Summer may be ending but the political arena is finally getting warmer after months of boredom. Not surprisingly, Tzipi Livni took the Kadima primaries on Wednesday but the fallout was heavy. All the polling companies predicted a significant victory for her over Shaul Mofaz, but when the ballots were actually counted her advantage was only around four hundred votes. What is the excuse for this gross statistical miscalculation? It seems the exit poll voters pulled a fast one on the pollsters by lying about their votes, a very interesting ploy. It may be understood as a classic example of the Israeli desire to beat the system. It may also be an expression of frustration with a political culture obsessed with the public's opinion. Perhaps this attempt to mess with the system is actually a cry of desperation from an electorate weary of politicians who determine their policy based on the feeling of the Israeli street? Perhaps it's a demand for the return of political leaders who lead according to their own inner moral compass? Where are the Begins, the Rabins, the Sharons who pursued policy despite what the people wanted? Give us a politician who tells us what we do not want to hear, but knows best (Barak and Netanyahu need not apply).
P.S. At least one of the polling companies has announced that it will not longer run exit polls for primary elections.
The second very interesting development is Shaul Mofaz's announcement that, in the wake of his loss to Tzipi Livni in the Kadima primaries, he is leaving politics for now. If there were any doubts about Mofaz's integrity, this move affirms them all. There's only one word for a guy like this: quitter. Politics is a tough, dirty business, especially in Israel. Even a successful person like Mofaz, who worked his way up from a poor family to become chief of staff of the Israeli army, and then Minister of Defense in the government, has many detractors. His claim that the media was against him might be true (two days before the primaries there were five editorials in Haaretz, three about the election and all heavily in favor of Livni); since they largely represent the Ashkenazi establishment he might, as a Mizrahi Jew, feel justifiably discriminated against, although we can be sure that many other Mizrahi Jews voted for Mofaz simply because of his ethnic background. No matter how many dirty tricks his opponent's people played on him and no matter how he analyzes his loss, Mofaz has a responsibility to all of the people who worked tirelessly on his campaign and all of the people who gave him their votes of confidence to stay in the game and represent them, even if he lost the contest. If I had voted for him I would be bitterly disillusioned over his announcement to quit.
Mofaz evidently feels insulted by the Livni's smear campaign against him. "They tried to portray me as a political wheeler dealer, a stupid, depraved man, despite all I contributed," Mofaz was quoted in Haaretz. One of the commentators suggested Mofaz felt the media had manipulated the announcement of the exit polls to turn away his voters while the polls were still open - in short, a conspiracy. He also mentioned Mofaz's dislike of Livni and his defeat by a mere 1.1%, the ultimate insult. One needs a very thick skin to play the political game in Israel, which Mofaz evidently does not have, but I think his surprising exit from the highest reaches of government (pundits were predicting that Livni would give him the foreign ministry post) might really be about reporting to a woman boss. Not only does Mofaz come from a deeply chauvinistic ethnic culture but he rose through the ranks of the Israeli army, the ultimate homegrown macho, chauvinistic institution, to lead and symbolize it. At the risk of sounding politically incorrect I would like to point out that our former, now disgraced president Moshe Katzav is a native son of the same Persian culture so notorious for its deeply ingrained view of women as inferior to men. It's dangerous to generalize but I speak now as a woman, regardless of my ethnic background. Some men, no matter how accomplished, are incapable of accepting women as their equals and I believe that Shaul Mofaz is one of them. He can declaim a littany of shortcomings about Livni as a politician but the bottom line is he would rather go home and sulk rather than report to a woman. The welfare of the state, the party, the future of the Jewish people - suddenly, they can manage just fine without Shaul Mofaz. I never liked him anyway, so good riddance. Although, mark my words: he'll be back.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Embrace Change
There's nothing like spending August in New York during a year of both Olympics and upcoming presidential elections to reinforce the American part of my identity. The showcase of American athletic talent on display in Beijing was an inspiring advertisement for the power of both the individual and the state in a democracy. Those wholesome, corn-fed, free-range gymnasts exhuded an honesty that seemed out of reach to the robotic pre-teen Chinese girls, and Michael Phelps' accomplishments renewed the time-worn idea that every individual retains the potential to do what has never been done before.
