Editor’s note: Ian Berlin is a member of the Yale Class of 2024 majoring in ethics, politics, and economics. The opinions expressed in this comment are his own. To read more opinion on CNN.
Last week, I sat in Yale University’s Beinecke Plaza leading about 50 classmates in nigunim — wordless melodies from the Hasidic Jewish tradition — and other Jewish songs and prayers. As is typical when I sing niggunim, I went home that day feeling spiritually rejuvenated, but, unlike usual, most of those singing with me that day were not Jewish.
This is because both Jewish and non-Jewish students, inspired by anti-apartheid protests in Beinecke Plaza decades earlier, gathered for a week-long protest to demand that Yale divest the portion of its endowment invested in equity. military contractors, which manufacture the weapons that Israel currently uses in its war with Hamas in Gaza. The students were protesting under the Occupy Beinecke coalition, which includes Yale Jews for Ceasefire, a group of Jewish students dedicated to fighting for a ceasefire in Gaza as well as sustainable peace and equality in the region.
In light of student arrests Monday morning – along with similar arrests in Columbia last week – campus clashes and concerns surrounding anti-Semitism are once again in the news.
I do not deny that there has been a shocking and disturbing rise in anti-Semitism in recent months, including several cases of anti-Semitism at Yale and in New Haven. Last fall, a teacher’s post on X (formerly Twitter) that appeared to praise the Hamas attack on October 7 sparked a petition to have her fired.
I have had countless painful conversations with close friends trying to explain to them how their rhetoric has sometimes minimized the murder and hostage-taking of Israeli Jews and how that language hurts their fellow Jews, including me.
But when people see pro-Palestinian protesters arrested at the same time as President Joe Biden It is others are warning about a surge in anti-Semitism on college campuses, they apply the same tired framework – supposedly anti-Semitic pro-Palestine activists pitted against Jewish pro-Israel activists – to Yale. As a fourth-year Yale student, I find this characterization deeply frustrating, as it could not be further from the truth. At every step, I have found a community of activists and organizers who are eager to listen, ready to learn, and committed to including Jewish voices and perspectives.
For example, as part of the difficult work of building a pluralistic protest environment, the coalition listened to Jewish voices in making collective decisions about what language to use, ultimately agreeing not to lead cries like: “There is only one solution: Revolution.” of the Intifada,” which made some Jewish students feel unsafe. Although this corner was heard on the Yale campus, was neither approved nor initiated by protest organizers as a result of this ongoing dialogue.
Last semester, I lit Hanukkah candles outside Yale President Peter Salovey’s home every night of the holiday, followed by communal singing and prayer until the candles finished burning. We were demanding that Yale call for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza and commit to protecting free speech on campus after Columbia University banned pro-Palestinian student groups. This semester, students gathered weekly on Friday afternoons in Beinecke Plaza, while Jewish classmates led even more singing and prayers in protest of the war in Gaza.
Over the past week, large groups of students from many religions have come together frequently to sing “Mi Shebeirach,” the Jewish prayer for healing, and “Olam Chesed Yibaneh,” which calls for building a world where compassion leads. Last Saturday night, fellow students led those gathered in havdalah, marking the end of Shabbat. And on Monday night, New Haven students and residents collaborated to lead the community in a Passover seder – all on the Yale campus.
These experiences were deeply meaningful to me, not only on a political level, but also on a fundamentally spiritual level. Seeing the Yale protests once again swept up by accusations of anti-Semitism negates this experience and invalidates the Judaism of those calling for an end to the violence in Gaza.
In fact, Yale Jews for Ceasefire exists because of—not in spite of—our Jewish values. On the issue of divestment, for example, the Talmud teaches us that we cannot sell weapons to people we suspect of using them criminally. Therefore, we have a duty to prevent the manufacture and sale of military weapons that kill other people, including those that kill Palestinians.
More than 1 million people in Gaza are on the brink of famine, according to a recent report UN reportand aid workers are still reeling after seven World Central Kitchen workers were killed in an Israeli air strike earlier this month.
On Passover of all holidays, Jews are forced to feel the suffering of oppressed people. We eat bitter herbs to remember the bitterness of slavery in Egypt and dip parsley in salt water to symbolize the tears of our ancestors. The story of oppression is all too familiar to the Jewish people – and it is our duty to combat oppression in all its forms, for Jews and non-Jews alike.
We also teach the Nachshon story, who took the first courageous steps into the stormy Red Sea as the Jewish people fled Egypt. He didn’t know what would happen, but he had faith that he would make it to the other side. By intervening at a precarious moment, he became a leader for his people, convincing them to follow in his footsteps – literally – into the unknown.
Our present moment is precarious for the Jewish people, filled with disagreements about what our Jewish values mean to us. But Nachshon teaches us that when we have the courage to lead, we can encourage others to move forward with us, toward a world free from oppression and violence. At Yale, organizers of all faiths continue to build a community that is dedicated to advancing in collaboration with, not opposition to, Jewish students.
For more news and newsletters from CNN, create an account at CNN.com
