Jerusalem's Center

Yes, We Have No Bananas (Maybe)

2007-09-12T14:00:00.000+03:00

September 12, 2007
29 Elul 5767
Erev Rosh Hashanah

Shalom, it has been a long time; remember me? I haven’t written since last April. Much has transpired in the intervening months. Wendy and I traveled to Southern California, not once, but twice to celebrate weddings at which I had the honor to officiate, including one at the end of July for my nephew and, now, niece Scott and Lainie Donnell. Those trips kept us away for much of the summer, so I did not have much to report from our home base in Jerusalem, hence my protracted silence. One thing that our sojourn back in the familiar climes of California underscored for both Wendy and me was the fact that no matter how much we enjoyed being with family and friends and how “at home” we felt in those accustomed surroundings, Jerusalem is really home to us now. Celebrating our second anniversary as Israelis on July 7th away from Israel just didn’t seem right to us. It felt so good to get back home again.

When we returned from our first trip in June, I received a phone call asking me if I would join the faculty at the Hebrew Union College—Jewish Institute of Religion to teach liturgy as a sabbatical replacement for the coming year. Realizing that I would have to spend much of my second trip to Los Angeles gathering and preparing class readings and materials, I nonetheless could not resist the temptation to get back into the classroom.

This past week the College has interrupted the regular curriculum and class schedule to prepare the students for the upcoming High Holy Days with a special Elul program. Elul is the Hebrew month that precedes the advent of the Days of Awe—Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur—and is traditionally a period of preparation, reflection, prayer and repentance in anticipation of the holy days ahead. Among Sephardic Jews, every night during the month of Elul beginning in the wee hours after midnight through dawn special penitential prayers called Selichot are recited. Ashkenazic Jews recite their Selichot on the Saturday night prior to Rosh Hashanah (at least three days prior to the new moon of the month of Tishri). The High Holy Days don’t “just happen,” they take preparation, concentration and dedication if they are to have any spiritual value and efficacy.

During our Elul program we presented a “walk through” the liturgies of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur for the students to give them a deeper appreciation and understanding of the prayer services of the holy days. In keeping with my approach to Jewish liturgy in general, I described to my students how the liturgy is by no means a random compilation of prayers, poetry and readings piled upon each other over the centuries like the strata of an archaeological dig. On the contrary, a better way to view the liturgy of our tradition is to see it as a magnificent symphony, carefully orchestrated with recurring themes, distinctive movements and clear voices. Unlike a symphony, it is not the work of one composer, but the result of many hands and hearts working together in a unique harmony.

Viewed from this perspective our liturgy is a kind of tone poem weaving together the collective, aspirations and fears, triumphs and tragedies, strengths and foibles, spirituality and human frailty of our people. It sings of our past and to our future; it cries for our dead and praises God for the gift of life. It takes us up and down and up again from hope to despair to hope again as we consider the human condition, our own humanity and sinful frailty and the enormous God-given power we have been granted to effect change in our lives and in our world through repentance/accepting responsibility, prayer/resolving how to effect necessary change, and righteous action/implementing those changes. Our liturgy helps me get a perspective on the “now” and see it in a much broader perspective.

As I look back on the year that has past it seems to unfold like a kind of litany of woe—the tumultuous aftermath of the Second Lebanese War; the scandals that have beset our government at the highest levels; the violent take over of Hamas in Gaza; the daily Kassam bombardment of Sderot and other towns in the Negev while the world remains silent; Iran’s nuclear threat growing more ominous and its verbal threats more odious, raising no one’s ire but our own; the revelation that there are neo-Nazi gangs from the Former Soviet Union right here in Israel. And this is just from the Israeli news!

There is, indeed, much that is troubling in the news right now, but the is also much that bears the promise of hope. Olmert and Abbas are very close—so rumors and news pundits tells us—to producing an outline of principals for the upcoming meeting in November based upon the near-agreement proposed by President Clinton at Camp David and an unsigned agreement between Yossi Beilin and Abbas subsequent to the Camp David proposals. What may prove to be most significant about the hoped-for November meetings (if they materialize) will be the presence of the Saudis. Their very attendance may have more significance than any specific proposals that may emerge from the confab.

The Israeli economy is still growing despite the upheaval that is coursing through the American and European financial markets. Our financial czar, Stanley Fischer, the Governor of the Bank of Israel, assures us that Israeli banks and financial institutions have pretty much kept themselves away from the sub-prime fiasco. There is much promise on the economic horizon.

Yes, there is much in the news these days…bad news, good news…all kinds of news. But, if you really want to know what has been eating up the column inches in our newspapers of late, here is the real scoop—

This year, 5768 on the Jewish calendar is a biblically ordained sabbatical year (Ex. 23:10-11). That means that no annual crops may be grown on jewishly owned land within the borders of the Land of Israel. That means that only imported produce and that gown on land owned by non-Jews may be consumed by those who observe the laws of the sabbatical year (an important issue in the kosher laws). Thus any market, restaurant, hotel or any other public establishment that requires kosher certification, must make sure that its source for produce complies with the laws of the sabbatical year. Now, to complicate matters, there are several kosher-certifying bodies here in Israel. The largest two are the Chief Rabbinate, the official governmental body (supposedly representing the interests of the general public in matters of Jewish Law) and the other is BaDaTz that represents the anti-Zionist ultra-orthodox communities—there are more certifiers, but these are the main two.

Heretofore, over the past many, many decades, the Chief Rabbinate has gotten around the laws of the sabbatical year by means of a legal loophole called a heter mechira in which Jewish-owned land was “sold” to a non-Jew for the duration of the sabbatical year, thus allowing Jewish farmers to work the land and Jewish consumers to purchase and use the produce. Those who were more stringent were free to purchase produce only from non-Jewish and imported sources, and these products were so designated in the stores. Everyone was happy and a viable solution was realized, right? Wrong!

This year things changed…as the Eidah Haredit (the ultra-orthodox community) has gotten politically more powerful, it has gotten more brazen. Not satisfied with controlling its own community and what produce it consumes and has access to during the sabbatical year, the Eidah Haredit has put pressure on the Chief Rabbinate not to accept the time-honored heter mechira as a means to allow Israeli-grown produce to enter the markets this year. This will place a major financial burden upon the farmers forced to forego a year’s production income and impose additional costs on the non-Haredi Israeli consumer who will be forced to pay higher prices for imported products and restaurant bills.

Now the Chief Rabbinate is in a bind, it cannot do away completely with the heter mechira, after all, it made it official in the first place under Israeli law, nor can it resist completely the enormous pressures of the Eidah Haredit who hold considerable political clout. So, what did the Chief Rabbinate decide to do this year? They maintained the heter mechira however they allowed the district rabbi in every locality to decide for himself whether or not he would allow it to be used. That means that in some localities where there is a secular majority, such as Herzliya where very few citizens even care about whether or not their produce has the heter or not, only produce that meets ultra-orthodox standards may be sold. If a restaurant refuses to use the more expensive products (often at the risk of their slim profit margins) they will forfeit their kosher certification. In other words, the Chief Rabbinate—a governmental institution—is being dictated to by an anti-Zionist body and failing to enforce its own policies in the interests of the state and its citizenry because of the coercion of a small but politically power minority. The issue is now being brought before the High Court of Justice…

So, when you consider that we spend so much time and energy worrying about the kashrut of a banana, the rantings of an Iranian lunatic pale by comparison, don’t they?

You know, I am really looking forward to sitting back and enjoying the symphony of my High Holy Days services this year…I need the perspective.

To you and yours, Wendy and I send our best wishes for a happy, healthy and fulfilling New Year and may you be inscribed in the Book of Life with signatures of blessing.

Tizku le-shanim rabot! Shanah Tovah u-metukah!

Shalom from Jerusalem.

A Country Comes to a Standstill

2007-04-16T12:44:00.000+03:00

April 16, 2007
28 Nisan 5767

A notice appeared in our mailboxes last week. It informed all citizens that a representative of the Home Guard would be calling during this coming week between the hours 16:15 and 21:45 (military time, of course) to pick up each family’s emergency kit—including gas masks and other protective paraphernalia—providing a receipt to pick up a new kit at a local distribution center.

Well, as new immigrants, we don’t have an emergency kit! All this time we have been exposed to danger, falsely clinging to the illusion that the “bomb shelter” in our apartment (yes, we have a room right here, I’m sitting in it now, typing away) would provide ample protect should—heaven forefend—a katyusha, scud or other projectile land on us.

I guess the friendly representative from the Home Guard will present us with a coupon to get our “new” issue emergency kit. I plan to get the gas mask model for bearded men, a very popular design here in Israel. Given so much saber rattling from Iran, Hamas and—recently from Gaza— al Qaeda, maybe an emergency kit isn’t such a bad idea.

Today at precisely 10:00 AM a siren sounded. Now, with the threats from all around us you might think that we would head straight into our secure room, not exactly. Last night began what in Israel we call our national “Days of Awe,” or “High Holy Days”—the commemorations from Yom HaShoah ve-HaGevurah (Holocaust Memorial Day) through Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day) and culminating with Yom HaAtzma’ut (Independence Day). During Yom HaShoah and Yom HaZikaron all Jewish places of entertainment are closed. With the exception of the few foreign stations, all broadcast channels on radio and television play only programs appropriate to the themes of memorial—about the Holocaust on Yom HaShoah and about the struggles for Israel’s survival on Yom HaZikaron. Finally, with the fading of the sun at the close of Memorial Day, the celebrations begin as the BBQ’s light up and the bands begin to play as we begin the festivities of Yom HaAtzma’ut.

That siren at 10:00 AM marked the solemn minute when the entire country stops—traffic, commerce, teaching, everything—and people stand at attention in sacred memory of those who died during the Shoah.

It is an amazing sight. On the streets everything comes to a standstill. The traffic stops (even on the highways) and people get out of their cars to stand for the duration of the siren’s blast. The ubiquitous cell phones attached to the ears of most Israelis come away (disconnected?) and there is reverent silence for one minute. I have never seen anything like it anywhere else.

This morning Wendy and I decided to take a walk so that we would be out and about when the sirens went off. At precisely 10:00 AM we heard the piercing sounds. We were sitting on a low wall at an intersection near our home and immediately stood at attention—even Kipper seemed to sense the solemnity of the moment and didn’t squirm about. Cars stopped in the street and the drivers got out. Pedestrians stood in their places. The huge industrial cranes (Israel’s “national bird”) ceased their load-bearing motion in mid-air. Everything stopped—almost.

We watched, and it was interesting to see who continued about their business while the rest of us stood at attention. Arab cars continued past (it was obvious as the women were wearing Muslim head coverings). But, also moving about normally were what appeared to be Europeans (or Americans) who make up the many foreign diplomats, NGO workers, and UN employees that live in our neighborhood. It struck me that as all-encompassing, as this moment of memory was it was not universal.

Quite frankly, I can understand why our neighbors might not stop when the siren sounds next week in memory of those fallen in Israel’s wars (a clearly national commemoration), but this silent vigil was in memory of the victims of the Shoah! Isn’t the message of the Shoah universal? Is the Holocaust only a Jewish memory?

The front page of today’s Jerusalem Post carried the headline, ‘Worldwide violence against Jews surging.’ The study conducted by Tel Aviv University, notes that the change in the nature of the incidents as well as the number is cause for concern. Now, more and more, people as well as property are the targets.

In an op-ed piece in the same paper, Manfred Gerstenfeld writes of the distortions of Holocaust memory. First is what he calls “Holocaust promotion,” encouraging the extermination of Jews to finish Hitler’s work. This is manifested in some neo-Nazi groups and in extremist voices from the Muslim world. Next he cites “Holocaust justification,” suggesting that the Jews were responsible for their own destruction.

Gerstenfeld suggests that this view is promoted by many of those who seek the destruction of the State of Israel. Then there is outright Holocaust denial—those who claim that the Holocaust is a Jewish lie. A not-too-subtle variant is “Holocaust depreciation,” which belittles the severity of the Holocaust, suggesting that reports of the extermination of Jews were “exaggerated.” Another category is “Holocaust equivalence,” alleging that the Nazi’s behavior was similar to the actions of the Allies such as the bombings of Dresden and Hiroshima. Then there is “Holocaust inversion,” which targets Israel and Israelis claiming that Israelis have become the Nazis of today. Holocaust inversion has made major inroads in the Western world and is being used to legitimize the very existence of the State of Israel today.

As Gerstenfeld notes, “Portraying Israel as a Nazi state enables its enemies to kill three birds with one stone.” It delegitimizes Israel by associating it with a symbol of ultimate evil; it allows for attacks against Jews by equating them with the perpetrators of evil and genocide; and, it frees Europeans of remorse and shame for their history of lethal anti-Semitism going back many centuries.

If the truth be told, most of the world is sick and tired hearing about the Holocaust. It seems that we Jews are obsessed with it. That may be why many of the non-Jews living and working in Israel may not have stopped when the siren sounded (though many, I am absolutely sure, did). And that, my friends, is why we must continue to remember.

Those who remember the Shoah first-hand are almost gone now. Of the 110 eyewitnesses who testified at Adolf Eichmann’s trial, only ten are alive today. If we do not remember the lessons of the Shoah then “Never Again” will become an empty slogan with as much moral meaning as “Drink Coca Cola.”

That is why it is so enormously important that—at least in one place on earth—almost an entire nation comes to a standstill for one moment in sacred memory. And for a full day a people that loves to party refrains from cafes and restaurants, gives up on shopping and outings, and watches documentaries and memorials instead of The Simpsons and Seinfeld. It is just one of the many things about Israel that make it so unique—and why I live here.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

The Messiah on Wheels

2007-04-06T15:37:00.000+03:00

April 6, 2007
18 Nisan 5767

Today is the Shabbat of Passover. On Christian calendars it is Good Friday. The confluence of these holy days is all the more remarkable because, this year, both the eastern and western rites of Christianity will be celebrating Easter Sunday on the same day. We Jews are not the only ones who get involved in the intricacies of lunar and solar cycles, so, too, do our Christian and Muslim neighbors. Following two different calendars, western and eastern Christians celebrate their major holy days of Easter and Christmas often weeks apart but this year, all celebrate Easter this Sunday just as we Jews bid farewell to our Passover festival. For we Jerusalemites that means that our city is the sacred destination of thousands of pilgrims as it has been at this season for millennia. The faithful and the curious, Christians and Jews alike, have been converging upon the Holy City this whole week to the delight of the merchants—Christians, Jews and Muslims who welcome the refreshing stream of visitors and shoppers after the long draught of the Intifada.

Jerusalem has been the destination of pilgrims since the days before the Bible entered the religious imagination of the people who gave it to the world. According to Jewish tradition the rock that crowns the Mount at its symbolic heart is Even ha-Sh’tiyah—the very foundation stone of the world. Thus it is believed that the mount upon which the Temple was built held sacred significance before David conquered the city and Solomon built the House of God there. Mount Moriah, the place where Abraham was to sacrifice Isaac as told in Genesis, is identified with that hill, thus making the patriarch the first pilgrim to Jerusalem in Jewish tradition. Since the Temple was built, Jews have been bound in sacred covenant with this place; commanded to appear three times a year at the festival times of Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot, to bring their festival thanksgiving offerings to God—in pilgrimage, a sacred journey. In Hebrew we call these festivals the Regalim from the word for feet, because of the walking that was required to reach the Holy City.

For hundreds and thousands of years, Jews and then Christians have made their way on foot from their homes, often across seas and even continents, to express their devotion to their faith and draw strength and inspiration from the holy stones of this sacred city.

During this, our second Passover in Jerusalem, Wendy and I decided to make a kind of mini-pilgrimage from our home over-looking the Old City, down Hebron Road to the ancient walled town some two miles below. It was an incredibly beautiful spring day; the weather was clement and the wildflowers spread a beautiful carpet in the empty lots and open spaces along our way. We made our way past the old British prison at the top of the hill near the derelict train station (just waiting for restoration—it’s bones are so good) and then began our descent past the Hinnom Valley (Gai Hinom in Hebrew, which became Gehenna in Greek, and is the Biblical metaphorical source for the post-Biblical concept of Hell in Christianity and the divergent concept of Gehinom in Judaism).

Before too long (it was mostly downhill at this point as you would expect of a descent into Hell…but paved with Jerusalem stone, not good intentions) we found ourselves at the foot of the city walls. We decided to make our way along the walls up to Mount Zion and into the Zion Gate in order to avoid the crowds that we knew would be massed at the Jaffa Gate. We were rewarded not only by lighter crowds, but also by a spectacular view of the valley below and of the terraced gardens from Mount Zion above us.

Once we entered the Old City through the Zion Gate the human crush of the crowds and the cacophony of people speaking in a dozen different languages engulfed us immediately. We hadn’t seen Jerusalem like this in years! Slowly we elbowed our way through the snaking throng and made our way to the Cardo, the ancient Roman commercial street in the Jewish Quarter, covered over now and restored as a shopping area. We were hoping to find some wedding gifts and decided to look in on two of our friends who had stores along the street. Both were very busy, a real change from recent years and we were happy to wait before speaking with our friends. At the shop of Ezra Dayafani, a scribe who does beautiful calligraphy, illuminated manuscripts and work in silver, I got to help out, relieving his assistant by translating for some customers so she could wait on the many customers that were converging on the tiny shop. That was a real treat for me.

Ezra doesn’t just make and sell scribal artwork: each Torah scroll, every set of Tefillin (phylacteries), his illuminated works and manuscripts are works of his soul as well as his hands. A British family came in to buy a set of Tefillin for their son who would become a Bar Mitzvah this coming November. In keeping with his soul-filled approach to his work, Ezra sat with the family and explained each and every step of the process of making the Tefillin and described how the scrolls they contained were written and explained the significance of the shapes of the letters inscribed upon the parchment. As Ezra explained in Hebrew, I translated into English for the family. I also added editorially that Ezra made a set of Tefillin for me (a gift from Wendy when I turned 50 to replace my old set) I told them that every time I put Tefillin on for prayer, I could sense Ezra’s kavannah—his devotional concentration, as he inscribed the scrolls and made the leather boxes to contain them. I was moved to help this family; they must have been moved by Ezra’s gentle piety as well because the father decided to buy a second set for himself.

Wendy and made our own purchases at Ezra’s and decided to leave them at the shop to be picked up next week when we found out that the unusually large crowds meant that there was no bus or taxi service in or out of the Jewish quarter and we’d probably have to walk all the way—uphill—back home.

This time we were brave—or foolhardy—and began to trek up through the main streets of the Old City. For those who have never visited our city, please don’t be mistaken, when I use the term “main streets” I do not mean “highway” or any other broad boulevard or, even, “street” by usual connotation. Most of the streets of the Old City are through the Suk (Arabic for market)—stepped paths lined by shops and stalls selling an incredible array of tourist items, antiquities (many right out of the kiln), fabrics, bric-a-brac, spices, meats (a nice camel’s head, perhaps), jewelry, pastries, you name it… Vendors yelling and cajoling, guides barking their spiels in Spanish, French, English and even Nigerian—all part of the river of humanity, and we were salmon swimming upstream while, so it seemed, the river was as rivers do flowing emphatically downward. We struggled and we strove with all our might until we emerged, finally and triumphantly at the Jaffa Gate to begin our ascent to our home in Talpiyot once more past Gehenna to our heavenly view of the Holy City. Our pilgrimage was completed just like those of millions of Olei Regel—pilgrims both Jewish and Christian—before us.

Looking at the faces of my fellow pilgrims I can imagine that little has changed in the millennia that have passed since the first pilgrim set foot upon Jerusalem’s sacred soil. They were flushed with the experience of Jerusalem. It is soulfully intoxicating. And in the millennia since the first pilgrims, pilgrimage and religious tourism have been and, I suppose, always will be Jerusalem’s major industry. The shops and commercial life of the city have always revolved around the visitors who come here to bask in the special spiritual atmosphere that is so unique to this place. As a result, over the centuries, a variety of entrepreneurs have cropped up to take advantage of the influx of tourists to find new ways to separate them from the contents of the pilgrimage purses.

For Christian tourists, especially at this time of the year, some of the shopkeepers along the Via Dolorosa—the traditional path that Jesus took to Calvary—rent wooden crosses for the faithful to carry on their own journey to the place where Jesus was crucified. These crosses (much smaller and lighter than the original) have been modified by some creative shopkeeper who has added wheels to the bottom of the crosses making them easier to carry along the journey.

Not to be outdone, for Jewish pilgrims there are also wheeled innovations. The City of David Foundation rents for Olei Regel who don’t want to use their regalim (feet) the patented Segway. Now, if you are not familiar with this device, it is a two-wheeled scooter upon which you stand. The wheels are on either side of you and the machine moves in whichever direction you lean. It sounds completely unsafe and unstable, however, gyroscopes in the mechanism keep it upright at all times and even the very young, the very old and very uncoordinated can use it. Not only does this obviate your need to walk, your feet don’t even have to touch the ground as you glide your way on your pilgrimage!

Christian pilgrims have been emulating Jesus’ march to Calvary burdened by the cross for centuries. Jews have made the journey by foot to Jerusalem as long as Judaism has existed as a faith. Jews and Christians, consider what our forbears—those ancient pilgrims—would have thought of all these wheels! Whether one’s faith anticipates the advent of the Messiah for the first or second time, can you for a moment, in your wildest imagination picture the Messiah on wheels? What would this mean? How would this alter faith? How would it change the world?

I think that I will continue to make my own pilgrimages on foot without wheels of any kind, thank you. In some things I am still a traditionalist. Besides, I would be too worried about falling from one of those Segway things and miss out on all the beautiful scenery along the way. One of the wonderful things about our religious traditions is that they teach us to slow down, to appreciate the world and those who inhabit it. Pilgrimages help us literally to step out of the everyday hustle and bustle of our lives and to take an alternate route—even if only for a brief time—as we journey through life. I highly recommend the excursion.

A happy Passover and a happy Easter to those who celebrate.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Getting Along Like Cats and Dogs

2007-04-06T12:17:00.000+03:00

April 2, 2007
14 Nisan 5767

It is the 14th of Nisan (the month formerly known as Datsun), the month of Spring, as it is known in the Bible, the first month on the Hebrew calendar and the month in which we celebrate Passover arguably the most important holy day in the sacred cycle of the Jewish year. On Passover we celebrate our liberation from Egyptian slavery more than 3,500 years ago and in the dramatic retelling of the Haggadah narrative we rehearse the ancient story whose message is as fresh today as the greens we eat to remind us of the hope that story inspires. No Jewish holiday, neither Shabbat nor even Hanukah is as universally observed, as is Passover. Such is the compelling power of freedom’s story.

Passover is the national story—the defining mythos—of the Jewish people. Formerly a nomadic loosely confederated band of clans—slaves among slaves to the Egyptians—we emerged from bondage to begin a journey towards freedom and national identity culminating with the revelation of Torah on Mount Sinai. There, upon the flinty rocks of Sinai a nation and a people—Israel—were forged, and there our destiny was made manifest. So powerful was the Exodus that each Shabbat, each holy day is another reminder—a zecher lizi’at Mitzra’im—commemorating the Exodus from Egypt. And every Passover we literally relive the experience as the Haggadah exhorts us, “In every generation everyone is to view themselves as if they personally left Egypt.”

Passover, of course, focuses upon the Exodus, the escape. Only the beginning of the story relates the hundreds of years of our sojourn in Egypt (the numbers of years is debated by scholars both ancient and modern). At first we were welcomed to Egypt, in fact, it was our salvation. There was famine in the land of Canaan the home of our patriarch Jacob and his growing clan; only Egypt provided hope against almost certain starvation. Thanks to Joseph (assimilated into the “Egyptian” Zaphenath-paneah, vizier to Pharaoh), the Hebrews found refuge and succor in Egypt.

However, all was not perfect. Towards the end of the story of Jacob and Joseph in Genesis we are told that our Hebrew forebears were settled in the land of Goshen because it was most suitable for their flocks and herds. It was far away from Pharaoh and most Egyptians, “For all shepherds are abhorrent to Egyptians (Genesis 46:34).” You see, it seems that much before a pharaoh arose “who knew not Joseph” and enslaved the Hebrews there was ill will between our ancestors and their Egyptian neighbors. Why? Our ancestors were shepherds. The ancient Egyptians counted the ram among their gods, perhaps these nomadic shepherds who raised sheep (for food) were abhorrent to the Egyptians.

If we symbolize the Egyptians by one of their other gods—the cat, and the Hebrews by the shepherd’s trusted companion—the dog, it might be fair to characterize the ancient relationship between the two peoples as being like that between cats and dogs—they simply could not get along. Just like cats and dogs, fighting and enmity, territoriality and tension have defined their age-old relationship. And so, it seems, this animal drama has played on fairly consistently throughout history from generation to generation from era to era.

We tell our story of the Exodus, the Egyptians have theirs. In ancient tales, going back at least 2,300 years tracing back at least to the account of the Greek historian Hecataeus of Abdera around 300 B.C.E. (drawing from earlier Egyptian sources) the Jews were kicked out of Egypt as the source of a plague. They were led out by a man named Moses (whom later sources identify with an Egyptian priest named Osarseph) and resettled in Judea. In their story the Hebrews are the villains, not the liberated. As they told it, Moses was a renegade, and God had nothing to do with the Exodus at all (which is probably why our rabbis chose to leave Moses out of the Haggadah—except for one passing reference—and emphasized God’s role). Cats and dogs.