Even more exciting has been following the nominations for Democratic and Republican candidates for president. The fact that a woman and a black man were the two main contenders for the Democratic nomination is an astounding development in the advancement of the American democratic system. The monopoly of American presidential politics since the country's inception by white, anglo-saxon, protestant men has finally been busted. Millions of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens finally feel their votes might actually count for something. As a result of Barack Obama's nomination, the number of voters expected to go to the polls in 2008 will break all records, and this is a true victory for democracy. Even if the Democrats lose, the revolution has been won because a regression to the old domination is unthinkable. The Republicans proved this by choosing a woman to run on the vice-presidential ticket. As conservative and reactionary as she may be, her presence still represents 51% of the citizens of the United States and their stake in the future of the country.
So, as a proud American, what messages can I bring back with me to Israel and our Palestinian neighbors this year? First of all, change is a good thing. We are a work in progress and we must continue to search for new options, new formulas and new leaders. It always seems safer to rely on the familiar but perhaps the keys to our most difficult issues are lying in an unobtrusive place, waiting to be discovered? Tzipi Livni is the most promising face in Israeli politics today. The Israeli WASP (white, ashkenazi, smolani (left-wing) paratrooper) old boys club is always quick to put down a woman for being soft and militarily inexperienced, but I have long maintained that if women were running the Middle East our conflicts would have been solved long ago. Livni is extremely intelligent, hard-working, pragmatic and honest and her lack of an army career means she will be much more capable of thinking outside the narrow, formulaic box of retired generals. Viva la difference!
The other message I would like to impart, particularly to the Palestinians, is that even in a healthy democracy change does not take place overnight; it's a painstakingly slow, laborious process that regresses a step backward for every two forward. It took one hundred years after the elimination of slavery before the civil rights act was passed to finally guarantee equal rights to blacks in America, and over forty years since then for a black man to represent a major party in presidential elections. It's a long, uphill slog but it can be, and has been, done. However, to paraphrase an American writer, with dreams come responsibilities. When Barack Obama raised the issue of the failure of black men as fathers to a black audience he demonstrated that the ability to question inwardly and to accept responsibilty for failure is a critical characteristic of true leadership. Is there a Palestinian leader out there somewhere who is capable of galvanizing a nation of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens under the flag of true equality and freedom for all? I doubt it, but being American means you never lose hope.
Even more exciting has been following the nominations for Democratic and Republican candidates for president. The fact that a woman and a black man were the two main contenders for the Democratic nomination is an astounding development in the advancement of the American democratic system. The monopoly of American presidential politics since the country's inception by white, anglo-saxon, protestant men has finally been busted. Millions of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens finally feel their votes might actually count for something. As a result of Barack Obama's nomination, the number of voters expected to go to the polls in 2008 will break all records, and this is a true victory for democracy. Even if the Democrats lose, the revolution has been won because a regression to the old domination is unthinkable. The Republicans proved this by choosing a woman to run on the vice-presidential ticket. As conservative and reactionary as she may be, her presence still represents 51% of the citizens of the United States and their stake in the future of the country.
So, as a proud American, what messages can I bring back with me to Israel and our Palestinian neighbors this year? First of all, change is a good thing. We are a work in progress and we must continue to search for new options, new formulas and new leaders. It always seems safer to rely on the familiar but perhaps the keys to our most difficult issues are lying in an unobtrusive place, waiting to be discovered? Tzipi Livni is the most promising face in Israeli politics today. The Israeli WASP (white, ashkenazi, smolani (left-wing) paratrooper) old boys club is always quick to put down a woman for being soft and militarily inexperienced, but I have long maintained that if women were running the Middle East our conflicts would have been solved long ago. Livni is extremely intelligent, hard-working, pragmatic and honest and her lack of an army career means she will be much more capable of thinking outside the narrow, formulaic box of retired generals. Viva la difference!
