“If you’ve grown up taking [the practice of female genital cutting] for granted as the normal thing to do, you will probably respond at first with surprise to someone who thinks it is wrong. You will offer reasons for doing it — that unmodified sexual organs are unaesthetic; that the ritual gives young people the opportunity to display courage in their transition to adulthood; that you can see their excitement as they go to their ceremony, their pride when they return; you will say that it is very strange that someone who has not been through it should presume to know whether or not sex is pleasurable for you. And, if someone should try to force you to stop from the outside, you may decide to defend the practice as an expression of your cultural identity.”

These words were written by the eminent political philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah (in his book Cosmopolitanism), who immediately continues: “I am not endorsing these claims….” Appiah’s point is that “a large part of what we do we do because it is just what we do.” In other words, it is one’s cultural context that determines judgments and actions and not some elaborate ethical system. If this is true (and there is undoubtedly some truth to it) how do we heed the Talmud’s charge:

All who can protest against [something wrong that] one of their family [is doing] and does not protest, is held accountable for their family.

[All who can protest against something wrong that] a citizen of their city [is doing and does not protest], is held accountable for all citizens of the city.

[All who can protest against something wrong that is being done] in the whole world, is accountable together with all citizens of the world. Bavli Shabbat 54b

Are there criteria by which to tell the difference between an outrage that must be stopped and a cultural practice that should be tolerated?

Female circumcision, or genital mutilation, is a good case in point. Until African feminists challenged the practice (publicly in 1984), many viewed Western outrage as an example of cultural imperialism — especially since male circumcision was not being disputed. When African women began speaking out against the practice, they made clear that genital mutilation had victims.

It seems to me that when there are victims — even if there are ways to rationalize the victimization within a culture — there is an obligation to intervene.

The first principle regarding intervention, then, is that there are identifiable victims. A second principle would be some form of what Immanuel Kant called universalizability. Are we critiquing a practice because it seems odd when someone else does it although it seems okay when we do it? Are we ready to apply that same critique to our own behavior? Can we differentiate male circumcision from female genital mutilation? Can we distinguish Santeria sacrifices from shechitah without a culturally-bound (i.e., halakhic or aesthetic) rationale?

At the end of the day, we must speak out against injustice wherever it is happening. At the same time we have to be self-critical about why we are choosing certain injustices. The International Crisis Group lists in alphabetical order 83 crisis situations around the world that it monitors. When we get to “s” in the list we find Sudan together with other “s” crisis-countries such as Sri Lanka and Sierra Leone. Why is it that Darfur in Sudan has become a rallying point for activism while most of the same people have not heard of either Sri Lanka (the government is accused of extra-judicial killings, the rebels of suicide bombings) or Sierra Leone (on the verge of destabilization and possible civil war)? During the Cold War, the United States overlooked the human rights abuses of Western-aligned dictators while being very vigilant in pursuing human rights abuses in Communist countries.

On Erev Rosh Hashana in 1982, the Christian Phalangist militia entered Sabra and Shatila, two Palestinian refugee camps and indiscriminately slaughtered hundreds of Palestinians. The Israeli commission of inquiry found that Israeli troops under direct commands from Ariel Sharon had surrounded the camps and offered logistical support. Public opinion was divided between those who were appalled that the IDF was implicated and those who thought that since the IDF didn’t do any direct killing the responsibility was all on the Phalangist militia. When interviewed by Israeli Radio, the head of my yeshivah said, “The first line of the Avinu Malkenu prayer is ‘Our father, our king we have sinned before You.’” What I have always taken from this verse is that the prerequisite for intervening when someone else is silent is clean hands.

After Cambodia, Bosnia, Rwanda, Kosovo, South Sudan, and now Darfur, our lives could make a mockery of the sentiment often heard in the Jewish world, “never again.” Darfur is Rwanda in slow motion. For those of us who wondered   what we were doing when 800,000 were slaughtered in 100 days, we now have a chance to respond. Today, we are in the midst of another genocide — the first to be labeled as such while it was occuring — and this one into its fifth year.