Earlier, in the 7th century B.C.E. a Jewish garrison colony was set up by the Persians in Egypt at Elephantine. It even had its own functioning temple carrying out many of the same sacral rites as the Temple in Jerusalem until it was destroyed some two hundred years later by the Jews’ Egyptian neighbors. Some of the Egyptians’ calumnies against the Jews at that time sound very much like those cited later by Hecataeus. Cats and dogs.

In 110 C.E. the Egyptians and Greeks in Alexandria dredged up these stories again to “prove” to the Roman rulers that the Jews followed the strange laws given by Moses that were contrary to Roman law and unlike the laws of any other peoples. So much mischief resulted that there was an uprising by the Jews in that city that spread through many Greek-speaking Jewish communities in the Roman Empire during the reign of the Emperor Trajan. Cats and dogs.

There have been periods—very long periods—when the cats and dogs have gotten along fairly well together. Alexandria (the same Alexandria mentioned above) has historically been a model of cosmopolitan sophistication and even tolerance. Elsewhere in Egypt, Maimonides found refuge in Fostat (near modern day Cairo) when he was forced to flee his native Spain). In fact, up until the advent of Zionism and the modern state of Israel, Jews have played a significant role in the cultural and commercial life of Egypt. The cats and dogs have at least called a truce at times.

In 1948 with the establishment of the State of Israel (the modern incarnation of the Exodus as a defining moment in the national identity of the Jewish people) the cats and dogs were at it again. The fighting came to a climax in 1956 following the Suez War when the ancient Jewish community of Egypt was forced to pack up and leave the homes and businesses behind and become refugees in an exodus not of their choosing. Tens of thousands of Jewish refugees became homeless leaving behind them assets worth millions upon millions of dollars in the currency of the day. Cats and dogs.

However, unlike those Jews uprooted decades before in Europe, the Jews of Egypt had a home waiting for them—Israel. Many chose other destinations: Europe, the United States, Mexico and South America. But, for any and all who sought refuge and a welcoming home, Israel opened its heart to them. This is a fulfillment of the Passover promise of redemption.

And there are more promises in the Passover story I believe. Let me share another, perhaps more fanciful story, a kind of fable if you will.

Last October Wendy discovered a black cat in our entry. There are many feral cats in Jerusalem; they rummage through the garbage, hunt vermin and eye humans with a great deal of wary suspicion. But this black beauty wasn’t one of those wild ones. It was obvious that she had once been a house cats. And more, she was obviously “with kittens.” Wendy, God bless her, took pity upon the little mother-to-be and began feeding her—much to my chagrin, as I do not like cats (I am quite allergic to them); I am distinctly one of the dogs. Nature, being nature and taking its course, she eventually gave birth in our planter box to three kittens. And Wendy continued to bring food and milk, promising me that she would stop her ministrations as soon as we left for our trip to California in November. True to her word, she stopped—I emphasize that she stopped—actually, she hired the boy who watered our houseplants to continue the feeding, “just until the kittens are big enough to take care of themselves. Otherwise they’ll starve!”

This continued until January. Now we were buying sacks of cat food in addition to our monthly ration of dog food for Kipper. One day we found that one of the females was no longer to be counted among the little family; in Jerusalem this is not an uncommon fate as outdoor cats have a very low survival rate—we chose not to speculate upon its fate. Then Wendy left for a conference in California in January and left instructions for me to feed the cats. Now remember, I do not like cats—at all, nor, I might add, does Kipper. We’ve always suspected that he was part cat (a “dat” perhaps, half dog half cat), because of the way he acted so cat-like for a dog. But this is where the story gets interesting.

Not being one to ignore instructions from Wendy (unless absolutely necessary, of course), I dutifully prepared the cat food and brought it down to the little feline family as I took Kipper for his daily afternoon constitutional. It was about two days into this routine that something strange began to happen.

At first, the cats would begin to look for us (obviously looking out for the meal) then they began to follow us out onto the sidewalk. And, as for Kipper, he acted strangely himself. His fur didn’t go up in aggression and he didn’t growl at them. He almost seemed to—dare I say it—accept their presence in his domain. Gradually, little by little, the little family ventured farther and farther along the walk with us until, by the fourth or fifth day, two of the three cats accompanied us on the whole walk. Now picture this: here we are, me and this oversized Chihuahua walking down the sidewalk with an honor-guard of two cats right next to us—what a sight!

And, it gets even better…now the cats look for Kipper to go for a walk (even when it isn’t suppertime) and Kipper looks for them. They actually seem to like each other! The cats still don’t like other dogs (they run right away when one approaches) and Kipper seems to hold other cats in as much contempt as ever, but our happy family seems to get along just fine, thank you.

So, what does this mean? Well, if Kipper (of all dogs) can get along with cats, maybe it is possible for human dogs and cats to be liberated from the enslaving bonds of enmity which restrict and conflict them. We desperately need such transformative redemption now every bit as much as in ancient days.

Today our news is filled with hopeful possibilities for diplomatic breakthroughs emanating from the Arabic world—from Saudi Arabia in particular—tenuous and fragile as the overtures maybe they are at least cause for hope. At the same time we have more cat howls and screeches from other quarters in our region—from Iran and (unfortunately) even Egypt. And, here at home, we have our shares of barking dogs that see any concession or compromise as a sign of weakness and capitulation.

I hope and pray the Kipper and the cats are a harbinger of better times when even traditional enmities can be put aside—not without caution perhaps, but with a measure of mutual respect. Cats and dogs…if they can do it, why can’t we?

I wish you and yours a happy holy day of spring renewal.

Shalom from Jerusalem

Purim Fantasies

2007-03-04T12:48:00.000+02:00

March 4, 2007
14 Adar 5767

Although it has been more than a year and a half since Wendy and I made Aliyah, I continue to be enthralled by the fact that we live at the very epicenter of world events. Moreover, being an historian, I am captivated by the confluence of ancient historical events and the stories that break on the front pages of the print media and make the opening reports on the nightly news. And these things are happening right here, right in our own backyard!

Take the latest cause celebre to capture the attention of the entire world…at least for the moment. Tonight (primetime Sunday evening) much of the world will tune in to a documentary on a discovery so world shaking, so startling, so revolutionary that it challenges the very foundations of Christianity itself! And this discovery was made right in my own neighborhood! How do you like that!

According to the producers of this documentary, archaeologists discovered the very tomb of Jesus and his family including his wife Mary (Magdalene) and his son, Judah as well as his mother and brother. Now, that my friends is some discovery!!! And it was found in East Talpiyot, a residential neighborhood in Jerusalem’s southern district. Well, Wendy and I live in North Talpiyot, just a stone’s throw away from this history-making (or, history re-making) discovery. Think of it, if this tomb really is that of Jesus and his family, then there was no resurrection, no Easter, in fact, no Christianity. No wonder Christians all over the world are up in arms over this documentary and the potential damage it could cause. Wow, a regular theological 9/11! Yup, it is really causing quite a stir that’s for sure and the epicenter is right here, incredible.

But, not meaning to spoil all the excitement and hullabaloo, there are a few problems. The “documentary” may be making its debut tonight, but the tomb was discovered twenty years ago. It was uncovered during routine archaeological excavations carried out whenever construction sites reveal any evidence of antiquities. When the East Talpiyot neighborhood was being developed such excavations were conducted and the tomb was revealed, cataloged and that was it…until the documentarians got a hold of it after the “Dan Brown Syndrome” had affected the sense and sensibilities of the world.

Ever since the fantastic success of The Da Vinci Code the public has developed and insatiable appetite for sensationalist quasi-historical proof that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene and fathered children. And, because of the financial success of The Da Vinci Code would-be Dan Browns have sought the Holy Grail of gain in promoting such fantasies wrapped in the sacred mantle of “historical proofs.” And now, archaeology, Israel’s respected historical tool, is brought to bear as evidence that fantasies are facts.

It doesn’t seem to matter to all those curious masses wantonly waiting by their plasma TV’s that none of the archaeologists who actually discovered the tomb agree with the ridiculous claims made by the producers of the fake-u-mentary. That doesn’t seem to daunt the docu-deceivers; they display evidence of ossuaries bearing the names of Jesus, Mary, Mary (one, ostensibly Magdalene, the other, the mother of Jesus), Joseph, Judah son of Jesus, etc. —all “proving” that the tomb was the tomb of Jesus and his family. If this sounds convincing, it ignores (or at least overlooks) the nature of ancient Jewish burial customs in the first and second centuries of the Common Era.

In those times tombs were shared by generations of a clan. A body was placed in a burial niche in a cave (natural or carved from the limestone rock). When the next person required occupancy in the niche, the former tenant’s bones—by now cleaned of flesh by exposure to the elements and flesh-eating creepy crawlers—were placed in a personal ossuary housed in the tomb along with others from the clan. Thus, it would be difficult to tell if ossuaries found in the same tomb were from one generation or several. Given that the names on the ossuaries found at the excavation in East Talpiyot are some of the most common names in Jewish tradition, it is almost impossible to identify them or their exact relationship to each other, except to say that they were most likely from the same clan. So much for exacting scientific and historical proof that the tomb was that of Jesus and his family.

It seems that the makers of the documentary were not interested in facts getting in the way of a good story, but such is the nature of fantasy, isn’t it? And anyway, this is the season of fantasy—it’s Purim!

Purim celebrates fantasy…we dress up in make-believe costumes, pretending to be people that we are not. We hide behind masks, allowing us to display outrageous behavior that we would not dare at any other time, safe in the realization that it’s just once a year.

We recall the Purim story and the ancient threat to our people by the villainous Haman retold in the Book of Esther. Haman was an Aggagite, a descendant of Amalek the ancient enemy of the Jews. Interesting, here was Haman, an Amalekite, trying to pass himself off as a loyal Persian so as to call into question the loyalty of the Jews—evil masquerading as good to work its mischief.

Hmmm, history does, it seem, repeat itself. Here we have the President of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, a Persian this time, a Muslim masquerading as the champion of the Arab Middle East, again bent on the destruction of the Jews (or, at least by his own admission, the Jewish State of Israel). Once again, evil masquerading as good to achieve its mischief, weaving fantasies and lies (denying the Holocaust, blaming all the problems of the Middle East on the existence of Israel) into a distorted perversion of the truth. Time will tell if Ahmadinejad’s fantasies will bring about his downfall as they did Haman before him. History indeed seems to repeat itself. I wonder if we will find an Esther to save us this time?

If we do, we’d better not look to her namesake, our own infamous Esther…Esterina Tratman, number two in the Israel Beiteinu party, member of the Knesset, erstwhile candidate for Minister of Tourism and resident voice of racism in the Knesset. It seems that little Esterina is no stranger to the siren’s lure of fantasy and its corrupting influences. Ever since her appearance on the political scene, she was touted by her party and by its star, Avigdor Lieberman for her financial acumen and her managerial background backed by academic credentials including both bachelors and masters degrees in economics and business. Well, as it turns out, the mendacious matron failed to mention that she never enrolled in either Bar Ilan University or Hebrew University as previously claimed or ever earned a bachelors degree let alone a masters…it was all, well, a fantasy. But, instead of fessing up to her fictions, she lashed out at the media for conducting a witch-hunt and for smearing her because the “liberal media” disagreed with her political views. Yeah, right.

Fantasy is a wonderful thing, it allows us to break away from the confines of our super ego-controlled conformity and let our imaginative selves soar a bit. We need fantasy to add leavening to our imaginations, to spark our creativity, to inspire and to excite us. But fantasy left unfettered by reality can be destructive, it can be downright evil.

Purim is great. In fact, most people don’t understand that Purim is needed more by adults than by children. Children have a natural gift for fantasy and make-believe. Children have no qualms about being creative, about painting a sky green or pretending to be a lion for a while. It’s adults who’ve allowed themselves to forget fantasy who really need Purim, but every day can’t be Purim.

The problem with people like the makers of the film about Jesus’ tomb, Ahmadinejab and Esterina Tratman is that they let fantasy take over when reality stares them coldly in the face and they refuse to see it. For them, they can’t remove the Purim mask; maybe they don’t think that it is a mask. And that is their tragedy.

So, go ahead, enjoy Purim, have fun, drink a little, fantasize but remember to take off your mask!

Hag Purim Same’ah! And shalom from Jerusalem.

“At Long Last a Clear Victory”

2007-01-25T11:09:00.000+02:00

January 24, 2007

Reading today’s newspaper it smacks me in the face that this is unfolding as a particularly difficult week for us Israelis—old timers and newly minted alike. Never really hardened to fighting for our survival, we are waging battles on a variety of fronts.

Our military continues to reel from the aftershocks of the Second Lebanon War of this past summer. Certainly grave mistakes were made in the prosecution of the war and the readiness of our forces (especially the reserves) for battle. Last week Israel’s Chief of the General Staff Dan Halutz resigned to be replaced by Maj.-General Gabi Ashkenazi, described as “a soldier’s general,” in contrast to Halutz whose roots are in the elite air corps. Many analysts, both military and political, view the events of the summer as but a prelude to a second round of hostilities against Hizbollah next summer. We shall see if they are correct though everyone hopes not. Also on the military front, our soldiers and our civilians are challenged in the south against a daily barrage of Kassams from Gaza (despite a cease-fire declared by the Palestinians and observed solely by the Israelis), so far the restraint imposed by the political leadership is holding though near the breaking point.

Then there are the battles in the political sphere. Most notably, it appears that it is inevitable that indictments will be handed down against President Moshe Katsav accusing him of one count of rape and several lesser charges of sexual coercion and inappropriate sexual conduct against four other women as well as misuse of public funds for private gifts and obstruction of justice. Though he is scheduled to relinquish his office in July when his seven-year term comes to an end, it is very possible that Katsav will be Israel’s second president to end his tenure prematurely under a cloud of legal problems. Meanwhile, the Kadima-led government seems to flounder about as Prime Minister Olmert’s performance ratings continue their downward trend. Yet, problems in Likud, Kadima’s only serious rival, prevent the Right’s leading party from posing any significant threat to the coalition at the present time.

On the bureaucratic front, investigations continue exposing corruption in the Department of Taxation with the internal (revenue) rot apparently running to the very highest echelons. Israel’s once squeaky-clean civil bureaucracy has now become suspect and lost much of the public trust that it once enjoyed. And this may be only the tip of the iceberg of corruption in the civil service.

If these battles raging around us each and every day make it seem that we are besieged by problems too enormous to bear and which adumbrate the sure demise of Israeli society, please do not be misguided by what appears to be a jeremiad. In reality, the coin of these negatives has an obverse positive side for, if they expose weaknesses in the fabric of Israeli society, the fact that they are exposed and are being addressed in the open forum of public scrutiny is an indication of the strength—not the weakness—of this country. Such open confrontation to wrongdoing, misuse of power and bad planning by public officials makes Israel unique amongst the nations of the Middle East and, in fact amongst the nations of the world. And, only a nation that is willing to confront its problems and its shortcomings openly and honestly can over-come them.

And more, with all of these battles being waged, it is heartening to see that Israelis are—like most other people in the developed world (though, if truth be told, we’re more between the developed and semi-developed worlds)—concerned about simple everyday things like family, work, buying groceries, deciding where to go on vacation, trying to fathom how to program the VCR, and complaining about the price of a tank of gasoline. The “everyday battles” of life so familiar to Americans and Europeans also preoccupy most middle-class Israelis and bear eloquent witness to how “normal” the reality of our lives really is.

For the past several weeks the letters-to-the-editor columns of the Jerusalem Post have provided the forum for the vox populi of the Anglo-Israeli community protesting against the draconian actions of the Hot cable company in its decision to discontinue offering the BBC Prime channel in its basic service and “compensating” subscribers with new Ethiopian and Chinese channels. But, that is not all, Israel’s satellite TV provider Yes-TV (coincidentally) announced that it was discontinuing the Star World channel which provides American television programs. Both Hot and Yes claim that their decisions to drop BBC-Prime (Hot) and Star World (Yes) were made for financial reasons as the channels would not renegotiate lower rates with the providers and neither Hot nor Yes determined that the “limited” viewership of these English-language channels warranted the high costs of service.

So—get this—Hot subscribers who wanted to protest the cable company’s decision to drop BBC Prime by switching to satellite would lose Star World while those satellite subscribers who wanted to register their dissatisfaction by switching to cable would lose BBC Prime. Does this smack of collusion on the part of the two companies—a cartel perhaps? Yes announced that it was going ahead with its plans to drop Star World by January 15^th, Hot scheduled to drop BBC Prime on February 1^st. The government business and media regulatory agencies averred that there was nothing illegal in the providers’ actions and there was nothing that the government could do to prevent them from proceeding with these business decisions. And there it stood.

Limited viewership? What about all the so-called “Anglos” in this country—all of us from English-speaking countries? How about all those Israelis who use the media to improve their English? Without BBC Prime or Star World, how would they get to enjoy re-runs of “Becker” or (my favorites) a variety of British programs that I describe as “dumb Brits making bad real estate decisions?” I did my own survey of our personal viewing habits and found that at least 75% of our viewing time was spent watching BBC Prime (not meaning to be un-patriotic, but most of the American programming on Star World is junk, I prefer the high-brow limey stuff). How could those heartless corporate suits (in Israel can you still call them “suits”?) get away with such larceny? Is this but a hopeless battle, a tilting at windmills?

And then, in today’s paper, there was that article on page 7 (if you ask me, it warranted front page coverage), “Hot keeps BBC Prime—But drops David Letterman.” Okay, I can accept the trade off, I hardly, if ever, watch Letterman anyway, at least I can still witness some poor dolt from Dorchester spending 450,000 quid for a bitty bungalow in Brighton. Sweet victory! We, the Hot subscribers won! But ours is not an absolute victory for our brothers and sisters in TV-arms—the Yes subscribers have not won their war against corporate greed, as of January 15^th the satellite tap to Star World has been shut off—no more “Cheers” re-runs and “Friends” is available exclusively on Israeli-channel 4. And what of those protesters who quit Hot and joined Yes over the threatened but unrealized loss of BBC Prime? Apparently, the magnates at Yes are not totally heartless, those who regret their hasty change-over will not be charged an installation fee for Yes unless they took advantage of a sales promotion. So, sometimes, the little guys win one.

Wars, social and political traumas, we have them aplenty—and amidst it all, we still worry about little things like what we watch on TV, go figure. What does that say about us? I think that it says that we are “normal people” despite the fact that we live in a place where life seems to be anything but “normal.” We live, much more than survive, and that says a lot about the resiliency and vitality of Israelis and Israeli society I think. People looking in on us from the outside might wonder how we get by, what keeps us from caving in to fear and despair. But, the view from here, from the inside is so very different. I find that I have a great appreciation for so much in my life here—even for the little things, even for what channels I get to watch on my TV. Sometimes the little things put the big things in perspective and sometimes it’s vice versa.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

“”Twas the Night Before Christmas”

2007-01-25T11:04:00.000+02:00

December 22, 2006

Something strangely quaint happened in line at the market checkout yesterday. Wendy and I were doing our usual pre-Shabbat Thursday shopping routine what it being Shabbat and Hanukah and all… Maneuvering the cart to the checkout I chose the one attended by my favorite clerk. She is a young Russian woman who always does her job with speed and efficiency all-the-while maintaining an air of cheerfulness despite the impatient crush of pre-Shabbat Jerusalem shoppers.

Just ahead of us in line was a middle-aged couple exuding that rarified aura that announced to the world without their having to say a single word, “We’re Americans!” Dress, body language and facial expression spoke more eloquently (and regionally) than speech. Not even assaying a few words in our ancient Semitic tongue, they addressed our lady of the register directly, “Nice to see you again!” Ah, so they were not complete strangers, but were acquainted—at least somewhat—with the Sylph of Super Deal, who, with her usual alacrity, executed her accounts and announced the tally courteously in English caressed by an accent reminiscent more of the Volga than the Jordan.

Their custom now completed, our American friends turned and smiling warmly saluted one and all, “Merry Christmas everyone!”

Merry Christmas!? We all looked quizzically at them. To whom did they address their good wishes—to me, to Wendy, to our clerk with her Star of David shining at them as prominently as any star of Bethlehem? Wendy was the first to respond. She said simply, “Happy Hanukah.” This seemed to awaken within them a realization of where in the world they found themselves at that moment in time at which point they said, “Oh yes, happy holidays everyone!” And then they left the store.

I suppose that this well-meaning couple simply greeted us out of sweet, loving reflex. They were being friendly. They were reacting out of the “holiday spirit.” But the incongruity of someone wishing people “Merry Christmas” at a Jerusalem market brought home another kind of reality for me. Here in the land where Christmas began, Christmas and the people who celebrate it are, quite nearly as possible, invisible.

At this very moment I am sitting a scant three kilometers (about two miles) from Bethlehem—the very place where Christian tradition relates that Jesus was born. That town and the church built around the little manger in which the Christian world’s Savior was born is the focal point of all the festivity, all the hoopla, all the media bombardment, the constant carols on the radio and the specials on television, the commercials and the sales, the prayers and the charity, the spirituality and the sacred works that make Christmas a holy day, as well as the holiday that it is for Christians.

Yes, here I am, just three kilometers away and absent is any sign of Christmas. No, that is not completely true. In the Jerusalem Post there has appeared a small advertisement placed by the Jerusalem municipality wishing the Christian community Merry Christmas and indicating where interested people can pick up a free Christmas tree as a gift from the city. But there aren’t any Christmas displays in store windows (except in the Old City), and no Christmas music on the radio, though you can see the occasional Christmas greeting and Christmas special on television broadcast from abroad. There are no Christmas lights on the streets, even though some of the Hanukah decorations can fool you. No, Christmas is definitely as nearly invisible as possible in this land where it all began. I feel for that couple at Super Deal, this must be a very lonely time of the year for them. Kind of like being Jewish in America during Christmas, only more so…

But, it is not just Christmas that is quite nearly invisible here in the birthplace of Christianity. Christians themselves are disappearing. By that I do not mean Christian tourists and pilgrims. Thankfully our Christian friends continue to show their loyal support by visiting the Holy Land. I only wish that our fellow Jews—especially liberal Jews—were as faithful in making pilgrimage to the Holy Land. No, I am referring to the Christians who live here and have dwelled in this land ever since the first followers of Jesus began their new faith. Their once significant presence in this land has been reduced to a mere remnant that is threatened by demographics with near extinction. That reality is a potential tragedy far more serious than the absence of Christmas trees and Christmas carols around December 25^th. And, it is a tragedy in the making that is generally under reported in the world’s media.

In 1950 Christians made up 15% to 20% of the Arab population of what is now Israel and the areas beyond the Green Line. Today, Christians number between 1.5% and 2% of the Arab population. Historically, the cities most closely associated with Jesus’ life and Christianity, Bethlehem and Nazareth, had sizeable Christian majorities. In 1948 the population of Bethlehem was 80% Christian and 20% Muslim, presently those numbers have reversed and the Christian population continues its exodus from the city. In Nazareth, following World War II the Christians accounted for 60% of the Arab population of the city, today they comprise only 30%.

To what do we attribute the depletion of the Christian population in their Holy Land?

Of course, there are no simple answers. Moreover, I am neither a demographer nor a sociologist. But anyone who is an observer of the social and political life that goes on around us and affects us and our neighbors can see clearly some of the more obvious factors that would contribute to the exodus of Christians from this area.

To be sure, the political unrest is a major factor. The Christian Arabs in the main identify as Palestinians and have suffered economically and socially as have Muslim Palestinians as a result of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Yet statistically, far more Christians than Muslims have left, why? Demographically more Christian Arabs than Muslim Palestinians come from higher economic and educational social strata. In addition, more Christian Palestinians than Muslim Palestinians have family contacts who live abroad, beyond the conflict. These two factors make it all the more possible for Christian Palestinians than Muslims to flee and establish themselves abroad, and so they do.

This is the case regardless upon which side one wishes to place the blame for the tensions and conflict. And there is blame to be placed on both sides. Many sources and anecdotal reports demonstrate that Israeli government policy over last 40 years, including draconian immigration and travel regulations have restricted the Christian Arab population along with the Muslim Arab population and have put unwarranted pressures on an already hard-pressed population making life for the area’s Christian population increasingly difficult. Many of these policies, of course, are predicated on the fact, that the Israeli government does not distinguish between Christians and Muslims in formulating its policies regarding Palestinians.

On the Palestinian side, though generally downplayed by both Muslims and Christians for political reasons, there is ample evidence of internal Palestinian faith-based tensions and discrimination against Christians. Some of these tensions flared up recently this year after the Pope’s remarks about Islam were misinterpreted by much of the Muslim world. In Bethlehem, as reported by the AP’s Brian Murphy in November, Muslims made death threats against Christians. According to Murphy: A group calling itself "Friends of Muhammad" accused a local Palestinian Christian of selling mobile phones carrying offensive sketches of the Muslim prophet.

Murphy goes on: These days Palestinian Christians, dominated by Greek Orthodox and Latin rite churches loyal to the pope, face questions about whether their hearts lie in their homeland or in the West. It gets even more complicated because of the strong support for Israel and Jewish settlers from American evangelical Christians. "We are stuck in no man's land," said a leading Palestinian Christian activist, who spoke on condition of anonymity because of reported death threats. "In the eyes of the West, we are Arabs. In the eyes of Arabs, we are a fifth column."

In 1999 Sheikh Yussef Salameh then the Palestinian Authority’s undersecretary for religious endowment caused a stir when he praised the idea that a future Palestinian state should accord Christians the status of dhimmis under Muslim rule. According to Sharia (Muslim law) dhimmis—a status assigned to both Jews and Christians under the Ottoman Turks—are a protected minority guaranteed security for themselves and their property in exchange for which they must pay a special poll tax and do not enjoy equal rights with Muslims.

