Zionist Bingo Card

It's not often one of my kids tells me I'm right. So when it happens it's a big deal.

Today was one of those days.

My daughter has just returned from two months of visiting my family in Sweden and exploring a bit of Europe.

The first thing she wanted to tell me was about a man she met in an Edinburgh backpacker's hotel.

He was flirting with her while playing table tennis and she asked him where he's from. Turns out he was visiting from Israel after finishing his medical degree.

My daughter told him that I'm also Israeli and immigrated there as a kid from Sweden.

"Oh, it's so good to meet someone who understands! Everyone else hates Israel."

My daughter explained that eventhough I'm Israeli, I'm opposed to the genocide, and so is she.

"So let me guess, you don't believe the Holocaust happened?"

My daughter was taken aback at his assumption and explained to him that what happened to millions of people during the Holocaust was horrible and no one deserves to be oppressed because of their heritage and identity.

Maybe it was her compassionate response, or the hope of changing her mind, that made the man continue the conversation.

What followed was shocking to my daughter.

"Mum, it was EXACTLY what you post about!! He literally ticked every box of the Zionist script."

I had to laugh. Up until now she's only read about these interactions online and never had an opportunity to experience one for herself in real life.

My daughter who is studying to be a teacher, couldn't resist asking him how he's able to look at what's happening in Gaza as a doctor and not be horrified at the injuries and the thousands of people who have been killed.

"Where are you getting your information? The numbers are not real."

My daughter then asked him about doctors and journalists being deliberatey targeted. Something he apparently didn't know about. So she asked him about the time the hospital was double tapped. So that the first responders that rushed in to help the victims were killed as well. Again, the man said he had never heard about it and suggested that she was getting her information from unreliable sources. He clearly hasn't met a twenty year old Australian chick before. Within seconds she had multiple sources saying the same thing on her phone to show him.

She went on to tell me that she spoke to him exactly how she speaks to the children at her teaching placements.

"It's all about scaffolding. Setting the scene and then slowly building up the context to reach the intended outcome."

As she explained how she handled her first one on one with a Zionist, I watched my twenty year old daughter with awe. At her age I was at my peak as a Zionist. I had just completed my two years in the Israeli Airforce and was about to move to Australia to study. If anyone challenged my beliefs I always had an answer. The difference between me as a twenty year old, and my daughter, is that she has a tool kit full of rational skills. Logic, critical thinking and the ability to include objective evidence have been honed over the years.

For me, Zionism was more of a vibe. A feeling. A "truth" that had to be experienced.

Who needs logical reasoning when you deeply know that you are part of the chosen people and you have God on your side?

The Israeli man even attempted to use the Bible as proof why the land belongs to the Jews...but he caught himself mid-sentence.

By now he had disclosed to my daughter that he was married and had two young children waiting at home while he celebrated finishing his medical degree.

"So as a father, how can you see what's happening to the kids in Gaza and not do everything you can to stop the genocide?"

His response left my daughter speechless.

According to him, he only feels bad for anyone who is younger than twelve. Older than that, they are complicit.

"You know everyone is Hamas, yes? And you probably believe that we have an apartheid too. You know, I have many Arab friends."

"Do you mean Palestinian?"

The man went on to explain that there is no such thing as a Palestinian or Palestine. It's all made up. And there are so many countries for the Arabs to go to if they want. And there are lots of Arabs who get to enjoy all the same things as Israelis and they even have Arab politicians.

"How can you call that apartheid?"

Again my daughter used her googling skills to show this doctor that his "facts" were incorrect. He conceded that maybe the Arabs don't have exactly the same rights as him, but it's not so bad for them.

"But you need to know, us Jews want peace. The Arabs raise their children to hate us. They only care about land, and will sacrifice their own family for it."

Hearing this blatant lie being spoken out loud in real life made my daughter's head spin. One of the teachers at her last placement was a Palestinian mother. They would talk while the children played outside. And then my daughter would supervise as the three year olds had their nap time. And their sleeping bodies on the floor would remind her of the photos she was seeing on her phone from Gaza.

"I know that every parent wants the same thing for their child. They want them to be safe. To grow up healthy. To finish school. To get a job. They want their children to live."

The Israeli man nodded. This was the first time he didn't have a response.

I asked my daughter how it felt to meet someone who was so outspoken and proud about their racism and complete disregard for life. It's not something you often encounter here in Melbourne. For my daughter it was the fact that he was a doctor that shocked her the most. How could he have made a doctor's creed and at the same time turn a blind eye to anyone over the age of twelve being maimed or killed if they didn't belong to the same people group as him?

Our conversation drifted into the rest of the trip and how much my daughter loved experiencing Sweden during the winter. She had felt a longing to have rituals and traditions that she never got to experience growing up in Australia. The short, dark days were a perfect setting for candles and paper stars in almost every window.

She told me how from now on she wants to celebrate Saint Lucia, and light advent candles leading up to Christmas. Not because of what it means, but because of the feeling of belonging to something.

After I suggested that she might want to start going along to the Swedish Church here in Melbourne where they celebrate all the Nordic traditions and rituals, I asked my daughter:

"Do you see now how culture and religion are almost impossible to seperate? That just because someone repeats the rituals from their country of origin, doesn't make them religious. It's more about feeling a connection and a sense of belonging to others who share a similar story."

"Yes mum, I know."