After the U.S. government named Darfur a genocide in 2004 but did nothing, a grassroots movement emerged with strong roots in the Jewish and other faith communities as well as in secular organizations. The Jewish community has responded across denominational lines — in synagogues and schools, at Holocaust memorials and interfaith services, in b’nai mitzvah celebrations, and at camps.

Jews are involved for many reasons but primarily because the violence in Darfur is genocide, and Jews know very well the dangers that occur when the international community remains silent in the face of genocide. There are undoubtedly some Jews involved because the Sudanese government and its Janjaweed militia are fundamentalist Muslims, intent on Arabizing a wide swath of Central Africa. Others may be involved because action on behalf of the Darfuri seems more clear-cut than making sense of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and figuring out what to do in the Middle East.

But most Jews are responding because they want to speak out against such horrors. As the anti-genocide movement continues to grow, the American Jewish World Service has disseminated materials, supported local activities, raised funds, and made it easy for people to act via its website — to write their elected officials, to urge pension-fund divestment from the Sudan-China oil trade, to attend D.C.

rallies, and to get involved in local efforts. It has raised over $5 million for humanitarian aid for pumps, latrines, food, teachers, health clinics, and medical supplies, and has been central to the building of a large interfaith movement, the Save Darfur Coalition. Born in July 2004, at a meeting convened by AJWS and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, the Coalition has grown immensely; it now represents more than 180 groups and supports activism in American, European, and African communities against the Darfur genocide.

While some Jewish activists have asked AJWS if it is only Jews who care, and Sudan President Omar al-Bashir has said that a Jewish conspiracy is inventing the genocide story, the facts are otherwise. Anti-genocide voices include Catholic bishops, the National Association of Evangelicals, the National Council of Churches, student activists on campuses throughout the United States, and national leaders and opinion makers, especially the new president of France and the prime minister of Great Britain. What is immensely gratifying is that as the movement has grown, Jews continue to respond. We are visible as we ought to be, determined that the world not stand idly by.

There is much more to do. In nineteen states activism has led to divestment of state pension funds from the large multinational companies that sell Sudanese oil to China, thus giving Sudan money to buy armaments from China and Russia. Similar legislation is pending in other states, waiting for citizen activism to move legislators. A major effort has been launched to spotlight China’s support for Sudan and demand that she instead use her relationship to insist that a robust, multilateral peacekeeping force be admitted into Darfur. The fact that China will host the 2008 Olympics is leverage to shame her into acting against this genocide.

In Darfur, today, there are still daily attacks on farmers and their villages. Government planes still drop bombs and a militia still rape women, kill children, and displace people from their homes. An estimated 450,000 are dead, more than 2.5 million displaced, 4.2 million in need of food. We, who know the danger of doing nothing, cannot retreat to the convenience of being overwhelmed. As long as the genocide continues we must step up our individual activism, demand that our congregations and organizations do more, be sure that when our grandchildren ask us what we did to stop the genocide in Darfur, we each have an answer.

[Editor's Note: The number of Sudanese deaths differs among the contributors; because of the chaos and confusion on the ground, it is difficult to ascertain exact numbers — certainly several hundred thousand.]

In July, the Israeli government announced that it would arrest and deport hundreds of Sudanese refugees who had snuck into Israel and camped outside the Knesset to seek protection. When my daughter Aliza and two of her friends from Kibbutz Ketura heard about this, they hopped on an Egged bus to attend a rally spontaneously organized in support of the Sudanese. To her surprise, instead of finding hundreds of Sudanese there were only a handful. In advance of the police’s arrival, Israeli families had swooped in and whisked refugees into their homes. This is the whole story in a nutshell: It is a conflict between the instincts and moral obligations of the Jewish people and the security-fearful instincts of the state.

Over the past two years, roughly 1,500 Sudanese refugees paid Bedouin smugglers to slip them under the fence along the Sinai-Negev border. Almost every person tells the same tale: running away from the genocides of Darfur or southern Sudan, seeking refugee status in Egypt, getting the cold shoulder from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, fear and often violence against them in Egypt, and then a fateful decision for these Muslims and Christians from an enemy state to seek refuge in the Jewish state.