Bringing us back to the season at hand, in a June 1999, edition of the Islamic Movement’s weekly Al-Haqq wa Al-Hurriyya, Sheikh Khatib criticized the way that Chrisitans celebrate Christmas. Addressing the words of the Prophet Mohammed, he wrote, “…on the birthday of your brother Jesus…the fools who claim to be of relation to him [the Christians], celebrate by committing deeds that he [Jesus] himself denounced, loathed, and forbade [like] drinking wine, playing games of chance, cursing, and screaming. They think that by doing so, they become closer to him. Oh, how wretched they have become…” This was cited on the website of MEMRI, the Middle East Media Research Institute (August 2, 1999, Special Dispatch Series, Number 41).

So, it seems, there are ample reasons for the exodus of Christians from this, their Holy Land, and there is plenty of blame to be spread around on all sides to be sure. What a tragedy it is that the long history of Christian presence and contribution to this land of its origin is apparently coming to an end; all the more so because it is a tragedy that is and should be preventable. But, where are the voices and support both moral and financial from the Christian world to help their brothers and sisters in their time of need? International Christian organizations that are quick to come to the defense of Palestinian Muslims seem to do precious little on behalf of the co-religionists, especially when it comes down to conflict between the two groups.

Who then is to stand up for the Christians? Would it not be ironic if it were world Jewry? Imagine if the Jews were to come to the defense of the Christians while the world’s Christians remained silent to their plight? It would be an act of real altruism given the Jews’ very problematic history with the Christian world. But the world is crying for altruism right now, isn’t it? And why stop with the Christians? We could begin by elevating all Israeli Arabs (those living within the Green line and who are citizens of the state) to the equal status that they deserve. We can insure that religious discrimination between faiths is not tolerated in the State of Israel. In short, we can enforce the provisions for full religious freedom enunciated in Israel’s Declaration of Independence for all its citizens. Then, even if Christian Arabs may choose to flee areas under Palestinian control at least they can find refuge in Israel and maintain a significant Christian presence in the Holy Land.

Religious tolerance and dialogue is not a pipe dream, not even here, not even now. I know, I have seen it happen, not in the ideal but in real terms. Last week I attended a meeting of Kedem, a project of the ICCI, the Inter-religious Coordinating Council in Israel. It is a wonderful organization in which I have taken great interest since making Aliyah (check out their website at www.icci.org.il). Kedem is a project that brings together Jewish, Muslim and Christian clergy for dialogue on various issues. The interesting thing is that these are not the “usual” faces that one sees in dialogue. There are rabbis, priests, ministers, imams and kadis who are not usually engaged in inter-faith efforts of any kind, so, the very fact that they get together in the first place is of significance no matter what they discuss even if was just the weather! The reality is, you probably never hear that such discussions, religious discussions like Kedem take place. This kind of event isn’t sexy; it doesn’t make headlines. But it is significant and these efforts can and do make a difference and can help to change the religious climate here in this land that is holy to three faiths so that all of the children of Abraham can feel at home here.

We should not allow the tragedy to happen that here in the land of Jesus’ birth there are none of his followers left to celebrate his birthday.

I wish I that was back in the checkout line at Super Deal right now, because I would wish that nice couple a very Merry Christmas.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

“Snapshots of the News” and Hanukah Thoughts

2007-01-25T10:57:00.000+02:00

December 13, 2006

It has been over a month that we have been away from home, so we were longing to return to Jerusalem and our routines and familiar surroundings. A month is a very long time to be away. Much can happen in the course of four or five weeks, especially in the volatile climes of the Middle East and I hardly trust CNN or the scanty reports in the Los Angeles Times to give me an accurate picture of the latest moves and steps in the diplomatic and political ballet performed in the quotidian realities of life in Israel. The fact that I had but limited access to the Internet during my Los Angeles sojourn only added to my news-junky angst. So I could not wait to get home and sink into my easy chair as I caught up on the latest copies of the Jerusalem Post and the Jerusalem Report and went on-line to peruse HaAretz, YNet and various other sources of news and gossip about happenings in and around Israel and the Middle East.

So much has transpired since we left, here are just some snapshots of what was in the news when we got home.

Prime Minister Olmert has gotten himself into more hot water through a slip of the tongue made in an interview with German journalists during his recent visit to the German Republic. It seems that he implied the obvious—that Israel is a nuclear power, when he intentionally or unintentionally included Israel in a list of nuclear powers. This remark ran counter to Israel’s carefully maintained policy of ambiguity and obfuscation when it comes to declaring whether or not it has nuclear military capabilities. The fact that there is no one in a position to care who harbors so much as a scintilla of doubt that Israel maintains a stock of nuclear weapons did not stop the eruption of a firestorm of criticism against Olmert in the Israeli media. Not surprisingly, in his subsequent remarks, the Prime Minster reiterated Israel’s long-standing position that it would not be the first to introduce nuclear weapons into the Middle East conflict. This, of course, was a clear warning to Iran.

Truth be told, there was little reaction to the Prime Minister’s “slip” outside of Israel, so it appears, though there was a great deal of a flap within Israeli political circles. Not that this should astonish us, as the only ones who seem to believe that Israel’s position of ambiguity is at all believable—or effective—are Israeli politicians, specifically those in opposition to whoever transgresses the once-sacred doctrine. This is yet another reminder, perhaps, that in Israel there is no such thing as foreign policy divorced from domestic politics. The political wolves circle around any sign of weakness in their prey. Ever since last summer’s war it seems that we have endured one long, sustained drought in leadership.

One of the biggest stories here (and, I imagine, even in the US) was the “International” conference on the Holocaust held in Teheran, Iran. Holocaust deniers and anti-Zionists from around the world joined for an orgy of truth-twisting and fact-bending all in the name of the pseudo-history of “Holocaust Revisionism.” Perhaps the most disturbing of all the participants were the delegates of the Natorei Karta, the Ultra-Orthodox anti-Zionists whose antipathy towards Israel drives them to such extremes that they willingly join with these modern day Nazis to bash Israel and deny history itself. It is amazing that our own religious authorities in the Haredi world have not excommunicated these internal enemies of our people who overtly work for our own destruction. And there they were, prominently displayed in the front rows of the convocation of evil, their side-curls and beards and frock coats proclaiming to the world that the conveners were by no means anti-Semites, because here were good and pious Jews right in their midst, supporting them and their twisted agenda.

I was gratified to read the responses of world leaders who joined in condemnation of the conference. Outstanding among them (not surprisingly) was Prime Minister Tony Blair, but we also heard from Germany and France and Italy and officially from the EU. Notably silent was the United Nations as a body and all those NGO’s who raised their voices against Israeli racism in the infamous Durban Resolution of 2001, once again demonstrating the unfortunate hypocrisy of the world body when it comes to issues relating to Israel and anti-Semitism.

It was just reported that the Israeli High Court annulled the Intifada Law passed by the Knesset in 2005 which absolved the state of financial responsibiliy in nearly all "non warlike" instances of personal and property damages since 2000. The law applied to all areas of the territories declared as "conflict zones" by the defense minister. Before the amendment was passed, hundreds of damage suits were filed by Palestinian residents who had sustained corporal or property damage from the IDF during the intifada. In its ruling the High Court supported a petition brought before it by nine civil rights groups (spearheded by the Palestinian Adalah Center and including Rabbis for Human Rights) allowing non-combatants and those not associated with terrorist activities to sue the state for damages caused by military and government personnel.

Thuough this was a controversial decision, it is another significant indication of the strength of Israel’s independent judiciary. It also says much about the substantive concern for the protection of civil rights even during trying wartime conditions. I am not sure that this perspective of Israel is properly depicted in the international media where picures of destroyed houses and lines of Palestinians at checkpoints make for more spectacular press than this kind of news. Yet, while not denying those picures that make it into the media, it is precisely this kind of under-reported news that speaks of the real Israel and the vibrant democracy that it is.

So, these are just a few of the stories that we came home to. Though Israel is often singled out for criticism and even condemnation on CNN, on the BBC, in the New York Times and in the LA Times, the news abroad and in Israel is also filled with unrest in Lebanon brought on by the Lebanese themselves, virtual civil war in Gaza with Hamas gunmen killing the innocent children of Fatah officials—all independent of any Israeli actions. We live in a very rough neighborhood and this makes the prospects for peace in the short run dim. But, though I may be pessimistic in the short run I am, nonetheless, an optimist in the long run. Why? Well, perhaps because this is the season of miracles and this is the land of miracles.

When playing with my dreidel at Hanukah in America I followed its spin with its facets bearing Hebrew letters standing for “A great miracle happened there,” reminding me of a far-off place and a legend from long ago. Here we play with tops that spin out a message of “A great miracle happened here.” Here, all around us…in those days at this season. If then, why not now? In Israel, the difference between reality and miracles is that miracles sometimes take a bit longer to happen.

For me, the fact that we are getting by—at least for the present—without a Judah Maccabee to lead us is scary, but all-in-all, maybe something of a miracle.

For me, our very existence after the Holocaust, especially at this moment and despite those who would deny history—and us—is a miracle.

For me, the fact that we struggle but are determined to maintain our humanity and our sense of what is right when so many forces both internal and external seek to throw us off our moral balance is something of a miracle.

In a few days it will be Hanukah. We will light the candles, spin the dreidels and eat too many latkes, doughnuts and chocolate coins. But the shining lights displayed prominently in the windows will remind us that we live in a land of miracles. Perhaps this year…

Hag Urim Same’ach and shalom from Jerusalem.

Prayers for a Rainy Day

2006-10-15T11:18:00.000+02:00

October 15, 2006

Well, here in Jerusalem the holy days are officially behind us—a day before traditional Jews in the Diaspora observe the final day of the holy day cycle between Rosh Hashanah and Simchat Torah. But, here in Israel we also observe an “extra” day of the fall festivals. This “extra” day is called Isru Hag and follows the three pilgrimage festivals of Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot. The Talmud (Sukkot 45b) states that “One who makes an addition (Issur) to the festival (Hag) is merited as if building an altar and sacrificing upon it.” The medieval commentator Rashi interprets this to imply the day after the festival. So, we acknowledge the day after the hallowed and hectic holy days as a kind of semi-holy day to allow us to ease our way back into the rigors of everyday, profane life after our sojourn in the sacred during the festival.

Yesterday, Shabbat, Shemini Atzeret (see Leviticus 23:36) and Simchat Torah, was an incredible confluence of celebrations. Amidst all the singing and dancing with the scrolls of the Torah, the (seemingly) endless Aliyot to the Torah read in small minyanim throughout the building to allow everyone a chance to recite the blessings— I recited the Cohen blessing on the fourth complete reading of the portion in our minyan—and the general raucous cacophony that accompanies our Simchat Torah festivities, two decisively serious notes were introduced to the day’s liturgical symphony.

Following the Torah reading, our mood of joy and almost Dionysian abandon of decorum changes abruptly as we turn to the Yizkor service of memorial for our departed. In a whiplash of emotion, we move dramatically from exultation to solemn memory as we look to the past and those who have shaped us. For most of us, were it not for the people in our past and the undying influences that they etched upon our lives, we would not be the people we are as we approach this new year so filled with hope and prayer. And, so we pause to reflect gratefully upon our antecedents, giving thanks for the bounty of their harvest as manifested in and through our lives, just as we offer our Sukkot-thanks to God for the bounty of earth’s harvest. It is this reflective pause and the one that follows, amidst the frivolity and celebration that—for me—is key to the meaning of this festival of thanksgiving.

After reciting our service of Yizkor memory, we turn to the Musaf (additional service) of Shemini Atzeret during which we recite the blessing for rain—which we continue to recite until Passover and the end of Israel’s rainy season. The blessing traditionally is chanted at that service (at the end of the festival) in the hopes that rain will begin to fall in a few days. I say “in a few days” because our ancient forebears anticipated the need for pilgrims to return home on dry roads before the rains began to fall in earnest. Hence, our prayers for rain are accompanied by the unuttered proviso that the Master of the Universe hold-off on the blessing until the most practically advantageous moment. Like Yizkor, the prayer for rain adds another texture to the holy day—it directs us to the future (just as Yizkor reminded us of the past) and the realization that, despite all our scientific and technological advancements, we are still at the mercy of God’s natural blessings.

Today (Sunday, October 15, 2006) is Isru Hag and already some people have taken advantage of this break from the workaday routine to begin the daunting task of taking down their sukkah and putting it away for the year—the truth is that many of the sukkah booths, like America’s Christmas lights, often stay up well past the end of their appointed time. But, as for those who diligently began to take down their sukkah today, they were greeted, right in the middle of their labors, with a “premature” downpour! And, believe me, there is nothing like a Jerusalem downpour.

Due to our topography and climate, clouds move through Jerusalem with incredible speed. Clear and blue one minute, in a twinkling of an eye, the skies can transform into steel-gray as sheets—really sheets—of rain fall to the ground.

And so it was today, Isru Hag Sukkot 5767, the heavens opened up and blessed rain (quite literally, considering our supplications just yesterday) began to fall. Thankfully the rains were brief, though plentiful. Thus, any pilgrims caught in Jerusalem’s first major downpour of the season had no worries about being stranded on muddy roads as they make their way homeward. But, after months of desert dryness, this rain was welcome indeed. We were given a wonderful Isru Hag continuation of the meaning and message of the holy days just ended. We are reminded once again that life is filled with changes—often unpredictable—just like the turning of the year with its sudden downpour, and that it is as fragile as our Sukkot booths. So, too, we realize that life is about the gifts and griefs that we inherit from those whom we recall in Yizkor memory, while at the same time rich in hope for the future expressed in our prayers for nurturing rain.

May God grant you all the life-giving and life-affirming blessings of Isru Hag and a year of blessed rain and the raining of blessings.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Last Minute Things

2006-10-01T12:35:00.000+02:00

October 1, 2006
9 Tishri 5767

In just a few short hours Jerusalem will undergo one of those incredible transformations that mark its singularity as a city holy to the Jewish people. Sometime before sunset virtually all traffic will cease. Public transportation will come to a stop and there will be very few private vehicles presenting moving targets for the over-zealous young people who use rocks to enforce tradition. Yom Kippur—the White Fast—will be ushered in with families feasting in anticipation of twenty-seven hours of self-deprivation in fulfillment of Levitical statute.

Here in Israel, because our Jewish holy days are—by definition—national holidays, the atmosphere everywhere is charged with the spirit of Israel’s answer to America’s “holiday season.” People greet each other (even strangers and even on TV) with a “Shanah Tovah—Good Year,” and a “G’mar Hatimah Tovah—May you be sealed in the Book of Life for a year of blessing.” This past week the holy days have taken hold upon the homeland of the Jews and nothing important has any hope of being completed until “after the holy days,” meaning after Sukkot, not Yom Kippur! For religious Jews (from the most orthodox to we liberals) this is an intense period of spiritual reflection and celebration of God’s creation and beneficence, for secular Israelis this is the last major vacation period before Hanukah.

Right now, as I write these words, the streets of Jerusalem are busy with people scurrying around on last minute errands to complete the preparations for the Aruhat Mafseket—the meal beginning the fast—and the meal to break the fast which, in my family, we called the Kurtar Ta’anit—Ladino for breaking the fast. It is inevitable, plan as you might, you forget something: cheese for the borekas, pomegranate seeds for the salad, or, worst of all—dessert itself! Or, in the midst of your culinary endeavors you realize that you didn’t buy enough of something and, so, someone has to run out to the stores and shop before everything closes around midday.

A Half Hour Later…
Guess what—I had to interrupt the writing of this reflection because Wendy sent me on an errand. It seems that she forgot to put grapes and watermelons on the shopping list so I had to dash off to the greengrocer to pick them up. Derekh Beit Lehem (the ancient road to Bethlehem and our village main street) bore witness to the approaching advent of the holy day as fellow last-minute shoppers mingled with patrons at the cafes filling up on carbohydrates and liquids before tomorrow’s fast. So, believe me, I know whereof I wrote in the preceding paragraphs of this reflection.

I love this time of soul-savoring anticipation, as we make ready for the sacred day ahead. We feel it every Friday as we prepare for Shabbat; but this anticipation of Yom Kippur is all the more intense due to the particular sanctity of the Day of Atonement. Moreover, no one wants to be caught unprepared, as there is absolutely no chance to pick up a loaf of bread or an extra pastry (“just in case”) on Yom Kippur itself. No, there are no second chances if you missed something; all break fasts are final! This decisiveness of the culinary decree adds to the excitement, I think. But, it also brings a spiritual message—just like the Shofar blast on Rosh Hashanah beginning this season—we are reminded to wake up, take stock and make things right before it is too late. Let’s be honest, it is easy to deal with culinary shortcomings—so what, so we don’t have grapes and watermelon and have to make due with whatever else Wendy has prepared in abundance; but, it is not so easy to deal with our spiritual shortcomings. How do you make up for the lack of an ingredient in your character, or make do with the realization that things may be missing in your life?

The days between Rosh Hashanah are to be spent in spiritual inventory and our self-denial of food on Yom Kippur reminds us of our daily self-imposed denial of spiritual sustenance. Lest we assume that the Days of Awe are a kind of Hebraic Feast of Guilt, consider that they bring us the very positive message that we have the God-given capacity to make things right—not perfect but right—in our lives.

Part of our preparation for this spiritual fine-tuning is the tradition of seeking out people whom we’ve wronged during the past year and asking their forgiveness. And, of course, there is its corollary in the mitzvah of our forgiving others (further reminding that it is much easier to ask forgives for wrongs that we have committed than it is to forgive the wrongs that others have done to us). We might add to this the granting of forgiveness to ourselves for those things that—despite our best and truest efforts—we are incapable of changing. Thus we have a Jewish tradition of exchanging the most precious of gifts during the holy days—forgiveness. Don’t wait until it is too late.

And so, in the spirit of the “holy day season,” I wish for all of you that this year be one of much blessing for and from you. G’mar Hatimah Tovah, and…

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Synagogues: Past, Present and Future

2006-09-26T11:27:00.000+03:00

September 25, 2006

Many people have asked me what I am doing now that Wendy and I live in Israel. Well, in short, I am studying. Right now I am specializing in early rabbinic history of the period of the Mishnah and the Talmud.

It is said that a specialist is someone who knows more and more about less and less until knowing absolutely everything about nothing at all. True, specializing in one particular field of study or focusing on only one thing in life can rob us of much of the world around us. But, I am willing to take that chance as I pursue this interest in Jewish history…looking at where we have been to better understand where we are in order to get a fix on where we are going.

My studies take me to the first through third centuries C.E., and the development of our rabbinic tradition. I am working on a book about the Haggadah and the rabbis who created it (and why), so I need to know as much as I can about the world in which they lived. I’ve been studying how the Jews interacted with those around them (especially the Romans) and how they fit in and, often, fell out with the Graeco-Roman world in which they lived. I have read the words of non-Jews (like the Roman historian Tacitus) who saw Jews and Judaism as a threat to the Roman Empire because they could not—or would not—buy into the religio-political system that undergirded and insured its hegemony. Reading their words and anti-Semitic rhetoric, I was impressed how they sound so contemporary and find their evil expression even today in words spoken against Jews and Israel. The more things change, the more they remain the same…

Presently, I am reading an article on the development of synagogues during the period of the Mishnah and Talmud (now how is that for being a page-turner of a subject). The article (a real test of my Hebrew) surveys archaeological discoveries of ancient synagogues found in Israel and its environs and explores how they were designed and functioned.

Then, as today, the synagogue was more than a place to pray. Fulfilling its traditional trinomial appellation, the synagogue served as a place of prayer (Beit T’fillah), a place of study (Beit Midrash), and place of gathering for social and communal activities (Beit Knesset). The synagogue was characteristically the focal point of the Jewish town (as opposed to the Hellenistic cities and towns amongst which the Jewish towns were situated) and the most elaborate structure, built in the most prominent location. Interestingly, the art and architecture of first through fourth century synagogues reflected styles and motifs common to non-Jewish public buildings of the period—as if to demonstrate how a structure dedicated to the Jewish community was also open to the influences of and interaction with the outside world. Perhaps in keeping with this philosophy, our rabbis of the Talmud teach us that a synagogue must be constructed with windows to allow the outside world to enter and so that the influence of Judaism might also make its way beyond the walls of the synagogue.

It was the multi-faceted character and function of the synagogue that, more than anything else, made it such an important and prominent institution in Jewish communal life. The synagogue did not “specialize,” it served the broadest constituency in the most diverse ways. Yes, people came there to pray, but it was also the place where they learned, gathered socially, discussed and adjudicated public affairs, provided social and communal services and extended hospitality to visitors. The ancient synagogue was a kind of Jewish Community Center long before Mordechai Kaplan, the founder of the Reconstructionist Movement, wrote that synagogues should function as real communal centers with people attending to sit around a swimming pool as well as in the pews. The rabbis understood 2,000 years ago, and Kaplan dilated upon the theme in the 1920’s, that the synagogue is the singular institution in Jewish life that not only serves Jews, but makes Jews.

Funny how the ancient world and our modern world play games with me and sometimes blend together…in the midst of reading about the role of the ancient synagogues, I just came across an article in today’s Jerusalem Post with amazing associations to what I am studying. It was a short piece on page 5 (often the most interesting articles are found buried inside the paper, not on the front page), and ran the headline: “State pledges funds for reform [sic] synagogues.” It began, “On the eve of Rosh Hashanah the Construction and Housing Ministry assured non-Orthodox congregations that they would received prefabricated synagogues like Orthodox communities…”

Now, that’s something! Here in Israel that is news! Those familiar with the state of religious freedom in the Jewish state know that the non-Orthodox streams are at best neglected, at worst discriminated against by the government that is supposed to serve the interests of all Jews, or, at least, all Israeli Jews. This homeland for the totality of the Jewish people makes it very difficult to be a practicing liberal Jew. While Orthodox institutions receive generous government funding (often obscenely generous as part of the political games that are played with the state budget), those of the non-Orthodox streams are left scrounging for whatever funds can be had. Most of the support for our non-Orthodox institutions (schools, synagogues, public service organizations, etc.) comes from outside Israel—do you detect an appeal here?

The synagogues of the Reform Movement (at present there are some 20-25 around the country), like those of the ancient world, serve a variety of functions beyond providing worship services and life-cycle ceremonies. Our congregations provide day-care, youth programming, early-childhood education, host cultural and community events, and operate soup-kitchens, tutorial programs, and other social services to a community embracing many Israelis who do not consider themselves “liberal Jews” or even religious. Obviously the better the facilities the more effectively these functions can be carried out, so the state’s offer to provide buildings (albeit prefabricated structures) is an enormous step forward for the non-Orthodox streams of Judaism. But, of course there is a fly in the ointment—while the promise has been made, it is not likely that the buildings will be constructed any time soon. The article concludes: “…due to a legal dispute unrelated to the issue of non-Orthodox discrimination, the building of the prefabs has been delayed.” Funny, that doesn’t seem to impede the progress of building Orthodox synagogues with government funds in every Jewish community. Oh well, at least this “promise” is a small achievement for we liberal Jews.

During these High Holy Days many Jews will be spending far more time than is their custom within the walls of their synagogues. As you sit and listen to the majesty of the sacred liturgy and reflect upon the meaning of the Days of Awe, I ask that you consider a few things (my non-Jewish friends and readers can translate the following to their own circumstances as I am sure that it is quite applicable): Think about how your synagogue can be more of a community for you and how you can make it more than a place to go for worship. Think about how you can take the synagogue beyond its walls and make it a positive force in your life and in the life of the community.

If archaeologists were to uncover the remains of your synagogue a thousand years from now, what would they be able to learn about it? What could they/would they say about its function in Jewish life and its efficacy in perpetuating a Jewish future? Would your synagogue prove to be an institution for Jews or one that makes Jews?

Looking back to our past; looking forward to our future, I wish you all: “Tizku l-Shanim Rabot—may you merit many years of blessing” as we welcome the New Year 5767.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

A New Year in a Holy City

2006-09-20T13:46:00.000+03:00

September 20, 2006

I have learned much in the course of this past year since making Aliyah and settling in the Holy City of Jerusalem. One thing I learned is that it takes more than calling a city holy to make it holy.

In a peregrination through the city you see ample evidence that people revere more with words than deeds the very center of Judaism and the font from which our ethical-religious tradition flows. Heaps of garbage adorn empty lots and piles of refuse bear reeking testimony to picnic rites held in our many parks. Dogs do, people discard and nearly everyone seems to turn a blind eye to the daily desecration of our holy Jerusalem. And litter is not our only problem.

Driving through this city is an adventure; a risk of life and limb challenging even the most skilled of drivers and testing the mental acuity of anyone foolish enough to sit behind the wheel of a vehicle. And there, from that vantage point, one is afforded a remarkable view of the human comedy played out on the stage of Jerusalem’s roadways. Here, everybody is in a hurry—car horns blare seconds before the light turns green, drivers weave in and out of traffic to squeeze even one car-length ahead and seem to accrue points to themselves for every other car that they can out-maneuver in a reckless (and too often, lethal) ballet. Then, there are those drivers that one encounters on an annoyingly regular basis who block traffic on our already crowded thoroughfares by double-parking with a cavalier attitude of, “I’ll only be a minute!” While the driver is off on his or her “quick” errand, irate drivers curse and cringe while assaying a circumvention of the offending vehicle at the same time trying to avoid the metallic kiss of on-coming traffic. “Yes,” I think to myself each time I encounter these insensitive dolts, “you may be blocking traffic for ‘just a minute,’ but you’ll be a jerk for ever!”

