A Seder's Modern Lessons

I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce to non-Jews a crucial part of the Passover seder. Midway through the reading of the Haggadah, before the Passover meals is served, the participants raise their glasses and recite a passage that begins, "In every generation someone rises to destroy us..."

The truth of this statement cannot be exaggerated. We can trace its reflection back to ancient figures such as Laban and Haman, or instead contemplate more recent oppressors such as Queen Isabella of Spain, Catherine the Great of Russia and Adolf Hitler.

Unfortunately, we can also see the reflection in today's post-Holocaust society. In his speech on April 6, National Anti Defamation League Director Abraham H. Foxman cited growing Anti-Semitism in this country and abroad. Particularly disturbing was a 1991 poll that found 31 percent of Americans thought American Jews "too powerful, too successful or too influential."

That's a shocking statistic--almost one-third of the nation believes Jews to have exceeded the bounds of their place in society. To those 31 percent, what is that place? that of a downtrodden minority, doomed to suffering and discrimination?

One of this country's guiding principles is that no one can be "too successful." It's as though those approximately 80 million Americans would prefer that Jews discard prospects for higher education and career advancement. Throughout history, Jews have been seen as " too powerful," thought an inherently base race.

That last word rings particularly foul. Jews are not inherently a race; they are adherents to a common religion. Much of Nazi propaganda against Jews--some of which has resurfaced now in European and American anti-Semitic Publications--painted Jews as an inferior race, when what truly distinguishes them is religion. Such propaganda becomes especially irrational when one asks how an 'inferior race' can be behind massive conspiracies to control major industries such as entertainment and banking.

In a nation that prizes its 'Protestant work ethic,' it's hard to believe that a religiously-delineated people that has also accomplished much through hard work fails to enjoy similar stature. When one considers the immense hardships that confronted Jews over the past century (and longer), their successes are still more incredible. Protestants haven't suffered a massacre of one-third of their sect, or complete eradication from civil society in most of Europe.

When sitting around the seder table, I wonder if the suffering will ever stop. As a child in elementary school, I endured my share of Jeers and jibes--most, no doubt, ingrained by my peers' parents. Zionism, the movement for a Jewish state, sought to avoid these goals by setting up a friendly and uniform society of Jews.

But even in Israel, suffering continues. I often ask myself what would have happened if Jews had been allowed to create a state in a peaceful part of Western Europe--Let's say that a solely Jewish holy land existed there--rather than the volatile hotbed of militarism and religious fundamentalism that is the Middle East. Could a people that only knew suffering come to grips with a peaceful, non-antagonistic atmosphere? Would Jews work as hard if not constantly confronted by adversity?

The question points to a unfortunate cycle. Oppressed for so many generations, Jews might strive to achieve as a reaction, not as a psychological imperative. Would Jews in a non-threatening environment become complacent? Some would argue that many in the Diaspora (Jews settled outside Israel) already have.

A particular yardstick of this phenomenon is remembrance and commemoration of the Holocaust. Why dwell on suffering, including in the seder? The answer is simple--it reminds us of what can happen, and alerts us to the plight of others in similar situations. But we many never know completely how Jews would act in the absence of suffering--society has never allowed us to try this experiment.

Daniel Altman's column appears on alternate Mondays.