Recently there was a terrible incident at the border. Four Sudanese refugees on the Egyptian side of the border fence were trying to flee the Egyptian military. One of the refugees managed to get part of his body under the fence. The Egyptian soldiers pulled at his legs while an Israeli soldier held on tight to his arm, in a tug of war. The Egyptians pointed their guns through the fence at the IDF soldier, who let go in fear for his life. The poor Sudanese was dragged back, beaten to death, along with three others, in front of the Israeli soldiers. We know something about running away from Egypt, yet Prime Minister Ehud Olmert has started deporting new arrivals in Israel back over the border and asked that the Egyptian military be vigilant.

In 1977 Menachem Begin, no bleeding heart softie, took in several hundred Vietnamese boat people in a Jewish and humanitarian act. Granted, Vietnamese do not come from a hostile Muslim state with al-Qaeda training camps. But Begin’s point was not only to save several hundred people. It was to challenge the civilized world to do their part and for the Jewish people not to lose our souls and values watching refugees suffer.

In 1951, the newly formed Jewish state actually authored the key provision of the International Convention on Refugee Rights that grants automatic refugee protection and status to people fleeing oppressive regimes, including enemy states. Yet Israel has been living in violation of her international obligations by arresting and deporting the Sudanese when they cross the border. Even after the Israeli office of the UNHCR screens and certifies the refugee status of each person caught, Israel seeks their arrest and deportation, or, at the very least, denies them legal status.

The Arava valley today is home to several hundred Sudanese refugees, who, instead of remaining in prison, have now been placed in kibbutzim and in Eilat. This positive development came about through a combination of tenacious legal work by the Tel Aviv University Law School Refugee Rights Clinic and the Hotline for Migrant Workers, along with a quiet campaign by many American Jewish organizations and leaders.

American Jewry has led the way in bringing the issue of Darfur to the forefront in the United States. Yet a key mistake was made: distinguishing the genocide in Darfur, which has claimed at least 200,000 lives, from the genocide in the south, which claimed 1.5 million lives. American Jewish leaders were correct to focus in the United States on Darfur, the genocide happening as you read this, but did not switch gears to advocate also for the Christian refugees from Sudan’s south when speaking to Israeli leaders.

Because of this, Israel is likely to allow only several hundred refugees from Darfur to stay in the country but deport the rest, who have also suffered greatly. The western nations that have condemned the genocide in Sudan should take in their fair share of refugees and all of them should pressure the UNHCR in Cairo to process refugees and provide for them.

In June, our kibbutz voted to take in two Sudanese refugee families from Darfur, who now live next door to us. For the first time in many years, they are not living in fear. Our children play together and they are learning Hebrew. Our kibbutz home happens to be on the path that the Israelites took on their way to the Promised Land. Moses walked in these sands. The Torah reminds us 36 times to remember that we were strangers in the land of Egypt. We are no longer the strangers. While the State of Israel continues to demonstrate incompetence or cruelty in dealing with the Sudanese refugees, the people of Israel defiantly live in the shadow of the Exodus with our new neighbors.

Most thoughtful, knowledgeable people believe that in the face of genocide, there are limits to business as usual. Who would have supported the idea of investing in companies that sought to make a profit by selling Zyklon-B gas to the Nazis or machetes for the genocide in Rwanda? Though stories continue to surface about companies that profited doing business with the Third Reich, we assure ourselves that this problem is behind us. IBM sold and maintained technology that let the Nazis keep track of Jews and plunder; GM had a booming business with Opel providing vehicles to the Nazis; Swiss banks aided in seizing Jewish assets. Today, however, we consider these business practices a tragic aberration from a distant and dark past. We assume that only some fringe or outlaw company would seek to profit from genocide.

The United Nations General Assembly adopted the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in December 1948. One hundred and thirty seven nations have adopted the Convention, including the United States in 1988. In September 2005, United Nations members voted unanimously to accept the responsibility to protect populations from genocide, ethnic cleansing, war crimes, and crimes against humanity, pledging to take action through the Security Council when national authorities fail. These formal international agreements, coupled with the experience of the horrors of the twentieth century, support our belief that, when it comes to genocide, we recognize the immorality of collusion, the danger of silence, and the consequences of indifference, and accept the responsibility to protect the most vulnerable from the very worst crimes against humanity. But the reality of the 21st century is that neither the U.N. nor the United States have taken decisive action to fulfill the responsibility to protect the people of Darfur, and China has been blocking effective action by the U.N. Security Council.