As long as I am on to my Sturm und Drang on insensitivity, let me tell you about this fellow in my Uplan (Hebrew language) class. Wendy, my friend and classmate Stuart Geller and I call him the Yitush—the mosquito. Like the offensive insect he is small and seemingly insignificant, but annoying as hell! He interrupts the class constantly; answering rhetorical questions, “correcting” other people’s mistakes (usually incorrectly) and always being the first to volunteer to read (often without taking the trouble to actually volunteer). The Yitush is a man about 65 or 70years old. He was originally from England where—from what we have gleaned from him—he lived an orderly and remarkably ordinary life as a bank clerk. You know the kind…so caught up in the indignity of their lowly estate that they ennoble themselves by assuming aristocratic airs as they, in their full bureaucratic self-importance they haughtily tell you that you filled out your social security number or account number incorrectly and must do the whole thing over again—in triplicate! I knew his kind in elementary school. They were the audio-visual monitors who found great satisfaction in wearing as many keys as possible at their waist, each a kind of Croix de Nerd—first-class. I make mention of the Yitush because he has a quotidian ritual that would be most annoying, if anybody really cared. Each day at break time, students from the various classes gather in the foyer where Kobi the wonderful owner of the building’s kiosk dispenses cappuccino, hot chocolate, tea and soft drinks, as well as sweets and sandwiches to the long line of hungry Ulpaniks. Many of the students—some well on in years—seem to have difficulty managing the five or ten minutes standing in line before they get to the front and place their order. Not the Yitush, no, while everyone else waits in line, he goes to the side of the coffee cart, takes a cup and then walks around behind the tiny counter and makes himself a cup of coffee while our dear Kobi bravely soldiers on in the coffee wars obviously doing his utmost to ignore this attack to his flank. Watching on, I can only describe the Yitush’s manner as being like someone who tries to act unobtrusive and nonchalant, all-the-while desperately hoping that someone might notice that he could do something that they couldn’t…except that nobody reacts at all, it is as if they did notice. Nothing, if not persistent, he repeats this tactic in his battle plan to win the admiration and respect (or at least the grudging envy) of others the next day and the next and the next.

What do the litterers, the insensitive drivers and the Yitush have in common and why do I mention them here? Like I said, it takes more than calling a city holy to make it holy. Jerusalem may indeed be blessed with an intrinsic holiness that God, or Jewish tradition has bestowed with loving grace upon it. But it is we who inhabit the city make it holy each and every day. How we treat our city and how we act in it actualizes that sublime holiness that informs our sacred sentiments or makes a mockery of them. You can’t desecrate something by offense or neglect and say that it is holy. You can’t be insensitive to others and their needs and say that you live in holy space. You can’t promote your self-worth while denying the worth of others and take pride that you reside in a holy state (if not a state of holiness). It is we, by our actions, who make our place and our lives holy and by that I mean, understanding and acknowledging that we live in the presence of God. Jerusalem is truly a holy city only if and when people act within its precincts in holiness.

Isn’t this true of our lives, wherever we live? Don’t we all seek to bring a sense of transcendence, of holiness into our lives? Isn’t that, after all is said and done, what brings meaning and significance to our lives? Isn’t that exactly what these High Holy Days that we are about to observe and celebrate all about?

And, if the truth be told, we know all too well that within each of us dwells the spirit of the litterer, the insensitive driver and, yes, even the Yitush. The city of our lives is populated by all of these characters, and more… What is most annoying about them is that they remind us of ourselves, the part of ourselves that we seek to purify and sanctify during the sacred days ahead. The High Holy Days is our time for cleaning up the city, of making things run right in our lives. Then, and only then, can we aspire for our souls to dwell in a truly holy place.

To you and yours, Wendy and I send our best wishes for a happy, healthy and fulfilled New Year.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Five Years Later

2006-09-20T13:43:00.000+03:00

September 11, 2006

I, like some 95% of Americans, know exactly where I was on September 11, 2001 when the terrorists attacked. As soon as the first plane hit the World Trade Center I received a call from my colleague, Heidi Cohen, relaying the terrible news. I immediately switched on the TV and watched as the towers shook and then crumbled in a colossal heap—a grotesque monument to debased inhumanity. Throughout the day, as I went about the congregational and communal tasks of dealing with the crisis, I, together with a nation united in shock, remained attuned to the flickering screen as the horrific events unfolded. It became the horrible, unimaginable leitmotif of that day and those that followed as we tried to sort out the magnitude of this crime against humanity.

For days the scenes on the television were repeated and repeated in a soul-numbing ballet of grief and wanton destruction. How many died? How many survived? Who by falling stones? Who by fire? Questions raged about us in a sad echo of the U’netaneh Tokef prayer of the High Holy Days, then as now, just beyond the horizon of that awful morning.

Our High Holy Days require of us a Heshbon ha-Nefesh—a personal accounting of our lives and the direction in which we are headed. That time of the Yamim Nora'im—the Days of Awe—in 2001 brought us to an accounting unlike any other in recent memory. We asked questions about the future (both personal and collective) and plumbed the depths of our souls to find some meaning, some hope to emerge from the rubble and the shattered sense of security that we had vouchsafed ourselves before September 11th.

On that day five years ago America, and much of the world, joined the existential war in which Israel has been engaged since its founding. It is a war as much with ourselves as with any outside enemy. And, in a way, the external threat is much easier to deal with than our internal battles.

The enemy without is clear—a foe bent on our destruction, challenging us at every turn to steel ourselves and be ever watchful against a constant threat to our security and physical welfare. And so, we set up commissions and agencies to oversee and to warrant our now all too tenuous national security against an intractable enemy. We set out on military ventures in hot pursuit of a wily and elusive international terrorist network unlike any opponent we have faced in battle before. By their own declarations our enemies call for our destruction, thus our terrorist enemy has removed any semblance of ambiguity about the nature of this war in which we are entangled.

On the other hand, the battle within us has no clear lines. We are plagued as much by our own conscience and morality as we are by terrorist bombs. Even today, five years after the collapse of the World Trade Center and the attack on the Pentagon, we weigh and debate and struggle with the means that we employ to cut off yet another of the hydra-heads of those poised against us, and our very civilization. Each action and restriction upon personal freedom undertaken in the name of protecting our physical security gives rise to a hundred questions—to what extent do we compromise our values in order to defeat an enemy bent upon destroying the civilization established upon the foundation of those values. We struggle and we make compromises with our ideals and have done so for the past five years. Our enemies see this struggle as a sign of weakness, a lack of courage and resolve. But, I would argue that our battle within is, in fact, a manifestation of our strength as a nation and as a civilization.

The ability to scrutinize and question our motives and actions is a hallmark of democratic civilization. Our leaders are subject to accountability and can be challenged and even replaced by their constituency. We see such questioning in the US, in Britain, and here in Israel as the media raises issues such as Guantanamo detention, or the prosecution of the war in Lebanon. We do not see it in the enemy camp whose leaders disdain criticism and who are replaced by coup and assassin more often than by the ballot.

There are those who describe September 11, 2001 as the opening salvo of World War III. However, if this is true, then this is a war unlike any other. It will last much longer than the four years of World War I or the six years of World War II. There will be no set battlefields like the Ardennes or Guadalcanal—this war is being waged on a global front. Just as we Israelis came to realize that the home front is the front, the rest of the world is slowly coming to the conclusion that there is no place away from the heat of battle as it is being waged right where we live.

And, unlike either WWI or WWII, this war is not about territory so much as it is a clash of civilizations and ideologies. This is a war waged by radical Islam against the rest of the world, not just Christian “Crusaders” and Jewish infidels, but against every non-Muslim whom the fanatics of Islam mark for domination and destruction. This is by their own admission, expressed in their own propaganda. The question is, do we take them at their word, do we believe them, or do we simply discount what they say as so much rhetoric meant only for internal consumption?

Tragically absent so far in this war are clear, strong, authoritative and numerous voices within the Islamic world condemning the fanatics and actively working against them. Until that changes, the war will drag on for years, perhaps decades.

Ultimately it will not be the West (alone) that will defeat the terrorists and the warriors of radical Islam, it will be the Muslim world itself—any and all those who seek a better world for themselves and their children, one in which life is cherished instead of sacrificed, where actions are informed by values rather than inflamed by fanatical rhetoric. Our challenge is to foster and encourage those voices. It is far more difficult a strategic objective to achieve than any tactical battlefield military objective. And how, I wonder, do we prosecute that kind of war? Does anyone know?

So, have we learned anything since that woe-filled day five years ago? I believe so. I do not think that we are as naïve as we were before 9/11, walking about with a false sense of security as we did before the WTC perfidy. There is a lot that we do not take for granted anymore—beyond our personal safety. There are probably very few people today who do not see this war for what it is—an existential war pitting us against an enemy out to destroy us.

But, there is so much that we have yet to learn. I open the papers today and see that “negotiations” are continuing with Iran over its freeze on its nuclear program. Though it has categorically rejected the latest (supposedly last) offer of compromise by the Europeans, the representatives of the EU persist in pursuing talk rather than sanctions. And Israel, the country most directly (but not solely) threatened by a nuclear-armed Iran debates whether or not to take unilateral action to thwart Iran’s nuclear ambitions. Talk is always better than the use of force to achieve objectives, but unless force is a credible consequence of the breakdown in discussions, then negotiations have little hope of achieving anything. What, after all, do the Iranians stand to lose? Why should they accept the UN’s offers if it faces no consequences for acting otherwise?

Have we learned anything from 9/11? I am not sure. Can we deal with its consequences? Maybe the answer is to be found in the words of the same U’netaneh Tokef prayer of the High Holy Day liturgy that echoed in my ears five years ago today—U’teshuvah, u’tefilah, u’tzedakah ma’avirin et ro’a ha-g’zerah—“Repentance, prayer and righteousness bring us through the evil decree” (translation my own). “Repentance” implies the resolve to deal with our realities. “Prayer” (as the Hebrew word suggests) involves self-scrutiny and self-judgment; it directs us to strategic planning for dealing with our realities. And, lastly, “righteousness” alludes to value-based action resulting from our resolve and self-scrutiny in order to effect meaningful change upon our realities. This formula will not “avert the evil decree” (following the traditional translation of the verse), but it can help us to effectively “get through” (from the Hebrew word ma’avirin) the difficult realities and challenges that confront us after that fateful day five years ago today. Whether or not the likes of Al Qaeda and the forces of radical Islam will be defeated will ultimately be up to the Islamic world itself. Whether or not we and our civilization will be defeated will be up to us.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

The Day of the Jackal…and the Jeckles

2006-08-16T14:51:00.000+03:00

August 16, 2006

The next battle has begun. As soon as the firing stopped on Monday, the war of words and recrimination commenced. The airwaves and newspapers are filled to overflowing with commentators analyzing the war and laying blame for its failure to achieve all of Israel’s goals. From the right, from the left and from the center the soldiers of sophistry are on the march!

Do you remember the film “The Day of the Jackal?” A hired assassin stalks General Charles de Gaul at the behest of ex-officers of the aborted Foreign Legion because they blamed him for weakness and capitulation to France’s enemies. How about the old Terrytoons series staring the bickering magpies Heckle and Jeckle? They would just delight sitting back, watching the world and throwing their verbal brickbats at all and sundry—a running commentary on just about everything, offered from the safety of their perch.

These two cinematic images provide an appropriate metaphor for the rumbling and grumbling of the political pundits who have been busy since the beginning of Monday’s cease-fire affixing blame for what is generally assessed to have been a military fiasco. Like the assassin in “The Day of the Jackal” there are those who want to eliminate the Prime Minister, Ehud Olmert as the person most responsible for the less than satisfactory results of our war against Hezbollah. The pack of “get-Olmert” critics (in the press led by Caroline Glick, the resident harpy of the Jerusalem Post) is putting out the call to bring down Olmert’s government and replace it with a right-wing coalition. Still smarting from their loss in the polls, there are those on the right using the perceived failure of the recent military enterprise to further their partisan political goals.

Not to be outdone, there are many Heckles and Jeckles on the left who sling their brickbats by calling for commissions of inquiry, again to find the satisfaction of an address to lay blame—but, in their case, the blame is for entering into the hostilities in the first place. Among the magpies is the former leader of Meretz (the party for which I voted in the last election), Yossi Sarid, who wrote in today’s Ha’Aretz: “Ehud Olmert's artificial reign has ended, as has Amir Peretz' unripe leadership. Not one minister acted properly, not a single general stood out, and there is scarcely an analyst among the biased commentators who did not burn his fingers and toe the line.” Sarid wonders where the left has been since the beginning of the war?

And even those who lay blame are not themselves immune from criticism. In an article in today’s Jerusalem Post economist Jonathan Lipow lays much of the blame for Israel’s botches on the battlefield at the feet of those in charge of Israel’s economy. He assails both Benjamin Netanyahu as the former Minister of the Treasury (who wasted no time following the Security Council call for a cease-fire to raise his voice against Olmert’s running of the war) and Bank of Israel chief Stanley Fischer for cuts made to the IDF budget that led to cut backs in training and readiness. Even those without a political ax to grind are quick to focus blame.

With Jackals on the right and Jeckles on the left there is seemingly no end to the war of words and finger pointing following the war of rockets and tanks. But, it is precisely this raucous chorus of criticism that is part of Israel’s strength. We live in a democracy in which criticism of the ruling powers is considered an inalienable right. In our democracy there will be official inquiries to investigate our shortcomings and assess our tactics and policies. That exercise in democracy is a sign of strength so long as it results in meaningful self-criticism and change. If it results only in assigning blame to individuals and political purges, then it can be a sign of our continuing malaise. Our open democracy is a two-edged sword, indeed.

And yet, it is our free and open democracy that sets us apart from our enemies. If one takes an objective look at the War Between the Straits, the military math clearly indicates that Israel emerged victorious—though only partially. Not all of Israel’s objectives were achieved by military means. Our hostages continue to be held in the hands of the terrorists and it remains to be seen if the Lebanese government has the will or the means to disarm Hezbollah. But our military forces were successful in significantly diminishing Hezbollah’s military capabilities and as much as half of its fighting force was eliminated. So, why is Hezbollah claiming victory?

Hezbollah’s ballyhooing of its military success in defeating the once-invincible IDF is not mere propaganda (though it must be admitted that it is very effective in that regard); Hezbollah’s claim of victory in the face of significant—maybe even debilitating—military losses is systemic to a totalitarian regime. There will be no official inquiries or moralizing about Hezbollah’s actions. Dissenters know what fate awaits them should they raise their voices to express opposition to Nasrallah or to criticize the military adventurism by Hezbollah that wrought such destruction upon the Lebanese. So, the terrorists will lay low for a while and lick their wounds, but will they realize how much they lost in this latest of continuing battles? Not likely, not likely at all.

A tragic result of our enemies’ inability to engage in self-criticism and open debate of their actions is that the Arab masses (and much of the world if truth be told) really believes that Hezbollah was victorious and that the War Between the Straits was the first skirmish in the war of Israel’s annihilation. And who will suffer? Everyone. Israel will not go away. We have the means and the determination to defend ourselves at all costs. Our enemies’ misread this past war when they call us weak. Unlike any war since 1948, the home front was tried and tested and—by all accounts—we did not succumb to the rockets and the katyushas raining down on our cities and towns. Our brave citizenry displayed heroism equal to our soldiers on the front lines. How can such a people be defeated?

The answer is that we can defeat ourselves. Instead of assigning blame to individuals or making of this war a political football to be kicked back-and-forth, this is a time for all Israelis to share collective responsibility—to assess our weaknesses and correct them. Precisely now we need to draw upon the strengths of our democracy to insure that our shortcomings in this war are corrected. As our politicians of all stripes have noted, we are engaged in a war for our very survival. There may be a cease-fire in effect but no truce, no peace accord. Inevitably—so it seems—we will be called to arms again. I pray that those arms are not bound by our own failings and lack of united determination to prevail. We dare not allow narrow self-interest or self-serving political posturing to jeopardize our democracy—this, too, is a battle that must be won.

Shalom from Jerusalem

Of Alarums and Alarm

2006-08-13T08:58:00.000+03:00

Motzei Shabbat, August 12, 2006

As I have written before, the atmosphere in Jerusalem is deceptively quiet during this time of war. The only explosions that go off emanate from the colorful fireworks displays put on by the municipality (where do they get the money for such frivolity?) and the only gunshots that we hear come from the Arab weddings down in the Arab villages below us. Yes, Jerusalem appears to be relatively free of the frightening sounds and sights of this horrible war that has been imposed upon us. But, that is not to say that Jerusalem is completely cut off from the realities of the hostilities raging around us both in the north and in the south.

Jerusalemites have opened their hearts and homes to thousands upon thousands of the refugees from the war-torn cities, towns and villages in Israel. Those who have the wherewithal and the ability to do so have fled the bomb shelters and safe rooms in which they have been living since the outbreak of hostilities to enjoy a bit of respite from the daily rain of rockets and missiles. Many of them have sought shelter from the deadly storm here in the relative quiet and peace of Jerusalem. Hotels emptied of the foreign tourists who usually fill them play host to Israeli families. Imagine the incongruous sight of people lounging around hotel swimming pools who days before huddled in mortal fear, meters of concrete away from the sunshine.

Regarding these people there was an interesting little bit of information in this weekend’s newspaper. Life in Jerusalem pulsates to the rhythms of the Jewish calendar. Each week builds in anticipation of the advent of Shabbat when the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives slows perceptibly and we abandon ourselves to the sweet sanctity of the day of rest. To announce the holy day and to allow Jerusalemites time to complete the deeds of the secular world in order to prepare for the needs of the sacred world, a warning blast from a siren is sounded throughout the city. This hearkens back to the days when the Temple stood on Mount Moriah, when the shofar’s blast heralded the beginning of Shabbat. Today, a siren’s wailing and piercing sound informs us that the Shabbat bride is about to descend upon the city. It is that very siren that was the topic of a small article in Friday’s Jerusalem Post.

It seems that several of our guests from the north expressed dismay over the siren. To them, the siren’s shout means that rockets are about to fall, not the approach of Shabbat eve. What to do? Not wanting these war weary people to associate the announcing of Shabbat with the alarums of war and destruction, someone in the municipality came up with the idea of broadcasting Shabbat melodies to prepare us for Shabbat peace and joy. So, instead of sirens we now have songs.

The weekend papers mainly concentrated on the harsher realities of war as well as noting the first anniversary since the Disengagement from Gaza. It is incredible how much has happened since last August when the (then) Likud government of Ariel Sharon began the historic process of removing the settlements and military bases in Gaza that Israel occupied since 1967. In one year we witnessed Sharon’s stroke. Then came the elections in the PA that catapulted the terrorist Hamas party to leadership of the Palestinians. This was followed by the March elections here in Israel and the subsequent change of government with a Kadimah-led coalition propelling Ehud Olmert to the office of Prime Minister. Almost from the moment of the Israeli pullout from Gaza, Palestinian-launched Kassam rockets began falling within the Green Line on Israeli cities as a kind of defiant response to the Disengagement. Finally, we came to realize the consequence of another Israeli pullout, this one from Lebanon in 2000, and Hezbollah’s massive military build up in South Lebanon. So much happened, so very much in just one short year.

The weekend magazine sections in the various Israeli newspapers are filled with reflections, comments and pontifications from politicians and pundits about the wisdom or folly of last year’s Disengagement and the future fate of its corollary—Olmert’s Convergence plan. The general consensus seems to hold that we are in the mess that we are in regarding Gaza and the Palestinians and the rise of Hamas because of, not in spite of the Disengagement. Hamas and the extreme elements in Palestinian society claimed credit for Israel’s withdrawal from Gaza as a consequence of their armed resistance to the Israeli presence. This is precisely the same rationale employed by Hezbollah following Israel’s unilateral withdrawal from Lebanon six years ago and which lead to Hezbollah’s political and military rise in Lebanon. If this was true in Gaza and Lebanon, such thinking goes, how can Israel possibly evacuate the West Bank settlements as Olmert’s Convergence Plan outlines?

In apparent alarm over the possible feeding of anti-Israel extremism amongst Palestinians and others in the Arab world, commentators who opening and even enthusiastically endorsed Sharon’s Disengagement Plan a year ago now admit that they were wrong to do so then and are against any subsequent disengagements (by whatever name) executed by the Olmert-led government. You might want to take a look at Amotz Asa-El’s article in this week’s magazine section of the Jerusalem Post.

Now, on the surface, the ominous perspective above may make perfect sense. It would seem to be tantamount to suicide for Israel to act now and remove forty-year-old settlements from the West Bank. But, before we dismiss the Convergence Plan out of hand let us take a closer look at Israel’s previous withdrawals and disengagements and see if they have something to teach us beyond fear and suspicion.

First, what do both the withdrawal from Lebanon in 2000 and the Disengagement from Gaza in 2005 have in common? I suggest two things:

1) In both cases Israel pulled out unilaterally without negotiating with either Lebanon or the Palestinians. While it could be (and, in fact, was) argued that Israel had no negotiating partner, absent of Israel establishing an interlocutor, these pullouts only succeeded in creating a political and military vacuum subsequently filled by Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in Gaza.

2) Again in both cases, Israel’s military pullout left it without a defensive shield capable of rapid and tactical response to any and all attacks upon the home front. Back in 2000, had there been a negotiated settlement between Israel, Lebanon and the international community in which a “robust” international force had been deployed in South Lebanon to implement Security Council Resolution 1559 (as opposed to the vacuous UNIFIL “observers”), Hezbollah may not have been able to establish itself as effectively as it has. And, had Israel disengaged its civilian population while maintaining a military presence in Gaza until and if a moderate Palestinian negotiating party emerged, the Kassam attacks within Israel might have been significantly modulated if not prevented completely.

The observations above clearly indicate that Israel cannot and must not withdraw from Lebanon absent of negotiations and agreements with the Lebanese government and the international community. After what we have experienced this past month, no Israeli government has the mandate to withdraw from Lebanon while leaving its citizens exposed to enemy attack. Any settlement of the present conflict in Lebanon must assure that Hezbollah’s military threat is eliminated and that no military vacuum be allowed in South Lebanon. I think that this is obvious to everyone here in Israel and to most reasonable people abroad.

What is not as clear (especially in light of this weekend’s commentaries on the anniversary of the Disengagement) is how the war in Lebanon and the conflict with the Palestinians impacts the future of any pullout from the West Bank.

To say that today’s events negate any possible withdrawal plan is both simplistic and problematic. There may not be hope for peace with the Palestinians any time soon if Israel withdraws from the West Bank, but there assuredly never will be a chance for peace if it fails to do so. What, then, is the answer?

If ever there will be a land-for-peace settlement with the Palestinians and the establishment of a Palestinian state, then Israel will, inevitably, have to give up its settlements in the West Bank. The question is how and when.

First, before Israel begins to remove settlements beyond a final border with the Palestinians it must be ready to do so. We owe it to those people who (for whatever reason) sacrificed comfort and security to live in and develop their homes in the West bank over the last 39 years, to make sure that there are homes and livelihoods ready for them within the final borders of Israel. This includes preparing and providing—in advance—all the social and financial support and infrastructure necessary to facilitate their move. If nothing else, this was a hard and vital lesson that we learned (it is hoped that we learned) from the experience disengaging from Gaza.

Secondly, while a withdrawal (even unilaterally) of the civilian Israeli population from the West Bank might be undertaken in the near future no such withdrawal of Israel’s military presence on the West Bank should be executed until and unless there is a negotiated settlement with responsible Palestinian partners who can insure the enforcement of any agreement. This second consideration would allow the IDF to protect Israeli citizens from attack by maintaining a strong military presence in the West Bank prior to a negotiated settlement.

It would be tragic for Israel to withdraw from settlements before it is ready to absorb the settlers. And, the only way for Israel to have negotiating flexibility and effectiveness with the Palestinians is if there are no settlements in the way of a peace process. The time is now to begin implementing the necessary logistic and social preparations for a future pullout of civilians from the West Bank.

Therefore, rather than eliminating the possibility for the realization of Olmert’s Convergence Plan, the present conflicts prove to me the very need for it. And, what we learn from the events of the past can give us important insights into how such a plan needs to be structured to allow for its success rather than to insure its failure (as was the case in Gaza).

During these days of alarums—when sirens warn of rockets instead of heralding Shabbat—we should avoid irrational or reactionary alarm. Let us act out of strength, not fear. So may Shabbat be a foretaste of peace with our neighbors rather than an island of peace in a hostile world.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Paratroopers and Puppets

2006-08-10T10:33:00.000+03:00

August 9, 2006

We’re at war there is no doubt about it no matter how politicians, pundits or pollsters characterize it otherwise. Today a massive reserve force gathers at our northern border ready to begin the third phase of the conflict (following the initial air operations and the subsequent limited ground war). Over one million Israelis have been displaced from their homes with some still huddled in bomb shelters while others have found safe haven with friends, family or generous strangers outside the terror zone. Our tourist industry is in crisis. A friend reports that an associate staying at the luxurious David Citadel Hotel was one of the only guests. What promised to be the best year for tourism since the outbreak of the second Intifada now threatens to be a disaster for the economy. It is predicted that the unemployment rate in the north will exceed 14% this year, with some 10,000 businesses on the brink of collapse. That is what happens in wartime and its effects are felt for a very long time after cease-fires bring an end to the military conflict. And the death, destruction and economic devastation is even greater in Lebanon.

