'We Are Black Jews': The story of Ethiopian Jews and Israel's unfinished journey - review

Her wide-ranging CV includes stints as former CEO of The Public Forum for Youth Villages and Boarding Schools, and former spokesperson and director of communications and public relations at the Welfare and Social Affairs Ministry.

Below are excerpts from both the preface and epilogue of We Are Black Jews.

“Our ancestors, how are you? We have heard of your existence, but the  Sabbath is a barrier preventing us from sailing the sea. Why do none of you come here? All our temples are destroyed. We are waiting for the  Messiah. How many years remain until his arrival?”

How powerful are these words written by Kes (Ethiopian spiritual leader) Abba Yitzhak in 1845, in one of many written testimonies to the vision of the return to Zion held by Beta Israel, the Jews of Ethiopia.

When I first encountered the year 1845 in the context of Ethiopian Jewry, I was struck by the realization that a new world was unfolding before me, much larger than I had known. More than 2,000 years of exile and yearning for Zion suddenly converged into a tangible date, one I could almost touch and feel. A single ancient letter created a complete picture within the puzzle.

It is the story of a powerful community... of strength and courage, of challenges and hardships. It is the story of a community that made history with both feet, a community descended from royalty.

For me, it was further proof of the chain of generations. The long and unique journey of Ethiopian Jews began in biblical times, continued through mountains, hills, valleys, and  picturesque villages, and then moved on to a journey fraught with dangers and hardships to Sudan, and from there finally returned home.

In the 177 years since Kes Abba Yitzhak sent that letter from Ethiopia to the Jews of the Diaspora in Europe, the world has transformed drastically: Kingdoms have risen, borders have been redrawn, wars have sown destruction and ruin, and seeds of peace have sprouted and grown. New technologies have been invented and quickly replaced by others. Societies have advanced and receded. The world has become a small global village, then once again fragmented into interconnected villages linked by a fragile thread that threatens to unravel. Identities have been shed and others adopted, merged, and transformed into something new.

Then, a national home for the Jewish people was established, a home that promised to gather all the exiles from the corners of the world. A home to which my brothers and sisters, my forefathers and foremothers looked toward for over 2,000 years. They prayed, embarked on their heroic journey, and finally gathered at its gates.

Now, after the problems have been presented and the challenges highlighted, after the pain has overflowed, at the end of a journey of forty years in the desert – I have a dream. A dream shared by all of us, all human beings walking this path. A dream that we have the power to fulfill and transform into a better reality.

In my dream, in my vision, we will all be blind to color, deaf to accent, and indifferent to smell. Colors, smells, accents – all cultures – will remain part of us. Yet, instead of distinguishing and separating us, they will blend together in a cauldron. Each will retain its flavor, but together they will form a whole, a Jerusalem greater than the sum of its parts. A united Jerusalem.

In schools, where teachers from diverse cultures teach, students will learn about the history and heritage of all the cultures and Diasporas that form Israel’s unique mosaic. They will experience, smell, feel, and savor the wonderful flavors of stories from Odesa and Addis Ababa, Buenos Aires and Baghdad, New York and Marrakesh, Vienna, Welkait, and Tigray. They will hear songs and melodies in a variety of languages and observe the floating, dancing letters that together create a new, shared language.

These children will receive the best education that the State of Israel has to offer: public, high-quality, equal education. Their place of residence will no longer determine their chances of success or predict their professional future. Each and every one of them will have an equal opportunity to dream, to aspire to wherever they desire – and to achieve.

In the hours after school, children will enjoy activities that embody the value of equality – enrichment programs, community centers, and playgrounds that ensure every child’s right to an aesthetic, safe, and green environment with clean air. In Kiryat Malachi as in Ra’anana, in Jisr az-Zarqa as in Caesarea, in Ma’alot-Tarshiha as in Kokhav Ya’ir, in Kiryat Moshe, Bnei Brak, and Ashkelon.

Later, after completing their studies, these children, now teenagers, will be able to choose how they wish to contribute to society, whether through military or civil service. All options will be open to them. Cultural barriers will be removed, class disparities will be eradicated, and every young person will have the opportunity to fulfill their mission and make a positive impact on the world.

