Tu Bishvat – Tending the Trees of All
I fondly recall in elementary day school the annual collecting of coins from around the home in order to purchase the many tiny green leaf stickers that would fill the designated spaces on a JNF tree certificate, indicating that I had succeeded in planting a tree somewhere in Israel. It was with immense pride, as instructed, that I had taken part in the Jewish endeavour of reforesting barren land and making the Zionist dream and reality a green one.
During those same years, my parents purchased a piece of land on Lake of Bays, and I remember the incredibly tangible joy of occasionally finding an appropriately sized sapling of my favoured pine and transplanting it to the area around the cottage, overly deciduous-rich. I felt I had a sense of what it would be to plant one of those incrementally purchased trees in the soil of the Holy Land. Of course, I had many opportunities in later years to experience the delight and fulfilment of planting saplings in Israel.
We all have come to understand that the planting of trees is more than environmentally motivated. Particularly, but not only in Israel, this policy has been informed by political and security considerations. While this is not the place to explore the rationale and effectiveness of those policies over the past century, it is incumbent upon us to be aware of the effects and implications of both the types of trees selected for planting, as well as the location of those groves and forests, to which we gladly and proudly add our names as donors.
When those forests burn, whether by natural or human cause, we are pained at the loss, and angered by the latter. The intentional destruction is an affront to all, and we garner resources to replant and restore. We should be no less indignant when any trees are destroyed, whether by burning or uprooting. This should include those not planted by Zionist hands, but by others in past or recent generations, who derive sustenance and pleasure from their arborous enterprise no less than we. I refer specifically to those “Mitnachalim” – settlers/colonizers - zealously guided by religious and biblical motivations, chopping down, tearing out, or burning olive trees in a clear territorial claim seeking displacement. Occasionally, even Israeli authorities have been involved in such acts, claiming that the trees were illegally planted on state lands.
A recent online title, not related to this issue - “Tending the Uprooted Tree of Israel” - might offer some direction. While we should continue to celebrate our connection to both land and nature on Tu Bishvat, recognizing this as one of four new years in our unique calendar, we must also recognize the legitimacy and relevance of those values expressed by ‘others’. It is not only our gardens and uprooted trees which require and demand tending.
Tu Bishvat Samei’akh! Shabbat Shalom.
Michael
mrubin@bethdavid.com
