May 6, 2002 - Daily News
Anger & Protest, But Also Joy of Being Alive
By Pete Hamill
On the West Bank of Fifth Ave., Palestinian flags unfurled in the breeze, while posters bobbed insistently and angry chants filled the air. The occasion was the Salute to Israel Parade. And about 250 demonstrators were assembled behind police barriers to be sure that the parade of 100,000 supporters of Israel did not pass without protest.
GREAT DAY - Paradegoers holding Israeli flags line Fifth Ave.
yesterday during the annual Salute to Israel Parade.
DISSENSION - Pro-Palestinian protesters hold anti-Israel signs
during demonstration at parade.Photographs by Ron Antonelli
"Occupation's got to go!" they chanted, over and over again. "Go home! Go home!" And then switched to, "Hey, hey, ho, ho, occupation's gotta go!" One poster said: "Bush plus Sharon = Axis of Evil". Another said, "We remember Deir Yassin: 1948". Another: "No Taxpayer $ for Sharon Death Machine". And another: "Not in Our Name".
Across the avenue, in the endless shadow of the General Motors building, supporters of Prime Minister Ariel Sharon's Israel shouted back and held their own signs. One said: "Arafat Can Kiss My —" and showed a photograph of bared buttocks. Others said: "End Arab Terrorism", "Remember Sbarro's" and "Bin Laden Hates Israel".
The protesters on the west side of the avenue were gathered in the shade of trees on this day of hard brilliant sunshine. Many were Jews. A young Israeli woman wore the words "Enough of the Occupation," lettered in Hebrew across her brow. She was reluctant to give her name, but said she had been in New York for five years. "I hope I'm not the only one," she said. "I learned here that you don't have to think in a certain way. Sometimes you have to leave your home to see better."
A young Jewish man also said he didn't want to have his name in a newspaper. "I don't want anyone to give my parents a hard time," he said. "You know, they always come on with this stuff about being a 'self-hating Jew', if you say that a certain Israeli government is doing stupid and brutal things. I'm for Israel. But I'm also for justice for the Palestinians. Terrorism is horrible and so is killing innocent people. They have to talk, right now."
Talk of exile
On the southwest comer of 59th St., nine Orthodox Jews stood with the pro-Palestinian protesters. They were part of a group called Neturei Karta International or Jews United Against Zionism. They were dressed in the familiar clothes of an 18th century shtetl, but also passed out literature that included a website (www.netureikarta.org). A rabbi named Yisroel Weiss explained their position:
"We are against Zionism," he said. "The Torah teaches that Jews are forbidden to leave exile. Jews were sent into exile by God and Zionism was created by nonreligious Jews. They have convinced the West, the media, everybody, that Zionism is Judaism and it's not. They have convinced people that if you criticize the Zionist state, you are an anti-Semite and that's just not true, either."
The parade was starting now, with some politicians being booed by the protesters, who stood with their backs to The Plaza hotel. Some 10-year-old marchers seemed surprised by the protesters, as if seeing something totally unexpected. A few adults shouted vehemently at those waving Palestinian flags, their words a blur. One Jewish war veteran, old enough to have fought at Anzio, shook his head in disgust. When he saw the Orthodox Jewish protesters, he stood for a moment, raised his hands, thumbs against fingers, and made the classic New York sign for: "What is this?"
Rabbi Weiss was explaining that in his view, "the stealing of Palestinian lands, the oppression of Palestinians, is against the principles of Judaism." He cited the Torah, the Talmud, the prophet Jeremiah to support his belief that "God put us in exile and only God can bring us out."
Others offered more secular views. The Socialist Workers were there with slogans that felt like the refried beans of the 1960s. One young man walked around in a T-shirt that said: "Queer Jews Against the Occupation". A few spoke quietly about the basic issues: an end to terrorism, occupation, settlements in the occupied territory.
"I don't want any more kids to die," said a Palestinian-American — "Hamid, just Hamid" — who has lived in Brooklyn for 26 years and who was wearing an American flag lapel pin. "No Israeli kids. No Arab kids. None. Not one more. Palestinians have to get rid of Arafat. The Israelis have to get rid of Sharon. Get the old guys out. Get new people in there, young people, people who want to live together. Otherwise, there's no hope."
This man explained that the turnout of pro-Palestinian protesters was small, but that was, because many people were afraid. They were afraid of being photographed and then rounded up later to be held without charge by the agents of Attorney General John Ashcroft. They were also afraid to make themselves visible to people with whom they work. "But because they are afraid, doesn't mean they are terrorists," he said. "They have families, they have kids in school, they don't want trouble. They're just like everybody else."
There were uniformed police on each side of the avenue, all cool, relaxed and professional. Plainclothes cops moved through the crowds. But there was never a sense that violence could erupt. The parade marched up Fifth Ave., with American and Israeli flags waving, and thousands of people joined in solidarity and a kind of tempered joy.
The ultimate test
Many surely supported the iron-fist policies of Sharon, but just as surely many (almost certainly a minority) simply accepted him as the elected leader of the 54-year-old state and wanted that state to get through this extraordinary, heartbreaking and violent test. Sharon would pass, as all mortals must. Israel must survive.
"Media Lies, Kids Die," said several pro-Palestinian signs waved at cameras by protesters, echoing the sentiments at a pro-Israel demonstration a few weeks ago. In the Middle East conflict both sides often suggest that the deck is stacked against them by the media. Yesterday a few people hissed at a visiting columnist for being a Zionist agent, others wondered why American journalists didn't hang their heads in shame. It was a terrible way to spend time on Cinco de Mayo.
But there was one moment to cherish. The parade paused, as all Fifth Ave. parades do, when traffic clogs behind posturing politicians. A group of teenagers from the Westchester Hebrew School, all wearing blue T-shirts and yarmulkes, stopped in front of the protesters. The chanting protests grew fierce: "Hey, hey, ho, ho..." And in reply, the kids broke into a dance, arms together, singing in Hebrew. Then one hefty kid, bearded and smiling, broke from his comrades and passed into a zone of sheer release and joy, passed into a dance as old as the tribe, passed into a dance that would have warmed the heart of the Baal Shem Tov, when he was spreading Hasidism through the hard lands of the diaspora, passed into the country of ecstasy. How fine it was to be alive and to be young and to be a Jew. How fine it was to feel the sun. The dissenters hushed, as if sensing that such a young man was nobody's enemy. And then the parade moved on.
