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Opening Up Jewish Eyes
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By Judy Andreas
My position is not an enviable one. I am a daughter of
Jewish parents who grew up with a conventional set of beliefs. Although I
never had the "chosen people" nonsense fed to me, I was conditioned
by certain factors in my childhood. My Jewish education was
paltry at best, perhaps because my sister and I preferred to "sleep
in" rather then to attend Sunday school. And yet, I was given
the usual "there's an anti Semite under every rock"
warning. I had a meal of fear and paranoia served up
with my weekly brisket.
My mother once told me about a woman in the family who had married an
Italian fellow.
"Every time they fought, he called her a kike." I don't
know whether or not it was a true story. I don't know if it was
merely my mother's way of keeping my leash attached to her so that I
would not stray from the clan. After all, she had been tormented as a
child and called a "Christ Killer." I suspect that, on one
level, she was motivated by motherly love. And yet, I believe it was
her "fear" which played a more significant role. Unfortunately for
Mom, "fear" was not a teacher whose class I willingly attended, and as I
grew older, forbidden fruit developed a sweet fragrance.
As my sister and I aged, our rebellious natures emerged. We
experimented with psychedelics and dated all types of
people. I do not believe it was a personal vendetta
against my parents. I do not believe it was an "I'll show you"
statement. It was, I believe, intellectual curiosity and
a need to make my own mistakes that accompanied me along my journey;
and mistakes I made - although I prefer to call them "learning
experiences." In the words of Frank Sinatra (or Paul
Anka) "I did it my way." Religion, parental warnings, government
statements and rules were not blindly accepted. They had to make
sense to me, and they rarely did. I grimaced when some authority
figure told me, "It's true because I say it's true."
My mother was a Zionist who, as she grew older, used
her coloratura soprano voice to sing at fund raisers. She
claimed to be an atheist. My father had been raised in an orthodox
family and opted to become a doctor because he had witnessed the
excruciating death of his mother from esophageal cancer when he was but a
young boy He was truly motivated by the desire to
help. Dad was an old fashioned doctor who made housecalls but
never made a great deal of money. Those who have read my essays know
the details of my past. Since my purpose is not to bore you to tears, I
will resist the urge to describe my upbringing in great detail.
'
Although I was raised on the usual Jewish diet of paranoia, I
found myself extending my circle of friends to all colors and belief
systems. It was the time of the sixties, and since I was a
Greenwich Village hippie, race and religion were never factors in my
friendships. As Martin Luther King said, "It was the content of ones
character" that attracted me.
In those days, I was not a political animal though I
listened attentively as my parents and older sister discussed
politics. When JFK, RFK, MLK and Malcolm X were
assassinated, I tried to silence the "still small voice" within me.
I began a foray into the world of spirituality and clung to my
innocence. However, like a withering branch, it was destined to
snap. And, snap it did.
I found myself in an upside down world in which such horrors as Waco,
the Mena Arkansas drug drops, and the OKC bombing awakened me from my
somnolence. Though I concentrated on spirituality I could no
longer silence my inner voice. Something was deadly wrong on Planet
Earth. I knew that all my meditation and acts of kindness were
not enough. As an inhabitant of three dimensional
reality, I had to find a balance between the mountain top and the valley.
And, though many years have passed, I still strive hungrily for that
balance. Maybe I always will.
On September 11, 2001, my little world was knocked off its axis. I
quickly found myself among a group of 911 truth seekers who could not
accept the government's official fiction of Arab highjackers with boxcutters
flying planes into the World Trade Center. A new chapter of my life
had begun. I wanted to share my beliefs with friends.
I recall the first time I spoke about David Icke to a churchgoing woman
with whom I'd taught.
"But he's a Nazi" she warned me as she sent me a disinformation website. "Have you ever read his writings or seen him speak? I
inquired.
"NO."
Case closed. I realized that my newfound information was not
going to be easily accepted.
