Latest news with #IsraeliJew
The Age
3 days ago
- Politics
- The Age
Both Israel and Palestine have deep ties to the land
To submit a letter to The Age, email letters@ Please include your home address and telephone number. No attachments, please include your letter in the body of the email. See here for our rules and tips on getting your letter published. I attended a talk this week in St Kilda by peace activists Gershon Baskin, an Israeli Jew, and Samer Sinijlawi, a Palestinian living in East Jerusalem. Both argued it was essential for peace that there was an end to 'competition of belonging', replaced by mutual recognition that both peoples had a past tied to the same land. They outlined how most Palestinians and Israeli Jews long for peace, but for 25 years, extremists on each side had given the other the message that they did not want to live in peace. I was reminded of the words of the Holocaust survivor Edith Eger, 'I also want to say that there is no hierarchy of suffering. There's nothing that makes my pain worse or better than yours, no graph on which we can plot the relative importance of one sorrow versus another.' Samer and Gershon ended by encouraging Australians to urge our government to recognise a Palestinian state as the next step towards peace. Mark Zirnsak, Senior Social Justice Advocate, Uniting Church in Australia, Synod of Victoria and Tasmania We must search our consciences Nicola Redhouse's search for moral clarity and determination is something that we all must emulate (″ When Israel acts shamefully, we Jews must be willing to be ashamed of it ″, 30/5). Day by day the casualties mount in Gaza and the Israeli justification of self-defence and elimination of Hamas becomes ever less believable. This is a war of extermination and we must all search our consciences for the strength to speak out against it. Lorel Thomas, Blackburn South Going forward side by side Feeling paralysingly helpless by the sufferings across Gaza and in other world places, on reading Nicola Redhouse's opinion piece there came a moment of intellectual, moral and spiritual clarity. With a clarion call to her tradition, ″Love that cannot feel shame is not love – it is vanity. Nationalism that cannot feel shame is not love of country; it is mere jingoism″, I found the boundaries shift. She states Judaism ″has never required uniformity of judgment, but it has required a reverence of truth″. With eyes to see, and hearts to feel the reverence of truth of overwhelming evils and suffering, we can still feel love of identity and nation, while we hold our heads in shame, as we rise to work side by side for the shalom, the salem, the intrinsic wellbeing for all precious life and land. Reverend Sally Apokis, South Melbourne Hamas is the intractable obstacle Rabbi Daniel Rabin (' Israel is painted as the villain ', 30/5) is correct about the terrorist instigator, Hamas. Unfortunately Hamas is being written out of the narrative and all blame is falling on Israel. Hamas says it wants a Palestinian state. Very commendable but it also wants the elimination of Israel. Until recently Israel championed and worked for a two-state solution, but its right-wing government no longer supports this ideal. How can one support a solution in which the other side denies your right to exist? Les Aisen, Elsternwick THE FORUM Senseless omission A dearth of safe refuge for women and children escaping family violence is the single greatest factor for why women stay in abusive relationships (' New high-security shelters for women in crisis to sit empty during family violence epidemic ', 29/5). That the May state budget omitted $3.9million in operational funding for high-security units designed to shelter women at high risk of death by family violence (or the $9.6million in ongoing funding requested by Safe Steps), is senseless. Dr Anne Summers in 2022 stated that for many women experiencing family violence (who are simultaneously trying to protect their children), ″the choice: violence or poverty″, is the stark reality, including homelessness (ie couch surfing, sleeping in their car). The state government allocating $727 million for 1000 new prison beds and 88 youth justice beds – 'when money spent on services for child family violence victims' could break the cycle of children exposed to family violence 'using violence in their relationships later in life', is a false economy and short-term thinking. Whereas breaking the complex intergenerational cycle of family violence requires long-term strategic thinking, planning, evaluation and government investment. Jelena Rosic, Mornington
Boston Globe
23-04-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
What Pope Francis knew
I have several stories from the past couple of years when I have been blessed enough to meet with Pope Francis, but one in particular stands out, when, late last summer, he invited a small delegation to the Vatican to discuss issues of storytelling and peace in the Middle East. Get The Gavel A weekly SCOTUS explainer newsletter by columnist Kimberly Atkins Stohr. Enter Email Sign Up Refugees and migrants rescued by members of the Spanish NGO Proactiva Open Arms in the Mediterranean Sea in 2020. Sergi Camara/Associated Press Advertisement Our delegation of five met near the papal apartments in the Cortile del Belvedere in the Vatican. We walked over cobblestones damp from an early rain. We were greeted in the entryway and guided toward the elevators. It was a pristine building, well kept, high-ceilinged. As we turned a corner, we were surprised to see a large artwork on the wall. Six-and-a-half feet high, it was in the shape of a crucifix. It took a moment to realize that the giant cross was made of transparent resin and that the 'body' of the cross was not a body at all but an orange life jacket. Advertisement The artwork hung in the entryway to the pope's personal quarters, a startling symbol of the world's refugees. A life jacket, most likely belonging to an African refugee