This is war and war is ugly. But in surreal juxtaposition to the harsh and brutal news streaming from the Internet, the radio and the television, today Israel observes Tu B’Av. In stark contrast to the somber and sorrowful message of Tisha B’Av, Tu B’Av (the fifteenth of Av) is a day dedicated to romantic love. The Talmud (Tractate Ta’anit) describes Tu B’Av as a joyous kind of Sadie Hawkins day in which young women went out to the vineyards dressed in white while the unmarried men gathered around as the women would say, "Young man, lift up your eyes and choose wisely. Don't look only at physical beauty - look rather at the family - 'For charm is false, and beauty is vanity. A God-fearing woman is the one to be praised...' (Proverbs 31:30)"

While Tisha B’Av commemorates Jewish tragedies, especially those associated with the Temple in Jerusalem, Tu B’Av celebrates many happy events in Jewish history many associated with the Temple. In a commentary on Tu B’Av I read something very interesting. Rabbi Shlomo Aviner (cited on the www.ou.org website) notes that one theme that runs through the events celebrated on Tu B’Av is unity. Thus Tu B’Av can be viewed as a celebration of Jewish unity as expressed in the love that two people can find in one another. Perhaps my mind turns to this theme of romance and harmony because today Wendy and I celebrate our 31st anniversary.

But I find this yin/yang contrast of Tisha B’Av and Tu B’Av within the same week compelling for another reason. Whether by design or coincidence, these two holy days of commemoration express a profound reality: life is contrasts it is the sadness of Tisha B’Av and the joy of Tu B’Av integrated into a wholeness that is life.

So perhaps it is meaningful that in the midst of this war I look out from my balcony and see the fireworks (the colorful kind) coming from the Sultan’s Pool outside the walls of the Old City in celebration of the annual Arts & Crafts festival. During the festivities there will be displays by international artisans, food booths offering delicacies from around the world and a cacophony (my editorial comment) of Israeli pop concerts. Concurrently there is a festival of puppetry running at the Khan and Train Station theaters featuring puppet performances throughout the day and night for adults as well as children—all this celebration of life in the midst of war. Tisha B’Av locked in intimate embrace with Tu B’Av.

These are trying times in which we live. Israel is being challenged on the diplomatic front no less than on the battlefield. There are those who threaten us with a destruction worse than any tragedy in our past. But, in sweet defiance of their curses arises a vision—a celebration—of life: music, food, and art. Tisha B’Av making us confront our fragility and our mortality; Tu B’Av instilling hope and joy for life.

I am concerned about Israel’s immediate security, I am not afraid for Israel’s future. That sentiment is shared, I believe, by all of us here. The situation demands our “paratrooper” response to those who seek to add another woeful event to the Tisha B’Av chronicle, but our embrace of life inspires our Tu B’Av “puppet” celebration of love’s promise and life’s joyful pleasures.

This week is an excellent metaphor of life here in this sacred land. Living in Israel makes me feel more alive and attuned to the world around me as never before. I am aware of the sanctity of life and its precariousness, its joys and its sorrows, here in this land of paratroopers and puppets.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Either/Or

2006-08-10T10:32:00.000+03:00

August 8, 2006

The news today is filled with happenings at the UN. The Security Council was set to vote today (Tuesday) on a joint US-French resolution calling for a cease-fire and the establishment of a “robust” multi-national force to take over the policing of Southern Lebanon until Lebanon’s own forces can effectively implement Security Council Resolution 1559, calling for the disarmament of Hezbollah. Though opposed bitterly by Hezbollah’s leadership, this resolution has Israel’s support and the broadest international support imaginable (including Russian support that was slow in coming because the Russians were slighted in the drafting of the resolution). But, of course, there is a fly in the ointment.

Following a meeting of the Arab League at which Lebanese Prime Minister Fuad Saniora made a tear-filled entreaty to the assembled Arab delegates to intervene with the Security Council on Lebanon’s behalf, the League prevailed upon the Council to allow its representatives to address the body before a final vote. That presentation is scheduled to take place on Tuesday afternoon, making it unlikely that a vote on a resolution will take place any time before Thursday.

What does this mean? Simply, this means that there will be no call for a cease-fire to take place before Thursday. This, of course, assumes that the Security Council will have a resolution prepared to present by then. Thus Israel’s military operations will proceed unhindered by a Security Council brokered cease-fire until then. This has significant implications for Israel’s prosecution of the war during this window of operational opportunity.

This window, however, raises some important military questions. So far, the war has not been going well. This is not the kind of war for which the IDF is best suited. In Lebanon we face a deeply entrenched enemy making the kind of quick, innovative combat at which the IDF excels almost impossible. In order to effectively neutralize Hezbollah’s forces in their bunkers (from which or near which they launch many of their rockets against Israel civilian population) Israel military strategists are faced with an “either/or” option: raise the level of bombing with the consequent lethal effects upon Lebanese civilians; or significantly enhance Israel’s ground operations. The latter option will have the inevitable result of a large number of Israeli military casualties. While the other option will limit the number of Lebanese civilian deaths there is a nagging question about how many of its own military deaths the Israeli public will tolerate. This is as much a political as it is a strategic question. No Israeli decision maker, neither civilian nor military, wants to be responsible for the needless death of even one soldier.

It is not that Israelis are unwilling to make painful sacrifices—we have more than proved that in the past as well as in the present conflict—however, it must be clear that any and all sacrifices are necessary to achieve clear goals. And that, precisely, is the issue here: what are Israel’s specific goals in this war?

Obviously, the primary objective is to restore stability and safety to Northern Israel. At the very least, this means pushing Hezbollah out of Southern Lebanon beyond rocket range of Israeli territory. But, assuming that Hezbollah cannot be removed from Lebanon neither militarily nor politically, what would Israel consider a “tolerable” Hezbollah presence in Lebanon? What if the Arab League is successful in amending the Security Council resolution and Israel is compelled to pull out of Lebanon immediately, before a strong international force can be established? And, can Israel tolerate an end to hostilities that will allow Hezbollah to claim a “victory” and raise its ideological capital even higher in the Arab world? To what extent can Israel count on continued American support if it is unsuccessful in advancing America’s own interests in this conflict? And let us not forget Iran and Syria. Can Israel and the international community, de facto, accept an Iranian presence in Lebanon through its Hezbollah surrogate? What can be gained or lost by giving Syria a place at the negotiating table?

These questions and more occupy our Israeli leaders in the window of time before a formal resolution comes before the Security Council.

On the homefront, I will say that the Israeli public remains steadfastly behind the war effort. This is a battle for the homeland it is not about maintaining occupation or territorial issues. That, precisely, is at the crux of the hostilities with the Palestinians it is not germane to the fight against Hezbollah.

Although voices on both the Left and the Right see the fighting in the South and in the North as one and the same, they are not. Connected, to be sure, but not the same. As I have said before, I think that it is important to make that distinction. With the Palestinians there is much to negotiate and negotiation is more desirable than conflict. With Hezbollah there is no compromise and there can be no negotiation. Hezbollah is an illegal extra-national presence in Lebanon acting on behalf of a third nation, Iran, committed to the elimination of Israel. We Israelis may be divided about the military response to Hamas and the Palestinians; there is very little opposition to the war against Hezbollah. It is significant to note that even organizations such as Peace Now and Rabbis for Human Rights support the military actions in Lebanon, leaving only those on the extreme left to oppose the war.

No, these are not easy and tranquil times, though I must admit that Jerusalem seems so quiet and languid during these dog days of summer. But underneath our apparent summer lethargy, we are actively committed to this effort to bring peace to the North and open our hands, hearts and homes to the one million refugees from Hezbollah’s murderous bombardments. In this cause we will need the help of our friends throughout the world, but especially in America. We need your financial support to be sure (for example, it is estimated by the Jewish National Fund that it will cost upwards of $75 million over the next two years to repair and replant our forests destroyed by rocket fire), but we also need you to be in touch with US government leaders to prevail upon them to continue diplomatic support of Israel at this critical time.

There is much that you can do. You need not be a passive observer to this conflict you can help to make a difference. Take a stand and support Israel.

May God watch over us and all those who seek peace—Israeli, Lebanese and Palestinian alike.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

They Are Our Children

2006-08-10T10:29:00.000+03:00

August 2, 2006

Tonight begins the fast day of Tisha B’Av. It is one of the oldest of Jewish observances recalling the destruction of the temple by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E. Since that time Jews have mourned this national loss and more, whether by coincidence, redaction, or divine destiny, the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av has come to be associated with a number of tragedies in Jewish history. The list spans from ancient times (the destruction of both the First and Second Temples, the latter at the hands of the Romans in 70 C.E.), through the Medieval and Renaissance periods (it is said that the Edict of Expulsion from Spain took effect on this date in 1492), and into modern times (the final obliteration of the Warsaw Ghetto during the Shoah was effected on Tisha B’Av). Tisha B’Av has come to be a powerful metaphor in Judaism.

But, please do not misinterpret this occupation with past tragedies. This day is not about our isolation and persecution at the hands of others; Tisha B’Av reminds us of the resiliency of our people and the undying power of our faith. Traditionally, Jews fast for 25 hours on Tisha B’Av and hold special services in which, by candle light and sitting on the floor in the manner of mourners, we read the Book of Lamentations.

I have always had mixed-feelings about Tisha B’Av. Especially since 1967 when all of Jerusalem (including the site of the Temples) was restored to the Jewish people, I have questioned the practice of continued mourning over events so distant in our past. Yet, the events of the past three weeks have reminded me the importance of remembering and of learning from the past. The struggle for our survival continues because there are still those forces in the world that intend our destruction. If we have learned nothing else from our legacy of tragedies, we have learned that we must be strong, unified and resolute in facing those who hate us. At the same time, knowing injustice so well ourselves, we must constantly evaluate our actions as we respond to those who threaten us.

This brings me to an article in today’s Jerusalem Post that I found most meaningful in appeared on page 5 (it was obviously not considered “hot news”) and entitled: “MKs worry about their children at the front.” The article indicated that no less than six members of the Knesset (out of 120) have children fighting in Lebanon. Moreover, a majority of the Knesset has at least one child or grandchild in the reserves. That means that any decision to go to war or to escalate the hostilities is a personal decision for our legislators. The fact that most of the top brass in the military is in the same position, you can be sure that any military actions are considered most carefully and astutely before committing troops in any action. What other country in the world can make a similar claim?

In contrast to Hezbollah which is willing to sacrifice every Lebanese civilian (other than their own families) to further its cause or those who send suicide bombers (never their own children) to wreak death and destruction in Israel, those who send the IDF out to fight know that they are putting their own children at risk. Who would cavalierly put their children in jeopardy, especially those whose faith places such value on all human life?

Let others criticize Israel as they might, are they really so cynical as to believe that we do not care about our children? This war is necessary for our survival. If you need proof, consider the sacrifices made by those whose deliberations impact the military policies consequent to those decisions. We do not take our survival lightly. History has taught us otherwise. That is the real meaning and modern significance of Tisha B’Av.

And so, I will be fasting this Tisha B’Av, though not in the manner of most of my Orthodox coreligionists who will refrain from food and drink for twenty-five hours. Following a custom observed by some Conservative Jews (based on variant traditional opinion), I will fast until midday, lest “it appear as though we are oblivious to all the good that God has bestowed on us,” according to Rabbi Tzvi Graetz of Shevet Ahim Congregation in Jerusalem’s Gilo neighborhood.

At this time I recall how fragile, how tenuous security and freedom are and have been for the Jewish people. So, too, do I give thanks to God for the blessing of our continued survival and vitality. This Shabbat, reading from the prophet Isaiah (“Comfort, comfort My people…”), we begin a period of solace and hope emerging from the sober reminders of Tisha B’Av. May God bless us now with days of hope that the present conflicts (with Hezbollah and with the Palestinians) be resolved and our security and freedom insured. With faith in the future…

Shalom from Jerusalem.

The Difference Between Them and Us

2006-08-10T10:22:00.000+03:00

Monday, July 31, 2006

It goes without saying, but it needs to be said, that the deaths of the civilians on Sunday at Kafr Kana is a tragedy. Life, all life, is sacred in Judaism—even the life of your enemy.

I am reminded of the rabbis’ commentary to the drowning of the Egyptians in the Red Sea following the Exodus. The Midrash teaches that the angels on high saw the Egyptian soldiers and their chariots sinking in the sea and joyfully burst out in song in honor of Israel’s “triumph.” In response, God silenced the angels and said: “My children are drowning, how can you sing?” And that is why during the Passover Seder we take ten drops from our wine cups (the symbol of joy) as each of the Ten Plagues is recalled—we cannot have unmitigated joy, even for our liberation, when it comes at the price of human life.

If this is true for those pursuing us seeking our destruction, how much the more so for innocents caught up in the horrors of war? And so, our Israeli leaders immediately expressed regret for the deaths, a 48-hour suspension of bombing Lebanon has been called so that a proper investigation of the tragic incident can be conducted and in the Israeli streets there is a tangible sense of regret that these people had to die. There is no singing and rejoicing here, neither by Israelis nor by any angels on high.

And that, dear friends, is part of the difference between them and us — we do not target civilians, their rockets and missiles specifically do. We mourn the loss of innocent life; they hold “spontaneous” rallies when our women, men and children die. We do everything possible to protect our non-combatants; they intentionally use civilians (even children) as human shields for their operations.

And that is what makes prosecuting this war so difficult.

The media decries Israel’s “disproportionate” military response and questions the legitimacy of continuing the war against Hezbollah. Western diplomats call upon Israel to accept an immediate cease-fire while the rocket-rain of death continues to fall on civilian population centers in Israel. In the capitals of Arab countries where there is no love lost on Hezbollah, rulers and despots shout “War crimes!” Indeed, one might well argue that there is a worldwide “disproportionate” moral response to the jeopardizing of innocents in this war; holding Israel culpable for all deaths while absolving the guilt of Hezbollah (and the government of Lebanon in which Hezbollah continues to play an active role).

Consider the following:

Israel has publicly declared that this war is against Hezbollah and not against the Lebanese government or Lebanese civilians.
Hezbollah has proclaimed to the world that its aim is the destruction of Israel and that all Israelis are targeted as “the enemy.”
Israel consistently goes out of its way to minimize civilian casualties as official military policy and when there is a loss of civilian life a military investigation is usually carried out immediately.
Hezbollah specifically targets civilian centers, calling them “military” targets (in other words, Hezbollah itself makes no distinction between combatants and non-combatants as legitimate targets).
Israel’s military does everything possible to keep hostilities away from its civilian population (that is why it is called the Israel Defense Forces).
Hezbollah uses civilians as human shields as a cover for its operations and to “protect” its weapons caches and strongholds, and then when civilians become casualties, it uses the tragedy to advance its own propaganda agenda.
When an Israeli soldier dies, the IDF and the Israeli people extend their deepest sympathies and mourn with the family.
When a Hezbollah fighter is killed (or any other Arab caught up in the fighting), the family is called upon to “rejoice” over the martyrdom.

The observations above are not tendentious interpretations intended to whitewash Israeli actions, they are facts. Though there may certainly be exceptions to any of the statements, I challenge anyone to disprove them categorically.
That still does not bring back the dead from Kafr Kana, or those from Haifa either. But, I ask you to consider the following facts about what happened in Kafr Kana when confronting unilateral condemnation of Israel for this tragedy.

The IDF publicly and in a timely manner warned the civilian population in South Lebanon to remove themselves from the hostilities.
Hezbollah forces have blocked the free-flow of civilian refugees from South Lebanon, preventing many from escaping to the relative safety of the north.
There are IDF surveillance videos showing Hezbollah rocket launchers moving into and launched out of Kafr Kana and its immediate vicinity.
The building in which the innocent civilians took refuge for the night was bombed seven hours before the collapse of the building (these people did not die during an Israeli bombing).
And again, Hezbollah—as a matter of policy—used these same civilians as a shield to cover their military operations against civilians in Israel.

While it is true that no justification of the IDF’s actions can revive these people or erase the suffering of innocents, shouldn’t the world pause and consider the facts before laying the blame on Israel alone? Why the disproportionate moral response to this tragedy?

So why is it that Israel gets all the blame and Hezbollah gets virtually none? Why is Israel called upon (rightly) to observe all the minutiae of international law while Hezbollah is not? Cynically, we know the answers, don’t we? War is not, after all, about morality it is about politics and the strategies necessary to achieve specific ideological goals. That is realpolitik, isn’t it?

Israel’s goals are to achieve the right to live peacefully in the State of Israel. This has been stated time and time again. Hezbollah’s goals are to destroy Israel and to spread its radical form of Islam from Spain to Iraq (echoed in the words of Ayman al-Zawahri the second-in-command of Al Qaida). That, my friends, is the difference between them and us. We know it and we must do all that we can to make sure that the leaders of the world acknowledge it. It must strengthen our resolve to persevere, not cower us into submission.

Pray for us—by that I mean all of us, Israelis and Lebanese and Palestinian—pray for the success of all those whose goals are peace, real peace.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Days Between the Straits

2006-08-10T10:20:00.000+03:00

Thursday, July 27, 2006

The news wasn’t good today. This has been (by Israel’s standards) are very difficult and protracted war. Hezbollah has proven to be a disciplined, well-equipped and tenacious foe. Losing scores of fighters (who become instant martyrs) doesn’t seem to faze them and merely standing up to Israel’s vastly superior military might is seen throughout the Arab world as a major victory.

This is no conventional war. We are not fighting a regular army on the battlefield. Hezbollah fights a guerilla war and has tactically strikes from within civilian population centers. The result is that any Israeli operation against Hezbollah strongholds results in more civilian than terrorist casualties. This is precisely Hezbollah’s modus operandi…the more fighters they lose, the more civilians die, giving them a propaganda edge. And this tactic works. The world continues to decry Israel’s disproportional response when, in fact, Israel more than any military force in history has gone out of its way to minimize non-combatant casualties. So, who is to blame for the disproportional number of civilian dead and wounded, Israel or Hezbollah?

Unfortunately, logic does not make headlines. Thus Israel continues to be vilified for finally standing up to Hezbollah and unilaterally assuming responsibility for implementing Security Council Resolution 1559. Adding insult to injury the United Nations Secretary General himself spreads the calumny that Israel knowingly targeted UNIFIL troops and, while accepting Prime Minister Olmert’s apology for the deaths and promise to launch a full-scale investigation there has been no reciprocal apology from Kofi Anan for his libelous remarks.

The main headlines in the papers today are about the continued fighting in Bint Jbail. Yesterday’s banner read: “IDF takes Bint Jbail, kills top Hizbollah leader.” Today’s headline gives a very different story: “8 soldiers killed in Battle of Bint Jbail.” The IDF action against Hezbollah’s terrorist stronghold has not provided the symbolic victory that would crush Hezbollah’s spirit as promised. On the contrary, Hezbollah resistance in Bint Jbail is proving to be another propaganda coup for the terrorists and their Iranian sponsors.

No, the news has not been good today but that is the nature of war. This country is on a roller coaster of emotions rising with confidence in victory one moment only to plunge into concern and despair the next as we learn of the deaths of our soldiers, our sons. I say “our sons” because that is what it feels like here; the men and women of the IDF are our children and we cherish them. That is why Israel responds to casualties in ways that are unique to the Israeli ethos.

Just today, reading about the battles in Bint Jbail, I came across an article on the evacuation of the wounded to Israeli base hospitals. Arriving at the hospitals many of the soldiers were met by their mothers who rushed to the side of their wounded sons. I wonder in what other country in the world would you find that happening? And as for our fallen, they are not our martyrs and we do not rejoice in their elevation to Paradise—they are heroes, but they are our sons and our future who have sacrificed themselves for our survival; not our aggrandizement but our survival.

Jerusalem Post journalist Matthew Wagner wrote in today’s edition that the fighting in the North has taken place during the three-week period between the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av. In ancient times this was the period between the time that the Babylonians first breached the walls of the Holy City and the Destruction of Jerusalem’s holy Temple in 586 B.C.E. In Jewish history, the 9th of Av is a vortex of woe commemorating countless tragedies that have befallen the Jewish people throughout history specifically during this time. This period—called by the rabbis Bein Hameitzarim (between the straits)—witnessed the destruction of both the First and Second Temples (the latter at the hands of the Romans in the year 70 C.E.), the Edict of Expulsion from Spain, the elimination of the Warsaw Ghetto and many more events that have tried and tested our people throughout history. As Wagner notes that, “Many Jews cannot help noticing the timing of the warfare in the North, which has fallen smack in the middle of Bein Hameitzarim.” That is true, but next week is Tisha B’Av, the 9th of Av, which ends this period and begins the Seven Weeks of Comfort in which we read portions from the Prophets expressing hope and our closeness to God.

We did not ask for this war. We did not start it. Contrary to the rantings of Hezbollah’s Hassan Nasrallah we did not chose the timing. But, neither do we shrink from the task or cower in the face of our enemy. The news may not be good today, but our resolve is as strong as ever. Our forces demonstrate incredible courage on the battlefield and the home front remains united and resolute.

Though you may hear negativity and harsh criticism of Israel today and tomorrow, please do not lose faith. I firmly believe that what we are doing is right— all the while cognizant of the many innocents on both sides who are victims of this war—but right. We are fighting to bring peace while Hezbollah, by its own admission seeks our destruction. Maybe this period Bein Hameitzarim is auspicious, not because it chronicles our frailty, on the contrary, because it reminds us that time and again we Jews have faced those who have sought to destroy us and we have survived and more, we have thrived. So too, at this moment, we are about survival and a vision of a thriving Middle East nourished by peace and prosperity victorious over forces of death and destruction.

In the celebratory Psalms of the Hallel, we read:

In my straits (Meitzar) I called upon the Eternal One;
God answered me and set me free.
Adonai is with me;
I shall not be afraid.

I repeat those words not out of jingoistic hubris suggesting that God is only on Israel’s side. On the contrary, keeping God in these events brings responsibility to make sure that we prosecute this war as morally as the immorality of war allows. But, I quote the Hallel because I believe that the psalmist brings us this message: with faith we can be set free from the straits of this war and turn the lamentations of the mothers of the fallen soldiers into joyous psalms of thanksgiving for our survival and victory.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Howya Gonna Keep ‘Em Down on the Farm?

2006-08-10T10:17:00.000+03:00

July 26, 2006

Well, Condi has come and gone and the war in the north goes on. What is significant, though not at all surprising, is that the American Secretary of State arrived with no intentions of pressuring Israel into an immediate cease-fire with Hezbollah, nor did she give an American carte blanche to Israel in its prosecution of the war. It was, I believe, a tactical coup for Secretary Rice to arrange a “surprise” visit to Beirut prior to her stop-off in Jerusalem before traveling to Rome for the international conference on the crisis in Lebanon and Israel’s north. I emphasize the latter because most media reports describe the meeting as focusing on Lebanon. While it is true that the crux of the issue to be discussed will be the implementation of Security Council Resolution 1559, there will also be much talk about the suffering this war has imposed on Lebanon’s civilian population. I hope that those gathered in Rome will also take into account the suffering imposed upon Israeli civilians—more than a million in the north victimized by the incessant rocket barrages from Hezbollah. Israel will accept no decision to end the present crisis that does not include the neutralizing of Hezbollah’s ability to threaten the lives and welfare of Israeli citizens.

What is striking about the Rome conference is the absence of the key players in the conflict except for Lebanon itself. Israel’s absence, I would aver, is to its benefit. Were Israel to be a party in the face-to-face deliberations it is very likely that a consensus would develop for the immediate cessation of military actions by Israel. This pressure would be much more difficult for Israel to resist in Rome rather than as part of a negotiations package at a later date.

But, also “missing” at the table are both Syria and Iran the key backers of Hezbollah. It is important that neither be given a direct voice as this would give them the recognition and pivotal role that they both seek. Iran wants to establish itself as the clear leader of a pan-Muslim order imposed upon the Middle East by it cadres of jihadist forces. This is true not only as regards Hezbollah, but also vis a vis Hamas, and the insurgents in Iraq and Afghanistan. Iran’s race to develop nuclear weapons is part of its ambitions for Islamic hegemony over the entire Middle East. In this enterprise Syria serves as Iran’s junior partner.

That is precisely why it should not surprise anyone that the Arab governments of Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and even Lebanon itself have not refrained from criticizing Hezbollah as a “state within a state,” that threatens Lebanon’s stability. The unprecedented tacit acceptance of Israel’s actions against Hezbollah heralds a new phase in the turmoils that have plagued the Middle East for generations. The established governments in the Middle East are just as threatened by Iran as is Israel.

Heretofore, Israel’s chief enemies were the confrontation states aligned along its borders. With the exception of Syria, none of the old guard confrontation states pose an immediate threat to Israel. There are peace accords with Egypt and Jordan that have stood the test of time and past crises. Saudi Arabia is in no position to pose a military threat (even in past conflicts, preferring to pay for others to fight rather than expose its own forces), and Lebanon would not present a problem were it not for the presence of Hezbollah (and, to a lesser extent the Palestinians) in its territory. That leaves only Syria—the toothless tiger—as a potential military threat to Israel.

Politically too, there have been major shifts in the Muslim world. Abdel Nasser’s goal of an Egyptian dominated United Arab Republic is gone now. So too, Syria’s ambitions for a greater Syria (including Lebanon, Israel and Iraq) are no more than a pipe dream, although this explains Syria’s involvement in the present crisis. Syria’s goals are national, not religious as Syria’s Baathist regime has secular-nationalistic roots.

