Note: I wrote a blog post a while ago that asked the question ‘History,’ History In the following post, I take a different perspective.
What is history? When you visit a new city or country and take a tour, the guide often tells you about the history of the place. I love that. Perhaps my enthusiasm is based on being the daughter of a father who was a high school history teacher and a mother who was a reading teacher. So, I have been a student of history for basically my entire life. But that doesn’t answer the question of what it is. What does a tour guide include in their presentation?
I am thinking about this because we just returned from a trip that took us to some very interesting places with long, long histories. It is hard not to conclude that when we learn about history, we are often told about wars, and if not outright wars, then power struggles. Is history really a narrative of power? It appears to be so. And, when you dig into it a bit, you sometimes find that those power struggles and wars are about personal things – insults or slights.
This is a stretch, but if Hitler had been accepted to art school, could that have changed the course of history? Would his ego have been assuaged enough? Would he not have needed to go on a quest to prove himself with such horrific and destructive consequences?
The trip we took was D-Day themed, so perhaps it was inevitable that the places we saw were chosen based on the role played in that momentous event, or in World War II in general. Perhaps my perception that history is often the recounting of conflicts or wars is colored by the type of tour we chose.
We took a Viking river cruise that was organized around D-Day. We visited London, Paris, and Normandy. Each place we visited was the site of intense World War II action. Gary and I share a fascination with the topic. Our families were impacted, if not shaped, by those events. Gary has watched countless documentaries about the military battles. I have read innumerable historical novels set in that era. With that said, I learned so much on the trip, and Gary would say the same.
First, I did not understand the scope of the D-Day invasion. It covered 72 miles of France’s coastline. I thought of it as a single beach, perhaps because of the way it was portrayed in movies. In fact, even that beach, Omaha Beach alone, was six miles long. Aside from breadth of the operation, it also involved so much in the way of logistics and coordination among the allies. They built a temporary port to facilitate bringing in more troops and supplies. It was quite an undertaking.
Asnelles – part of Gold BeachGold Beach with remnant of temporary harborPart of Omaha Beach
It was also clear that the difference between success and failure was very narrow. The Allies were on the brink of failure. It is scary to think about the consequences of that possibility. One can’t help but be moved by the extraordinary sacrifice made by the young soldiers who carried out that mission. Standing in the cemetery, which overlooks the English Channel, looking upon row after row of crosses and Stars of David, is overwhelming.
A small portion of the cemetery
The land in Normandy still bears the scars of the battle, too. There are craters in grassy areas, and they have left the remnants of the German battlements. The coastline is also dotted with monuments. The statues, sculptures, and museums express the gratitude of France and Europe for their liberation and tell the story of how that was achieved.
German bunkerAnother German Bunkersculpture on Omaha Beach Monument at Utah Beachsculpture near Pointe du Hoc
Perhaps the most powerful aspect of visiting this sacred space is its breathtaking beauty.
I stood on the cliffs, it was so peaceful, the only sounds were birds and the waves. The stark contrast to what it must’ve been like on June 6, 1944, with the pounding of artillery and bombs falling, is striking. When I looked at the cliffs that the soldiers had to scale, I couldn’t help but be amazed by their strength and bravery.
The cliffs at La Pointe du Hoc
The towns, which withstood the onslaught, are charming. Some have modern elements that reflect the rebuilding effort, but many of the structures, which date back centuries, are still standing. I could have spent a great deal more time there. We visited for two full days, and it didn’t feel like enough.
These photos are from the old part of Rouen, considered the capital of Normandy.
I can’t recommend a visit strongly enough. We need to be reminded of all that went into fighting fascism and what people were willing to sacrifice for freedom. It would be tragic if we allowed our country to continue to slide into authoritarianism. I’m not sure Gary and I needed reminding, but I came away with a renewed sense of responsibility for doing what I can to prevent that from happening.
If one of the reasons we study history is to learn from it and avoid making the same mistakes, I urge everyone to revisit what World War II and the rise and fall of fascism have to teach us. War, even a just one, is brutal and exacts a steep price.
So much to say. I hope I can express it coherently.
I want to follow up on my last blog post which explored the role of the civil service. In that essay I mentioned that we all had a general understanding of the separation of powers. Now I’m thinking maybe we don’t. Given what has transpired in the last week, I think it is important we take a deeper look at the roles of the different branches of government. I have seen it at work up close and personal throughout my career. I believe it is an essential concept, a foundational construct, of our Constitutional democracy and it is being dismantled day by day.
Elon Musk, empowered by President Trump, is upending a structure that has existed for centuries, and he is doing it without a transparent plan for what replaces it. This is a critical issue. It isn’t simply reducing the size of the federal workforce that is underway here; it is the gutting of its ability to function. Some may think that there is so much fat in government that if you cut the staff you would still have an operating agency. That might have been true if cuts were planned, surgical reductions. Across the board cuts or offering all employees a buyout without regard to who is critical, eviscerates programs. In some instances, whole programs have been shuttered. Many of the cuts target either Trump’s perceived enemies or his and his billionaire friends’ interests – not the interests of the majority of Americans.
There are two problems with how things are proceeding. First is one of process – the way thing sare being done – they demonstrate a total disregard for laws and regulations in implementing these changes. The second is one of policy – what will be the consequences of these changes for the American people? Is this what we signed up for? These processes and policies have hurt people already and we have not even begun to feel the full impact.
Our Constitution does not empower an autocrat or an oligarchy. There is an executive, but that executive does not function as a legislature or judiciary. There can be some argument about where the line between making the laws and executing the laws is drawn – and the courts mediate that – but there IS A LINE. Let’s take a look at the line.