In my dream, the gates of higher education – heavy, tall, and slightly rusty – will open wide, allowing everyone not only to enter but also to feel at home. For Tigist, Mulu, and Genet, Hodaya, Moshe, and Ido, Oksana, and Achmed. There, in the science programs and in the essential humanities enrichment courses, they will determine their own futures. They will be evaluated based on their abilities and knowledge, finding their way in the world according to their personalities, character, and inclinations.

In the job market, in my dream, my brothers and sisters will fill the ranks of managers and directors based on their abilities and aspirations, not their culture or origin. They will have the opportunity to lead, to guide, to determine the nation’s path together with other leaders, up to the state’s centennial and for centuries to come.

In my dream, we will see doctors, engineers, pilots, prime ministers, ministers, professors, and officers whose black skin will be a matter of routine. No more seeing the “first” Ethiopian man or woman. Equal among equals, not identical but united and cohesive.

Hostility will diminish, and alienation will fade. No one will be stopped or detained because of their skin color or language. The understanding that thieves and criminals come in all colors will sink in deeply and effectively eliminate prejudices. Police officers, commanders, commissioners and maybe even a police chief (Why not?) will be dark-skinned people who grew up in Kiryat Malachi and Kiryat Moshe in tough, complex neighborhoods.

These dreams are not fantasies or wishes, distant as the North Star. Like Dr. King Jr.’s famous dream, this is a vision that can be realized. A vision that depends on us, all of us.

The task of repair also falls upon us, the daughters and sons of the Ethiopian community. We will not be passive, nor will we wait for a hand to be extended. We will not sit and wait for change; we will advance it. We will act together, initiate, and walk those thousands of miles ourselves to make history and transform this beautiful country into a better and more inclusive place. We will realize the vision of the prophets, the vision of our ancestors, the vision of Jerusalem.

And I have no doubt, not even the slightest, that with united forces we will succeed in moving mountains and breaking down walls.

It is our responsibility to be proactive. More than that, it is our obligation. Who knows if it was not for this very moment that we came to the Promised Land, fulfilling the long-held dream of returning to Zion – to teach Israeli society a lesson, to lead change, to bring redemption not in its religious sense but in its tangible, physical, existential sense? To increase peace and goodness in the world?

Together, we will build our new identity – Hebrew, national, cultural, and communal – that blends Ethiopian heritage with Israeli culture. An identity of strength, success, power, rich heritage, and extraordinary history. One that takes pride in our origins and the color of our skin but also in being Israelis, equal to everyone else.

Here I am. A woman, Black, Jewish, Israeli – not necessarily in that order. Over the years, I have added new layers of identity, each time placing a new one over the previous, and they have all become intertwined. In each of these identities, there are those who will not like me, who will think they are better than me, who will look down on me. I could choose to wake up every morning and fight with the world, and it seems I have enough reasons to take this complexity and the burden it brings and focus on the negative, on the doors that are closed to me.

But I choose to go out into the world every day with the understanding that my skin color is my X factor. It is an advantage, not a disadvantage.

This is also how I chose to write this book. This is the path I choose to take. This is the journey I have chosen for myself – thousands of miles that at first glance seem like an impassable desert, but mile by mile, the destination gets closer, and there it is on the horizon. Just like the journey of our ancestors in Sudan – it begins with pain and ends in fulfillment.

I won’t lie to myself or to you that this path is simple. It is challenging, difficult, and full of obstacles and barriers, and sometimes there are even unintended hindrances along the way. But this is our journey, our path, and just as we have removed every obstacle, shattered every rock, and made history with our own two feet in the past, we will do so again today. Because we are a story of strength, of a powerful community.

We will look around, recognize the good and wonderful things this land has to offer, and join forces with our brothers and sisters from all backgrounds, cultures, and communities. Together, we will turn this dream into reality.

“For you will go out with joy, and be led forth with peace; the mountains and the hills will break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands” (Isaiah 55:12).■