Reflection

Reflection

“We don’t have to check the pulse of our nationalism.”

~A.D. Gordon

So said A.D. Gordon in the early 20^th century remarking on the Zionist movement. Gordon was born in 1856 in Podolia, Russia, and later emigrated to Eretz-Israel, The Promised Land.

Nonetheless, Gordon decided to come to Eretz-Israel and begin a life of agricultural labor first in Petah Tikvah, later in Rishon Le-Zion and finally making his home in Degania, the first of the kvutsot. It should be remembered that Gordon had been a white collar worker all his life and had no experience of agricultural labor. However, he believed that physical effort on the land would not only bring about his personal redemption but also that of the Jewish people. He attributed pioneer work a semi-religious status, arguing that it created an organic interrelationship between the man, the land and culture. (Jewish Virtual Library)

It has occurred to me today, on this “Patriot Day” that modern Americans wear our nationalism as a badge of unity. The tragedy of September 11, 2001 changed all of us. The intense sadness, sense of loss, and outrage of the attacks bred a nationalistic outpouring and insecure paranoia that has not completely ebbed. Immediately, after the attacks, people began spotting a terrorist behind every tree. Mysterious vehicles were reported to the police and suspicious bundles were reported as possible bombs. We were all on the edge in the immediate aftermath of the destruction. The quiet, resulting from the grounding of commercial air traffic, produced an eerie silence across our cities. As a person who lives near an airport, I’ve never slept worse than in that artificial silence.

About that time, people began rallying around each other and the flag. Suddenly, we began wearing red, white, and blue; professing allegiance to our country with renewed and serious fervor. Banding together with nationalistic fervor seemed to comfort us and help us make it through the worst of times.

Seven years removed from the tragedy, we still check the pulse of our nationalism. Remembrances were offered, speeches were given to somber crowds, red, white, and blue ties worn, and historical lectures given to five year olds. The moments of silence were more profound and protracted than normal.

Today, I gave my lecture the eight year olds in my classroom, children who were 1 year old when the Towers were destroyed. I equated the recovery to the Phoenix. I spoke of rebirth and renewal. But my words felt strangely empty to me as I uttered them. Later in the day, one child remarked to my colleague after their classroom discussion, “We got that Saddam and now we still gotta get that Ben guy.”

I pine for a time when we won’t feel the need to wear our patriotic badges and “…check the pulse of our nationalism.” I wish for tranquil times that calm a turbulent world. I long for peace.