The other message I would like to impart, particularly to the Palestinians, is that even in a healthy democracy change does not take place overnight; it's a painstakingly slow, laborious process that regresses a step backward for every two forward. It took one hundred years after the elimination of slavery before the civil rights act was passed to finally guarantee equal rights to blacks in America, and over forty years since then for a black man to represent a major party in presidential elections. It's a long, uphill slog but it can be, and has been, done. However, to paraphrase an American writer, with dreams come responsibilities. When Barack Obama raised the issue of the failure of black men as fathers to a black audience he demonstrated that the ability to question inwardly and to accept responsibilty for failure is a critical characteristic of true leadership. Is there a Palestinian leader out there somewhere who is capable of galvanizing a nation of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens under the flag of true equality and freedom for all? I doubt it, but being American means you never lose hope.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Old City, New Style
This summer Jerusalem inaugurated two modern additions to this ancient epicenter of holiness.
"Old City, New Style" was the catchy slogan in the advertising campaign for the Mamilla mall, the latest temple of the cult of Israeli shopping, conveniently located directly opposite the Jaffa Gate. This previously slummy street that connects the old and new cities has been transformed into a charming avenue of classic Jerusalem stone facades and painstakingly renovated structures to create a unique environment for spending more money. Jerusalemites are now privileged to shop for the same name brands we previously had to journey to the coast of the Philistines to purchase ( in fact, the tv commercial showed the logos being laboriously hauled, a la the ancient Egyptian pyramids, up a steep incline to the Holy City). Tourists now have a respite from the spiritual and educational exhaustion of the four quarters. After a day of religious and political sensory overload and aching feet, they can easily repair to this quaint yet stylish avenue to enjoy a cappuccino, try on Naot sandals, buy a cocktail dress and view the work of local artists inspired by the diversity of the city's landscapes. Finally, a shopping venue with a touch of class and character - it's almost like having a taste of Fifth Avenue in the city, a refreshing change from the seedy discount stores that line Jaffa Road and the mediocrity of the Malcha Mall. The Mamilla mall's intimate proximity to the Old City serves as a reminder that a vibrant, modern society exists alongside the enthralling strata of five thousand years. The mall's easy access from David Street, the main avenue of the Arab market and the latest incarnation of the Decamanus, a central commercial artery of ancient Jerusalem, hints that despite the fancy innovations nothing much has changed here in two thousand years: tourists love to shop!
The second new attraction in Jerusalem is the wonderous and spectacular Chords Bridge at the entrance to the city. Designed by the world-renown Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, the bridge will transport the trains of the new light rail system over the main intersection at the city's entrance into the central bus station. A suspension bridge, its structure consists of a severe, angled mast rising into the sky for 119 meters and supporting 66 steel cables that wrap around it on one side. Depending on the direction from which it is viewed, it appears as a fantastic bird poised in flight, a space-age aircraft soaring into the sky, a work in progress on a giant weaver's loom or an unabashed middle finger directed at the heavens.
The bridge's exhorbitant cost of 220 million shekels and its location in a congested, unaesthetic section of the city have been relentlessy criticized as wasteful but happily, the naysayers lost this one. Every time I drive past the bridge I am reminded that Jerusalem has been reinvented as a city with a relationship to other cities in the modern world. We are no longer just a metropolis with an ancient wall at its heart, but an urban center with a modern architectural monument as well. In a city that is being slowly strangled by reactionary religious leaders and abandoned by mainstream Israelis, the bridge is a ray of hope that we are not being left behind. Not surprisingly, this light was overshadowed by the scandalous travesty of the bridge's dedication ceremony when teenage girls participating in a dance performance were forced to cover their bodies with long-sleeved garments and their hair with ski caps by ultra-orthodox political hacks from city hall. Jerusalem is tottering on the brink of destruction by Jewish fundamentalists; hopefully, the Chords Bridge is a sign that the future of the city is not yet lost.