The government of Sudan continues to pursue genocide in Darfur. Sudan’s oil industry is that government’s main source of income, and Sudan uses 70 to 80 percent of its oil-related revenue to arm and fund the military and the Janjaweed militia. Oil revenue funds the genocide; it does not economically benefit the poor people of Sudan.

Sudan relies on foreign companies as partners in its oil industry. Its largest partner is CNPC, a Chinese government-owned oil company that raises capital by selling shares of its closely related subsidiary, PetroChina. Other major partners include Sinopec (China), ONGC (India), and Petronas (Malaysia). These four oil companies are the worst offenders, funding the genocide in Darfur.

Financial institutions such as Fidelity Investments, Berkshire Hathaway, Franklin Templeton, American Funds, and Vanguard are major investors in these oil companies. As a result, when ordinary investors — like me and you — entrust our family savings and pension plans to these financial institutions, we may be inadvertently investing in genocide.

When confronted with the problem of investing in genocide, Fidelity responds with scripted comments, noteworthy for their cold detachment:

·“Fidelity portfolio managers make their investment decisions based on business and financial considerations, and take into account other issues only if they materially impact these considerations or conflict with applicable legal standards.”

·“We believe the resolution of complex social and political issues must be left to the appropriate authorities of the world that have the responsibility, and capability, to address important matters of this type. And we would sincerely hope that they would do so wisely on behalf of all of the citizens of the globe.”

For Fidelity, no human rights problems are to be considered in their investment decisions, not even when they impact some of the worst mass atrocities and most egregious violations of human rights on the planet. Unfortunately, Fidelity’s responses reflect the position of many major investment firms. Confronted with the specter of investing in genocide, many firms ignore the moral issues. No ethical guidelines regulate the investment choices of the largest mutual fund companies or their investment managers.

In faraway Darfur, every day is beset by a horrible madness of genocide and atrocities. Here in America, it is a different type of madness that allows many of the best- known and most respected financial institutions to operate as if it were “okay” to invest in genocide.

Individuals can help make the slogan “never again!” real by insisting that in the face of genocide, there are limits to “business as usual.” As a Fidelity customer, I was shocked to discover that we had entrusted our family’s savings to a firm that was investing in companies helping to fund genocide. Now, more than 150,000 people have objected to Fidelity and other institutions that invest in companies that fund the genocide in Darfur.

Please speak out. These investment firms care about their public image. Tell your mutual fund or investment company that you will not do business with them unless they divest. If even larger numbers of citizens and customers insist on genocide-free investments, that message will be heard, not only by the investment firms, but also by the oil companies funding Khartoum and by the government of Sudan.

After all, in the face of genocide, each of us has a responsibility to act.

The three activists spoke with Rabbi Or Rose, Associate Dean and Director of Informal Education at the Rabbinical School of Hebrew College. He is a co-editor of Righteous Indignation: A Jewish Call for Justice and God in All Moments: Mystical & Practical Wisdom from the Hasidic Masters. Or Rose is a member of the editorial board of Sh’ma .

Or Rose: In a world that is so broken, in a world with so much pain and suffering from environmental degradation, illness, and poverty, how did you decide to become a Darfur activist?

Harold Schulweis: During the Holocaust we constantly asked, where are the priests, the pastors, where is the church, where is the Pope? I didn’t want my children or grandchildren to ask the same question — after Rwanda and Chad and Darfur — where were the rabbis and where were the synagogues? “Never again” did not mean never again would Jews be persecuted, but “never again” meant that no ethnic group, no religious group, no racial group would ever again be abandoned as my people had been abandoned. This message has reinvigorated our youth. They have been involved in rallies, protests, marches, and raising money.