rescued, or maybe drowned, at sea, in the place of, or in tandem with, Christ on the cross. The artwork the author saw in the Vatican last summer. Colum McCann We knew then that we were there to meet a person who held the stories of others. Among our delegation were a Palestinian Christian, a Palestinian Muslim, and an Israeli Jew. We remained in the waiting room a considerable time while other parties came and went from behind the door. Time held itself. Toward late morning, we were the last delegation. Pope Francis stood from his chair to shake hands. He was 'deeply moved' to meet our Palestinian and Israeli delegates, he said. They were an important part of the peace movement, not just in the Middle East but around the globe. Then he sat to listen. What was most extraordinary about him was how the words seemed to enter him. Viscerally. Tranquilly. His was a gentle presence, but candescent too. He seemed to be accepting the words as gifts. A pang of pain went across the hood of his eyes as his visitors talked of occupation, genocide, apartheid. The dark abysses of the human condition that he himself had often spoken about. He wanted to hear these words in order to know what he could properly say to the rest of the world. It struck me that I had never seen words being accepted in the same way. The brutal realities. The common thread of pain. The anguish of the unsaid. The ignorance. The disinformation. He wanted to hear all this in order to know what he might say, at another time, to other people around the world. When he finally did speak, he did so quietly, with care, compassion, and startling humility. For common phrases — 'Thank you for coming,' 'I am very moved by your stories' — he used English, but for that which he truly wanted to say, he spoke to a Spanish interpreter. Advertisement 'You remind us that we still have light, even in the darkest moments.' 'The peacemakers must embrace one another first.' 'You have the ability to bring change into history.' There was humor too. When it was suggested that he might make a good candidate for the presidency of the United States, he quietly smiled and said, 'I am not quite sure that it would be a benediction.' To be in such a presence was a great gift, not just for the quality of the moment itself but for what it suggested for what might come after — the struggle for any sort of peaceful engagement in a shattered world. I was reminded of a line from Arabic poetry: 'Is there any hope that this desolation might bring us solace?' As we left, we passed the artwork again. It had become more crucifix than sculpture. The life jacket was, of course, representative of whoever had once worn it, but it also represented the lives that the Palestinian and Israeli delegation's families had lost, or the current realm of terror and global indifference. Pope Francis kissed the foot of a man at the Castelnuovo di Porto refugee center outside Rome in 2016. The pontiff washed and kissed the feet of Muslim, Orthodox, Hindu, and Catholic refugees, declaring them children of the same God. l'Osservatore Romano In the corner of the vaulted ceiling above where the crucifix hung, there was a small crack in the plasterwork. The paint was swollen and bubbling. This, in itself, was incredible in such a building: One did not expect there to be a blemish. Not only that, but the crack in the wall had allowed water to seep in. Advertisement It appeared to us, as we left the building, that the outside was seeking the inside and that the rainwater was looking for the life jacket. It was like the line from the Leonard Cohen song 'Anthem': There's a crack, a crack in everything / that's how the light gets in . It turned out that the crucifix was controversial to some who were critical of Pope Francis. Some right-wing critics said that he was 'deifying the poor and the marginalized.' But that was not something Pope Francis would have responded to. He had blessed the crucifix in 2019. He had embraced the wider meaning. He knew.
South China Morning Post
24-03-2025
- Entertainment
- South China Morning Post
Who are Gal Gadot's supportive Jewish parents, Irit and Michael? The Snow White actress calls her teacher mum her ‘personal Wonder Woman', and they discouraged her from watching TV as a child
It seems Disney's newly released live-action remake of Snow White can't catch a break when it comes to controversies. From lead actress Rachel Zegler's eyebrow-raising comments about the original 1937 film to the new production's use of CGI dwarves, Snow White has been mired in controversy since its inception. Gal Gadot's mum Irit is from Israel. Photo: Gal Gadot/Facebook Advertisement Most recently, media outlets have revealed that there is an alleged feud between co-stars Zegler and Gal Gadot. Sources told People magazine that they haven't been seeing eye to eye in part due to their 'very different political views' on the Israel-Palestinian conflict. Gadot, who was born in Israel, has been advocating for the release of Israeli hostages, while Zegler has shown her support on social media for Palestine, notes the media outlet. Gadot has also served in the Israel Defense Forces. A young Gal Gadot with her father Michael. Photo: @gal_gadot/Instagram But what do we know about her parents and their story? Where are Gal Gadot's parents from? Irit and Michael Gadot are the parents of Hollywood actress Gal Gadot. Photo: @irit__gadot/Instagram Gal Gadot's parents, Irit and Michael Gadot, are sabras (which refers to a native-born Israeli Jew) according to an interview she gave to The Forward in 2011. Gal Gadot's grandfather Abraham Weiss, who lost his family in the Holocaust. Photo: @gal_gadot/Instagram Her grandfather, Abraham Weiss, lost his entire family in the Holocaust , she revealed in a post on Instagram. 'My grandfather somehow survived,' she wrote. 'His legacy was to have his own new family and create for himself new roots in this world as all he ever had was taken from him.' Where did Gal Gadot grow up?