"Old City, New Style" was the catchy slogan in the advertising campaign for the Mamilla mall, the latest temple of the cult of Israeli shopping, conveniently located directly opposite the Jaffa Gate. This previously slummy street that connects the old and new cities has been transformed into a charming avenue of classic Jerusalem stone facades and painstakingly renovated structures to create a unique environment for spending more money. Jerusalemites are now privileged to shop for the same name brands we previously had to journey to the coast of the Philistines to purchase ( in fact, the tv commercial showed the logos being laboriously hauled, a la the ancient Egyptian pyramids, up a steep incline to the Holy City). Tourists now have a respite from the spiritual and educational exhaustion of the four quarters. After a day of religious and political sensory overload and aching feet, they can easily repair to this quaint yet stylish avenue to enjoy a cappuccino, try on Naot sandals, buy a cocktail dress and view the work of local artists inspired by the diversity of the city's landscapes. Finally, a shopping venue with a touch of class and character - it's almost like having a taste of Fifth Avenue in the city, a refreshing change from the seedy discount stores that line Jaffa Road and the mediocrity of the Malcha Mall. The Mamilla mall's intimate proximity to the Old City serves as a reminder that a vibrant, modern society exists alongside the enthralling strata of five thousand years. The mall's easy access from David Street, the main avenue of the Arab market and the latest incarnation of the Decamanus, a central commercial artery of ancient Jerusalem, hints that despite the fancy innovations nothing much has changed here in two thousand years: tourists love to shop!
The second new attraction in Jerusalem is the wonderous and spectacular Chords Bridge at the entrance to the city. Designed by the world-renown Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, the bridge will transport the trains of the new light rail system over the main intersection at the city's entrance into the central bus station. A suspension bridge, its structure consists of a severe, angled mast rising into the sky for 119 meters and supporting 66 steel cables that wrap around it on one side. Depending on the direction from which it is viewed, it appears as a fantastic bird poised in flight, a space-age aircraft soaring into the sky, a work in progress on a giant weaver's loom or an unabashed middle finger directed at the heavens.
The bridge's exhorbitant cost of 220 million shekels and its location in a congested, unaesthetic section of the city have been relentlessy criticized as wasteful but happily, the naysayers lost this one. Every time I drive past the bridge I am reminded that Jerusalem has been reinvented as a city with a relationship to other cities in the modern world. We are no longer just a metropolis with an ancient wall at its heart, but an urban center with a modern architectural monument as well. In a city that is being slowly strangled by reactionary religious leaders and abandoned by mainstream Israelis, the bridge is a ray of hope that we are not being left behind. Not surprisingly, this light was overshadowed by the scandalous travesty of the bridge's dedication ceremony when teenage girls participating in a dance performance were forced to cover their bodies with long-sleeved garments and their hair with ski caps by ultra-orthodox political hacks from city hall. Jerusalem is tottering on the brink of destruction by Jewish fundamentalists; hopefully, the Chords Bridge is a sign that the future of the city is not yet lost.
Monday, June 2, 2008
The John Hagee Imbroglio
News has reached us in Israel of an election-related fracas in the U.S. concerning the endorsement of John McCain by Pastor John Hagee, who allegedly insinuated that the Holocaust was part of God's plan to bring the Jewish people back to Israel.
Without messing in the current debate, I would like to say a few words about John Hagee, with whom I have worked several times over the past ten years and whom I know personally. Pastor Hagee is arguably the prototype of the classic evangelical preacher: he is charismatic, with an enormous booming voice tinged with a deep Texas twang. He has a huge church in San Antonio, reaches millions more people through his television ministry and he raises extraordinary sums of money.
A kind and gentle man, I admit that I was never especially concerned with the messages he preached to the hundreds of participants of his tours I have guided - usually, when the preacher starts preaching the guides go off for a cup of coffee (and anyway, that southern accent always makes me think of white hoods and Mississippi Burning). However, during his visit this past April Pastor Hagee held A Night To Honor Israel, a platform for Christian support for Israel he has developed. Numerous Israeli dignitaries and politicians were in attendance, including representatives of the many Jewish charitable organizations that received a total of more than six million dollars from John Hagee Ministries. Songs were sung and speeches were made, but Pastor Hagee's speech was the main attraction, and I must say that I was deeply moved to hear his message.