Gloria White-Hammond: I’d not planned to become a Darfur activist. My activism is rooted in my ongoing understanding of being called to a bi-directional commitment to God and to one another. I have always had a particular commitment to people of African descent, since that is where I come from. I’ve worked in a number of countries in Africa doing medical mission projects over the years. I became involved in Sudan out of my interest in the impact of slavery as a byproduct of the genocide in southern Sudan, and began working with women’s groups in southern Sudan even before Darfur erupted. I began advocating for Darfur at the behest of women in southern Sudan who understood that they could not know true peace until the people in Darfur also knew peace.

Rose: Are there particular teachings from your religious tradition that inspire your activism?

Schulweis: Oddly enough, I’ll share something from a secular philosopher, Bertrand Russell. He said that the mark of a civilized man or woman is to be able to add up a column of figures and cry. And I think we know a great deal; we know the math, and we can’t use the excuse that we haven’t heard about Darfur; we know what’s happened. And it seems to me that the very essence of faith in general, our faith, is compassion, which means the ability to suffer with an individual.

One verse that moves me is Abraham’s challenge to God before Sodom and Gomorrah. Sodom and Gomorrah are not made up of Jewish citizens and when God apparently decides to destroy them the cry of Abraham resonates throughout the prophetic tradition, “Shall the judge of all the earth not do justly?”

White-Hammond: In the New Testament, the parable of the Good Samaritan teaches that there was a man who was beaten and left by the side of the road; several people passed by, until finally the Good Samaritan passed by and responded. He provided for the man’s shelter and nursed him back to health. Jesus challenges each one of us to be like the Good Samaritan.

Jana El Horr: I see myself more as a secular rather than a religious leader, but I’ll share something from my Arabic culture: “Being silent is something that’s status quo.” So if we are silent about the violence or genocide, it implies that we are accepting the atrocities.

Schulweis: Darfur activism is a bridge between the secular and religious. We don’t need to know what one “believes” but rather what one does.

Rose: How do you understand the relationship between humanitarian efforts and political advocacy in the Darfur movement?

White-Hammond: I understand from a pragmatic point of view why humanitarian groups have been loathe to become involved in the human rights advocacy work. Nowhere is that caution better understood than on the ground in Darfur where the humanitarian groups are regularly harassed by government representatives. Humanitarian workers know that opposing the government would be dangerous for their people on the ground. But if they can’t say it, we must be vigorous in our human rights support. When I first became involved in Sudan I was more involved with humanitarian aid, but I felt like I was using a bucket to collect water from a dripping faucet. Though commendable, at some point it only made sense to get right to the faucet and turn it off. We need a two-pronged approach.

El Horr: When we started working on the issue of Darfur we realized that there was a gap, a disconnect, between the advocacy group and the humanitarian workers. We started a group in D.C. called The Darfur Interfaith Network, which does advocacy and also raises money for humanitarian agencies working on the ground in Darfur. We’re sponsoring a concert in October of African music, with Darfurian poets and storytellers.

Rose: Some of the most impressive activists in this anti-genocide movement are teenagers and young adults. Why do you think this particular issue has captured the imagination of youth around the country?

Schulweis: Today’s youth craves idealism and they’re not getting it. Their schools emphasize knowledge, education, quotational Judaism, and ritual. Though important, this isn’t clearly connected with idealism. Second, our teens are more skeptical than we adults about phrases such as tikkun olam, “repairing the world.” They want to know if we mean the world.

This year is the 92nd anniversary of the Armenian genocide, which was not acknowledged by most of us. If we really mean that we want to repair the world, we need to acknowledge others’ suffering. This also strengthens our collective voice.

White-Hammond: This is the generation that has lived through Rwanda. They may not even remember Bosnia so much, but they’ve seen the movie, Hotel Rwanda, and they’re meeting Rwandans. Genocide is a live issue, and there is a growing interest in all things African. Our young people think globally; Australia is in our backyard and China is the next street over. It’s a confluence of issues that have made Darfur important. And young people know they can do something about it. And the prophetic voice that people of faith bring to this, makes it clear that God will stop this genocide, but it will require a communal effort, a global community coming together. This will change a well established paradigm in history and make a difference.