I worked years ago for the Legislative Commission on Expenditure Review in New York State. This entity was a bipartisan committee that had staff charged with reviewing programs to see if they were complying with legislative intent. In other words, we would look at the language of the legislation that authorized a given program, for example purchasing by the Office of General Services, to see if the program was operating in accordance with the law. To understand the purpose of the program, we looked beyond the plain language of the statute. We looked at the history of the bill (the bill jacket) and then we reviewed the operations in practice. The purpose of our review was not a traditional financial audit, that was the responsibility of the Office of the State Comptroller (OSC). We audited the performance of the program. Was it effective? Was it efficient? Was it accomplishing its mission? Was it being done in compliance with the law? We made recommendations when there were areas that were falling short.
So, that is how it is supposed to work: The Legislature, with input from the Governor’s office and the public, enacts a bill; the Governor signs the bill and it becomes law. Funding, negotiated by the Governor and Legislature in the budget process, is allocated. An Executive branch agency, as directed by the Governor, creates that program. The Executive branch implements and administers it, enacting regulations through administrative procedures (which the public can comment on) to flesh things out. The Legislature periodically oversees the program by having staff review it. A separate entity, OSC, reviews the financial operation. In sum, power and accountability is shared.
This balance of powers, this separation of responsibilities, plays out at the federal level, too. The names of the entities are different, but the functions are performed by separate entities. Power is not concentrated in any one branch. Is there potential for leakage? Are there instances where the system doesn’t work? Absolutely. Especially when Congress fails to act by not fulfilling its responsibilities.
Legislation can be vague. The Executive is left to interpret things and in that process a program can go sideways or it may overreach. Oversight can be inadequate. Oversight activities, within an agency and by the legislature can be underfunded and understaffed given the breadth and scope of the work of government. Agencies themselves have a role in preventing corruption by having internal controls and systems set up to prevent and/or detect malfeasance or other inappropriate actions. Inspector generals (IGs) and internal auditors within departments help to oversee this, in addition to the separate entities I described above. Removing those internal checks and balances threatens the integrity of the agency. We have seen the removal of IGs already. At the federal level the Government Accountability Office (GAO) performs a similar role as the state’s OSC. Congressional committees are responsible for oversight. All of this might be clumsy and time consuming, but it serves a purpose. Private sector entities can afford to be more streamlined, though they have some of the same concerns and limitations.
As is always the case there is a balance. Oversight is costly and you don’t want to create a whole other bureaucracy parallel to the one that is performing the service. But, some checks are necessary and pay for themselves by preventing or recovering losses. Finding the balance is difficult, but ridding the system of the whole process is certainly not the answer!
What happens when all of that is stripped away – both the separation of powers and the oversight – as is happening with the Trump administration? What will replace it? The judgement of one man, or a committee of men? Why should we trust them? What are their interests? What happens when Congress forfeits its authority and responsibility to oversee activities, as the Republicans appear to be doing? The system, carefully calibrated to prevent concentration of power and corruption, is rendered impotent. Is that what the American people want?
As I argued in my last blog post, we need to improve the system. We need to address the paralysis that plagues our Congress so that it can function as intended. But, we should not throw the baby out with the bathwater. The checks and balances, the division of responsibilities must be preserved. We can’t allow Trump and Musk to ransack our democracy. Please write and/or call your representatives!
For a while, after the election, I put my head firmly in the sand. I could not follow the news. It was all too overwhelming. But, there was only so long I could maintain that approach. I have looked up and I am frightened by what I see of the actions taken by the Trump administration. I cannot be silent.
I started this essay about a week ago and I keep having to change it, add to it, amend it. I can’t keep up with the transgressions. It is also hard to prioritize which of his moves are the scariest. Right now, I am leaning toward Elon Musk hooking up private servers to the Office of Personnel Management to communicate with all federal employees (and have access to all of their information). No one elected Elon Musk, and that is just the first problem with this scenario.
Perhaps in second place is the attack on DEI, especially blaming it for the tragic collision between the jet and the army helicopter resulting in the loss of 67 lives. Again, there are so many things wrong with the Trump Administration’s reaction to that calamity that it is hard to know where to start. One can assume that whenever things go wrong the playbook will call for blaming previous administrations and DEI.
It seems like the Trump administration strategy as they start their new term is the equivalent of a military blitz. Send everything in all at once so we are caught off guard and don’t know what to respond to first. Before you know it, the whole system will be upended. Some may have voted for him for that, but I don’t think the majority did. In fact, when you look at the numbers, Trump didn’t even win a clear majority of the vote. He has no mandate. Upending the system will have many unintended consequences (or if they were intended, they will be damaging in ways most Americans did not sign up for).
I have a master’s degree in public administration and policy from Columbia University. I completed my comprehensive exam to earn a PhD in public administration and policy at the University at Albany, but I did not write a dissertation – that means that I took all the coursework for that advanced degree but didn’t do the final piece. I share this because I have some background, some credentials, with which to evaluate what the Trump administration is doing. Most people do not want to get bogged down in the weeds of policy or administration. I understand that, and I am not going to go that far in this essay, but we do need to take look behind the rhetoric.
Most of us learned, at some point, about the separation of powers which characterize our government structure. You don’t need to go to graduate school to understand that. At a fundamental level, Trump was violating that by trying to freeze federal funds already approved by Congress. He offered no rationale or plan for going forward. Fortunately, his power grab was stopped, but it will not be the last attempt. We will face similar challenges in the future and these questions will need to be faced: Should federal agencies even comply with those orders? Are they constitutional? If they are unconstitutional, can they be disobeyed? Do they have to be obeyed until the courts decide? Meanwhile, how much damage will be done? Which brings us to a subject that is not sexy but may be increasingly important in this current environment: the role of the civil servant.