Friends and members of the tribe, this is a breed of gentile that is foreign to us. After three thousand years of persecution, even in the twenty first century we are still resigned to remain the object of hatred and scorn by Christians, whether overt or covert. Hence, I had to listen very carefully to John Hagee's speech because I had never heard statements like his from a Christian leader. "I love the Jewish people because they gave me everything that is precious to me: the Bible, the Ten Commandments, the prophets, Joseph , Mary and Jesus." He continued on to say very emphatically that he has no hidden agenda, and the following day at a memorial service at Yad Vashem he declared that "Christian anti-semitism is an oxymoron." And although his political positions on the Israeli issues are heavily right-wing, he has publically advocated for Israel's right to make it's own decisions.
Our Jewish knee-jerk reaction to a person like this is suspicion: what's the real motivation behind the words? Is this a ploy to get our guard down so he can convert us all to Christianity? Or perhaps it's a plot to hasten the war between Gog and Magog? Sorry, gang, none of the above. As outlandish as it sounds, John Hagee is a devoted Christian pastor who deeply loves and respects the Jewish people - that is my personal impression, based on his clearly articulated messages to the sixteen busloads of Christians he brought with him to Israel. This is not an enemy, but rather a close friend and advocate of the Jewish people and Israel who is attempting to rectify centuries of Christian animosity towards us. It is no small task, especially since, ironically, he encounters deep suspicion from many American Jews. Before you write him off as yet another fire-and-brimstone preaching, bible-thumping, anti-semitic southern evangelist get beyond the stereotype. Listen carefully to what he says: he may be our most devoted and powerful friend.
Without messing in the current debate, I would like to say a few words about John Hagee, with whom I have worked several times over the past ten years and whom I know personally. Pastor Hagee is arguably the prototype of the classic evangelical preacher: he is charismatic, with an enormous booming voice tinged with a deep Texas twang. He has a huge church in San Antonio, reaches millions more people through his television ministry and he raises extraordinary sums of money.
A kind and gentle man, I admit that I was never especially concerned with the messages he preached to the hundreds of participants of his tours I have guided - usually, when the preacher starts preaching the guides go off for a cup of coffee (and anyway, that southern accent always makes me think of white hoods and Mississippi Burning). However, during his visit this past April Pastor Hagee held A Night To Honor Israel, a platform for Christian support for Israel he has developed. Numerous Israeli dignitaries and politicians were in attendance, including representatives of the many Jewish charitable organizations that received a total of more than six million dollars from John Hagee Ministries. Songs were sung and speeches were made, but Pastor Hagee's speech was the main attraction, and I must say that I was deeply moved to hear his message.
Friends and members of the tribe, this is a breed of gentile that is foreign to us. After three thousand years of persecution, even in the twenty first century we are still resigned to remain the object of hatred and scorn by Christians, whether overt or covert. Hence, I had to listen very carefully to John Hagee's speech because I had never heard statements like his from a Christian leader. "I love the Jewish people because they gave me everything that is precious to me: the Bible, the Ten Commandments, the prophets, Joseph , Mary and Jesus." He continued on to say very emphatically that he has no hidden agenda, and the following day at a memorial service at Yad Vashem he declared that "Christian anti-semitism is an oxymoron." And although his political positions on the Israeli issues are heavily right-wing, he has publically advocated for Israel's right to make it's own decisions.
Our Jewish knee-jerk reaction to a person like this is suspicion: what's the real motivation behind the words? Is this a ploy to get our guard down so he can convert us all to Christianity? Or perhaps it's a plot to hasten the war between Gog and Magog? Sorry, gang, none of the above. As outlandish as it sounds, John Hagee is a devoted Christian pastor who deeply loves and respects the Jewish people - that is my personal impression, based on his clearly articulated messages to the sixteen busloads of Christians he brought with him to Israel. This is not an enemy, but rather a close friend and advocate of the Jewish people and Israel who is attempting to rectify centuries of Christian animosity towards us. It is no small task, especially since, ironically, he encounters deep suspicion from many American Jews. Before you write him off as yet another fire-and-brimstone preaching, bible-thumping, anti-semitic southern evangelist get beyond the stereotype. Listen carefully to what he says: he may be our most devoted and powerful friend.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
This Passover I Joined the Exodus
On October 3, 1985 I made aliyah to Israel at the age of twenty-three. This year, in 2008, the count will be evened: I will have spent twenty-three years of my life in Israel. After periodically reflecting on this milestone I decided to do something quintessentially Israeli: to leave the country for passover.