El Horr: Today, the Internet is playing a very important role — especially with the youth. Blogging and FaceBook help young people integrate current political issues into their lives. Technology is making the young generation more aware of what’s going on in the world and it’s making them feel that the world is smaller. Through blogging on various activists’ websites over the past couple of months, the AIC organized many events in different Arab countries on the genocide in Darfur.

Schulweis: Jana, do you think it’s possible for Islamic, Jewish, and Christian youth, who are not going to talk about their local issues — the Palestinians, the Israelis, and Hezbollah — to use Darfur as an illustration of the capacity of religion to heal and not just to do war?

El Horr: We have a big network of human rights activists in the Middle East who are interested in Darfur and we would like to link them with activists from other faiths. They could focus on Darfur as a point of unity, defending human rights and calling for an end to this violence.

White-Hammond: I’d like to challenge the African American Church to make the intervention for African people today that was not made for our ancestors 400 years ago. After I returned from Sudan in November, I spoke to the Greater Boston’s Black Ministerial Alliance about the crisis. They were concerned about the perilous situation of camps in both Darfur and Chad, about the hospitals not having adequate supplies, the people not having food and shelter. The Alliance set out to raise $15,000 and eventually raised $50,000. Though the amount of money is significant, what’s more significant is the willingness of African American congregations to express their tangible support for the people of Sudan.

African countries have a critical role to play in influencing and putting pressure on both Sudan and China to do the right thing by their brethren in Sudan. But here, African Americans have a unique opportunity to serve as a bridge to the people of those 53 African countries. I challenge people to be active on three levels. First, locally, if all you do is vote. Second, African Americans need to have a national agenda — Katrina. And third, we need a global agenda and that immediately takes us to Africa. There’s no issue more critical than the situation in Sudan.

Rose: There are some people within the Darfur movement who say the Jewish community is too visible in this struggle. What do you think about this claim?

Schulweis: There’s nothing more drastic than an invisible community. The responsibility rests with the leadership. We must overcome the notion that the Holocaust, as a genocide, is privatized. It’s my genocide, it’s my Holocaust. We can’t make comparisons between yours and mine. The Talmud puts it very clearly when it says you cannot kill another individual: “Because your blood is not redder than his.” We are beginning to recognize the interdependence of our lives, transcend our provincialism and parochialism. And that’s why all of us pray in one form or another, “Bless us our Lord, our God king of the universe,” and not the king of one particular place.

White-Hammond: Not only could you not get a minyan, you couldn’t even get a church service in Darfur. Nevertheless, we need to challenge all faith groups to step up with the same kind of passion, intensity, and enthusiasm as our Jewish friends.

El Horr: I was waiting for the question about why there’s been a lack of Muslim and Arab involvement in this issue. We need to empower Arabs to speak against this genocide and violence. Right now we’re feeling ashamed that our own people are not speaking against these atrocities. The AIC has put together a speakers’ bureau called the Arab and Muslim Voices for Darfur to contact student bodies around the country to build a stronger Muslim and Arab voice against this genocide. Our conferences train activists and journalists about the principles of human rights education and nonviolent activism. We’re putting together a Darfur blog so they can find online activism and share their experiences. We’ve started the “Light the Candle online for Darfur,” campaign where one can light a candle online and the person’s name will appear on a candle on a map that shows Darfur activism is spreading around the world. We started the candle campaign because one of our activists — an Iraqi who is affected by the violence in Iraq every single day — bemoaned that although violence is a part of his daily life, he didn’t want to be detached from other violence around the world.

Rose: Jana, you are speaking with us from Beirut. How have people there responded to your work on Darfur?

El Horr: I’m currently in Lebanon trying to network with civil society here in order to have a stronger presence in Arab countries, trying also to talk to human rights organizations about our work in Darfur. But I haven’t had a good response because everybody’s main concern was the Lebanese crisis. And whenever somebody tells me, “we have a lot of problems in Lebanon. We cannot deal with Darfur now,” I tell them the story about the Iraqi who has so much empathy, so much will, so much love, so much compassion for others that we must learn from his experience how to be an aware citizen.