One of the first things you learn when you go to graduate school in public administration is the history of the civil service. I will not bore you with the details. It is important, though, to know why, in a general sense, we have that system. It was installed as a response to rampant corruption and a belief that the government was not being responsive to the people who fund it. Before the civil service existed, government hiring was through the spoils system – where family members and loyalists were rewarded by elected officials with positions in government without regard to their competence. It was called the spoils system from President Andrew Jackson’s quote ‘to the victor goes the spoils.’
This led to two major problems – ineffective policy and a culture of bribery. The needs of the people were not a priority. This was how things were run from 1828 (before 1828 it was also a system of patronage, but positions were awarded to elites; Andrew Jackson broadened it to include the ‘common man’ in 1828) until 1893 when the Pendleton Act was passed and created the federal civil service. Most states followed suit and created their own versions. It is important to note that the civil service does not cover the highest positions in federal or state agencies. It was understood that it was appropriate that the leadership reflect the will of the President. Secretaries/commissioners of departments and layers below that are political appointees. There was also recognition that under those policy-making positions it was important to have a class of employee who was not beholden to politics or parties, who could maintain stability and provide service when administrations changed – thus the creation of the civil service.
An essential element of the civil service was to provide a pathway to jobs with the government that was open to all, as opposed to through connections or bribery, and that would test for competency. Over the years the system has evolved with more specialized testing especially as government work required more expertise (lawyers, doctors, engineers, etc.). There have also been measures to make the workforce more reflective of the demographics of the country, ensuring that barriers to women and minorities were removed.
The civil service system has its flaws. For one thing, tests are never perfect. There is also no question that it is too difficult to fire employees who are lazy or inept or worse. But that does not mean we should throw the baby out with the bath water. We need to improve the system. President Trump appears to be trying to circumvent the whole structure. It suits his agenda to have everyone beholden to him and the MAGA universe. This would be a case of history repeating itself if we don’t learn from what happened before.
There is another aspect of this changing perspective on civil servants that deserves attention. Starting in about 1980, with the candidacy and election of Ronald Reagan, there has been a steady stream of insults hurled at government employees. Some of that may be a result of those flaws in the civil service system mentioned above. I think of the negative experiences many had with the Department of Motor Vehicles back in the 1970s when a trip to apply for or renew a driver’s license was an all-day affair in Brooklyn. The public facing clerks could be surly and seemingly inefficient. But, that was not an indictment of government as a whole. It was a failure of management and some aspects of the system, but it does not follow that we don’t need a Department of Motor Vehicles or the civil service. In fact, today, I believe, the DMV functions pretty effectively. We renew our licenses (for the most part) and registration online. When we go to the office, it is set up to process customers efficiently. Vehicles do need to be registered, and they need to be inspected. We need commercial trucks to be regulated for the safety of everyone on the roads.
We can argue about how much government is necessary; how much regulation is needed when balanced with the red tape created. That is fair game, and we can agree to disagree. But, disparaging the public workforce is counterproductive. Who wants to go into public service when it is so disrespected? So devalued? Government needs the best and brightest. I will never understand politicians who degrade the folks who implement their policies.
I went into public service because I wanted to help people. I wanted to make a difference in the quality of life of my community, to contribute what I could to improving services. Sometimes I felt frustrated because the work I did was far removed from that goal, so I looked for other opportunities. But even when I was buried in the bureaucracy of the department of tax and finance, I still believed I was doing something worthy. Collecting taxes in a fair and efficient manner is necessary. No one likes paying taxes, but without them essential services can’t be delivered.
The take-aways I offer are four-fold:
Know our history – let’s not repeat the errors we have made in the past.
Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water. Change structures, improve efficiency, but we should not dismantle whole systems impulsively and without planning for what replaces it and understanding why it was established in the first place.
Stop demeaning public service. Even if you are a libertarian, you need to value the essential work of the government and the people who do it. Insulting people is unhelpful to say the least.
Recognize that public and private management are different in important ways. The model of private business, where profit is the motive, is often not appropriate for the provision of public goods. Sometimes it may fit, and it may make sense to move certain functions to the private sector or adopt their systems, but many services don’t lend themselves to that approach.
We can’t sit back and allow the dismantling of our government without proper checks and balances. We need to make sure Congress hears us. We need to support organizations that are bringing lawsuits that raise legitimate questions about whether constitutional lines are being crossed. Please pay attention. Though it is tempting to put my head back in the sand, none of us can afford to do that.
When I was a child, my family didn’t take many vacations. My parents were teachers and money was tight. The travel we did do was associated with my dad’s continuing education. There was one exception. We took a tour of upstate New York. We lived in Brooklyn, so this was an economical, practical choice. As I recall, Dad consulted with Uncle Jack to set the itinerary. We went to Niagara Falls, Corning and Cooperstown. Uncle Jack also suggested Ausable Chasm, but that wasn’t included since it is in the northeast corner of the state; it was too far afield from the other places and would add too many miles and too much time. For some reason, the idea of going to Ausable Chasm stuck in my mind as a place I wanted see. All these years later, Gary and I made the trip this past weekend. I’m glad we did.
When Gary cut back his schedule to three days a week back on April 1st, I had visions of taking many weekend jaunts. I have a list of places that are reasonable drives that I want to go, including Ausable Chasm. Somehow, we haven’t taken any of those jaunts. Life gets in the way and Gary’s work responsibilities have not been reduced as much as I might have hoped. But, finally this past weekend presented an opportunity, so off we went.
I looked for a bed and breakfast or inn in the area (the closest city is Plattsburgh) but I didn’t have much luck finding something for all three nights. I found one place that we could stay for one night, but they had a wedding that would take up the inn for the remainder of the weekend. I decided to book that and then find another place for the other two nights.