Looking ahead last winter at a work calendar overloaded for the long and unusually healthy tourist season, a relaxing vacation for the whole family seemed in order. I booked us into a resort hotel in southwestern Turkey - all inclusive. The idea of leaving took some getting used to; after all, passover in Israel is the ultimate Jewish experience. It begins with a cleaning frenzy that crescendos up to the night of the seder. It then continues with food, food, more food and hoardes of Israelis at every leisure attraction in this small country. It's the retelling of the exodus, it's the personalization of Jewish history, it's the covenant at Mount Sinai, it's the reexamination of the Jewish people's future and it's matzah. Matzah pizza, matzah lasagna, matzah felafel - until it emerges from all one's orifices, one crusty crumb at a time - except from, well, you know...
In the past I always felt obligated to participate in this dubious extravaganza of the Jewish establishment, but this year I liberated myself. We celebrated the seder with a mostly American crowd. We sang corny passover songs set to American classics (eg "Take Me Out to the Ball Game") and read the haggadah in English - just like in the old country. Two days later we were out of here.
How can I sing the praises of Turkey and the Hillside Beach Club sufficiently? After a short plane ride and no time change we landed near the Aegean Sea and drove along a green, mountainous coastline until we reached the resort, nestled in a private, idyllic cove on the beach. Just looking out the window of the hotel room soothes the soul immediately. When we said we were from Israel no one asked us why we were torturing the Palestinians in Gaza; all they wanted to know is if we were coming to play beach volleyball. The clientele is very international; judging just from what people were reading on the beach there were plenty of Turks, Germans, Brits, Dutch and Russians. Even though there were several hundred Israelis there with us we barely felt their presence.
And best of all - there wasn't a matzah in sight. In the enormous dining room, on the buffet overflowing with pasta, seafood, chinese, grilled meats, salads, cheeses and what not there was not a single morsel of unleavened bread. The waiters practiced their three Hebrew phrases on us every day but nobody mentioned the words 'passover,' 'exodus' or 'matzah.' No one asked us if we felt guilty betraying the Jewish people and no one cared what we ate. They just wanted us to have a great time - and we did.
And so, passover of 2008 will be remembered in my family as the most enoyable, relaxing vacation we've had in a while. A true festival of freedom.
Looking ahead last winter at a work calendar overloaded for the long and unusually healthy tourist season, a relaxing vacation for the whole family seemed in order. I booked us into a resort hotel in southwestern Turkey - all inclusive. The idea of leaving took some getting used to; after all, passover in Israel is the ultimate Jewish experience. It begins with a cleaning frenzy that crescendos up to the night of the seder. It then continues with food, food, more food and hoardes of Israelis at every leisure attraction in this small country. It's the retelling of the exodus, it's the personalization of Jewish history, it's the covenant at Mount Sinai, it's the reexamination of the Jewish people's future and it's matzah. Matzah pizza, matzah lasagna, matzah felafel - until it emerges from all one's orifices, one crusty crumb at a time - except from, well, you know...
In the past I always felt obligated to participate in this dubious extravaganza of the Jewish establishment, but this year I liberated myself. We celebrated the seder with a mostly American crowd. We sang corny passover songs set to American classics (eg "Take Me Out to the Ball Game") and read the haggadah in English - just like in the old country. Two days later we were out of here.
How can I sing the praises of Turkey and the Hillside Beach Club sufficiently? After a short plane ride and no time change we landed near the Aegean Sea and drove along a green, mountainous coastline until we reached the resort, nestled in a private, idyllic cove on the beach. Just looking out the window of the hotel room soothes the soul immediately. When we said we were from Israel no one asked us why we were torturing the Palestinians in Gaza; all they wanted to know is if we were coming to play beach volleyball. The clientele is very international; judging just from what people were reading on the beach there were plenty of Turks, Germans, Brits, Dutch and Russians. Even though there were several hundred Israelis there with us we barely felt their presence.