What has replaced these previous pan-Arab visions is a new call for an Islamic Caliphate—this one based in Iran and spreading the ayatollah-brand of fundamentalism throughout the Middle East. In this new Islamic order non-Shiite Muslims are just as threatened as non-Muslims. “Iran’s war” is not about territory it is about ideology. That makes Syria’s siding with Iran bizarre, except that this coalition is tactically advantageous for both sides, though potentially strategically disastrous for Syria.

In Iran’s war there can be no “land for peace” compromises. Israel’s very existence as a non-Islamic state runs counter to Iran’s ideology. What President Ahmadinejad has been saying about wiping Israel off the map is not idle talk it is fundamental to Iran’s geo-political goals based on its religious principles. Hezbollah is the military finger of Iran’s hand. There can be no more compromise with Hezbollah than with Iran. Hezbollah doesn’t want more land it wants to eliminate Israel’s very existence.

And yet, the rationalization that Hezbollah uses to justify its own existence following Israel’s withdrawl from Lebanon in 1999 is that Israel did not withdraw from all of Lebanon. Hezbollah claims that Israel retained a ten square mile area bordered by Israel, Lebanon and Syria called the Shaba Farms (the area is called Har Dov in Hebrew). The United Nations, after exhaustive studies of area maps, determined that the area of the Shaba Farms was Syrian territory occupied by Israel since 1967. Though Lebanon claims the Shaba Farms (giving Hezbollah its excuse that it continues to fight for the liberation of Lebanese territory occupied by Israel), Syria has never relinquished its claims—claims that have been consistently upheld by the United Nations.

Now there are rumblings that Hezbollah might consider a cease-fire if Israel released Lebanese prisoners held in Israeli jails and relinquished the strategically positioned Shaba Farms to Lebanese sovereignty. Israel is not prepared to meet either demand. However, the fact that Hezbollah is even raising such proposals seems to indicate that its forces have been significantly compromised in this war.

And so, we wait for the deliberations in Rome to see what develops. So far there has been little pressure on Israel to immediately and unilaterally end hostilities and such as there has been has been coming, in the main, from the streets and not the state houses. Meanwhile, one million people in the north of Israel have had their lives disrupted. About 70% are said to have fled to safer areas in the south, the remaining Israelis (those too poor, too ill, too old or whose jobs require them to stay) live each day in bomb shelters or safe rooms and keep their ears ever attuned to the sound of the sirens warning of a new rocket attack.

And still we pray for peace. There may be no negotiating with Hezbollah (and, by extrapolation Iran), but Israel would be making a grave mistake, I believe, if it assumes the same attitude regarding the Palestinians. There may not be a moderate faction in Hamas with whom to open dialogue, but Mahmud Abbas remains open to negotiations. Israel needs to separate the Palestinian issue from the war in the north though the links between Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran are quite evident. Unfortunately there are many voices taking the opposite view equating the Palestinian issue and their aspirations for statehood and Hezbollah’s aim of destroying Israel and establishing a fundamentalist Islamic state in its stead. Now is the time to strengthen the hands of Palestinian moderates while the world’s sympathies are against Hamas and Hezbollah. Let’s wait and see what happens…

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Connecting the Dots

2006-08-10T10:16:00.000+03:00

July 23, 2006

To date I have tried to keep my reflections on the war in the north confined to the events as they unfold in Lebanon and Israel. In the course of the observations I have noted the obvious connections between Hezbollah’s wanton aggression against Israel and the geopolitical machinations of Iran and Syria. It is patently clear to everyone that Hezbollah is the surrogate of Iran and Syria. But, why would Teheran and Damascus unleash Hezbollah at this particular point in time?

It has been widely speculated that Iran fomented this crisis in order to divert the world’s attention from its continued defiance against calls to curb its nuclear program. It certainly smacks of being more than coincidence when the chief Iranian nuclear negotiator Ali Larijani stopped off in Damascus on his way home from inconclusive talks with the negotiators from the EU. Almost immediately after this meeting Hezbollah abducted the two soldiers (killing eight others it should be remembered), setting off the present crisis. And, sure enough, when the G-8 meeting of world leaders took place the war in Lebanon had replaced the Iran nuclear issue at the top of the agenda.

But there’s more…

We hear so much criticism of Israel’s “disproportionate” response to Hezbollah’s aggression. The media reports from almost every quarter in the world that politicians and diplomats are bemoaning the tragic loss of life and the destruction of vital infrastructures in Lebanon. Yes, the world cries out and criticizes Israel freely and yet there has been no serious attempt by the United States or the EU to pressure Israel into a cease-fire. Why not?

This is where I may be pushing the envelope of reason, but here goes…

Perhaps there is more going on here than meets the eye. Obviously, the negotiations with Iran are going nowhere fast. Iran has no intention of curtailing its nuclear program and is doing everything it can to develop a nuclear bomb. Is there anyone left in the civilized world that doubts this? Also, it is not likely that the EU, the United States, Russia and China will come to an agreement to impose real and effective sanctions against Iran to force it to discontinue its nuclear program. And, without the agreement of those countries there is no way that the Security Council will take any significant action.

So, where does that leave us?

If there is little chance of sanctions being effective against Iran, the only other option that seems to be available is the military option. Someone (in truth either the United States or Israel) will have to strike out militarily against key installations in the Iranian nuclear program in order to stop the clock on Iran’s nuclear ambitions. And what is preventing the United States and/or Israel from doing just that? Hezbollah.

Perched on Israel’s border, Hezbollah has amassed a military capability that we are only just beginning to understand. After days and days of relentless bombing, much of Hezbollah’s might (some say as much as 80-90%) is still in tact. Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah continues to boast that Hezbollah still has many “surprises” for Israel. Surprises? What surprises?

It would not surprise me at all that Iran has supplied Hezbollah with even longer range rockets than have been used up to now. Rockets that might even be capable of delivering more deadly payloads. It would be safe to assume that these weapons IF THEY EXIST (after all, this would not be the first time that the Iranians have been bluffing) are in the control of the Iranians themselves. Even they would not trust their minions in Hezbollah with such weapons. This might well be Iran’s ace in the hole as a deterrent to any US or Israeli actions against their nuclear infrastructure.

But maybe Iran miscalculated this time. If Israel succeeds in neutralizing Hezbollah’s military threat then Hezbollah’s effectiveness as a threatening shield against attacks on Iran’s nuclear facilities would be nullified. This could be accomplished either directly as a result of the present conflict or by the international community working to push Hezbollah back from the confrontation lines by bringing the Lebanese army or international troops or a combination of the two into the area above Israel’s northern border, putting Israel beyond the reach of Hezbollah’s rockets.

Could it be that the international community, well aware of these realities, is sitting on the sidelines criticizing Israel but taking little other action to stop Israel from significantly weakening Hezbollah precisely because it wants Israel to prevail? If so, it could well be that sometime this year we might see firmer actions, either economic or military, taken against Iran’s nuclear ambitions. This could well be the beginning of the end of Iran’s nuclear threat to the world.

Please realize that this may be no more than idle speculation—something to do while incessantly watching the news on TV. But still, it makes you stop and think, doesn’t it?

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Another Casualty of War

2006-08-10T10:14:00.000+03:00

July 21, 2006

Though things in Jerusalem remain relatively quiet, it has been a while since I wrote my last update, not because I have had nothing to report but, rather, because my internet connection has fallen victim to the troubled times through which we are now living. A power surge affected Bezeq’s (Israel’s Ma Bell) telephone lines through which much of our internet traffic moves. This has resulted in a disruption of service for Bezeq’s internet customers of which I am one. That has meant no email and sporadic use of any internet resources. But, we are back up (for now) and I am able to communicate with you once more.

To date, the war in the north is in its ninth day. Here it is called the “War in the North,” not the “Lebanese War.” Despite the impression given by the media, the war is not being waged in Lebanon alone. As the thousands upon thousands of Israelis who live north of Tel Aviv will attest, this war is being fought in Israel as well as in Lebanon.

Israeli jets, helicopter gunships, armed drones and artillery are hammering sites considered strategic military targets used by Hezbollah to harass Israel and to control and extort the Lebanese people. Unfortunately in the course of these operations some 300 Lebanese have been killed and thousands injured. Many of these casualties are the innocent victims of war. It is tragic and should not happen, but it does—in times of war the innocent suffer.

But let us not loose sight of the fact that Hezbollah began this war by abducting two Israeli soldiers and killing eight others. Then it began its barrage of rockets that have reached Israel’s heartland and have taken the lives of over thirty Israelis and injured hundreds more. Nearly a fifth of Israel’s population must stay close to bomb shelters and safe rooms for fear of the next rocket to fall. And this should be clear to all of us, Hezbollah considers every Israeli city, town and village and everyone who lives in them (including thousands of Israeli Arabs, Druse and Circassians) a military target. Innocent Lebanese die as a tragic consequence of war while Israeli civilians are specifically targeted by Hezbollah.

And the world speaks of disproportionate response. What, I ask, is a proportionate response? Does Israel limit its self-defense when there are an equivalent number of casualties on each side—is war a matter of keeping score? What war could ever be prosecuted under such strictures? And so the disproportionate response continues and seems to be bearing some fruit.

While the nations of the international community continue to criticize the magnitude of the Israeli military response they have been uncharacteristically slow in demanding a cessation of hostilities. With the exception of the snake pits of terror, namely Teheran, Damascus and North Korea, the nations of the world—and especially the United Nations—has not demanded of Israel that it halt its military actions before its four conditions are met, namely the unconditional release of the two captive soldiers, the immediate cessation of the rocket attacks by Hezbollah, the deployment of Lebanon’s legitimate army on Israel’s northern border and the dismantling of Hezbollah’s military in accordance with Security Council Resolution 1559.

And more, Hezbollah is definitely losing the propaganda war. In today’s Jerusalem Post it was reported that the Lebanese Prime Minister, Fuad Saniora, and Lebanese Druse leader, Walid Jumblatt, in separate interviews criticized Hezbollah’s “state within a state,” and called for the group to be disarmed and accusing Syria of seeking to destroy Lebanon. It was reported in yesterday’s Post that some of the Hamas leadership of the Palestinians are becoming increasingly worried that they and their cause will be identified with Hezbollah’s war. These Palestinians realize that Hezbollah is receiving a lot of bad press lately and they are concerned that their cause will be sullied bu association. Meanwhile Palestinians march through Gaza and in Nablus in support of Hassan Nasrallah and Hezbollah and cheering them on to rain down more rockets upon Israel. This is reminiscent of similar marches in support of Saddam Hussein during the first Gulf War. For now, the war in the north against Hezbollah has eclipsed the troubles in Gaza.

This last point has a disturbing consequence. Realizing that they need to retake center stage in the struggle against Israel, various Palestinian factions—including the military wings of the ruling Hamas and Mahmud Abbas’ Fatah movement—have been encouraged to attempt ever more aggressive terrorist operations within Israel. Already at least two major suicide bombing attempts have been thwarted by Israeli forces.

In the meantime, Israel’s military forces continue the war against Hezbollah including limited engagements on the ground in Lebanon. There is talk of calling for a truce rather than for a cease-fire, the former being less formal than the latter. And Lebanese officialdom continues to appeal to the world as innocent victims of this war between Israel and Hezbollah. But I have a question for the leaders of Lebanon—if the government of Lebanon is not culpable for and complicit in the actions of Hezbollah, how is it that Hezbollah remains within the Lebanese government? Why have its representatives and ministers not been expelled from the halls of government? Prime Minister Saniora has not (and will not) address this question. But why are not the nations of the world and especially the United Nations pressing the issue?

If the Lebanese government is complicit (actively or passively) in Hezbollah’s actions, then it cannot call itself an innocent victim of this war and must shoulder responsibility for hostile actions against Israel taken by members of Lebanon’s coalition government. The plaints of innocence by Lebanon’s leaders are disproportionate to their responsibility for Hezbollah’s war and its tragic consequence for so many truly innocent Lebanese and Israelis. We should not allow the truth to become another casualty of war.

The war will end, not by military means, but through negotiation and diplomacy. We are, I feel, moving closer to that stage every day. Though troublesome, the news is not all disturbing. I am encouraged by what I read in the back pages more than by the front page news.

We pray that this war may end soon so that the Lebanese can return to their homes and begin the arduous process of rebuilding their country. So, too, may the Israelis now living in bomb shelters and safe rooms be allowed to return to their normal lives free of fear for their safety. Soon may we—on both sides—stop burying our dead and begin to live in peace.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

War in Real Time

2006-08-10T10:12:00.000+03:00

Tuesday morning, July 18, 2006

Just about every day since we’ve gotten home I have been up at 5:00 AM and at the computer reading the latest updates on the war in the north from the Jerusalem Post, Ha’Aretz, and Y-Net. This is in addition to the constant drone of the news coming from the TV, ever-present in the background. Even here in Jerusalem (and elsewhere south of Tel Aviv and away from Gaza) where you would hardly know that this crisis is unfolding, the wars now being waged with Hezbollah in the north and Hamas in Gaza are a kind of leit motif to daily life. Everyone is affected because Israel is a small country and there are only about two degrees of separation between people here.

And so we wait, we watch and we listen. I try to get work done between stints in front of the TV switching between the Israeli Hebrew news, CNN, SKY News, BBC News, and Fox News, with an occasional foray to Al Jazeera (to watch the pictures of what they are broadcasting as I cannot understand Arabic—yet). Every source of information is valuable. Despite military censors who justifiably forbid real-time broadcasting of rocket attacks (lest Hezbollah have an on-site source to help them direct their salvos), there has been at least one instance yesterday when a rocket hit in Haifa as the Israeli reporter on-the-scene was broadcasting. We saw the rocket hit at the very moment of impact and saw the smoke billowing from the residential building that was struck. This is really “war in real time.”

The morale in Israel is high, by no means buoyant, but resolute and united. For the general public, whatever we can put our hands to do to help out, we do. As I write these words, Wendy is at the IRAC (Israel Religious Action Center) office volunteering on a project to put together guidelines for Reform congregations (and others) on the frontlines to see to the needs of their congregants during this crisis. With whom to be in touch, what needs must be met, how local congregations can rally in support—all these concerns are being addressed as the whole country galvanizes and mobilizes to meet this challenge.

We are also seeing to the needs of the many tourists—especially youth groups—who find themselves in the country during this difficult time. Very few have cut their visits short to leave the country. Travel plans have changed to keep groups in the safety of the southern part of the country, but the groups are staying. I just spoke to Melinda Weiss, one of our Temple Beth Sholom kids—three of whom are here with the Orange County TIES summer trip—who spoke with enthusiasm about being here, even now. They are precious treasures and are being protected as such, but they are also goodwill ambassadors from abroad whose support and solidarity is enormously appreciated. They are learning first-hand the meaning of the saying, “All Jews are dependent [literally “mixed up” with] each other.” Ours is a shared destiny and when a Jew in Haifa is wounded, a Jew in Orange County, California feels pain.

And so events unfold. So far, there has been no significant commitment of Israeli ground troops in Lebanon. The air strikes and artillery barrages by the IDF appear to have had a significant impact upon Hezbollah’s military capabilities. The rockets and Katyushas are still coming, but there are clear indications that the Israeli military response is taking its toll. Daily sorties over Dahiya, the Beirut suburb controlled by Hezbollah and where Sheikh Hassan Nasrallah (the leader of Hezbollah) is holed up in an underground bunker, are having their effect. The last video communication from Nasrallah, though bellicose and threatening, betrays the increasingly desperate situation of Hezbollah and its leadership.

Signifanctly, the media here reports that Hezbollah (and Hamas) have not succeeded in rallying Arab governments to their cause. On the contrary, voices of criticism are being raised in the Arab world. As cited in today’s Jerusalem Post, Tarek Hamo, a prominent Arab commentator, has mockingly drawn parallels between Nasrallah’s rantings and those of Saddam Hussein prior to the Iraq war. “Nasrallah is now in hiding and his fate won’t be better than that of Saddam, whose hiding was in a deep hole,” he stated. Lebanese Christian Joseph Bishara is quoted as saying, “How can we ask Israel to have mercy on Lebanon while Hizbollah [sic] is betraying Lebanon day and night.” This comment appeared on a Saudi Arabian new site. Only Iran, Syria and the Palestinians have come out clearly and strongly in support of Hezbollah.

And, as for Iran, today’s media report that Iran has raised the possibility of a cease-fire and prisoner exchange to resolve the conflict. This is a departure from Teheran’s usual jingoistic rhetoric. Iran obviously realizes that there has been a tactical blunder at best—or worse, a major strategic setback as a result of the Hezbollah misadventure. It seems possible that Iran is trying to salvage what it can from this military fiasco and its miscalculations regarding Israel’s response to Hezbollah aggression.

This is not to suggest that the conflict is anywhere near a resolution. Hezbollah still maintains considerable military strength including (it is believed) mid-range missiles able to reach Tel Aviv and powerful anti-tank weapons capable of slowing down a major ground offensive. The Hezbollah leadership is still mainly intact and it continues to receive logistical and financial support from Iran and Syria. It may be weakened but by no means eliminated as a threat to Israel and the region.

In the next few days UN representatives will be attempting to find a diplomatic solution to the crisis. US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice is reported to be planning a trip here by the end of the week. These developments may well portend that the international community will begin to apply pressure upon Israel to diminish or curtail its military response to Hezbollah’s aggression. The window for action may be closing and so the hours and days to come will determine whether or not Hezbollah can be weakened enough to allow for negotiations to be effective and for any kind of real ceasefire to be established, restoring quite and security to Israel.

As Prime Minister Ehud Olmert said in his speech to the Knesset yesterday, Israel is entitled to nothing less than “everything that everyone in the enlightened world takes for granted and never imagined that they would have to fight for—the right to a normal life. It is a difficult battle.”

Shalom from Jerusalem

What a Difference a Word Makes

2006-07-17T23:39:00.000+03:00

After a long hiatus from writing these reflections we returned to a situation that warrants more than the occasional thought. So, I am writing again just a few days since my last communication with you. Thanks to the many of you who wrote expressing your concerns. Believe it or not, just a word of encouragement is very heartening and most appreciated.

Living in Israel this past year has taught me that Hebrew is much more than grammar and vocabulary. There is an ethos to the language expressed through the nuances of expression, inflection, syntax and word choice. How an idea is expressed can communicate as much as the words themselves. Yesterday the Hebrew language media referred to the present conflict with Hezbollah in Lebanon as the “fighting” in the north (l’himah ba-tzafon), today the language changed to the “war” in the north (milhamah ba-tzafon). The subtle change of wording (both derived from the same Hebrew root) conveys the heightened state of gravity in the situation. No longer is this simply a military operation it is now a more advanced conflict. Several hundred rocket and katyusha attacks have begun to take their toll.

Throughout the day Hezbollah has been launching rockets and katyushas (of increasing range), even hitting a train depot in Haifa killing eight and wounding over fifty civilians. Many of these rockets are launched from private homes, putting Lebanese civilians directly in harm’s way when Israeli warplanes and artillery target the launch sites. That is Hezbollah’s cynical modus operandi—it uses civilians as human shields then cries out against Israel’s brutality in targeting innocent non-combatants.

This calculated tactic of Hezbollah is encouraged by those nations and international bodies that describe Israel’s self-defense measures as “disproportional response” to Hezbollah’s rocket attacks and the abduction of the two Israeli soldiers last week. I wonder if any other country in the world would have acted less forcefully to such a wonton act of aggression? Perhaps I am becoming too cynical, but I have come to expect such foolishness from the states of the European Union and from the jaded voices of the United Nations.

Despite the gravity of the situation, or perhaps in response to it, there is amazing calm here. The population from Tel Aviv north has been advised to stay indoors, preferably in secure rooms or shelters. Hourly there are advisories on the television outlining procedures to be followed in the event of hearing a warning siren. And, with all this, life goes on incredibly normally.

NFTY, the Reform youth movement has some 600 teenagers in the country. The itinerary has changed to keep them safely away from the north, but none have gone home. Last night my wifeand I joined our friends at their home hosting about three-dozen NFTY parents who are here visiting their kids. On Tuesday night we are hosting a program in our apartment for about 15 NFTYites because their social action program in Haifa had to be relocated to Jerusalem. In no time at all the NFTY staff was able to recruit Reform rabbis and educators in the capital to volunteer their time and their homes to create alternative programs. That same spirit is replicated all over this country as people here reach out to others in a myriad of small but significant ways as an expression of national resolve at this time of crisis. No one is daunted; no one is cowed by the threats spewed our way from Hezbollah and from Iran. This country is more united than ever. That is Israel. That is why I am so proud to be an Israeli and grateful for the opportunity to live here.

Please take a moment and offer a prayer for those families who have lost dear ones. Pray as well for the healing of those wounded in body, mind and spirit. Also, ask God to watch over our military personnel who risk their lives to protect us. And, it is not in dissonance with those prayers to ask God to take pity upon those innocent Lebanese and Palestinians who have been made to suffer because of the callous actions of the Hamas and Hezbollah terrorists.

Shalom from Jerusalem

An Eventful Homecoming

2006-07-16T08:58:00.000+03:00

My wife an I recently returned from an extended stay in southern California visiting family and friends. Our visit was only marred by news from home as we learned of the abduction of an Israeli soldier and the murder of two more by Palestinian terrorists at the end of June, followed by Israeli reprisals and the continuing firing of rockets from Gaza. Hamas officials justified the abduction and called upon Israel to release Palestinian prisoners in an exchange for Cpl. Gilad Shalit, the kidnapped soldier. One might only consider the extent of the hostilities if Israel had not pulled out from Gaza a year ago; a terrorist Hamas led Palestinian government might have caused havoc among the Israeli civilian population of Gush Katif in order to draw Israel into an even greater military conflict than we presently face.

We celebrated the anniversary of our Aliyah on July 7th with a Shabbat dinner at the home of my wife's parents. The wonderful experience of our US visit underscored the appropriateness of our decision to make Aliyah a year ago. No matter how enjoyable and fulfilling our visit was we longed to be back in our Jerusalem home once again.

We returned on Thursday, July 13th—the 17th of Tammuz. Our arrival in Israel on the fast day marking the breach in the walls of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E. was a kind of portent. That day Hezbollah, the Iranian-Syrian backed terrorist army in Lebanon breached the border and kidnapped two more Israeli soldiers and killed eight. Israel’s swift response opened up a second front in our war against the terrorists. And the katyusha rockets began to rain down upon the cities of the north even reaching the port city of Haifa killing one person and injuring scores of others. At this writing several hundred rocket and katyusha strikes have been reported. Israel has bombed the Beirut airport for the second time and has destroyed a significant part of Hezbollah’s rocket stockpiles.

The abductions in the south and in the north have all the markings of a coordinated effort by forces hostile to Israel to incite a major confrontation. The evidence points to Damascus and Teheran as the funders and formulators of this strategy. Both Syria and Iran have much to gain by stirring things up between Israel and the Palestinians and Israel and the Lebanese. Neither Hezbollah nor the Palestinian terrorist groups could possibly attempt such bold confrontations with Israel without the explicit support and even initiation by the Iranian-Syrian axis. This rogue alliance clearly intends to divert world attention from Iran’s nuclear threat and from Syria’s mischief in the Iraq conflict.

If there is any doubt about Iranian and Syrian complicity and partnership, one only has to look at Ha’aretz which reported this morning that the Iranian president threatened Israel with a “fierce response” should Israel attack Syria. Iran itself is making the case for Iranian and Syrian collusion. The question remains, however, whether or not the leaders of the international community will connect the dots and place responsibility for this unfolding crisis at the doorstep of Iran and Syria. Were the Security Council to act forcefully against the real culprits Hezbollah and the Palestinian terrorists would not be able to function with impunity. This would benefit the Palestinian people as well as Lebanon and be in their national interests as well as Israel’s. However, expecting the Security Council to respond other than by condemning Israel for defending itself against obvious aggression, is so much wishful thinking I am afraid.

It should be remembered that part of the conditions set by the United Nations following Israel’s withdrawal from Lebanon called upon the Lebanese to disband Hezbollah’s separate army and integrate that force into the Lebanese army. The reality is that Lebanon was unwilling or, more likely, unable to disarm the Hezbollah forces and they remain as an “occupying force” in southern Lebanon violating the sovereignty of the Lebanese government.

And so, we are home now, and I can get the news almost as it happens from a variety of perspectives and that is far better than trying to understand what is going on from afar. We join with our fellow Israelis and pray for the welfare of our military personnel and for the safety of our citizens in the north and in Sderot and Ashkelon in the south.

I have received questions from families with children visiting here and who will be studying here in the fall as well as from friends who are planning trips here this summer asking us if it is safe to be here. Though I am neither a security expert nor a prophet, I can say that we feel safe here and that those who organize trips for individuals and groups take great care in insuring the safety of tourists. Except in the north, virtually all the sites frequented by tourists are secure and the tour buses continue taking visitors to the many historical and cultural locales that make Israel such an inspiring and unique tourist destination. At this time I would not advise anyone to cancel plans to visit Israel.

Our return to Jerusalem and our feelings now at this time of great concern, only confirms our convictions that our Aliyah was the right path for us. Life is good here—often more eventful than we would wish, but always significant and meaningful.

