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Photo: Udi Aloni

The banality of goodness

Op-ed: Site of Twin Towers’ collapse evokes thoughts of humanism versus needless hatred

“Abraham went up from Beersheba to Moriah

three days

binding and unbinding his son in his mind

three days butchering and weeping

we are still bound and unbound

who are they weeping and butchering

who are they laughing and butchering”

(Haviva Pedaya)

 

The day the Twin Towers collapsed, my family and I lived a mile away from the disaster zone, and I’m not at all certain that the scars etched in our souls by the event have healed. Hence, this past week I felt an urge to return to the scene of the incident. I did it last Friday, on the eve of the September 11 anniversary, which was marked on the occasion of the New Year, that is the day of Eid al-Fitr, which is marked on the day the first human being was created, the day of Isaac’s binding. Or Ishmael’s.

 

While facing the empty space being built up there, as the vacuum created at the site is filling up, the memories came back and overwhelmed me. During the disaster, I ran an advertising agency located near the Statue of Liberty. One of the planes passed right above our team’s heads en route to the crash site. Most employees went into a sort of shock. We had Jews, Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, and of course absolute heretics. The manager was an Israeli with a knitted kippah who prayed three times a day; the shift manager was a Moroccan Muslim who prayed five times a day. Those of us who experienced the horror that day – and many days after that – will forever be linked to this painful time and place.

 

My daughter volunteered at an emergency center at the time and didn’t really have anything she could do, so she brought in a whole family, including the parrot, to settle in our home until the dust settles. Meanwhile, Bush’s America did not wait for long and embarked on a campaign of vengeance against human beings like us, who also died without knows how and why.

 

I remember the candles and tears outside the firefighting station in the neighborhood. Even one fireman did not survive. Out of the sadness, I thought about the “banality of goodness,” the kind of thought that befits any man or woman of faith: After all, every fireman who stepped into the inferno seemingly acted in line with protocol for a municipal worker. How banal, yet nonetheless, each one of them died a martyr’s death.

 

Will we be able to pray together?

In the same grain, those who act in line with the banal protocol of evil undertake an act that desecrates the sanctity; an act of defilement.

 

A few weeks ago, when the issue of building a mosque at ground zero began to heat up, Shaul Rosenfeld wrote an article here about the “danger posed by moderate Muslims.” Muslims, whoever they may be (according to Rosenfeld) are evil-doers from time immemorial, aiming to take over the world via terror, while inhibiting the wonderful town of Cordova in Spain (a city which the Islamic center is slated to be named after.)

 

It appears as though any attempt to share another narrative, about the good Muslims, will include a measure of apology and cooperation with this secular and Islamophibic “supreme doctrine.” Hence, the most appropriate response may be the publication of an article written by some German or Austrian anti-Semite, possibly from the neo-Nazi party, where the word “Jew” appears instead of “Muslim.” Perhaps it’s even simpler to just add the word “Jew” alongside the word “Muslim” in a joint position paper of needless hatred.

 

Rosenfeld wrote that Cordova evokes the memory of the brutal Muslim conquest of the Christians. Yet is this Cordova? In the familiar global narrative, this town (during its Muslim era) was actually a symbol of interfaith tolerance. Is it really worthwhile for the nationalistic Right, for the purpose of promoting needless hatred, to completely erase the shared fate of the Muslims and Jews in Cordova – the glorious fate (Maimonides,) and the tragic fate (the expulsion from Spain)?

 

History can be interpreted by anyone as they wish. It only depends on what one’s heart desires.

 

Yet the eve of the Twin Towers’ collapse anniversary, which coincided with the day Man was born and the binding of Ishmael/Isaac, was an excellent day for stopping to divide the world to Muslims and Jews, or to secular and religious. Instead, we can divide it to people who celebrate the creation of Man, whoever he may be, and those who slaughter and laugh while scarifying our sons and theirs on the altar of nationalistic or religious hatred.

 

I look at the site where the mosque may be built, think back to our Cordova, and think that on the slaughtering-laughing side we have al-Qaeda members, who fight the infidels whoever they are, alongside those fighting against Muslims whoever they are.

 

Perhaps now, should the mosque be built, we may all be able to pray there together – Jews, Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, and absolute heretics. And if not pray, maybe we’ll be able to mourn together. Hatima Tova and Eid Mubarak to all.

 

 


פרסום ראשון: 09.16.10, 00:44
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