And best of all - there wasn't a matzah in sight. In the enormous dining room, on the buffet overflowing with pasta, seafood, chinese, grilled meats, salads, cheeses and what not there was not a single morsel of unleavened bread. The waiters practiced their three Hebrew phrases on us every day but nobody mentioned the words 'passover,' 'exodus' or 'matzah.' No one asked us if we felt guilty betraying the Jewish people and no one cared what we ate. They just wanted us to have a great time - and we did.
And so, passover of 2008 will be remembered in my family as the most enoyable, relaxing vacation we've had in a while. A true festival of freedom.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Draft Notices
Last week my two sixteen year-old daughters received their first draft notices in the mail. The fruit of my womb has been requisitioned by the Israel Defense Forces, and on May 25 my girls will start the process of enlisting in the army for two years after they graduate from high school.
This is a significant milestone for all of us, including me. I arrived in Israel after the draft age and never served in the army; at the end of eleventh grade I was filling out college applications and traveling around the northeast to visit campuses. (Needless to say, the thought of enlisting in the American armed forces never crossed my mind.) I missed out on the army as the ultimate experience of the Israeli melting pot; perhaps this is why I have always felt, to some extent, an outsider here. My daughters' army service might be my chance to serve in the army vicariously.
My husband's parents never wanted him to serve. Timid, fearful immigrants with Holocaust baggage, they sent him into exile in Canada at age fourteen, hoping he would choose not to return to Israel. Their plan backfired and he returned, determined to contribute, but the IDF was always a foreign body to them.
So our daughters will enlist with the full support and enthusiasm of both their parents because we believe deeply in the importance of the army as the tool of a strong, independent Jewish state. However, those letters from the IDF forced me to consider that our time together as a family in this configuration is running short. When our girls went off to first grade it seemed my ability to protect them was suddenly limited - all at once I found them with one foot outside the nest. Still, they were always close to home, in our orbit, under our watchful eyes, somehow steerable.
When they go off to the army we won't be able to see them from the nest anymore, a thought which prompts reflection on my role as a parent. Did I do the best job I possibly could while I still had the power to shape them? Have I prepared them to handle whatever will challenge them? Did I take advantage of every moment I had with them? Will they leave feeling loved and protected, or gasping for freedom?
It will be a struggle to step back and watch them take charge, although I believe that teaching our children to be independent is a parent's greatest obligation. If my daughters' army service will be an opportunity for them to learn and grow, then somehow the idea of an empty next isn't quite as daunting. I'll keep fluffing the feathers and warming the oven; hopefully, they'll always be happy to return home.
This is a significant milestone for all of us, including me. I arrived in Israel after the draft age and never served in the army; at the end of eleventh grade I was filling out college applications and traveling around the northeast to visit campuses. (Needless to say, the thought of enlisting in the American armed forces never crossed my mind.) I missed out on the army as the ultimate experience of the Israeli melting pot; perhaps this is why I have always felt, to some extent, an outsider here. My daughters' army service might be my chance to serve in the army vicariously.
My husband's parents never wanted him to serve. Timid, fearful immigrants with Holocaust baggage, they sent him into exile in Canada at age fourteen, hoping he would choose not to return to Israel. Their plan backfired and he returned, determined to contribute, but the IDF was always a foreign body to them.
So our daughters will enlist with the full support and enthusiasm of both their parents because we believe deeply in the importance of the army as the tool of a strong, independent Jewish state. However, those letters from the IDF forced me to consider that our time together as a family in this configuration is running short. When our girls went off to first grade it seemed my ability to protect them was suddenly limited - all at once I found them with one foot outside the nest. Still, they were always close to home, in our orbit, under our watchful eyes, somehow steerable.
When they go off to the army we won't be able to see them from the nest anymore, a thought which prompts reflection on my role as a parent. Did I do the best job I possibly could while I still had the power to shape them? Have I prepared them to handle whatever will challenge them? Did I take advantage of every moment I had with them? Will they leave feeling loved and protected, or gasping for freedom?
It will be a struggle to step back and watch them take charge, although I believe that teaching our children to be independent is a parent's greatest obligation. If my daughters' army service will be an opportunity for them to learn and grow, then somehow the idea of an empty next isn't quite as daunting. I'll keep fluffing the feathers and warming the oven; hopefully, they'll always be happy to return home.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Deja Vu
The attack on the Mercaz Harav Yeshiva last Thursday brought back a wave of painful memories and desperation. It's been a while since we sat in front of the tv watching the details of yet another bloodbath unfold in real time. Yet, it was if three years of relative quiet vanished into thin air as we returned to those horrendous days of siege and breaking news.
