaneously can isolate us into camps. Then, the quick bites are like little knives revealing our most predatory instincts. Memes are shrouds of death on our opponents. Acid remarks and name calling are moats against democratic interaction. The meaning of American citizenship is forgotten and replaced by the unmeaning of a brutal war of all against all.
A remembrance of our Faiths can teach us a great deal about how we can mitigate the hatred that we feel towards others. Remember, at the heart of every major religion is the commandment to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18).
This commandment is not simply instructing you to love those who agree with your philosophy, but rather to love those whose opinions you might find offensive. In a democracy, this approach draws upon our long history of heroes who were reborn from a life of hatred. “Who is a hero?” ask the Jewish sages; “He who turns an enemy into a friend” (a quote taken from chapter 23 of the collection of authoritative rabbinic wisdom titled Avoth de Rabbi Nathan/The Fathers according to Rabbi Nathan).
Hate can live in memory for a long time. What we need is a memory of our friendships. This must be the task of every decent human being from all sides of the battle.
War pushes hatreds to the surface. But a peace is much more difficult to achieve if we don’t keep the memory that our enemies are also human beings. The legendary Golda Meir, who was Prime Minister of Israel during the crucial years of 1969 through 1974, was asked to address the long standing hostility and violence between the Israelis and Palestinians. She reflected on the difficulties that the hatreds from war poise for peace. She said, “someday peace will come. And when it does, we will perhaps, with time, be able to forgive the Arabs for killing our sons. But it will be much harder for us to forgive them for having forced us to kill their sons.”
What she meant was that war caused a bitterness within the Israelis that tended to cause a forgetfulness that Arabs are humans too. She essentially echoed the sentiments of the great Sage, Rabbi Akiba, who taught “Beloved is the human being, for he/she was created in the image of God” (Avot 3:18).
Peace cannot exist without the memory of the humanity of our foes. Tolerance and respect for others are weapons of the peace. Our nation has often faced the monumental task of recovering memories of love and respect for our opponents. We institutionalized this memory in our norms such as agreeing to disagree and support for the party system as long as it brings us together in peaceful conflicts.
This task doesn’t get done with nice canned sound bites and calls for “healing” by politicians after they win an election. The memories are in the trenches of listening to our neighbors.
So, the monumental task of healing our Country is in the hands of ordinary people like you and me. It begins with listening.
Let me call attention to our memory of King Solomon, one of the most important and wisest kings of ancient Israel. He was best known for peace. There were no major wars for the majority of his reign, and the people enjoyed a period of abundance (as noted in the historical reference in the First Book of Kings 1-11). It was an era of peace and security in Israel (also see the more chronicle-orientated history in the First Book of Chronicles 22:9).
What was the secret of this king of old?
Solomon was once visited by God in a dream. “Ask for anything,” God said, “and I will grant it to you.”
You might imagine that he asked for more troops or wealth or the death of his enemies. His answer was that a peaceful nation is built for the long-term by something far removed from our quick imagination.
Solomon asked for a “listening heart” (First Book of Kings 3:9). His “listening heart” would enable him to listen to the concerns of others with wisdom and compassion. The memorialization of each other’s’ long struggles and sufferings was the root of Solomon’s justice and the peace of his kingdom.
Is it really worth sacrificing our memories of the delights of our spouses, relatives, friends or neighbors to our political disagreements? It is natural to dislike or disagree with something someone says or does, but if their only crime is that they don’t see eye to eye, then it is no crime at all. Instead of trying to change the opinions of others so that they fall in line with your own, try to understand their perspective, their memories. On what are their opinions based? What life experiences have these people had that led them to believe the way that they do?
In order for a civilized society to flourish we must repair our memories about the others who live with us. This can best be started start if we reach out and listen to those who think and remember differently than we do.
It is unrealistic to change overnight the perceptions and attitudes, which others have accumulated into their memories across decades. But it is reasonable to begin viewing others, even our politicians, in light of memories of the nation’s more charitable and tolerant ways.
Rabbi Shlomo Segal is the spiritual leader of Kehilat Moshe of Southern Brooklyn.