We arrived at the Valcour Inn and Boathouse which sits on a beautiful property that faces Lake Champlain. It was an interesting place, very comfortable and lovely, but everything was handled online – there was no person to greet us. We received instructions for checking in via email. We entered the necessary codes, and we went to our room. We had access to a wide porch that ran the length of the building that looked out on the lake.
The view from the porch
There were Adirondack chairs available – perfect to sit, read and enjoy the view. Though it felt odd not to talk to a human being, or be able to ask questions directly, the accommodations were quite comfortable. They also posted a list of recommended restaurants in the area and we chose one for lunch.
We went to Rove’s Café and Kitchen in Peru (yes, there is a Peru, New York. As a side note, it is interesting that our state has towns named Athens, Cairo, Mexico, among other famous world locations.) The café was a small, unassuming looking place. Appearances aren’t everything – our meals were terrific. We went back for breakfast on Sunday morning and again were not disappointed. It’s great to find a small, local place that serves excellent food instead of going to the ubiquitous chains.
Keeping with the theme of taking advantage of local amenities, we went to Peru High School to play tennis. It was sunny but windy which made hitting the ball a bit of an adventure, but we had fun. The tennis courts had lines for pickleball and, in fact, two different sets of people showed up to play pickleball on the court next to ours but gave up because of the wind. Score one advantage to tennis which uses a heavier ball.
After perusing Google, I found an Italian restaurant in Plattsburgh for dinner, about 10 miles north of where we were staying. Nonnalisa turned out to be excellent. Again, it didn’t have much in the way of ambiance, but the woman who waited on us, who may have been the owner, was friendly and accommodating. The food was fresh and very tasty. The shopping center where the eatery was located didn’t look too lively, it was kind of desolate actually, but the restaurant was busy. Guests at two of the other tables were speaking French, a reminder that we were close to the Canadian border.
We read that it was good to arrive at Ausable Chasm early if you want to avoid waiting on a long line to get entry tickets. The park opened at 9:00 a.m. and given Gary and my sleep patterns, getting there at that hour would not be an issue. It was good advice. The Inn provided a ‘take-away’ breakfast – a pre-packaged box with yogurt, nuts, cheese and a pastry, plus coffee and juice were offered. It proved to be quite adequate and efficient. So, we got to the park just after it opened and there was no issue parking and there were only a couple of people ahead of us to buy tickets. When we returned to the Welcome Center just before noon, the line was quite long.
Ausable Chasm offers different kinds of experiences depending on the desired level of adventure. We opted for the package that included access to the hiking trails, the walk along the river and the raft excursion (there was another level up that included rock climbing, etc.). It was just the right challenge for us. The walk along the river in the chasm involved crossing suspension bridges – the kind that bounce and sway as people walk on them. It was unnerving to know that the water was rushing over rocks about fifty feet below us, but I did it without hesitating. Yay me!
One of the two suspension bridges we crossed.
The chasm offers many beautiful views from the rim and from the bottom. It is quite a geological phenomenon. And we learned that it isn’t called a canyon because of how narrow it is. You learn something new every day!
View from the rimView of Elephant Ear from the rimview from the floor of the chasmanother view from the bottom
The walk at the bottom is led by a tour guide. After completing the path, we were left where the raft loaded. We put on life preservers and boarded the raft. The current was mild, though there were two areas of rapids, but even those were pretty tame. It was just the right amount of excitement for me. Having gone white water rafting in Quebec and getting ejected from the raft and being rescued by my son, I was pleased that this was less exhilarating.
Once we completed the water portion of our adventure, we had a choice. We could hike back to the gatehouse or take a shuttle bus. We were ready for more hiking and we took the more challenging route. We made our way through a dry chasm – which involved climbing through and around large rocks that at one time was a river bed before time and nature did its thing and rerouted the river. It wasn’t too hard, and it was very beautiful. The light filtering through the trees and our verdant surroundings were magnificent.
hiking through the dry chasmclimbing out of the chasm
We got back to the Welcome Center feeling like we had a good workout. I needed to get postcards to send to the kids and find a souvenir magnet to add to my wall back home and then we could check into our next accommodations – The Shamrock Inn which was just down the road. A shower was definitely in order – all that hiking in the heat, and I had soaked through my shirt. Not to mention that my hiking shoes and socks were sopping wet from the raft ride.
The Shamrock Inn provided a lovely room, clean and comfortable, though it was a bit small. The friendly owner, who checked us in and lived on the premises, recommended a place for lunch back up the road in Keeseville, a small café that was known for its great grilled cheese sandwiches. After cleaning up, off we went. We were not mislead. Those were killer grilled cheese sandwiches – and I got a frozen strawberry lemonade which was perfect after our morning’s efforts.
One of my favorite things about traveling is seeing different towns – how do other people live? What does a town offer that is charming or unusual? Does the town look to be thriving or is it struggling? Just driving the roads in and around the area was interesting. Fortunately, Gary shares my enthusiasm for that. Keeseville looked like it was trying to comeback from difficult times. Peru looked like a settled community with both established businesses and places that were struggling. In between we saw a mixture of beautiful lakefront homes and trailer parks. We like to look up the towns on Wikipedia, see if there’s some interesting history, what the population is…
In that vein, we went to the Museum of the Underground Railroad which is right next to Ausable Chasm. This area of the north country of New York State had a role in helping escaped enslaved people make it to freedom in Canada. We learned quite a bit about the journey and about some specific people who successfully made it and some local people who helped. We also learned how different views split church congregations in the area. It is a small museum, but worth the visit.
