Tribalism and Purim

Recently I received a longwinded e-mail that began with a defense and an explanation, of sorts, of nationalism and patriotism.   It wasn’t, at least on the surface, defending the tiki torches, swastika wearing kind of nationalism that immediately comes to mind when you hear the word “nationalism”.  In fact, the e-mail was written by a Jewish man.   The gist was that it is natural for every group to consider their group the smartest, most talented, and generally the best.  As long as one group is not denying anyone else the right to consider themselves the smartest, most talented, and generally the best.  The argument was that nationalism, patriotism, and desire to protect one’s own is the natural order of the world.   From that ensued the argument that pain and suffering of one’s own people hits one much closer than watching the suffering of other groups.   And that any criticism of one’s own group is counterintuitive and generally harmful.   The rest of the e-mail was filled with lots of rage against liberals and is not particularly relevant here.    The premise of this missive really disturbed me.  While on the first read, there was nothing particularly offensive about the idea of people standing with their own and generally considering their own group to be the best without denying anyone else their rights to do the same, at its heart there was really justification of the swastika wearing, tiki torch carrying kind of nationalism.   First of all, the very idea of one group being “the best”, by definition, denies all other groups being equal.  There is only one best (uhm, superior?).   This concept also implies that people’s right to survive and prosper is somehow dependent on them being “the best”, from that it’s not a long leap that if the group is somehow “proven” to not be “the best”, inferior, an argument can be constructed that their rights can be curtailed.   And the concept of everyone should protect “their own” can lead to horrific consequences once we realize that any group could be convinced that another group is posing a threat.  Because, unlike animals (who were, in fact, used in this write up as an example of standing up for their own) who instinctively know who poses a threat, we, humans, can be convinced of something constitutes a threat, at times, with minimal or complete lack of evidence.

This week was also the week of Purim.  Purim is a happy holiday that celebrates the ingenuity and strength of women, especially, Queen Esther who was able to save the Jewish people from slaughter and destruction as a result of an evil plot.  The holiday entails costumes, skits, and drinking (yeah, the happy kind).  It also entails the reading of the Scroll of Esther. It tells the story of how the plot to kill Jews was developed and how Esther thwarted it.  It’s the same text that gets read every year.  This year, I guess, I paid a bit more attention.  The piece that struck me was the argument that Esther’s uncle presents to her when he implores her to get involved. “Do not imagine to yourself that you will escape in the king’s house from among all the Jews. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and rescue will arise for the Jews from elsewhere, and you and your father’s household will perish; and who knows whether at a time like this you will attain the kingdom?”  In simplest terms, the argument was, save all the Jews so you can save yourself.   And this got me thinking, is the only compelling argument for us to act always tied to our benefit?   Can we only relate to our own pain or, at best, to our group’s pain?  Have we evolved since the times of ancient Persia when the Book of Esther takes place? Or are we still in the same fundamental place of only truly feeling compassion when it is for our own?   This is by far, not the first time I’ve gone down the path of this inquiry.   Every time I see celebrities contributing to causes that deal with diseases or other issues after they impacted their families.  These diseases were problematic and causes were just as worthy long before the celebrities came in close contact with them, yet, personal pain is what spurs action and support.  Part of it is plain awareness, but I think a bigger part is inability to feel pain of others without experiencing it firsthand. 

So, the concept of standing up for one’s own and being most reactive to “our” people’s pain can be observed in so many contexts.  But is it or should it continue to be the natural order of things? Order that should be justified and protected?  I am hopeful that we are capable of overcoming these deep rooted and basic impulses. As we travel more, see more, learn more, recognize ourselves more in people we considered as “other”, I am hopeful we will learn to think of everyone as “us” and not “them” and, therefore, deserving of our understanding, compassion, and protection.  But just as overcoming all base instincts, this change requires a lot of work both individual and collective.  I derive a glimmer of hope from the fact that before proceeding with the Purim activities, our Rabbi led the Congregation in reciting mourner’s kaddish for the victims of the Christchurch mosque massacre.  But I am also reminded of resurgence of nationalism all around the world in all its ugly forms and that 70 years after Holocaust I received a write up from a Jewish man exalting the virtues of nationalism.