Fighting for Immigrants: Challenging but Imperative

Meeting Ayman Soliman 

My first encounter with Imam Soliman was memorable. You see, he and I met after I spoke somewhat timidly at Council about the need for some kind of temporary humanitarian ceasefire and the return of Israeli hostages. (A resolution in such spirit ultimately would become the backbone of what City Council did pass, led by Councilwoman Anna Albi.) After I spoke, Imam Soliman came and found me in the hallway outside of City Council chambers. He was of a slight build, a little bit older than me, and that day he was wearing a bright red fez.

He introduced himself and thanked me for what I had said. I reminded him that what each of us wanted vis-a-vis Israel-Palestine probably was quite different at the end of the day–i.e., we did not agree about many things. He said it didn't matter, he was just grateful to have a conversation with somebody who also wanted to see an end to the harm of innocent civilians in Gaza. We continued to talk, said we would meet up, and exchanged information.

Sadly, despite a few emails back and forth, the two of us never did get that coffee. And the next chance I had to see him in person was yesterday morning at the Blue Ash ICE office.

Trouble At ICE

I got there at 8:30, prompted by a request for interfaith religious leaders to come support him during this ordeal. When I arrived, I congregated with several other faith leaders, all of us there early so we could see Imam Soliman before he began his 9:00 appointment. Eventually, we spotted him as he walked up the sidewalk toward the entrance, shook some hands, exchanged knowing glances about the gravity of the situation, and then went inside–and that was it. 

As religious leaders, we stayed outside and waited, sharing some words and prayers. Eventually, though, people began to leave as the minutes turned to hours. I myself pushed back our Temple Sholom weekly staff meeting a bit, but eventually accepted I’d need to head into the office, leaving around 10:30. At that point, we still had hope that everything might be alright. It feels trite now, but I even sent Imam Soliman a short email letting him know that I was sorry I couldn't be there when he would get out and that I was with him in spirit. Unbeknownst to any of us, things were about to get worse.

Sitting at Temple Sholom a couple hours later, I began to receive text messages from fellow clergy who were still at the ICE center. They let me know that they were still outside, and Imam Soliman had not been let out. Finally, more than 3 hours after the appointment began, the word came that ICE had decided to detain him to eventually deport him back to Egypt. In response, folks began arranging an afternoon press conference at which faith leaders were asked to reassemble. I agreed to come, expecting this next step to be solemn and difficult, but otherwise “uneventful.”

That was hardly the case. When I got back to the ICE center, before I could even get to our staging area, an interfaith colleague called out my name and gestured for me to come talk with her. She pointed out a new crowd of people who had not been there that morning–members of multiple left-leaning extremist organizations, including one that has on multiple occasions publicly attacked me and other leaders in the Jewish community. In our estimation, based on their past behavior, there was a decent likelihood that they were there either broadly to agitate and cause escalation, or to turn the entire scene into a litigation of the Israel-Palestine conflict. 

In the moment, I think I may have had what some folks would call a “trauma response” and felt momentarily paralyzed about what to do. Should I just go home? Should I stay, remaining at a distance? Should I go to the press conference, but remove my tallit and kipah, outward markers of my Jewish identity?

I ultimately decided to stay, wearing these symbols which proudly mark me as a Jew. At least in a few cases, I'm sure I was recognized, since some of these groups have put much effort into harassing and shaming me. I felt a little scared, and I'd be lying were I to say I didn’t frequently look over my shoulder. But, in the moment, I decided the most important things were a) to be there for Imam Soliman, and b) not to allow a small minority of intolerant individuals to delete Jews’ presence from this important place. 

Why Jews Must Keep Showing Up

We know that there are many ongoing abuses of immigrants and refugees being committed by ICE right now, and that should concern us all. Regardless of the particulars of Imam Soliman’s case or the validity of his personal asylum claim, his experience represents something very wrong with America. 

I believe that Jews broadly agree with this assessment. However, I am not convinced that Jews equally broadly are prepared to stand up and fight against wrongs like this one, given the complications we know exist in allied spaces these days. This “complication” is of the same nature as that which caused many Jews to sit out of Cincinnati Pride just a couple of weeks ago, and it's a phenomenon that I fear we will see over and over going forward. 

Here's the problem with what I’d call the “keep-your-head-down” strategy. First, it plays right into the hands of those who antagonize Jews. If people like these extreme leftists, or for that matter those on the fringe right, can erase Jews from society without even having to lift a finger, they will do so. It is one of the tactics in their arsenal to harm Jews–making us so uncomfortable that we pull back on our engagement with the larger world. As for me and my house, except in moments of actual, imminent risk of violence, I'll be damned if we’re going to allow people who hate Jews to determine where, how, and when we exercise our voice in public as members of the Jewish people. I know the places, times, and ways that I want to be Jewish, and I won't be shy about acting on them. 

What's more, though, is that giving in and hiding will not build the world I want to see. I'm invested, for instance, in ensuring that ICE doesn't harm refugees in our country. Refugees need the help of the Jewish community to stay protected–and I will not sacrifice refugees to protect myself from the discomfort of yahoo leftists or hardcore right-wingers. Both asylum seekers and Jews deserve safety, community, and protection under the law; and we must build it together. I know it's a cliche, but it's true: united we will stand, divided we will fall.

And so, with all of that, I can safely say that it’s been an unusual day. Frankly, the challenges I faced feel like trivial inconveniences compared to the actual reason why I began my day as I did: A good man, someone with whom I shared a moment of humanity in a dark time, being unjustly harmed by a problematic system. I got out of the press conference unscathed; to my knowledge, Imam Soliman is still up at the Butler County Jail, being held for who knows how long, with who knows what fate.

If that isn’t enough reason for us Jews to overcome our inertia and bear our discomfort to get to work, then I don’t know what else would be.