We had one more day in the area and we decided to go across Lake Champlain to Burlington, Vermont, which involved taking a short ferry ride. We rented bicycles and rode along the Burlington Greenway Bike Path which skirts the lake and traverses a causeway that connects the mainland of Vermont to Grand Isle. It was a beautiful ride that took us through forested areas, we passed public beaches, and then to the causeway. We rode 9 miles out and then turned around.
the causeway part of the bike path
We didn’t go all the way across to Grand Isle. 18 miles was sufficient for us, given that we had not biked at all in quite some time. My legs were aching, and Gary’s butt was complaining, but it was well worth it. We rewarded ourselves with cocktails and lunch after returning the bikes. There was a restaurant on the water right across from the rental place. It was wonderful to sit in the shade, drink some water and sip a pina colada.
Me after 18 miles in 85 degree heat – I did it!
All good things must end. It was time to go home – back to the grind of work for Gary and back to my routines. Three days went by quickly, but it did feel like a mini vacation. We did all that I hoped to – satisfied my curiosity about a place I had heard of as a child, took in the beauty that is the north country of New York State, spent quality time together, learned some history, got a good deal of exercise and enjoyed good food. I look forward to our next three-day jaunt whenever and wherever that might be.
Reading that there were chants of “Go back to Poland” at the pro-Palestinian encampments at Columbia University stopped me in my tracks. Weeks later my attempts to ignore it are not working. It is just too painful to try to pretend it didn’t happen.
The stunning ignorance and cruelty that this demonstrates is hard to swallow. Do they not understand what happened to Jews in Poland? This is personal to me. That statement could apply to American Jews, not just Israelis, after all we are hardly indigenous to the Americas. As an American Jew if I was forced to go back to Poland the only remnant of my family would be a monument to the 2500 people murdered in Halbow, Poland in 1942. My paternal grandfather’s parents and sister are buried underneath that monument in a mass grave. Luckily for my family, my grandfather went to America alone in 1921, long before World War II was on the horizon and before the thrall of Nazism. My grandfather was seeking his fortune and Jews were still permitted to immigrate. Millions of Jews in Poland were not so adventurous or prescient.
In addition to my family’s experience, we have the horrors my in-laws endured. They too lived in Poland, though today it is actually Ukraine or Belarus, which introduces another problem with their simplistic chant. Some of the Bakst family did indeed go to Israel after the war. Even if Ukraine or Belarus opened their arms to receive them today, it is not a viable alternative, or is the reason for that not obvious to those protesters?
I wrote about what happened to my father-in-law when he did go back to Iwie in 1944, while the war was still on but his town had been liberated by the Soviet army. I hope you will take the time to read my blog post about that here.
For purposes of this essay, I will summarize. David Bakst was granted leave for his heroism in a battle with the German army. At this point David was in the Soviet army who were unaware that he was Jewish. He was given leave to visit what was left of his family, his father and sister, who were in Lida, about 40 kilometers from his hometown. David pined for his home. He had warm memories of family gatherings and the love he felt among his extended family. The house was a relatively modern one, built in 1929. I think, even though it was unrealistic, he hoped in his heart to reclaim it.
They arrived at their home, which withstood bombing by Germany. A Polish family was living there. Though David was allowed to come into the house when he explained his connection to it, the reception was not warm. He was told in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t his anymore. Upon seeing the interior, with his family’s things rearranged, and seeing his parent’s bed, knowing his mother and younger sister had already been murdered, he collapsed in tears. His father and sister comforted him, they told him there was nothing in Iwie for them anymore, they needed to look to the future, and that is what they did.
David spoke fondly of that house for the rest of his life. But, whatever bitterness he may have harbored did not interfere with his making a new life in a new country.
Clearly the protesters at Columbia, at other college campuses and in the Middle East either don’t know this history or don’t care. If they don’t know it, they have a responsibility to learn it. The latter possibility is even worse. To be aware of the pain that is carried by our family and by millions of other Jewish families, and still chant “Go back to Poland,” is beyond cruel. It would be evidence of pernicious antisemitism, not of a liberation movement. It is also extraordinarily, epically ironic given that the basis of their protest is that Palestinians were forcibly evicted from their homes.
Another problem with this situation is that the media coverage of this has been quite limited. I have not seen stories that explain the problem with the suggestion that Jews go back to Poland. Those who are ignorant have not been enlightened by the coverage; they can continue to live in their deluded world. Does the media assume that people understand? If they understand, they should be called out for their inhumanity. While one might argue that the journalist’s role is not to take sides that is not what is called for here. It is a matter of giving context, explain some history and that is the role of a journalist. Giving that context doesn’t even necessarily mean folks would change their mind about the Palestinian cause, but it might help bring some nuance to the discussion. At the very least, hopefully that disgusting chant would be cast aside. I would not hope for apology, that is probably too much to ask, but it would be appropriate.
We can argue until the end of time about who the indigenous people of the Middle East are. Frankly, I don’t care beyond understanding the history of the region as best we can. We can argue who is in diaspora – aren’t both peoples? Not to mention other displaced persons who have been forced to leave their homes whether it is in Africa, Asia, or Central America because of war, gang violence, natural disasters, climate change, power struggles, genocides. Are these encampments for them too? Is there a point to arguing who is a refugee? Where does the argument get us? Yes, it is essential that we understand and acknowledge the generational trauma that Palestinians and Jews carry, but that is a two-way street. Chanting “Go back to Poland” is absurd and suggests that they are not serious about finding a solution.
There was a ubiquitous advertising campaign when I was growing up – “You don’t have to be Jewish to love Levy’s Rye.” I can see the poster in my mind’s eye plastered on buses and the walls of subway stations. A picture of a cute Chinese boy with a sandwich.
This ad came to mind as I was thinking about one aspect of our trip to the Eastern European capitals. We took tours of the Jewish Quarters of Budapest (Hungary) and Bucharest (Romania). The tour guides were not Jewish, but they showed a deep appreciation and knowledge of Judaism and the culture associated with it. As tour guides, one would expect a certain familiarity with the topic, but not necessarily warmth or affection. In the current environment, given the heightened tensions and increasing boldness of antisemites, I had not expected their sincerity or openness. But, the truth is, as with all groups, you shouldn’t have to be a member to appreciate what that group brings to the table (literally or figuratively).
