Dear Mitchell,

Thank you, thank you, thank you, for putting into words what is frequently 
missing from the Palestinian side in their narratives:  empathy.  It is so hard 
to explain to others.  You did it beautifully.

With thanks,

Patricia Spiegel Givens
Jewish Community of Central Oregon
Bend, Oregon


From: Hasafran [mailto:[email protected]] On 
Behalf Of Mitchell Weitzman
Sent: Thursday, December 10, 2015 7:10 AM
To: [email protected]
Subject: [ha-Safran] #Readukkah reviews


Posted two reviews on severlal sites but want to be sure they are posted on 
yours. Thank you

Mitchell Weitzman


Book Review of Where the Streets Had a Name by Randa Abdel-Fattah



This review might have had a very different tone if I were in middle school, a 
girl—or a Palestinian.  I chose to read Where the Streets Had A Name, published 
in 2008 by Randa Abdel-Fattah, because I am in the process of writing a 
middle-grade/young adult allegory based on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and 
wanted to better understand the Palestinian viewpoint, especially through the 
eyes of a young narrator.  I was not gearing for a battle, just a great story 
with something I could take away.



The book revolves around thirteen-year-old Hayaat, a likeable sensitive soul 
who lives in Bethlehem (West Bank) and embarks on a mission to retrieve a 
handful of soil from her grandmother's ancestral home in Jerusalem in order to 
cure her ailments.  She takes the journey with her best friend, Samy, a brave 
Christian boy with chutzpah. Together, they encounter checkpoints, security 
walls, and protests along the way.



Beautifully told, with deft use of child-friendly humor and adult historical 
context, Hayaat is a girl to cheer for, one who struggles to come to terms with 
the predicament her people are in, horrific memories of her recent past, and 
hope for the future.



Palestinian life is well rendered, with family quirks and squabbles mixed in 
with generational wisdom that anyone can relate to, including Palestinians and 
Israelis. The Palestinians who populate Where the Streets Had a Name are not 
terrorists, Islamic fundamentalists, or Jihadists. They are, simply, human 
beings.



Unfortunately, and this is where perspective comes in, Israelis are not 
rendered as kindly, save for a liberal American-Israeli couple who work with a 
human rights watch group. Others, mostly Israeli police and military figures, 
are drawn one dimensionally, as cold-hearted, thoughtless characters who seem 
to derive pleasure from humiliating Palestinians. There is no acknowledgment 
that they are there to protect Israelis who have been under near constant siege 
since the day Israel was established.



Security walls loom large in the book—very large—but there is never any sense 
of why the walls are there in the first place. In one of the few mentions of 
suicide attacks, the concern of Abdel Fattah’s characters is not the welfare of 
an innocent Israeli or others who may have been killed, but what punishment 
awaits them from the ruthless Israelis.



Hayaat’s family longs for their pre-Israel home and life, quite understandably. 
 Yet Abdel-Fattah makes only fleeting mention of the contextual situation that 
underpins much of the conflict and thus misses a golden opportunity to add some 
depth and understanding to the story, especially for young Palestinian readers 
who may not be familiar with history.



In one scene, following the 1967 Six Day War, Hayaat’s grandparents attempt to 
reclaim their home that had been seized by the Israelis.  A Jewish couple now 
living there answered the door and refused a request to leave.  They were 
Holocaust survivors, the woman said; her entire family had been gassed. The 
response is one commonly heard from Palestinians. “I’m sorry for what happened 
to your family, but why must we be punished.”



Whatever the merits of either party’s position in that encounter, what’s 
missing from both is empathy.  And it reaches back to the origins of the state 
of Israel, and the crushing of Palestinian hopes for a state of their own. Jews 
beleaguered by pogroms and the Holocaust nevertheless might have been more 
sensitive to Palestinian concerns about land grabs and domination.  And 
Palestinians might have recognized the beleaguered state of Jewish refugees and 
acknowledged their historical ties to the land. Compromise and cooperation 
could have conquered the day. Instead we have more than six decades of war and 
terror, where one lovely fictional girl lives in an occupied land under 
conditions no one should have to experience.



As the book concludes, our Palestinian heroine retains her desire to not only 
survive, but to love. “That in the end,” she says, “we are all only human 
beings who laugh the same, and that one day the world will realize that we 
simply want to live as free people, with hope and dignity and purpose.”


If she can express the same wish for the people across the wall, then indeed 
there may be hope.

***


Book Review of The Bridge Builder: The Life and Continuing Legacy of Rabbi 
Yechiel Epstein



As portrayed in an “authorized biography” by Zev Chavets, an American-Israeli 
author and columnist, Rabbi Yechiel Epstein is a driven, courageous, and 
complex   figure.



He is the founder and president of the International Fellowship of Christians 
and Jews, a group dedicated to building bridges of understanding between mostly 
Evangelical Christians and Jews in support for the state of Israel and other 
humanitarian causes.



Rabbi Eckstein’s outreach to Evangelic Christians was groundbreaking and 
fraught with naysayers and critics concerned about Evangelical Christian 
motives (supporting Israel only to bring on Armageddon) and possible intentions 
with regard to proselytizing Jews. Critics and concerns aside (no conversions 
related to the Fellowship have been reported), Eckstein has grown the 
Fellowship into a multi-million dollar operation engaged in numerous 
philanthropic endeavors.



Who is the man behind all this?  With a rabbinic legacy and ordination from    
Orthodox-based Yeshiva University, Yechiel Eckstein was an unlikely candidate 
to be a bridge-builder between Christians and Jews.  Biographer Chavets depicts 
the origins of Eckstein’s path, which Eckstein terms a divine mission, when he 
is humiliated at his daughter’s Bat Mitzvah.  The presiding rabbi there deemed 
him unfit to recite public prayer due to his visiting Christian churches in the 
early stages of his bridge building.



Chavets chronicles Eckstein’s slow rise to success, overcoming resistance from 
the Jewish establishment, financial struggles, and family disapproval. For all 
the text devoted to his accomplishments, it is Eckstein’s humanity that is most 
compelling in the book.



He seeks approval from a reluctant father.  He struggles to balance his desire 
for personal, emotional prayer with the demands of being a rabbi on the public 
stage. He longs to serve Israel as a member of the Israeli Defense Forces, and 
not only   from behind an office desk.



From this complex man emerges bold acts like the following:  In the aftermath 
of a widely perceived slight from the president of the Southern Baptist 
Convention about the value of Jewish prayer that does not acknowledge Jesus, 
Eckstein broke away from the voices of consternation expressed by the Jewish 
establishment and saw an opportunity to engage the preacher with dialogue and 
understanding.



As a writer who is also exploring themes of bridge building, I found myself 
appreciating Eckstein the man as much as I do the Fellowship he created. I only 
wonder whether a memoir would have been a better instrument to tell his story, 
affording readers a more intimate connection with him.



Eckstein’s journey resonates with our own life journeys.  Quoting Genesis, he 
recalls God commanding Abraham to take his son ‘to the land I will show you,’ 
but he doesn’t tell Abraham where it is. If we don’t yet know where our destiny 
lies, Yechiel Eckstein’s story reminds us that it can be on a road less 
traveled.




__
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