‘The Moral Lives of Israelis’ by David Berlin

Reviewed by Hubert O’Hearn

Although I majored in Political Studies at a very good university and have read widely on the topic of the Arab-Israeli conflict— Dr. Jonathan Schneer’s The Balfour Declaration incidentally was the best political history I reviewed last year— by the time I finished reading The Moral Lives of Israelis for the first time I felt I actually had some understanding of the immensely complicated psychology of Israel and its people. Note that I said ‘some understanding’ for even the book’s author expresses frustration and exasperation mixed with pride and love for the land of his birth.

If David Berlin’s name is familiar to you, it is likely a result of his journalism. A graduate of the University of Chicago, he has written for Canada’s national newspapers and magazines, as well as serving as founding editor of The Walrus, by far our best national magazine. It certainly helps The Moral Lives of Israelis that Berlin has spent his adult lifetime writing for popular media, as he melds his examination of the nation with a memoir of his own family. The latter provides context for the former. An example:

I remembered my friend Shirley Katz explaining to me why she quit being a humanities professor. “No amount of education helps to change the mindset of kids who are raised in racist environments,” she told me. It hadn’t really sunk in when she said it, but suddenly I realized she was absolutely correct. None of the re-education that I had received over the twenty-five years since I’d gone back to Canada had touched the core racism I had imbibed during those years when becoming a bona fide Israeli had meant the world to me. Maybe I, and many other Israelis like me, would be better off consulting an exorcist.

Berlin’s family history makes for the perfect example to illustrate the larger tale. His parents were Sabras, part of the original pioneer settlers who fought to carve out the state of Israel. They then packed up and moved to Toronto when David and his brother Daniel were quite young. It was Toronto and its schools that caused Berlin to no longer go by his first name Zafrir, instead substituting his middle name. Not that this was the author’s idea. In the following piece of dialogue, his mother tries to explain to Zafrir why the name change is a good, or at least acceptable idea:

‘To us you will always be Zafi, but David is your second name and it is a perfectly good name. The principal said that the children in your class will find it easier to pronounce. Zafrir is a beautiful name but Canadians can’t pronounce it. Don’t you think that’s a good thing?’

‘No I don’t. And I don’t want to stay in this stupid school or in this stupid country! I want to go home.’

Eventually he does return to Israel, serving a portion of his mandatory military service in Ariel Sharon’s surveillance unit and fighting in the Yom Kippur War of 1973. Of the historical figures who feature in the book, Sharon is the most intriguing. The portrayal is of a man with immense appetites for food and power, garrulous yet devious, at once the master of the ‘long game’ of politics while also willing to shut down the Israeli settlements in Gaza at a whim. It’s not a very flattering portrait.

Then again, Sharon is not alone in being lit by unflattering light in The Moral Lives of Israelis. Rabbis (particularly the one who claims credit for putting Sharon into a coma via a curse), settlers, protesters, mayors, the Israeli army, building contractors and many more all receive a pretty good hiding. I think the only person who gets a good review is Moshe Dayan, who eventually is out-maneuvered by Sharon. But lest the reader of this review jump to a conclusion, Berlin is not a member of that clichéd class, ‘the self-hating Jew.’ He loves his faith, his culture, and Israel. He is just realistic about how those three things do not necessarily work very well together.

That in fact becomes Berlin’s tentative conclusion— for Israel to exist in something approaching a peaceful Middle East, it must become a secular, non-theistic state. Another quote:

Was it not the case that the state with which Neturei Karta (a ‘hyper-Orthodox Jewish community’) would have no problem was in fact the state about which super-seculars like David Ben-Gurion dreamed? Their dream state, in which the public arena would be purged of all things religious, in which religion would be a private matter, was a state the hyper-Orthodox could easily recognize if only because it was like all other modern Western states, none of which made any claims to have overridden the Messiah.

I can only reply, not snidely although it will certainly read that way: Good luck with that. Berlin is absolutely correct, but Jesus will be spotted waterskiing across the Sea of Galilee before Israel ever becomes secular. Once established, states cling desperately to their historic symbols. Hence Britain still has its monarchy, Japan its Emperor, and Spain its siestas although none of those traditions quite make any logical sense to the extra-terrestrial observer. Plus, as Berlin admits, the theistic state makes for a great fund-raising message for overseas support.

But one can never fault a man for trying to confront a massive problem. I was anxious to come to Berlin’s solution, as a solution must be found. And I have no better idea to offer in response. To rework my introduction, I truly feel as though I understand the misunderstanding that is Israel. This is a beautifully written, truly heart-wrenching book. In writing about his family, Berlin (who never referred to his father by any of the variants of what we know as Dad) is more emotionally honest than 99% of the autobiographers I have read. You may (and you should) read thirty or forty books about the Middle East conflict. Start here.