I was moved by the attitudes of our guides. They came to their interest through their own personal journeys. In one case because of a romantic relationship that led her to live in Israel for 7 years, and when that relationship ended, she maintained her connection, though she had not converted. In the other case academic study of history led to curiosity and more research into Judaism. As part of that process, she became acquainted with the production manager of the Yiddish Theater in Bucharest and arranged for us to meet him – more about that in a bit.
In Budapest the area we explored is still called the ‘Jewish Quarter’ and there are some Jewish residents, but not many. The name is a relic of a time long ago. We walked the narrow streets, learning that it is an area that is now popular among young people because of the restaurants, bars and shops. It is also home to the largest synagogue in Europe – the Dohany Street Synagogue.
Before we toured the synagogue, we stopped at the shoe memorial that lines the Danube River, a display that commemorates the murder of Budapest’s Jews by shooting them into the river which occurred between December of 1944 and early January of 1945. Our guide didn’t sugarcoat things – she acknowledged that Hungary fought on the side of the Nazis and that their fascist party, the Black Arrow, orchestrated the round up and murder of the remaining Jews. I wasn’t expecting that unvarnished acknowledgement but was grateful for it. The memorial was created in 2005, marking the 60th anniversary of those horrific events. The shoes are a poignant and painful symbol of the human beings lost. Men, women and children swept into the current leaving only their shoes as tangible evidence of their existence. Hungary today has a Jewish population of about 47,500 in total, with many living in and around Budapest. Before World War II Budapest alone had a Jewish population of 200,000, with an estimated 825,000 in the country as a whole.
Our next stop was the synagogue. Since we were traveling after the attack by Hamas on October 7, security was heightened. Entries were timed and by appointment only. We went through metal detectors and our bags were checked. The synagogue is so impressive – and reminded me, in its grandeur, of many churches we had visited throughout Europe. I believe the sanctuary could hold 3000.
Neither my family nor Gary’s had roots in Hungary, so we were not tracing our family tree. Oddly enough, one of the names on the headstones we saw in the cemetery next to the shul for Jews killed in the Budapest ghetto during the war years was Sandor Bruder – Bruder was my paternal grandfather’s original last name, he changed it to Brody when he arrived in America. It was chilling to see the name on a grave, but I have no knowledge of an actual connection.
Another note of significance is that the Dohany Street Synagogue was where Theodore Herzl, widely considered the father of modern Zionism, was born and raised. Mount Herzl, the home of Israel’s national cemetery in Jerusalem, is named after him.
Memorial to the victims of the Holocaust in the courtyard of the Dohany Street Synagogue
The tour of the Jewish Quarter was arranged through our cruise company, Viking. There were about 15 of us and I don’t think most of the others, aside from my brother-in-law and his wife were Jewish. I found it interesting that they chose this tour – there were other options. Again, it was heartening to think that folks who didn’t share our heritage were interested enough to make this choice.
Our tour of the Jewish Quarter in Bucharest, Romania was arranged privately so it was just the four of us. The guide, Alina, asked us if we would want to meet the production manager of the Yiddish Theater if he was available. We were shocked to learn that there was a Yiddish theater, neither the city nor the country has a Yiddish speaking population that would seem to support it. We had no idea what to expect but were happy to see the theater and hear what the manager had to say. After walking through the area and viewing the outside of three synagogues – they were each locked because of security concerns in view of the war in Gaza (two were museums, one continued to host religious observances) – and learning about the history and current status of the Jewish community in Bucharest, we headed to the theater.
The production manager, George-Marcel, limped into the lobby to greet us, he was having some knee problems, but that didn’t get in the way of his showing us his pride and joy – the theater. He shared his own history, in English, telling us that decades ago he was at a low point in his life, working a job that brought him no satisfaction, when he heard about a position at the theater as a cleaner. He explained that as soon as he walked into the building, he felt he was at home. The people were accepting. The spirit of the place touched him. Though he was not Jewish, he identified with the stories that were being told. “Their story is our story,” he said, “their history is our history.” He didn’t see the history of the Jewish people as separate from that of the Romanian people. This resonated with me – the world would be a better place if we all believed that. Rather than confining our focus to our own traditions or limiting our understanding to our own tribe, if we embraced learning about each other and thus discovering our common humanity, there would be a much greater chance of peace in this world.
Images of the Yiddish Theater
Over the many years George-Marcel worked there, he took on more and more responsibility, eventually becoming the production manager. In the process he learned more Yiddish and Hebrew than I’ll ever know. He also built relationships with the artists who came through, as well as the small regular staff. The theater receives some government funding, not enough to keep it solvent but something to build on. They stay afloat with additional donations. It was interesting to us that the government, I don’t recall if it was the city or national government, values their work enough to continue funding it. The theater does put on other productions and collaborates on different projects but continues to offer Yiddish plays and musicals. Like with opera, a translation is projected above the stage so the audience can follow along.
After the tour, we went to George-Marcel’s small office, filled with knick-knacks, where a large Israeli flag hung against the wall next to his desk. One of the things common to the countries we visited, particularly Hungary, Serbia and Romania, was the popularity of home brewed brandy – which was called different names in each place. George-Marcel took an unmarked clear bottle from his bottom desk drawer, distributed paper cups and poured a bit in each and we toasted. ‘L’Chaim!’ His homemade brew was made from apples, but my palette didn’t detect anything other than alcohol. The warmth I felt as the liquid made its way down my throat matched the warmth in the room. George-Marcel asked us to sign his guest book which we did, expressing our thanks for his welcoming us and for sharing his knowledge. We wished each other well.