Shalom from Jerusalem

Israel’s Independent Spirit

2006-05-02T19:32:00.000+03:00

Tonight we celebrate Yom HaAtzma’ut, Israel’s Independence Day. Just last week we observed Yom HaShoah which commemorates those who perished during the Shoah (Holocaust). Last Tuesday at 10:00 AM an entire nation came to a standstill as Israelis and visitors alike stood at attention for the duration of the blast of sirens heard from Rosh Pina in the north down to Eilat in the south. Anyone who has been in Israel on Yom HaShoah knows how powerful those two minutes are. Cars stop in the middle of the street and their passengers get out to stand respectfully, joining shopkeepers and their customers, factory workers, civil servants, teachers and students, politicians, doctors and even beggars in the street—everyone stops to remember in silence those whose voices were silenced by the Nazis and their minions.

For the duration of Yom HaShoah, all entertainment stops as well. Movies are closed and the Israeli media broadcasts music and programs of commemoration and remembrance in honor of the victims. But, it was from the ashes of the Shoah that the State of Israel emerged—a true modern miracle just three years after the liberation of the death camps.

What other people has witnessed such utter despair and such mighty triumph in such short a span? Our people has truly come to know the meaning of miracle. Yet, even this miracle came, not just by Divine fiat, but through the blood and blisters of Jewish pioneers and visionaries who followed Herzl’s charge: “If you will it, it is not a dream.”

It all began with the earliest Jewish settlers of modern Zionism, the First Aliyah at the end of the 19th century who established the first Jewish settlements and revived Hebrew, our ancient and now modern tongue. Then came the visionaries and socialist laborers of the Second Aliyah who founded the first kibbutzim as a utopian experiment in social organization and reclamation of the land. And to defend that land they created the HaShomer defense organizations, whose mounted watchmen stood guard over the growing Yishuv—the Jewish population of Palestine.

Following World War I the stream of Jews returning to the homeland swelled. The returnees of the Third and Fourth Aliyot rounding out the first quarter of the 20th century brought their ideals and their skills. Mostly from Russia and Poland, the young socialists were joined by middle class shopkeepers who formed the backbone of the Yishuv’s city-dwelling middle class.

The Fifth Aliyah between 1929 and 1939 witnessed the growth and development of the Yishuv as Jews from Germany and Austria joined those who had come from the Ottoman Empire and Eastern Europe adding their rich resources of culture and enlightened education to the Jewish community of Palestine. It was the Fifth Aliyah that added a new dimension to the Return to Zion as the Youth Aliyah movement took root and flourished. This growth and development continued despite Arab resistance and the infamous British White Paper that restricted Jewish immigration to a mere trickle, tragically trapping countless thousands of Jews in Hitler’s vise who might otherwise found refuge in a Jewish homeland.

Because of the strictures of the White Paper, Aliyah “Bet”—the “illegal” Aliyah under the watchful gaze of the British authorities brought Jews to Palestine’s shores in defiance of the mandate authorities. Between 1934 and 1948, some 115,000 Jews were brought to Palestine through the various channels of Aliyah Bet.

Then there were those who tried but failed to reach Zion, refugees and survivors of the Nazi concentration camps whom the British captured as they attempted to pursue their own avenue of hope and, instead of finding freedom, were interred by the British in yet another barbed-wire shrouded camp on Cyprus.

Upon the declaration of independence in a little pink house in Tel Aviv on a hot and dusty Friday, the gates of immigration were flung wide open. Jews from the prison of Europe as well as Jews from North Africa, Yemen, Syria, Iraq, and from the four corners of the globe came home by the thousands. In its first year, Israel absorbed some 203,000 immigrants. All in all, 684,201 immigrants—more than the entire Jewish population when independence was declared—settled in Israel between May 14, 1948 and the end of 1951.

Yes, Israeli’s believe in miracles because Israel itself is a miracle. But it came at a heavy price. Thousands have died defending the dream against those who could not accept the idea of a Jewish return and homeland in Palestine. They were the fallen heroes who, since 1860 when the first records were kept, gave their lives so that Israel could thrive, a branch once withered now blossomed into a fruitful tree.

That is why today, the day before Yom HaAtzma’ut we observe Yom HaZikaron ve-haGevurah—Israel’s Day of Remembrance and Valor—in loving and grateful tribute to those who died so that Israel might live. Beginning with a siren’s blast last night at 8:00 PM, just as we marked Yom HaShoah a week ago, we stopped to memorialize. At 11:00 AM this morning a two-minute siren again brought all Israel to a stop as we stood in silent respect for the fallen. And, tonight at 8:00 PM another blast will sound as the somber mood of Yom HaZikaron is suddenly transformed into the jubilation of Yom HaAtzma’ut, our celebration of Israel’s independence and independent spirit.

Tonight there will be dancing in the streets, concerts, confetti and fireworks until the wee hours. Tomorrow, the traditional BBQ’s (the ubiquitous mangal, a hibatchi-like little grill) will be lit in parks, patios and throughout the countryside as an incense of smoke and grilling meats wafts over Israelis joyfully celebrating our modern miracle.

This is not our first Yom HaAtzma’ut in Israel, but for Wendy and me it is our first Yom HaAtzma’ut as Israelis and so the events and the commemorations of this past week have touched us as never before; because now, and from now on, we are part of the on-going miracle that is the up-building of Israel and the return of our people to Zion.

Hag Same’ach and shalom from Jerusalem.

The Rites and Wrongs of Spring

2006-04-20T08:05:00.000+03:00

Our Passover began wonderfully. Instead of hosting our five Passover guests in our home, we were invited to combine Seders with friends at their home. As this made Wendy’s pre-Passover preparations just that much easier, we readily agreed and looked forward to a Seder comprising some twenty-one people around the traditional table.

The Seder was a delight! But, unlike the Seders around the Bocarsky-Donnell family table, this rehearsal of the story of the Exodus from Egypt included discussion about every aspect of the story and its accompanying rituals. By the time we got to dinner it was already pressing eleven in the evening and by the time the formal reading of the Haggadah concluded it was already one-fifteen the next morning! Needless to say, we did not stay for the singing of the traditional songs that provide entertainment following the service.

Now, I cannot say that I would emulate this service, but I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed it and the meal that accompanied it. I particularly enjoyed two aspects of the evening. First, I was delighted by the inter-play of our host family. The parents and their three grown daughters (the eldest daughter is an architect living in Budapest, the second is a rabbi teaching Talmud in a New York Jewish day school, and the youngest is a newlywed with a newly minted university degree in history) probed and questioned each other, obviously delighting in impressing the others (especially their father) with a particular insight or modern twist to the ancient story of our people. The second aspect that I so enjoyed was saying the words with which Jews have ended the service for hundreds of years—this time as it is said in Jerusalem: “Next year in Jerusalem—the rebuilt!” It was quite an experience and I consider it a fitting first Passover Seder in our new community.

With Wendy’s sister Lori and her husband Roger visiting us for the week, we decided to spend the interim days of the festival in a very traditional Israeli manner—we traveled. Surprisingly, the is the busiest traveling season for Israelis who prefer to celebrate their Passover away from home, sometimes half-way around the world (for example, there is a now-famous Seder sponsored by the Habad organization held annually in Nepal). Our travel plans were far more modest as we chose to take some day tours around the country. On Monday we got up early in the morning, had a quick cup of coffee and then hit the road to my favorite archaeological site, the ancient city of Tzipori (Sephoris).

Tzipori is located in the Galilee near the city of Nazareth. Its place in Jewish history goes back to Alexander Janaeus, one of the Maccabean kings, who developed the city in the year 103 B.C.E. Tzipori is located on a hill over-looking the surrounding countryside and commanding important ancient trade routes from Babylonia and beyond down to Egypt. Tzipori developed as a very wealthy city, and grew in importance with the conquest of Israel by the Romans in 63 B.C.E.

Tzipori’s main significance in Jewish history goes back to the second century C.E. when it became the home of Rabbi Judah haNasi and the seat of the Sanhedrin (the legislative and judicial body of the Jewish people in the days of the rabbis). It was while he resided at Tzipori that Judah haNasi (the Prince) commissioned the Oral Law to be codified into what was to become the Mishnah, the basic stratum of the Talmud. It was at Tzipori that the rabbinic revolution firmly established itself and shaped the future of Judaism and the Jewish people. Interestingly, Jews were a minority in Tzipori in the days of Judah haNasi. Tzipori boasted an affluent and cosmopolitan population. There was a thriving theater bringing the best (and the worst) of Hellenistic culture to Tzipori’s citizens—Jews as well as gentiles. Grand public buildings with incredibly detailed mosaic floors crowned the commercial district with its paved roads chiseled and rutted by the wheels of the countless barrows and carts that brought goods to Tzipori from the farthest reaches of the Roman empire and beyond. It was in this affluent, multi-cultural and multi-religious city that the Sanhedrin deliberated and began the process of codification of the Halachah—Jewish Law.

Interestingly, just as I recounted the history and significance of Tzipori to our visitors, in Jerusalem the members of the 17th Knesset were being sworn into office. Separated by nearly two millennia, these two bodies—the Sanhedrin and the Knesset—symbolize the national vitality of the people of Israel. Those thoughts occupied me as we made our way back to Jerusalem from Tzipori and listened to the swearing-in ceremonies as they were broadcast to the nation.

It was through that broadcast that we were reminded of another Israeli reality—just as there were those who sought our destruction 2,000 years ago and deny us our patrimony in this land, so too are there enemies today who target us for their hate and homicidal fanaticism. As Shimon Peres addressed his colleagues as the senior-most member of the Knesset he spoke of Israel’s glorious past and his hopes for its futures. He also spoke of the challenges and harsh realities of Israel’s present as he referred to the terrorist bombing in Tel Aviv that occurred just hours before the parliamentary rites.

That was the first we heard of the bombing—the second in the exact same area within 3 months—which took the lives of nine people and wounded scores of innocent men, women and children. Blame (or as the perpetrators put it, credit) for the suicide bombing was taken by Islamic Jihad and Fatah. The latters’ involvement is significant because this was Fatah, not an offshoot such as the Al Aksa Martyrs’ Brigade that claimed it sponsored this act of terrorism. This was Fatah, the party of Palestinian Authority Chairman Mahmoud Abbas. And, while he personally condemned the action, Fatah’s involvement is clear indication that terrorism is sanctioned—if not officially—by the ruling Palestinian elite. And more, the new Hamas cabinet defended the bombing, saying that the Palestinians had a right to defend themselves against Israeli “atrocities.” Hamas spokesman Sami Abu Zuhri said that the terrorist attack underlined the Palestinian right to self-defense. This comes from the ruling party in the Palestinian Parliament! Hamas clearly has no immediate intentions of divorcing itself from its terrorist roots and remains a criminal organization.

Passover and its sacred rites teach us of the preciousness and precariousness of our freedom. The political and democratic rites of the Knesset speak to the importance of protecting and insuring those rights against the wrongs of those who seek to destroy more than to build and to take life more than to improve it.

Our visit to Tzipori reminded me how ancient and modern the message of Passover truly is.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

The Month of Spring in the Royal Garden

2006-04-09T09:59:00.000+03:00

According to biblical tradition, the Hebrew month of Nissan is called Hodesh haAviv, the month of Spring. This month which is distinguished as the season of our annual celebration of Passover, marks the beginning of spring with all its floral delights. We have enjoyed a relatively wet winter, staving off for a little while the usual threat of drought in this land where water is more valuable than oil. So we feel blessed as we prepare our homes for Passover, clearing out the leavened remnants of the past year, cleaning and scrubbing our dwellings and our souls to ready ourselves for the advent of the Festival of Freedom.

I am particularly taken by the richness of the Israeli urban landscape as Wendy and I take our dog Kipper for walks through our neighborhood. All around us we see evidence of spring’s motley blessings bestowed upon the most unusual and unlikely places. Alleyways offer bouquets of tiny flowers eaking their way through cracks in the pavement as if to belie the drab ordinariness of a city passageway, while empty lots burst into a riot of color seemingly overnight just to delight us when we take our morning constitutional. And when we do, Kipper gets to do his business royally!

You see, across the street from our building is an empty lot about three to four acres in size. According to local lore (and the assurances of our realtor) this property actually belongs to Her Royal Highness the Queen of England. Yes, Kipper’s favorite dumping ground is royal land. Now, how many of you can make a similar claim about your pet’s privy? Ahhh, the wonders and delights of living in Jerusalem.

During most of the year, the plot is a Royal Preserve for the refuse and cast-offs of the neighborhood. But, during Hodesh HaAviv, the empty lot is transformed into a lush garden of wildflowers, butterflies and bees. The waist-high mustard plants cover the old pipe, bits of rubber hose, plastic containers and occasional errant license plate that decorate the sorry space. The yellow mustard forms the backdrop for the colorful display of wildflowers like a canvas painted by a divine hand. Indeed, for the next few weeks (very few unfortunately) we are graced by a garden worthy of Her Royal Highness herself.

So, rather than attempting to describe this marvel, allow these pictures to speak for themselves.

Wendy and I wish all of you a happy, and colorful Passover.
Shalom from Jerusalem.

The Elections: Part Two "The Graying of Israel"

2006-03-31T15:36:00.000+03:00

Dateline: Jerusalem, March 31, 2006

Last night the final tallies of the election on March 28th came in. Kadimah—to no one’s surprise—led the pack of 31 contending parties with 29 mandates (i.e. 29 seats) in the upcoming 17th Knesset. Surprising was how poorly the Likud fared winning only 12 mandates making it the fourth leading party after Kadimah, Labor (with 20 mandates) and the ultra-orthodox Sephardic Shas party (with 12 mandates).

Because the final count gave the Likud 12 mandates and the right-wing Israel Beiteinu party of Avigdor Lieberman (supported mainly by immigrants from the FSU) 11 mandates, Bibi Netanyahu has narrowly retained his position as the leader of the right-wing bloc of parties in the Knesset. However (and this is a big however), as I write this Netanyahu’s leadership of the Likud—and, indeed his very political survival—is in contention as the second tier if Likud leadership represented by Silvan Shalom (the former Foreign Minister in Sharon’s government) are busy at work planning to unseat Netanyahu and revivify their party. But, Bibi has surprised us before, rising phoenix-like from the ashes of defeat, though many here in and out of Likud hope that he will go back to selling patio furniture in the U.S.

Now, the big and I mean really BIG election surprise was the astounding victory of the Gil or the “Pensioners’” party. Originally written off as just one more fringe party that would never reach the 2% voter threshold for Knesset representation, the party won an incredible 7 mandates in the new Knesset representing 5.9% of all the votes cast! This was achieved as a result of a sizeable (and unpredicted) vote of support from younger—even much younger—segments of the voting public. The Gil party has but one item on its agenda and that is the preservation and enhancement of the rights and benefits of retired people. It has neither foreign nor domestic agendas. Therefore, the Gil party was a logical (though unanticipated) address for disillusioned voters to send their vote of protest and still be counted as; “blank” voting slips are not legitimate. Today’s pundits attribute this protest vote against the other major parties as the key to Gil’s success in the polls. Nonetheless, the party headed by Rafi Eitan, a dear friend and supporter of Ariel Sharon, and represented by six other newly-elected Knesset members who formerly supported either Sharon or Labor, can surely be counted in the center-left bloc that is expected to emerge as the dominant force in the soon-to-be-formed government.

It is the formation of that new government that is the topic of conversation in the media, the cafes and backrooms of the parties who made it into the 17th Knesset. Interestingly, Ehud Olmert (expected to be the candidate designated as the head of the new government by Israeli President Moshe Katzav on Sunday) has been rather quiet. Instead the media machine has been percolating with reports of the other parties—notably Labor, and Shas—jockeying for position and portfolios in the new government. Labor leader Amir Peretz has been busy since results were in Tuesday night meeting with Eli Yishai of Shas and Rafi Eitan of Gil hoping to cobble together a bloc with a common social and economic agenda to win control of at least two of the important “social” ministries: the Finance, the Interior, the Education and the Health ministries. Peretz has said that he is interested neither in the Foreign Ministry nor the Defense Ministry as they are not vehicles through which he can further what is being called the “March Revolution” which clearly put the social agenda at the forefront of voters’ concerns.

In fact, it is fascinating to note that despite the rise of Hamas, the threats from Iran and the intrusion of Al Qaeda into the region, neither the bellicose breast-pounding of Likud nor the call-to-arms of the right-wing parties following the disengagement from Gaza and violence at Amonah could trump the social and economic concerns of the Israeli public. The Thatcheresque reforms to the economy under Netanyahu’s aegis may have made the Israeli economy healthier from a free-market perspective, but were too draconian in the cutting of the social-basket to win the support of the people. Israelis feel more threatened by attacks to their pocketbook than by attacks from Hamas—that, many believe, is the message sent by the electorate at the polls last Tuesday.

So, for now we wait and see. The card game of putting together the new government has just begun—we just hope that it does not result in a house of cards, unstable and easily toppled. Olmert would probably prefer a government coalition comprising Kadimah, Labor, Shas, Gil and, possibly, United Torah Judaism (an Ashkenazi ultra-orthodox party), with Israel Beiteinu added to the soup. This would give Olmert a commanding 85 mandates within his government. In addition, he could certainly count on Meretz to support any further disengagement, thus giving the new prime minister a whopping 91 mandates to back him as he furthers Kamiah’s agenda—and this is without relying for support upon the 9 mandates held by the United Arab Lists, Balad (an Arab party) and Hadash (communists).

If, as Bibi Netanyahu characterized it, this election was a referendum on the course set by Ariel Sharon, then the nation has spoken and Ariel Sharon, resting and unconscious in his Hadassah Hospital bed, has emerged as the real victor in the race to win the hearts and minds (and votes) of the people of Israel. To be sure, and without any doubt, a new era has begun.

Shalom from Jerusalem

The Elections: Part One

2006-03-31T15:13:00.000+03:00

Dateline: Jerusalem, March 28, 2006

Today is Election Day here in Israel. Thus concludes one of the more lackluster but no less significant elections in Israel’s brief history. Many important issues are at stake today, most importantly the immediate future of disengagement from the Palestinians and the direction of the Israeli socio-economic policies for the next few years. Though people outside of Israel here more about the former issue, the latter is no less important in a society wherein fully one-third of all children live under the official poverty level and pensioners find themselves facing higher costs with diminishing resources. Here at home, all the parties have had to address these issues vital to Israel’s existence and well-being but a few parties have arisen to focus attention most directly on particular concerns. Among the 31 (yes, I said 31) parties on the voting list, there is a pensioners’ party whose raison d’être is to lobby on behalf of pensioners’ rights—surprisingly, some pollsters predict that this party has a chance of meeting the 2% threshold of the electorate necessary to win a seat in the 120-seat Knesset. The Labor Party under its new leader, Amir Peretz, has positioned itself as the champion of the socially and economically downtrodden. And, of course, all the contending parties present themselves as the best choice to insure Israel’s security, especially as we face the threat of a Hamas-led Palestinian Authority.

You would think that these critical issues would drive the electorate to the polls en masse. In past elections Israeli’s have turned out to vote in astounding numbers, hovering around 80% of the eligible voters who exercised their mandate. These numbers dipped recently in the 2003 election when only 67.8% of the electorate cast a ballot. This number is still impressive when you consider that in the 2000 US presidential election only 49.3% of American voters went to the polls. Still, election-watchers predict that today’s turnout will be even smaller than the 2003 election. Many Israelis either believe that a Kadimah victory is a sure thing and they are apathetic or they are completely disillusioned by the state of the polity and the direction of their government and will sit home in protest. We will know more tonight when the polls close at 10:00 PM Israel time. By tomorrow morning we will know which parties benefited most from today’s vote.

What, me worry? Wendy emerges from the voting booth with ballot in hand ready to place it in the ballot box.

At least I know of two enthusiastic voters today. Wendy and I cast our votes this morning. It was an incredibly simple procedure, especially when compared to the American (i.e. California) system. Instead of receiving a voters’ booklet filled with candidates’ statements, propositions and measures, we were mailed a little card with the number and location of our polling station. All that we needed to know in advance was which party we planned to support with our vote. Here you mark your ballot for neither candidate nor issue, in fact, you do not mark a ballot at all.

According to the Israeli electoral system, each voter casts a vote for a party (not a specific candidate). You enter a room with a table at which sit the PAID election workers with representatives of each party somewhere about. Once you verify your qualifications to vote by presenting your identity card and being dutifully checked off the list by the elections official, you are handed an opaque blue envelope and instructed to enter the voting booth. Inside you find a multi-compartment box. In each compartment there is a small piece of paper—one for each of the 31 eligible parties plus a stack of blank ballots. On each ballot is printed the 1-3 lettered “logo” of the party plus it name in small print below. This is to insure that even the illiterate can exercise their right to vote just by memorizing a few letters (though this might give the advantage to those parties whose logo is but a single letter!). Finding your party’s scrip in the box, you then place it in the envelope (only one per envelope, any more and your vote is disqualified), and seal it (I hope I don’t develop “voter’s flu”). After emerging from the voting booth you put your ballot into the blue cardboard box that serves as the receptacle of this sacred census, much as the box that collected the half-shekel that tallied the strength of our biblical forebears. And that’s it, you’ve voted!

The whole process takes less than a minute, therefore there are no long lines or interminable wait as that damnable idiot before you reads every candidate’s name and the synopsis of each ballot measure because s-he did not read their voters’ booklet in advance of entering the voting booth. So, which system is superior? That answer is beyond the purview of this brief account of our initiation to being Israeli voters. I’ll leave that up to you to decide. But, of this I am sure, today we participated in an exercise of pure democracy as experienced in precious few nations today, most particularly in this part of the world. Part two will follow tomorrow as I report on the results of today’s voting.

Until then, shalom from Jerusalem.

Kaddish for a Bar

2006-03-31T15:05:00.000+03:00

I saw it while I was walking downtown yesterday. I didn’t quite believe it, but I knew that it was inevitable and wasn’t surprised. The venerable Fink’s Bar near the corner of HaHistadrut and King George streets was gone. In its place is a branch of the new and glitzy chain of fast-food eateries that are booming up all over town. A strange sadness overcame me as I gazed in silence at the former watering hole once prized by journalists and diplomats as the finest bar in the Middle East and one of the finest in the world.

Now, why would I mourn the loss of a bar? I am by no means a barfly. I drink only occasionally and then, rarely more than one martini (Grey Goose, extra dry straight up with a twist) or a single malt scotch (old and smooth). But, Fink’s is, or was, no ordinary bar; Fink’s was an institution, part of the colorful history of Israel and the Middle East. It was the tangible connection to history that I miss more than the excellent martinis (more than a rarity in Jerusalem) and the mediocre Middle European food that marked Fink’s.

Fink’s was opened in 1932 by Moshe Fink, a courtly European innkeeper of the old school. Since 1945 the bar-restaurant was managed by the Rothschilds, first Dave and then his son-in-law Mouli. It was under Mouli’s reign at the bar that I came to know Fink’s. It was a tiny place—just six small tables and a few stools at the bar. The decor was old and tacky, looking the same in 2005 as it did 40 years earlier. Framed bar jokes and cartoons displayed humor as old and dusty as the surroundings. There was even one of those glass birds that bobbed up-and-down over a glass of colored liquid—as if praying paeans to the powers of booze. The bar was well stocked, to be sure, but to the untrained eye did not seem any more so than any other neighborhood bar. But, to the cognoscenti, Fink’s was known as a Mecca of mixology. There was hardly a mixed drink that could not be conjured to perfection by the barman. And, if you even mentioned a brand—no matter how esoteric—you would not be surprised to see it on the shelf behind the bar the next time you came by. Solomon, the young barkeep who was the last of a long and distinguished line of those who practiced at the bar, was so knowledgeable about whiskeys that he was a published author on the subject.

Fink’s fame was such that it was heralded by Newsweek Magazine as “one of the best bars in the world,” and it was also featured as one of the best by Time Magazine and Reader’s Digest.
The great and the near great sipped and supped at Fink’s over the years. Its long list of celebrity clientele included Marc Chagall, Leonard Bernstein, Isaac Stern, Paul Newman, Kirk Douglas, and more. But, it was as a watering hole for journalists, politicians and diplomats that Fink’s held real distinction. It is said that a diplomat, politician or public figure who has not been to Fink’s is simply not worth knowing. Legend has it that at the conclusion of the first Gulf War, the crew of CNN called in a reservation to Fink’s from Baghdad. Another story holds that Henry Kissinger was refused service at Fink’s because he demanded that the bar be closed for his exclusive use.

But, putting aside all the glitz and glamour of its customers (though by no means its ambience), for me the real significance of Fink’s is its role in history. It is, no was, a real historic landmark.
In its early years during the British mandate of Palestine Fink’s was an oasis of cordial interaction for the city’s British, Jewish and Arab elite. With the mixing together in the confines and conviviality of the bar of the three sides of the evolving conflict, who knows what secrets were passed or diplomatic initiatives floated under the watchful eye of the Jewish underground spying through the peephole above the door to the kitchen? And, because of its deceptive neutrality, Fink’s was the perfect place to locate a slick hiding the arms of the Haganah from the prying eyes of the British soldiers having a gin and tonic just ten feet away.

After Independence, Fink’s lost none of its cache as a gathering place for the movers-and-shakers who shaped the modern history of the Middle East and, especially of the young State of Israel. The likes of Moshe Dayan, Golda Meir, Itzhak Rabin, Abba Eban and Shimon Peres entertained visiting diplomats and dignitaries under the gaze of the tight-lipped bartender—always a paragon of discretion befitting one who was entrusted with the world secrets and delicate negotiations being discussed in his presence. Treaties and policies were crafted over drinks at Fink’s.

