IndyBar: President’s Message

Being president of the Indianapolis Bar Association provides me with the privilege of writing a column in Indiana Lawyer. Typically, this space is reserved to discuss events with the association and issues impacting lawyers in our community, but today I am using it to get personal. I am an extrovert and most of my life is an open book, but there is one topic in my life I was raised to be cautious to speak about, and that is my faith. I am Jewish. Throughout my legal career, my professional life and my religious life have existed side by side but have rarely intertwined. While my faith guides and informs my actions, it is not something I discuss in court, at bar association events or even with my closest lawyer friends. Since Oct. 7, when Hamas attacked Israel, my professional life and my personal life have commingled in ways I could not have imagined, resulting in my desire to write this column.

In my role as president of IndyBar, there have been many who have reached out to me asking the association to release a statement condemning Hamas’ actions in Israel and the violation of international laws. Just as many lawyers have reached out to make sure that IndyBar does not weigh in on this conflict because there are differing viewpoints on the history of and solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Most recently, I have been taken to task by several of my fellow Jewish attorneys for not using my position as president of this association to publicly condemn the actions of Hamas as a violation of societal norm, rules of war and basic notions of humanity. Some expressed concern that by not taking a stance on this issue, it could be argued that there is a contrary position to take — one which supports the actions of Hamas. One person went so far as to express publicly that if I do not speak out for the Jews, I would not hide the Jews when they come for us. I have held as many positions of leadership in the Jewish community as I have held within the legal community, and this situation has been gut-wrenching for me.

First, it should be noted that IndyBar has a standing policy on media statements that only allows the association to comment on events within our own community and that:

1. Ensure fair access to and administration of justice.

2. Foster and maintain confidence in the orderly processes of our courts among the citizens of this state and nation.

3. Facilitate consistent administration of justice and uphold the rule of law.

4. Support and defend the laws and Constitution of both the United States and the State of Indiana consistent with the decisions of our courts.

5. Foster and maintain public confidence in the integrity of the legal profession.

I believe the policy of our association is a good one. Our association is not a social advocacy group; our members have diverse backgrounds, viewpoints and opinions, and supporting the rule of law is one of only a few common denominators. Not releasing a statement condemning the actions of Hamas does not mean that our members support such actions. To the contrary, I think we can all agree that the images we’ve seen in Israel in the past two weeks are heartbreaking — thousands now dead in Israel and Gaza. It is devastating not just to those in the region, but to diaspora communities across the world. There should be no justification to exist for the murder of civilians, the taking of children as hostages, the desecration of corpses, rape or the celebration of violence. Regardless of your thoughts and opinions about the history of this region or the current state of affairs, it should be impossible to see grieving families and not be moved.

While I will not be issuing a statement on behalf of the association, I am publicly sharing my personal thoughts and feelings, not on the politics at issue, but why Jews in our community are personally afraid. When you grow up as a Jewish person, you learn of the myriad ways Jews have been persecuted throughout history. Almost all Jews in America have family who died in the Holocaust for no reason other than their religion. Our parents and grandparents taught us to be vigilant and never forget that we could be dragged from our homes and killed in the streets. We grew up learning that we must share the tales of hatred and bigotry our families endured so that it may never happen again. And yet it is happening again.

On Oct. 7, Hamas slaughtered over 1,300 Israelis and abducted more than 200. They kidnapped children, tortured elderly Holocaust survivors, murdered entire families, murdered over 250 concertgoers, paraded the dead as war trophies and did unspeakably worse. It was the largest murder of Jews on a single day since the Holocaust. I have been traumatized by these images and the pleas of Israelis on the news for the safe return of their family members. I am also traumatized by the lethal stabbing of a Palestinian-American child, Wadea Al-Fayoume, and the wounding of his mother solely because they are of Palestinian descent, and the deaths of innocent Palestinians in the hospital bombing in Gaza, many of whom do not share the beliefs of Hamas that Israel should be eradicated. The actions of Hamas are anti-semitism. However, that anti-semitism doesn’t only exist with Hamas, but also in other parts of the Middle East and in the United States, as well.

On Oct. 16, the FBI issued its 2022 crime statistics. The report showed that hate crime incidents in 2022 rose to 11,634 incidents, the highest number recorded since the FBI started tracking such data in 1991. Reported single-bias anti-Jewish hate crime incidents in the country sharply rose by more than 37%, reaching 1,122 incidents, the highest number recorded in almost three decades and the second-highest number on record. Jews make up 2% of the American population, but close to 70% of all funding to combat hate crime initiatives in the United States goes to combat anti-semitism because it is so prolific. Already a tremendous amount of anti-semitic discourse has followed the events in Israel. Antisemitic literature is showing up on the driveways of Jewish homes with links to antisemitic websites declaring that “Jews wage war on American freedoms.” Speeches are taking place on college campuses solely blaming Jews for what has taken place in Israel. Less than a week after the Hamas invasion, Hamas supporters are already denying the despicable death and destruction. There will always be differences of opinion about the history and solutions surrounding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, but such disagreements should not result in the resuscitation of anti-semitic tropes.

Due to the prevalence of anti-semitism, I admonish my children to not wear their Star of David necklaces for fear they will be harmed. My friends of other faiths attend their places of worship without added security to protect against hate crimes, while my synagogue requires constant police surveillance and an advanced security system to protect against threats. My 18-year-old son attends Indiana University and called home after his first week on campus to say he had met someone in a friend’s dorm who had told him he had “Jewed down” the cost of an item with someone selling something online. When I attended IU, my freshman-year roommate told me she’d never met a Jewish person before and had been told we have horns.

I am sharing these stories because I fear that I and other American Jews became complacent as we assimilated, and while we continue to discuss anti-semitism among ourselves, we fail to discuss it with our non-Jewish colleagues and friends. This has led to fear that what is happening in the Middle East is just a concern of the Jews, and that if a war breaks out between the Middle East and Western nations, Jews will be blamed instead of supported. It is alarming that my social media feeds are filled with concern by my Jewish friends but rarely mentioned by those outside my faith. So instead of expressing my fears only among my Jewish friends and colleagues, I am publicly telling you about my personal concerns and experiences.

I have experienced a tremendous amount of support from non-Jews by taking part in organizations that do not have my faith as a precept of belonging. This can most assuredly be said about my membership in the Indianapolis Bar Association, and I hope that support will grow as a result of this column. The law is a noble profession, and we use it to promote equity and justice within our communities. I am angry and terrified, but my experience as a lawyer has taught me that the only way to achieve peace and justice is to speak out, and that is what I am doing.•