In the lobby of the theater – our tour guide, Alina, in front, George-Marcel between us
It was the last day of our trip, and it was a wonderful note to end on. Though we were thousands of miles from home in a country so different from our own, we made a connection that we will remember for a long time to come.
In honor of the fifth night of Hanukkah, here is a display of menorahs in the museum of the Dohany Street Synagogue.
Note: If you are in Bucharest, Alina offers other tours of the city as well – we would heartily recommend her – alina@wheninbucharest,.com
I have woken up at about 1:00 a.m. the last two nights with thoughts about the war in Gaza. As I lay in bed I argue with imaginary Palestinians – or not so imaginary since I listened to an Ezra Klein, a New York Times writer, podcast that featured Amjad Iraqi, a Palestinian citizen of Israel who is a writer and editor there. I think it is important to be as informed as possible by hearing different perspectives so, though it was uncomfortable, I listened to what he had to say.
He made some important, legitimate observations that need to be acknowledged. The way Israel came into being in 1948, with U.N. Resolution 181 and the subsequent war of independence, was traumatic for the Arabs who lived on that land. The U.N. Resolution which passed in November of 1947 defined two states, one for Israel and one for Palestinian Arabs (Jerusalem was designated as an area to be overseen by the U.N.). The Arabs believed the resolution was inadequate and rejected it; Jews embraced it and began organizing a state for when the British left. The day after Israel declared its independence on May 14, 1948, five Arab countries (Iraq, Lebanon, Syria and Egypt – Saudi Arabia provided troops under Egyptian command) attacked the new state expecting to claim the land on behalf of the Palestinian Arabs. A war ensued during which Arabs either fled or were forcibly evicted from their homes – and in 1949 Israel won. As a result, Palestinians designated May 15th as a day of mourning – they call this sequence of events The Nakba, the catastrophe. It was violent and tragic from their perspective and that trauma, and that narrative, has been passed down generation to generation. We cannot deny that trauma, just as we cannot deny that the trauma of the Holocaust has shaped our (Jews) world view (though in a very different way). Even if we believe that the founding of Israel was a righteous and necessary thing, we can still understand that it wasn’t without consequence. There was a human cost.
With that said, the question becomes: aside from acknowledging the reality of their pain, what do we do with it? What actions or changes should be made when we recognize it?
If you ask Mr. Iraqi the only answer is to give the land back to the Palestinians. And not just any land – the precise land that became Israel. In addition, if you ask Mr. Iraqi, all Palestinians in the diaspora should have a right of return to that land. That answer is impossible to fulfill and maintain a Jewish state (certainly not a concern for Mr. Iraqi). Israel would no longer exist.
In one way, I understand his argument. Something valuable was taken, it should be given back. But that isn’t the way the world works. First and foremost, it denies Israel’s right to exist. When there is a war, the losing side, by definition, loses. At the end of a war a treaty may be signed, and agreements may be reached where some concessions are made, some property may be returned, and reparations may be offered. But, I can’t think of an instance where the people on the losing side were made whole, given all their territory back. I don’t understand why there would be an attitude of entitlement? Why would there be an assumption that they should get the land ‘from river to sea’? We can argue forever who had it first. Jews can argue their ‘entitlement’ from the time of the first temple. There isn’t a nation on this earth whose borders were somehow preordained – bloodshed has defined all of them.
It seems to me that it is more realistic and reasonable to take the position that there is a compromise to be made – a two state solution – the parameters of the respective states are difficult to hammer out (though it makes sense to start with the original U.N. Resolution) and figure out a plan for reparations. I’m not suggesting something new here – there have been negotiations for a Palestinian homeland for decades. But if the Palestinians come to the table with the perspective that Mr. Iraqi offered, there is no room for negotiation. There is no path forward. Mr. Iraqi made a vague suggestion of decentralized entities – not nations. While I am open to other models of governance, you can hardly move forward without a more concrete structure to offer that is ready to be implemented.
Putting aside for the moment his position that the only option is to give all the land back, Mr. Iraqi made the point that Palestinians had tried everything to achieve their goals – diplomacy, civil disobedience and ‘minor’ armed resistance – and that none of that worked, so Hamas launched the attack of October 7th. He didn’t exactly justify the nature of the attack – he said time would tell if Hamas leadership authorized the brutality or whether militants went rogue (Meanwhile, just recently Mahmoud Abbas, the leader of the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank said that Israel conducted the massacre at the music festival! Many pro-Palestinians will be willing to believe that). But, Mr. Iraqi was saying that their desperation left them no choice but to attack. I would argue that they didn’t try everything – it seems clear to me that there was and is another option.
What if in 1948 or at subsequent points when a Palestinian state was offered, not that it encompassed what they believed they were entitled to, but it was land and it would be under their control, they accepted the terms? And, what if, instead of keeping refugee camps, they built cities and towns with the resources they did have? And what if their thinking was, we will make this homeland as strong as possible, with a productive economy and an educated citizenry? They might have achieved their ultimate goal that way – if they shed their idea of themselves as victims and built a nation, who knows what would have happened? Why wasn’t that an option? Why isn’t it still an option?
I can imagine progressives reading this and saying that wasn’t possible – they were oppressed. I would draw an analogy to a child who grows up with abusive parents. At a certain point, if you want to be a productive adult, you need to take steps to heal yourself. It can’t be done alone – support is needed – but the recognition that you need to fix yourself, that first step, needs to be taken by the individual. I think it is no different with an oppressed people. Leadership needs to emerge that empowers people to heal their wounds and celebrate their strengths – not through terrorism, not through rage, but through education and growth. We can understand that a person who grows up with abusive parents might turn violent, but we need to offer another path forward. As a society, we cannot accept violence or murder as a viable response. No one is served by spending their life defining themselves as a victim. The fix for that is not to become a vigilante or a terrorist – that is misguided and only digs the hole deeper.