Next came my reeducation about the country of Israel. I was
dismayed to learn that it was not the "lone democracy in the Middle East"
anymore than Lee Harvey Oswald was the "lone gunman." who assassinated
John F Kennedy. I was shocked to see the myth of " A
people without a land ...and a land without people" smashed before my
eyes. I was horrified to learn that Israel was a racist,
apartheid state. I was heartbroken as I read about the massacres
and systematic elimination of the Palestinian people, and the twisted
fiction that the history books had placed in front of our eyes and between
our ears. I saw the myth about how Israel had taken desert land
that had been occupied by a nomadic group of savages and turned it into a
productive fertile oasis explode before me. Once again the history
books had become a fiction of the most devastating distortion
proportions.
I read Ralph Schoenman's book The Hidden History of Zionism and
listened to Ralph and his wife Mya Shone's radio show "Taking Aim."
The Israelis had seized the Palestinian people's citrus groves, olive
trees, rock quarries and homes. They had brutalized
the peoples of that area. They had eradicated farmers,
artisans and town dwellers and substituted a work force composed of a settler
population. The history of Palestine was one of unspeakable suffering and
subjugation, armed displacement, massacre and expulsion.
Through Ralph Schoenman, I learned that Rabbi Fishman had presented a map
to the UN's select committee on Palestine based on Theodore Herzel's
diaries. It declared Eretz Israel stretched from the brook of
Egypt to the Euphrates, including all of Palestine, all of Transjordan, Egypt up
to the Nile including Cairo, 2/3 of Syria, 40% of Iraq, the southern tier of
Turkey, up to and encapsulating Kuwait.
The Zionists were awarded 55% of the most fertile
land.
Every major Zionist spokesman talked about eliminating the
Palestinians. It was no secret, though an uncanny amount of people
today do not seem to know about it.
The Kermit report stated "We will use terror, assassination, intimidation,
land confiscation, and cutting off all social services to rid Galilee of its
Arab population."
Moise Dayan talked about how the geography books were
changed. Records of the villages and towns no longer exist.
It was through the Hidden History of Zionism that I first learned
about the Nazi/Zionist collaboration and how the ordinary Jew had been
duped by an unconscionable cabal of greed and power.
Sadly, I might add, the rank and file Jew is still being duped.
I have tried, with my verbal velvet gloves, to speak with friends about
this dire situation. Some are not interested. Some are
afraid. Some think I have lost my mind. Most silence me.
(My compliments to the brainwashers)
And so, I sit in a most unenviable position. I want to open the
eyes of my brothers and sisters. I want to help my children learn of
the sins of Israel and the important role it plays in the axis of evil....along
with the U.S. and Great Britain. I want to alert my loved ones
to the dangers of the Zionist behavior and how it is affecting
our world. I want to wake up the ordinary Jewish person to
the crimes that their leaders have perpetrated and continue to
perpetrate. For, at the end of the day, the rank and file
Jew is as expendable in the Zionists' grand scheme as the rest of the
populace is. There is no safety in tribal banding
together. It is only the truth which can set us free.
And yet, I have not found the vocabulary. Should I give
up? Can I make a difference or am I merely trying to hold back a
boulder?
The other night I watched a television special about Bob Dylan.
I was struck by his youth and the profundity of his words. I
felt myself drowning in a sea of nostalgia. Were those times as
pure as they appeared? Were those times as idealistic
as I remembered? Have I romanticized the hopes
and dreams of the 60's? Perhaps........... but I
doubt it. Of course we were dreamers, but we were dreaming of
a wonderful world. We were dreaming of a world upon which we
felt we could have a great impact. We believed in our
dream. Do we still have vestiges of that dream as 300,000
people demonstrated in Washington, DC on September 24th,
2005?
And yet, as I look out on a world so precariously close to the edge, a
world that appears to be hanging onto that withered branch that I know all too
well, I can only ask "What in God's name has happened to
us? "
Copyright 2005 Judy Andreas
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