Living My Judaism
From Manhattan to Malawi, from urban politics to the Darfur genocide, my life and work have been strongly influenced by Jewish values and beliefs. My family, which took its Judaism seriously, saw social activism as essential to being Jewish in the world. They actively gave time as well as money to people in need, and I was shaped by their entwined commitment to faith and action.
My maternal grandfather, Israel Edwin Goldwasser, was the first executive director of the Jewish Federation of New York. My mother, Marjorie Wyler, a profound influence on my life, had a 55-year career at the Jewish Theological Seminary. As director of public relations, radio, and television, she helped interpret the ideas and practices of Conservative Judaism for a broad audience. Through her I got to know Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. As were many in my generation, I was moved by his activism and his observation that “in a free society, where terrible wrongs exist, some are guilty but all are responsible.” These are the sources of my lifelong conviction that we all have an obligation to help others, to work for justice, to be advocates for those with less power.
As a teenager I worked at a settlement house camp, painting and repairing buildings and collecting garbage to keep the camp running smoothly. Later, in rural Oklahoma, I worked with people from very different backgrounds, making political and social change on behalf of abused and neglected children. I was a 60s activist, involved with the antiwar, civil rights, and women’s movements. After getting my degree in social work, I did serious community organizing before entering New York City politics.
In all these positions I championed issues that had the potential to improve people’s lives, reflecting the biblical injunction, “Justice, justice, you shall pursue.” Taking a stand against racism, supporting people’s rights to education, economic opportunity and full equality were – and are – guiding principles of my life.
When I left city government in 1998, I was lucky enough to be selected as president of American Jewish World Service, an organization defined by the Jewish imperative to pursue justice. AJWS is dedicated to alleviating poverty, hunger, disease, and oppression among the people of the developing world regardless of race, religion or nationality. We are also committed to educating the American Jewish community about its global responsibility.
AJWS goes out from the world we know into the one we don’t, supporting efforts to improve communities and change lives. In turn, people come to see Jews precisely as I think we want to be seen – as a people committed to justice, ready to make a difference. Our tikkun olam work puts Jewish values on the line in the interconnected 21stcentury world where famine, war, disease, and poverty anywhere on the globe affect all of us.
Our social, economic and political choices bring us into relationships of responsibility with people all over the world. How we conduct those relationships matters. They nurture understanding across cultures, between and among peoples; through them we put Jewish values into practice.
In other words, as American Jews we can make a difference in the developing world. And if we can, we must. The Torah instructs us to care for the widow, the orphan, and the stranger – today’s rural African farmers, Central American slum dwellers, Asians living with HIV/AIDS, victims of war and genocide. Our faith requires that we join in their struggles.
One part of the world particularly demands our attention. In Darfur, Sudan, an ongoing, intentional genocide is deliberately slaughtering people based solely on who they are. With a paucity of information there is not nearly a sufficient response from the world. As Jews, we know better than anyone else the acute danger of silence from the international community. With that knowledge comes an inherent responsibility.
Despite the lessons learned from the Holocaust, another genocide occurred in Rwanda when 800,000 Tutsi were slaughtered, and again in Bosnia when 200,000 people were murdered. Leviticus teaches us, “Thou shalt not stand idly by the blood of your neighbors.” We cannot remain silent.
More than two and a half million tribal farmers have been driven from their homes in Darfur by the Janjaweed (literally “evil men on horseback”), local government-armed militia. Despite repeated calls from United Nations agencies warning of the worst humanitarian crisis in the world today, a systematic program of expulsion, rape, and murderous violence has taken at least 400,000 lives.
I went to Darfur in August 2004 and to Chad in October 2005 and August 2007 to bear witness, to assess needs, and to ensure that funds provided by the American Jewish community were being used effectively. Displaced farmers told chilling stories: the government bombed their villages; men on horses rode in, yelling ethnic slurs and shooting wildly. They stole. They raped. They killed. They stuffed wells with dead bodies or carcasses to poison the water supply, and they burned villages to the ground.
More than two and a half million people have fled to camps for displaced persons and refugees. Tens of thousands of families are packed into tent cities, fighting hunger, illness, displacement, and depression. People whose simple agricultural life once made them self-sufficient now have no means of support. And the situation is deteriorating, with services and protection being eliminated as the dangers escalate.
To date, the more than five and a half million dollars that AJWS has raised has been used to rehabilitate water sources, construct sanitation facilities, and provide therapeutic feeding centers for malnourished children. We have supported reproductive rights workers to provide education in the camps, underwritten a program to combat diarrhea in children and – with several partners – funded a school in a refugee camp in Chad. We are now planning to provide educational services in camps in both Darfur and Chad.
Pressure must be applied on the U.S. government and the United Nations to do more. They must impose tough sanctions. China is the largest buyer of Sudanese oil and 70 percent of Sudan’s oil revenue goes to purchasing the military equipment used to attack the people of Darfur. A concerted effort must be made to force divestment from the international oil companies that sell Sudanese oil to China. We need to remind China that it would lose world standing by preparing for and hosting the upcoming summer Olympics fueled by oil from Sudan.
Across the country, communities are joining for rallies, marches, and vigils to call attention to the atrocities and to demand action from elected officials. Communities are calling for municipalities and states to divest public funds in foreign companies doing business with Sudan. More than onethird of the states have passed divestment legislation as a result of local mobilization. But it will take a broad-based movement to end the genocide. Until the voluntary, safe, and dignified return of those displaced by the conflict, and until violators of human rights are held accountable, our diligence must not wane.
By taking action as individuals, and collectively with our synagogues, each of us is strengthened, as is the larger communitnity, and, ultimately, the global community. When we help the stranger, when we engage in tikkun olam, we are expressing our faith. When others join us, they come – often – to develop or redevelop their own commitment.
We are a people of deeds. As Pirke Avot reminds each of us, “You are not required to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist fromit.”
Ruth Messenger is president of the American Jewish World Service.