I live in the real world, so I recognize that this is not simple. We can’t flip a switch and change a national identity. Our national identity as Americans has emphasized rugged individualism and that has a toxic side (i.e., gun culture). Adjusting that, or even recognizing the negative aspects of it, is not easy. I also understand that the current state of conflict in the Middle East benefits certain actors – Iran is served by the role the Palestinians play. There are powerful interests served by the chaos in the Middle East aside from Iran. China and Russia might see opportunities they can exploit. I don’t have answers, but we have to understand the perspectives and accept the need for concessions. One point that Mr. Iraqi and I would agree on is that the status quo, even before October 7th, was unsustainable for both Israelis and Palestinians. Listening to Mr. Iraqi I was not optimistic about the future, but once again, I have to hope that each side can come to their senses and make the necessary compromises so that Israelis and Palestinians can live in dignity and peace – and the further killing of innocent people can be prevented.
King Herrod’s Palace pool on the coast of Israelone of three sources of the Jordan River – Tal Dan, Israel
Have you ever taken a visual field test? It is part of the evaluation I get when I visit the opthamologist. I take them pretty frequently because I am suspicious for glaucoma and have had other vision issues. The exam involves looking through a lens at a white surface, focusing on an orange light in the center, and pressing a button each time you see a flashing white light anywhere in your field of vision – hence the name of the test. It isn’t painful. It isn’t invasive. But it deeply annoying, especially for me who as a routine matter has floaters and flashes of light. It isn’t easy to distinguish the little white dots from what I usually see and leaves me wondering whether to hit the button.
My vision, on an ordinary day, is like looking through a dirty windshield where there are certain spots that have schmutz (a technical term). Unlike a windshield, though, the spots move. This has been the case most of my adult life and I am used to it. I do worry that it will get worse. I am grateful that I can see, and I don’t take it for granted. Though I have had this issue, among other eye problems, for many years, I have not been diagnosed with anything that suggests that I have progressive eye disease. I do see two different opthamologists at least yearly to keep tabs on it.
I took one of those tests the other day and in the middle of it, everything went black. Fortunately it wasn’t my eyes. The power went out. Emergency lights came on briefly and then everything else buzzed back to life. A technician scurried into the room and told me I would have to start the visual field test again. Oh well. Not a big deal though I didn’t relish the idea of spending yet more time trying to figure out if what I was seeing was real or my usual visual stuff.
I finished and eventually was taken to the doctor’s office for the actual eye exam. But it turned out that their Wi-Fi was down as a result of that brief outage earlier. I was told I could wait and see if it came back up or I could reschedule my appointment. Apparently, the eye doctor didn’t feel he could see patients without access to the computer system. Really? He couldn’t look at my eyes and take notes? I can’t say I understood, but I didn’t argue. Our reliance on technology can be the topic of another essay.
I decided to reschedule. I was frustrated, but thought ‘how could I make the best of the situation?’
My eye doctor is located in Saratoga County, about a half hour drive from home. I knew the Saratoga Battlefield was nearby. I have lived in this area for over 35 years and never went. It was a crisp, late summer morning. I decided it was time to venture forth. I plugged Saratoga National Historical Park into my GPS and took a lovely 15 minute ride to the grounds. Entry is free!
It turned out to be an auspicious day to go. The first battle of Saratoga, also known as the Battle of Freeman’s Farm, was fought on September 19, 1777. I showed up on the anniversary of that fight – the 246th anniversary to be exact. They were having an educational program to commemorate the date.
I learned a few things. I probably learned some of this before but had no memory of it. I didn’t recall that there were in fact two battles – the first the British won. The second battle was the decisive victory for the Americans that turned the tide of the war. That one occurred a couple of weeks later, October 7, 1777. Benedict Arnold was one of the heroes of the battle, before he switched sides. It is said that if he died there, and he was injured, he would be remembered as a hero of the Revolution.
There is something about battlefields, not that I have visited that many, that is eerie. I had a similar feeling at Gettysburg – of standing on hallowed ground. The sense that something of import had happened there. A stiff wind was blowing across the fields and there weren’t very many people around so there was a desolation to it. I can’t explain it, but I felt the weight of history, of the souls that fought there. Maybe it was just my imagination, but it moved me. I’m glad the site has been preserved.
I also learned that the British weren’t only at war with America. They were in conflict all over the globe – with France, Spain and the Netherlands, to name a few. I also learned that the Revolutionary War led to a split in the Iroquois Nation, with most of the tribes siding with the British. The Oneida fought on the side of the Americans. It was also interesting to note that the army of the colonies was integrated. Enslaved people (forced to fight instead of their ‘owners’), freemen (Black), Native Americans and colonists fought side by side. It was later in America’s development that the army became segregated.
Not all Americans supported the cause which led to conflict among the families that lived in the area. One farm couple, the Neilsons, left their home to get out of harm’s way and their farm was commandeered by Benedict Arnold. The main house has been restored and I walked in to take a look. The general had a canopy bed, but there were four other cots sharing the modest space. It was interesting to hear that the couple came back after hostilities ended and raised 8 children there. Here is a picture of the home.
Hard to imagine a family of ten living there! These days we Americans have very different expectations about space requirements.
The landscape is beautiful. The area is a great place to hike or bike. The Hudson River runs along the east edge of the park.
The British, who were advancing from Canada, were trying to get to Albany to get food and supplies. The battles in Saratoga were crucial in preventing them from regaining strength.
Though I did not get to fulfill the purpose of my appointment in Saratoga, my time was well spent. I look forward to visiting again.
Stories I Tell Myself 