When I first visited Israel in the early aughts, I expected no more than a short stay. Growing up Jewish in America, I knew of the Promised Land, but I thought it was promised to someone else. As a surfer, I spent much more time pining over places like the North Shore of Hawaii or Cloudbreak in Fiji.

But at some point during my brief stint in the Homeland, things took a sudden redirect. I fell in love with the land and the people – and, as it turned out, there was plenty of surf to be had.

I’ve now lived here for almost 20 years, and I’ve surfed through all the ups and downs: from the COVID lockdowns when beach access was illegal to the past year and a half of rocket attacks when it was somehow permitted. Even through all this, I’ve never regretted a single instant of my time spent in the Mediterranean.

When I travel for work, and I’m lucky enough to sneak some surf in, I never hide who I am or where I’m from, proudly displaying my kippah wherever I am. When my work brought me to Portugal, I wasn’t sure how I’d be received.

The first local I mentioned it to replied, “I have tons of friends in Tel Aviv. I’m a pilot and travel back and forth from Israel regularly.” The second person I connected with was a professional surfer. When I asked if she knew Anat Lelior, one of the few Israeli representatives in the World Surf League – the global home for competitive surfing – she replied, “Of course! She’s one of my closest friends.”

 Israeli surfer Anat Lelior. (credit: Wikimedia Commons)
Israeli surfer Anat Lelior. (credit: Wikimedia Commons)
Lelior has recently been in the news for us Israeli surf fans. Her third-place finish in Morocco qualified her for the Challenger Series (the minor leagues) of the WSL, taking her one step closer to the Championship Tour (the majors).

She’s the first Israeli to reach that level of competition. However, unlike all the other competitors in Morocco, Lelior’s national flag was visibly absent from her competitive jersey. It was only after the event’s completion that her national listing on the WSL website changed from “World” to “Israel.”

A great deal of speculation has swirled around this story. Most news outlets reported that the WSL demanded the Israeli flag be removed in the predominantly Muslim country. Others contended that it was Lelior’s request for her own safety.

This followed the removal of all flags at the Abu Dhabi wave pool competition just one month prior. Of course, the absence of the national symbols did nothing to halt the victor from riding his last wave donning a Brazilian flag “cape.”

A grim reminder: The many countries holding Israelis in disdain

The news about Lelior is a sobering reminder of the world we live in. While many Jewish surfers thrive around the globe, and we can boast a world champion in Shaun Tomson, it’s not as if Israelis have forgotten the disdain many harbor for us.

At the beginning of the war, the Maldives announced a plan to bar all Israeli passport holders from entering the country. Those who reject the Jewish state’s presence in professional surf competitions and have called for its ouster compare Israel to South African apartheid. Granted, I fundamentally reject that these cases are analogous, but this position I can understand. At least their demands are rooted in public protest.

The reality on the ground, however, is the exact opposite. Israel’s 20% Arab population has achieved the highest levels of public office, from serving as members of the Knesset to sitting as Supreme Court justices. Although many Israeli Arabs support the Palestinian cause, the majority identify as Israeli, knowing they’d face significantly fewer freedoms under Hamas rule.

As it turns out, my biggest fears were confirmed when I spoke to Lelior upon her return from Morocco. The World Surf League did not request the flag be omitted; instead, they respected her wishes. “It was my decision,” Lelior shared. “I was meant to go to Morocco alone. I chose to remove the flag solely for personal security reasons. Right now, the world climate requires us [Israelis] to be more cautious.”

When did our world change so radically that disagreements must be resolved through violence? Everyone, both in and out of the lineup, can have vastly disparate viewpoints. This is healthy and natural. But when we’re no longer willing to discuss these differences and when violence is an acceptable form of protest, we’re seriously taking on water.

The writer is a rabbi, a wedding officiant, and a mohel who performs britot (ritual circumcisions) and conversions in Israel and worldwide. Based in Efrat, Israel, he is the founder of Magen HaBrit, an organization protecting the practice of brit milah and the children who undergo it.