When Will the Personal Become Political?

I’m not sure what I’m feeling at the moment. Yesterday was wonderful. I went to two art museums – the Reuven Rubin House and the Tel Aviv Museum of Art – and thoroughly enjoyed spending as much, or as little, time with each painting as I liked. The Rubin House was something special. His paintings are indeed reminiscent of Marc Chagall, Rousseau, even Frieda Kahlo or Diego Rivera. There is a sense of folk art, primitive even, like the drawings of a child who has lived a hundred years. Like the painting of an old and very wise soul who does not need fancy adornment to tell a very compelling story. I especially appreciated the short film about Rubin, using documentary footage, still photos and video clips, all narrated by the artist’s own voice. Through his use of language, you could tell that here was not a mere decorator, a purveyor of paint and canvas, but a human being who was attempting to express something innate and ageless, something Biblical yet very modern – the building of a nation, formation of a community, the crystallization of identity around core beliefs and precepts.

I struck up a conversation with the young man working at the front desk of the museum, who I guess is like an associate director or events coordinator or something. Like the spontaneous chat I had at a used bookstore the other day, it just reminded me of how much people are looking for a connection – and how hard it is to find.

In any case, after the gallery I went home to plow into my work. It’s a bit frustrating right now, to tell the truth. I mean, I have things to work on, things to research, but I know I could be even more productive if I just spoke Hebrew! Or Arabic. Undoubtedly I could do more outreach with the appropriate language skills, so instead of “fieldwork” I find myself going back to what I know best (but wish I could escape at times): writing, research, online networking. I’m still torn over whether a virtual or an actual office is the right place for me. The pros and cons are pretty evenly distributed. Being self-sufficient and portable (me and my laptop, that’s pretty much it), allows me the time and space to go to galleries, markets, events. But I don’t have the benefit (and/or frustration) of coworkers. I haven’t been able to meet too many new people, and that really disappoints me. I’ve emailed Nir about how I can become more involved, on a people-to-people (person-to-person?) level, with Ashoka Israel. I hope to get answers shortly.

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I spent the rest of my afternoon at Windows for Peace, the organization both Shoshanna and Kelly are working with. It really doesn’t get much more grassroots – or more personally affective – that this. They were in the middle of a 10-day workshop involving about 19 kids, ages 14-17, from Jaffa, Tel Aviv, and Bethlehem. There were Israelis and Palestinians, Muslims, Jews and Christians in the mix. Some of them have been meeting regularly (perhaps 3-4 times per year) for about three years, while others are newcomers. It was wonderful to see these gorgeous young people (seriously, they were all so beautiful!) having fun and being friends and even getting angry at each other, but all in a safe, constructive space. I would have loved to get to know them better, and I think Kelly and Shoshanna are really lucky to have this opportunity.

Still, I know myself and I know my aspirations. When I asked Kelly about “scaling” (i.e. is Windows planning to create more such groups, in other areas?), she sighed and said one word, “Money.” There just isn’t enough funding – yet, at least – to make Windows a larger and more pervasive presence on the peace front. These friendships are amazing and individuals do have the power to chance societies – as Ashoka also believes. But I wonder at the impact, sometimes. Not personally, of course. The impact there is obvious. But systemic impact, impact hitting many layers at once. I’ve read so many times about peace groups and dialogue groups and even a group of Israeli and Palestinians women who lose weight together – and I get frustrated thinking about how many amazing people are actually making peace but how we can’t seem to transcend the personal and make it political.

Politics is so often an ugly word, but when you think about it, humans are innately political creatures. In fact, sometimes I have trouble distinguishing between politics and society, they seem so entwined. Perhaps we just haven’t given the peace process long enough for all these tiny but significant grassroots efforts to reach a tipping point, when all the individuals they’ve affected do indeed become a political movement, one powerful enough to shape policy and reverse decades of zero-sum thinking. In Jerusalem, my roommate and I talked about the need for a generational shift, something we’re building toward but haven’t quite achieved yet. In Israel and Palestine, many of the top leaders are still those with memories stretching far back to the nexus of the conflict in 1948. Once these leaders and perhaps even their successor have passed, and a new and more globally educated cadre takes hold, perhaps the peace process will finally bear fruit.

But until the personal and the political manage to merge, peace will never be attained. Neither top-down nor bottom-up work well on their own. Both are needed. Hence the need for both track I (official) and track II (citizen) diplomacy. Hence the need for a bridge between grassroots and government. Hence my ideal career – bridger, boundary-spanner, someone who works at the crossroads of peoples and nations. Some homeless and at home at the same time. A stranger and a friend.