Over the years, Fink’s loyal following began to dwindle as the city and its tastes changed. There were fewer and fewer tourists who sought out Fink’s for its food, though it remained one of the few restaurants in Jerusalem where you could order Goulash soup, chopped liver and melon, homemade herring in Sherry, Tafelspitz and real wiener schnitzel—all authentic but hardly haute cuisine. And, with the advent of the numerous 5-star hotels and their bars, who needed to trudge over to Fink’s for a cocktail no matter how skillfully concocted.

About a year and a half ago (around October of 2004), Fink’s underwent a revolution—it went kosher. Succumbing to the realities of an ever-growing orthodox population in the city, Fink’s retooled its menu and completely converted its kitchen to attract more customers. But, alas, even this attempt at rescuing this temple of tippling was to no avail. The week that we arrived in Jerusalem in July Fink’s closed its doors for the last time. An institution, no, an historical landmark in this land of history passed from history. For months, the chained and bolted entry to the bar stood in silent mourning for its demise. I could deal with that, though sealed and empty, it still stood as witness to all that transpired within its shabby walls.

Then, as I got off the bus yesterday I saw that all remnants of Fink’s had disappeared. Neither plaque nor marker noted what once stood there. Instead a polished and new display case of pastries and light lunches occupied the spot where Solomon and his predecessors ruled the bar and windows brought the light and the street noise into what was once the intimate smoky shadows where history was made not just talked about.

It never ceases to amaze me how this country, seemingly obsessed with history and the redemption of the past, where archaeology is a national pastime, can so cavalierly erase remnants of its recent national legacy. And not just Fink’s is gone; it has joined the likes of the Café Atarah on Ben Yehudah Street where the Palmach (the striking arm of the pre-state Haganah army) met on the mezzanine—now a Burger King, and the Alaska ice cream parlor on Jaffa Road where the leaders of the Irgun conspired and planned their resistance to the British overlords—transformed into a pharmacy. Each of them is gone now and soon so will those who remembered them.

But, time and progress wait for no one and for no place, no matter how good the martinis were.
From now on, as I alight from the number 8 bus on King George, I know that I will look up and cast my gaze on the corner of HaHistadrut Street. And, I assure you, I will not see the glass and chrome eatery of the present, but—at least in my mind’s eye—I shall see the old brown exterior of Fink’s with its heavy metal and glass door providing entry to the warmth, culture and aromas of a time now passed. May its memory be for a blessing.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

Polls Push Pols

2006-03-03T15:16:00.000+02:00

Something wonderful arrived in the mail yesterday. Much anticipated, it arrived without fanfare or formality. It was a small card; most unassuming and easy to mistake for a postal notice regarding a missed package delivery. Yet, this little card delivered a powerful message indeed. It was the notice of my registration in the voting rolls and the location of my polling place for the upcoming national elections to be held on March 28th.

It is now official! I am truly an Israeli, qualified to exercise my franchise to vote as a full-fledged citizen of the State of Israel. Now, into the fray of the Byzantine world that is Israeli politics.

I have been following Israeli politics for more than thirty years, but now, as a voter, I cast a different eye upon those parties and candidates that seek to woo the vote that I shall cast in about four weeks time. To be honest, by the standards of the last several elections this has been (at least to date) a rather lackluster election season. Absent are the fire and passion displayed in previous parliamentary contests. Walking the streets you would hardly know that there was an election going on—no one in faction colors standing on the corner passing out propaganda, no poster-hangers competing with one another to make sure their party’s posters are displayed most prominently, no mass rallies. Beginning next Tuesday we are promised a barrage of TV spots and advertisements, but that is about all.

Pundits posit all sorts of reasons for this—from the somber electoral mood following Prime Minister Sharon’s debilitating stroke, to the fact the his Kadima party seems so unassailable in the polls that the best the opposing parties can do is jockey for position in any upcoming coalition. Add to this the fact that there are no singular, standout candidates; just politicians worrying about their political future should their party do poorly at the polls. So we have Bibi Netanyahu and Amir Peretz fighting for their political lives and the National Religious Party and the secular right-wing National Union parties sharing a political bed hoping (against hope) that together they can garner the votes that neither party can hope to accrue on its own. That’s about as exciting as it has gotten. Each party—right, left and center—promising that its platform and its leadership can best counter the victory of Hamas in the recent Palestinian elections.

In keeping with the Kafka-esque political reality of the Middle East, March 28th also marks the deadline for Hamas to form the new Palestinian government. With no clear indication that Hamas will succeed in forming a unity government with the remnants of Fatah, the various Israeli parties are positioning themselves to confront a hostile, intransigent and Iranian-dependent radical regime ruling the Palestinian Authority. Despite the best attempts of the present government and our American allies, it is not likely that Israel will be successful in maintaining a united international front to isolate an unreconstructed Hamas-led government. This poses enormous challenges for all the parties which must convince the electorate that their party will best be able to confront Hamas while capitalizing on the international good-will and political capital won by the Sharon government. Not knowing in advance what the new Palestinian Authority will look like makes for very cautious politicking by the Israeli parties. The only parties that are clear and unambiguous in defining their position towards dealing with the Palestinians are the right-wing parties who reject outright any possibility of a Palestinian state and argue against any territorial compromise.

It is for this reason that this is an important election, perhaps one of the most important elections in Israel’s history. Despite the electioneering which so far has inspired more ennui than enthusiasm the composition and comportment of the next Knesset and the ruling coalition that will emerge as a result of these elections will determine Israel’s security and destiny at a critical moment.

Kadima is touted to be the clear winner in the race with an estimated 36-39 mandates (as of the most recent polls this week). This is a decline from the 44-46 mandates that were expected when the party was formed, but still a comfortable margin over any second-place party, whether that be Labor or Likud. Both of those parties presently are estimated to receive no more than 17 mandates. With 61 mandates required to govern, it is clear that Kadima will have to put together a coalition government incorporating one or more of the smaller parties. The question is, which ones?

There is nothing that would better serve the interests of Kadima and its leader, Ehud Olmert, than to take BOTH Labor and Likud and hang them out to dry outside of the coalition. Weakened so severely, the parties sitting in opposition would undergo a significant internal shake-up effectively neutralizing their efficacy as a counter-force to a Kadima-led government.

Of course, this means that Kadima will have to cobble together a coalition from the remaining parties. Likely candidates are Shas (the ultra-orthodox Sephardic party) with a projected 9-10 mandates and United Torah Judaism (also ultra-orthodox) pegged to win 5-6 mandates. Adding the Russian-based Israel Beiteinu’s 8 mandates would give a Kadima-led coalition as many as 63 votes out of 120 in the Knesset. Not a comfortable margin by any means, but enough to govern.

In exchange for their support both Shas and UTJ will demand control of the government’s religious and social policies and the ministries that implement them. This will effectively turn the complicated issues regarding religion and state over to the ultra-orthodox interests. There will be absolutely no reason for a Kadima-led coalition to address the important religious issues that divide our society today. There will be little if any hope for non-orthodox streams to make any gains in the struggle to achieve their rights.

Moreover, this will be a definitively right-of-center coalition. Foreign policy will be controlled by those who are reluctant to make the concessions and compromises necessary if there is to be any hope of peace now or in the future with the Palestinians. The only chance for a peace agenda to be advanced will be if one or more of the left-of-center parties are brought into the coalition. For this to happen, Labor must position itself to be a viable coalition partner. That means that Labor will have to conduct a campaign based more on promoting its agenda and less on attacking Olmert and Kadima. In addition, Meretz—the center-left party (with its predicted 4-5 mandates), needs to increase its clout by at least 2 mandates if it is to become an attractive alternative to Shas and/or UTJ in a coalition.

Kadima is a diverse party with representatives on both the left and right of the centrist spectrum. It has enough of a rightward inclination to balance forces pushing from coalition partners on the left. Thus with a coalition including Kadima, Labor and Meretz (and, perhaps Israel Beiteinu to give more balance from the right) the momentum for disengagement will continue in a cautious and measured manner. Also, such as coalition will be prepared—should the unlikely possibility arise—to respond to significant overtures from the Palestinians to resume negotiations towards a permanent solution.

And finally—though by no means less significantly—such a coalition would be the best government to deal with Israel’s troubling social and economic problems. Today more than 1/3 of Israel’s children live below the poverty line. The gap between rich and poor (once the smallest in the developed world) is enormous and the economic policies cast by Netanyahu when he was Finance Minister have exacerbated these problems. There needs to be a coalition with a strong, effective social and economic agenda. I believe that the coalition of Kadima-Labor-Meretz-Israel Beiteinu can achieve this.

For now, Kadima is far ahead and a Kadima-Labor-Meretz-Israel Beiteinu coalition is most unlikely but, with four weeks left to go in the campaign, things could change. That is part of the excitement of Israeli politics—the polls can change daily and the only percentages that really count are those that emerge on March 28th.

My little white card is pinned on the bulletin board before me now. It doesn’t look like much; it is quite unassuming but, what incredible power it possesses.

Shalom from Jerusalem

“Planting Seedlings of Hope”

2006-02-14T22:48:00.000+02:00

Yesterday I spent the most interesting Tu Bishvat I have ever experienced, first, a word about the holiday.

Tu Bishvat is the Jewish New Year of the trees—sometimes described as the Jewish Arbor Day. Tu Bishvat is actually a date, the Hebrew letters equaling 15 spell out the sound “Tu,” hence the name of the holiday, Tu Bishvat literally means the 15th day of the month of Shvat. The Talmud notes that this date comes after the heavy rains of Israel have past and the ground is saturated and ready for planting saplings. And, that is exactly what Israelis do with a vengeance (or, more aptly a reverence) they plant trees.

Ever since I was a child in religious school I remember collecting dimes and filling the slots in the card bearing the logo of the Jewish National Fund promising me that a tree—my very own tree—would be planted in the sacred soil of Israel for each dime-filled card that I completed. To this day Jews buy trees in Israel to celebrate births, b’nei mitzvah, weddings and simchas (joyous occasions) of all kinds. So, too, do I remember, how comforted I was when my rabbinic classmates contributed to the planting of a grove of trees as a living memorial to my parents and brother after their tragic deaths 26 years ago. Trees are a symbol of life and a potent symbol in Jewish life.

The Torah itself is likened to a tree in Jewish liturgy, quoting from the book of Proverbs, “It is a tree of life to those who hold fast to it and all it supporters are happy.” And so we sing each time we return the Torah to the Ark after reading and learning from it. We so revere trees that our sacred Torah itself is likened to a tree above all other of God’s creations.

Coming to the land of Israel, the halutzim—the early pioneers—set about a zealous program of forestation, making each new sapling planted a statement of the Zionist dream. With time, forests reappeared where capricious nature and human neglect and exploitation had denuded parts of the Land of Israel that had not been verdant since ancient times. Near the northwestern Galilee kibbutz where I lived in my student days, there was a mountain that was called Har Karei’ah (Bald Mountain) in the early days of Jewish settlement, by the time I lived there it was called Har Porei’ah (Blooming Mountain) because of all the trees than crowned it. Planting trees is an Israeli obsession and Tu Bishvat is its holy day.

Given the near sanctity of trees, it would seem unthinkable that anyone would wantonly damage or destroy one. Even in the heat of battle the Torah forbids us from cutting down fruit-bearing trees: “When you are engaged in war against a city and lay siege against it for a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees, wielding an ax against them. You may eat of them, but you must not cut them down. Are trees of the forest human that they can flee from you into the besieged city?” (Deuteronomy 20:19) Even the trees of your enemy may not be cut down, that much is clear.

And this brings me to my Tu Bishvat experience this year. Tragically, there are those in this land who do not seem to practice what our tradition preaches. Over the past few years there have been a number of incidents, especially in the areas of Judah and Samaria in the West Bank where trees—especially olive trees—belonging to Arab villagers have been vandalized and even destroyed. This past year alone over 2,000 trees have been victimized. Please understand I am not referring to trees destroyed in military actions or trees uprooted by the security forces because they have provided cover for terrorist activities. I am talking about trees that have been axed, chopped, burned and brutalized anonymously under the cover of night in a clear attempt to threaten and intimidate the Arab owners of those trees.

It is interesting about olive trees, providing food, fuel and wood, they require years of careful nurturing to give their best. Many trees in Israel are hundreds of years old, carefully tended by the same family for generations. An olive tree is more than a commodity to these farmers and cannot be replaced in an instant. Those who attacked those trees so cravenly knew exactly what they were doing and the message that they were sending.

At long last, because the number and severity of the incidents has become so egregious, the Israeli authorities have begun a serious and thorough investigation. Though it is premature to draw any conclusions, the evidence appears to point to Jewish settlers who have not been reticent about expressing their antipathy towards the Arab villagers in whose midst they live. The reality is that relations between Jews and Arabs living in the West Bank, in Judah and Samria, are tense. This by no means implicates all those Jews who live in Judah and Samaria many of whom have relatively peaceful relations with their Arab neighbors (despite what the international media might imply), but clearly there are a violent few who will not stop short of causing such damage. By the same token, not every Arab living in these areas is a potential terrorist or even supports the use of violence in advancing Palestinian national objectives, though there are assuredly violent elements who would not hesitate to bring devastation upon Jews were the opportunity to present itself. But here, we are talking about trees, apolitical, non-ethnic olive trees.

In response to the problem of tree destruction, the New Israel Fund, along with Rabbis for Human Rights and the Israel Center for Pluralism sponsored a tree planting on Tu Bishvat to replant some of the olive trees damaged and destroyed in this violence. Living in Jerusalem we hear much about the situation in Judah and Samaria from the settlers' perspective. I was curious to see first-hand the other side of the story. So, hearing about this project from my friend, I joined him and some 300 other Jews and an admixture of non-Jews and boarded buses for Salem an Arab village not far the city of Nablus. Our journey took us through the West Bank of Judah and Samaria, past Amonah (where the violent dislocations of Jews from the illegal settlement took place recently) up past Tapu’ah (a settlement known for its radical right-wing element) and on up towards Elon Moreh (one of the larger Jewish settlements) until we came to Salem.

The drive up was magnificent! The countryside is breathtaking in its stark beauty, especially at this time of the year. In much of America winter is the “quiet time” for nature, but not here. In Israel nature bursts out in greenery and growth in the blessing of winter’s rains. And now, in February, the wild flowers in their motley array begin to appear in their annual ballet of anemones, cyclamen, and white broom dancing amongst the rocks and crags.

Looking at the fecund red soil that gives birth to such richness, I also observed how much people have to love, really love this land to work it. Every inch of ground seems covered by rocks—everywhere you look, rocks! Large rocks and small rocks, from boulders to pebbles, the ground is covered with rocks as if to challenge any would-be farmer foolish enough to dare to cultivate it. But they have—from generation to generation for millennia people have plowed and sowed these fields to win from this earth whatever bounty it was willing to give up. You have to love this land to live here, and they do, the Jews who heroically have come home to reclaim and restore this land and the villagers of Salem and the people who live in the hundreds of other Arab villages and towns that dot the rural landscape we traversed in our Tu Bishvat pilgrimage. They love it, with all their hearts and might they love it.

We came to plant olive trees; to make amends for what was destroyed and to plant for the future. We wanted to plant seedlings of hope and goodwill for the farmers of Salem and those of Elon Moreh, too. We were not there to solve the political conundrum about who ultimately had rights to the land. We came to show the people of Salem that not all Jews cut down trees; Jews could help them plant trees. So too did the farmers of Salem show us by their hospitality and friendliness that not all Arabs hate Jews or want to kill us.

To be honest, our Tu Bishvat planting was a planned media event, carried out in front of cameras and with lots of speeches (more time spent listening to speeches than planting trees, in fact). But what happened yesterday up in Salem is not likely to make it on CNN and certainly not on the BBC. Even in the Jerusalem Post a picture appeared with a brief caption but without an accompanying story. That’s why I wanted to share my Tu Bishvat experience with you so that you could hear about people planting instead of uprooting the chances for peace. It’s a story worth being heard and worth repeating. Happy Tu Bishvat.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

“Pogo Was Right”

2006-02-05T09:31:00.000+02:00

The scenes on the television news and in the newspapers the next day were graphic and disturbing. Mounted police wielding clubs confronted stone-throwing teens in a heated and bloody melee. Yet this was not the picture with which we have become all too familiar during these days if Intifada violence in which Israeli security personnel array themselves against Palestinian youths violently protesting Israeli occupation or the routing of the security fence. No, to our deep, soul-freezing disquietude, these were scenes of Israeli Jewish teenagers cursing and defying the Israeli authorities who came to the illegal outpost of Amonah in the West Bank to dismantle nine buildings in accordance with government orders.

Yes, Pogo was right, “We have met the enemy and he is us.” But, who, exactly is the enemy here? Is it the stone-throwing teenager spewing defiance at the very symbols of Israeli democracy and the rule of law? Or is it the baton-wielding policeman who, reacting to the rocks, paint, eggs and curses being hurled by the out-of-control youth, slashes headlong into the crowd in apparent overzealous use of force? No matter the answer, Pogo was right the enemy is us. No one can blame any outside foe for the tragedy that was the Amonah evacuation this past Wednesday.

The events of this past week—in such sharp contrast to the generally peaceful evacuation of Gush Katif and the Gaza settlements this past summer—adumbrate the harsh truth that Israelis face the real possibility of violent civil strife as we take the inevitable next steps toward removing Jewish settlers from the West Bank whether through negotiation with a Palestinian governmental authority or by unilateral action in absence of a negotiating partner. This will be the gravest test Israel will have ever faced in its history; greater than any threat posed by its Arab enemies.

But, who were those youths at the Amonah barricades? They were kids—young teens of fifteen and sixteen years old; too young even to serve in the army. What, we might ask, were they doing there in harm’s way?

At the time of the first Intifada, and when the last Intifada broke out, we saw young teens throwing rocks at Israeli soldiers, who responded with force—sometimes deadly force—and we asked, “Where are their parents? How could their parents allow their children to put themselves at such risk? Is any political cause worth sacrificing your young children?”

Today, we hear Jewish parents “admitting” that these Hilltop Youth as they are called, are out of control. Out of control? More so than those Palestinian youths? Can we condemn the actions of Palestinian youths while defending those of our own children? If we can demand to know where their parents were, and how their parents could allow children to put themselves in harm’s way, should we not ask ourselves the same hard questions? And more, where were the parents? Where were the rabbis of the settler movement? Why were they not there attempting to bring calm, trying to dissuade these children from attacking the police and the soldiers? How could they stay at home while their children were in such danger?

The young teens, brutal and brutalized at Amonah, are among those whose anger at the government and resentment over what they perceive as an abandonment of the Land of Israel by the Israeli authorities has turned them against the very symbol of that authority—the army. Those Hilltop Youth who riot and defy the authorities in these increasingly violent confrontations risk losing the right to serve in TzaHaL, the Israel Defense Forces.

In Israel, the army holds a mythic, almost sacred place in the culture of the nation. It’s very name TzaHaL—Tzva Haganat L’Israel (literally, the Army of Defense of Israel), bespeaks a history held in reverence by Israelis of soldiers—men and women—who have given their lives helping to create, sustain and protect this little country of ours. The army has been the meeting place where life-long friendships are begun, marriages made, and careers determined. Young people agonize about which unit or branch of service they will get in to the same way that American teens stress over which college or university will accept them. There is simply no institution in Israeli life that is held in such high regard as the army.

For most Israelis the attitude of the Hilltop Youth is unthinkable; not serving in the army is beyond imagining. And yet, when confronted by this very real possibility, many of the Hilltop Youth defiantly respond that they do not intend to serve in an army that represents a country that they do not support. Crazy words? Maybe, but, remember, these are fourteen and fifteen year olds. How many young teens make equally outlandish statements without understanding their consequences? All the more reason to ask again, “Where are their parents? Where are their rabbis?” These youngsters have been indoctrinated—intentionally, though I would not say cynically—to sincerely believe that they are defending Torah and the Land of Israel and fulfilling God’s will for the Jewish people. It is therefore incumbent upon those who have inculcated those values to protect these children and not allow them to be used as pawns. They should not be allowed to take actions the consequences of which they are too young to fully appreciate.

And we must remember that they are our children. We, along with their parents, bear responsibility for them. So too do we bear responsibility for the actions of the police and military personnel who carried out the government’s orders to evacuate Amonah and may have done so with excessive force. Was there another way to accomplish the evacuation? That is for a commission of inquiry to determine and I imagine—I hope—there will be one.

So, where does this leave us? Though the majority of Israelis favor the government’s position in evacuating these illegal settlements, is it worth the political and social risks? Consider this: There are those who argue that the forced evacuation of these illegal settlements will only encourage Israel’s enemies and that it shows signs of weakness. Might not the opposite be the case? Israel is a country where the rule of law can effectively be enforced—even against its own people. Can the same be said of the Palestinian Authority? I dare say that there are those in the Palestinian government—most assuredly in Fatah, but also in Hamas—who are most likely very envious of the Israeli government right now. The Israeli government has demonstrated authority and the ability to enforce that authority in evacuating Gaza and, most recently, Amonah.

There will be many more—and more difficult—evacuations in the future. How they are carried out and how they will be challenged may well determine the future of the country, not just the shape of Israel on a map, but also the social shape and integrity of our national unity. We cannot afford to have Pogo prove correct in every encounter and certainly not in the long run.

Shalom from Jerusalem

“This Time Dewey Won”

2006-01-29T09:18:00.000+02:00

On Thursday morning the headline in the Jerusalem Post proclaimed that the ruling Fatah party had narrowly retained power in the previous day’s elections for the Palestinian Legislative Council. That news was confirmed in the early morning broadcasts of the Voice of Israel on the radio. But, by the eight o’clock morning news the word was out, Fatah was heading for an embarassing defeat and Hamas—the dreaded terrorist organization—was by all indications going to emerge as the majority party in the PLC. By Friday morning the banner headlines were screaming the news “Hamas Wins in Landslide Victory!” In dour prognostication, the self-same Jerusalem Post, which the day before touted a Fatah win announced: “The Palestinian people voted for resistance.” And now the Monday morning quarterbacking begins…

Most everyone predicted a stunning rise in the fortunes of Hamas as a result of these elections. Already the Israeli government had assembled a blue-ribbon commission to assess policy and to devise strategy for dealing with a Palestinian Authority with a prominent Hamas presence; but nobody, I mean nobody (including the Palestinians themselves) expected Hamas to emerge as the dominant party. The results at this time (with 95% of the vote tallied) give Hamas 76 seats in the new PLC, with 43 going to Fatah and 13 to the other parties. In other words, with Fatah refusing to join in coalition with Hamas the Palestinian Authority will now be governed by Hamas. The outsiders are now sitting in the seats of authority and Atafat’s “Old Guard” have been thrown out on their well-tailored behinds. For many, it appears, the inmates are now running the asylum.

This new reality presents enormous challenges for Israel, for the United States, for the EU and for Russia—all those countries who have invested their political and financial capital in the Road Map that has guided (more or less) and formed the mutually agreed upon basis for any and all peace efforts in the last few years. With the rise of the rejectionists of Hamas, all bets are off the table now as they do not acknowledge the road map, they don’t even acknowledge the road. How will much needed humanitarian aid reach the Palestinians without strengthening the hand of Hamas? What, if any, diplomatic communication can take place so long as Hamas continues to call for armed struggle and the destruction of Israel? If the Palestinian territories become a secure base for increased terrorist activities and, worse, a radical Hamas government invites such rogue entities as Hizbullah and Al Qaida to use its territory as a base of operations, how will Israel and the other nations respond? These are troubling, but real concerns.

If a Hamas administration presents challenges for Israel and the sponsors of the road map, it poses even greater challenges to the Palestinian people. How will they—a well-educated, generally secular public cope with a militantly Islamic government? What will happen to the significant number of Palestinian Christians under a Hamas regime? And what of Hamas itself? It has been able to function as an opposition group quite effectively. It has mastered the art of subversion and incitement, how will it adjust to the much more difficult task of establishing order and creative a stable government? Will it remain radically rejectionist or, out of realpolitik and the moderation that can come from the realities of being a ruling power, will Hamas—like Fatah before it—modify itself and its platform and come to recognize Israel and make the compromises necessary to achieve peace. Quite frankly even the leaders of Hamas were surprised (shocked) by their victory. The Post cited Hamas sources as saying that Hamas wanted to be in the opposition.

It’s possible Hamas may reach beyond its own ranks for an independent to serve as PA prime minister. This would enable Israel and the US, the EU, etc. to talk to the PA without speaking directly to Hamas (and vice versa). An independent candidate, Ziyad Abu Amar a possible candidate for foreign minister in a Hamas government was quoted in the Post saying, “Hamas will have to make the adjustment from an opposition and resistance movement to a political movement” which would force Hamas to become more pragmatic “at the expense of ideology,” he said.

Maybe, just maybe, Hamas with its reputation for being uncorrupt and putting the nation above self-interest, might be able to achieve what the oligarchs of Arafat’s Fatah were unable or unwilling to accomplish—the establishment of a democratic Palestinian State alongside Israel. It is far to early to tell. Then again, if the vote for Hamas was just a vote for jihad, then this would not be the first time that the Palestinians have squandered away international good will, peace and the prospects of a Palestinian state. It’s happened time and time again…

Remember 1948 when Dewey “defeated” Truman? The Palestinians rejected a state back then, too. Let’s hope that it will be different this time.

Shalom from Jerusalem.