The general assumption here is that the most recent attack is not an indication of a new trend, a third intifada. The separation fence and the IDF's unlimited access to the dens of terror in the West Bank ensure that we will never return to the darkest days of the second intifada. However, although Hamas and the various minions of terrorism find it increasingly difficult to act, their determination and persistence sometimes pay off, particularly when the fires of revenge are coursing through their blood.
The newspapers reported that the terrorist, a 26-year old Palestinian from a prosperous family from East Jerusalem, was deeply affected by the media images of last week's Israeli incursion in to Gaza, when about one hundred Palestinians were killed, many of them civilians. He chose to avenge their deaths, knowing he would die in the process.
The Palestinian glorification of death and their preoccupation with revenge are two cultural characteristics with which Israelis and Jews cannot identify. Although a desire to blow them all to kingdom come is a common reaction to a terrorist attack, it is widely acknowledged as a visceral one. When we regain our senses we remember that revenge is not a strategy by which a state operates but a powerful emotional desire that brings no resolution to the problems at hand.
Obviously, the terrorist did not care to acknowledge that the Israeli incursion into Gaza was a response to a direct threat to our homefront that no sovereign nation would willingly accept. The Palestinian inability to self-examine has created a deep sense of victimhood - they are always right, Israel is always at fault. This approach was evident in the reply of an Arab man from the terrorist's hometown who was asked by a reporter, "what do you think of the terrorist?" "What do you think about what happened in Gaza?" he retorted.
So, the solution is not to hit harder. It is to find a way to end the hitting by both sides. The cycle of violence only serves those who wish to perpetuate the conflict, and not those who are tired of living by the sword. However, speaking as an eternal optimist, it's virtually impossible to see the light at the end of the tunnel. There is no leadership figure on either side that can tip the balance towards a positive process - at best, we will continue to jog in place. Each party to the conflict is intrenched in its indignation and convinced the ball is in the opponent's court. Is there anybody out there who can save us?
The general assumption here is that the most recent attack is not an indication of a new trend, a third intifada. The separation fence and the IDF's unlimited access to the dens of terror in the West Bank ensure that we will never return to the darkest days of the second intifada. However, although Hamas and the various minions of terrorism find it increasingly difficult to act, their determination and persistence sometimes pay off, particularly when the fires of revenge are coursing through their blood.
The newspapers reported that the terrorist, a 26-year old Palestinian from a prosperous family from East Jerusalem, was deeply affected by the media images of last week's Israeli incursion in to Gaza, when about one hundred Palestinians were killed, many of them civilians. He chose to avenge their deaths, knowing he would die in the process.
The Palestinian glorification of death and their preoccupation with revenge are two cultural characteristics with which Israelis and Jews cannot identify. Although a desire to blow them all to kingdom come is a common reaction to a terrorist attack, it is widely acknowledged as a visceral one. When we regain our senses we remember that revenge is not a strategy by which a state operates but a powerful emotional desire that brings no resolution to the problems at hand.
Obviously, the terrorist did not care to acknowledge that the Israeli incursion into Gaza was a response to a direct threat to our homefront that no sovereign nation would willingly accept. The Palestinian inability to self-examine has created a deep sense of victimhood - they are always right, Israel is always at fault. This approach was evident in the reply of an Arab man from the terrorist's hometown who was asked by a reporter, "what do you think of the terrorist?" "What do you think about what happened in Gaza?" he retorted.
So, the solution is not to hit harder. It is to find a way to end the hitting by both sides. The cycle of violence only serves those who wish to perpetuate the conflict, and not those who are tired of living by the sword. However, speaking as an eternal optimist, it's virtually impossible to see the light at the end of the tunnel. There is no leadership figure on either side that can tip the balance towards a positive process - at best, we will continue to jog in place. Each party to the conflict is intrenched in its indignation and convinced the ball is in the opponent's court. Is there anybody out there who can save us?
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