The Arab family also helped him to understand some of his own biases and assumptions.
"I asked my host if he was Christian or Muslim," Springier recalls. "He resented this because the Israeli authorities try to classify Palestinians as Christians or Muslims and deny their unified national identity, which supposedly transcends their religious identity. He said to me, 'You are replicating in this arena the biases of most Israeli Jews.'"
During the summer, Springer's mother visited his Arab family. "She was very hesitant," he recalls. "We sat down and my host talked about how they were kicked out of Haifa. She hard for her to hear those things. She never really spent any time with Palestinians even though she grew up there."
Springer himself met with more challenges as a camp counselor. Often games intended to be cooperative became violent, "like, 'let's see who can be thrown out of the circle fastest."
After two days of camp, other counselors also sensed tension between the Jewish and Palestinian campers, and planned separate meetings for the two groups to air their grievances. Springer led the group of Jewish campers, while his Palestinian co-counselor led the Palestinian group. Springer asked his group, "What do you think of Arabs?" He received answers like, "They're dangerous," "I wouldn't trust them," and "Why do they have to stay in my country?"
"One girl came up to me afterward and said, 'I hate our Arab co-counselor--I want to stab her.'" Springer remembers. She didn't show these feelings at all when she was with the counselor. And I remember thinking that the best thing for her would be to have genuine interaction with the Palestinian counselor."
One day, Springer and other counselors led an exercise in which Jews acted out the PLO and Palestinians acted out the Israeli army. The goal of the exercise was to teach the campers the opposing point of view.
"To the Palestinian kids, the Isreali army was guns, everywhere you go. To the Jewish kids, it was what everyone serves in. And to the Jews, Yassir Arafat was a terrorist. To the Palestinians, he was president. When he reflects on the camp, Springer is ambivalent. "If they gained anything, it was because they were thrown together as friends. But to me it seemed more important to solve the political situation...how much could the camp do when the cousins of these kids were throwing rocks at each other across the green line?"
His work at the human rights organization completed Springer's education. He spent time in the West bank, visiting the wives of men who were about to be deported. He tired to interview psychiatrists on the West Bank. They would not speak with him because they were afraid of losing their jobs, but they did say that Israeli authorities had interfered with medical care, stopping ambulances, for example. Springer visited victims of Israeli army violence, and he saw people's homes which had been demolished.
He also brought educational materials to first and second graders. Later, Springer recalls, "the books we brought were confiscated and burned by the army, because that aren't on the official curriculum." He laughs, "These were books for first and second graders. Reading and Writing."
Springer brought these experiences home, to his family, friends, the Harvard community, and the Jewish community. "My father was largely sympathetic because he too had gone to Israel with some idealism and some preconceived notions and had been disappointed, in the 50s. When I began to educate myself, he did as well and became open to new ways of thinking."
Springer says that his mother often feels that he is too critical of Israel. "She feels that I am not sympathetic enough to the threats experienced by Jews there."
In the Jewish community, Springer has acted as a gadfly, constantly questioning, challenging, prodding, and probing. Some members of Hillel say that his influence has been divisive.
"In a sense he has divided the community," Chubin says. "But in a sense he has helped it come back together, too, after expressing that diversity."
Although he's caused controversy within the Jewish community, even his ideological opponents respect his commitment to his views and openness to debate.
Whenever Springer meets Seeman, he greets him in Arabic, a political gesture that does not escape his friend. "The fact he says it with a smile enables it to be taken in a positive sense," Seeman says.
Indeed, there are few aspects of Springer's life that are not touched by his political beliefs. In his Quincy House room, he has a file cabinet relating to Israel. And in that cabinet, his friend Kanaaneh discloses, "He has a folder called 'activism' and it's really, really big."