Who Knows?

A few weeks ago, I attended a celebratory weekend. It was arranged by my niece for her son’s bar-mitzvah. She booked a hotel almost a year ago and a half ago for the event in the northern Israeli town of Poriya, overlooking Lake Kinneret. Except that unexpected events played havoc with the schedule. A massacre, for example, and unrelenting barrages of missiles in the country's north.

Many northern towns in Israel have been evacuated due to the constant danger, and have become ghost towns. Having no choice, the hotel cancelled the weekend reservation. I’m sure it was more painful for them than for us. In these circumstances, multiple businesses in the north are going bankrupt. It’s even worse than when businesses were shut down due the covid lockdowns; at least then, properties were not being blown up by projectiles fired from Lebanon.

With guests long invited for the planned bar mitzvah, but nowhere to put them, my niece went into overdrive seeking alternate arrangements. After much effort, she finally succeeded in booking a field school (bungalows in a school camp environment) in the Galilee. Her relief was palpable. Despite hostilities elsewhere, the event was warm and meaningful and, from a security perspective, calm.

The field school was staffed by Israeli citizens from the neighbouring village. All Arabs of course. The atmosphere was more than congenial. They were lovely locals hosting friendly guests in a hotel. In broken Hebrew and English we joked and laughed together, and even had some intimate conversations. They are experiencing the same attacks as we all are, and are horrified by recent events against Israel.

Most of the young men in my family, all fathers of small children, have been in and out of military duty. Some served in Gaza, others stationed further back in technology or logistics. (We have a large family).

On Saturday afternoon, I sat with one of them in the garden courtyard to catch up. Despite being on furlough from Gaza, his M16 remained slung over his shoulder, even while picking up his small kids to feed them or give them a cuddle. While this is a normal scene at the moment in Israel, everyone knows that it’s not ‘normal’.

I tentatively asked if he could give me some insight into what he had been going through.
“Ah, you want to talk tachlis” (ie: ‘get down to brass tacks’). He knew what I meant. “I was in Gaza for 3 months. It’s tough. It’s nasty.” He has 3 small kids, and his wife was pregnant while he was away serving the country. His absence was difficult for her as well. Luckily, he managed to get released in time for the birth. They have a beautiful family, and I looked at the kids playing on the grass nearby as we spoke.

“Look at my kids. I teach them about respect and love. That’s not what I see over there in Gaza. We keep finding tunnel openings in private houses. And you know what else? They’re often in kids’ bedrooms, as are grenades, missile parts, and kalach”. (He said this using the Israeli nickname for AK-47 Kalashnikov rifles). “There are photos on the wall of kids - as young as toddlers - wearing Hamas headbands and toting rifles. A whole generation has grown up with the Hamas ideology of killing Jews. I don’t know if there is such a thing as an innocent civilian. It’s bananas. People in civilian clothing pop out of tunnel openings that we don’t know are there and shoot at us. Then they run off into the crowd.”
https://www.ynetnews.com/article/rje4pvrpp
https://zoa.org/2023/11/10448926-children-as-young-as-10-took-part-in-hamass-oct-7-terror-attack-survivors-say/
https://www.msn.com/en-au/news/other/idf-in-gaza-weapons-found-in-childrens-bedroom-university/ar-AA1jPa2x

One of his kids came running over for a hug before returning to the football scrum with his cousins.

“I don’t want to be fighting. Who does? At least my employer is understanding. Some people are losing their jobs because their employers have to replace them just to keep their businesses afloat. We do what we have to do. What choice do we have?”

He told me more, but you get the idea. Knowing that kidnapped Israelis are being held in some of the tunnels, we all know that Israel has been careful not to destroy them willy nilly.

In the distance, another family member lay on the grass enjoying the sun. He is also a young father in his 30’s who had served a long stint in Gaza when his wife was expecting. During that time, she had shown me photos of him in uniform, taken by a member of his platoon. In them he had looked pensive. I wandered over to where he lay on his back, a hat covering his face.

“How are you doing buddy?” I asked.

“All good. I’m here with the family. My wife has just given birth to a gorgeous baby. Me and my older boy camped out in the hospital parking-lot on Friday night so we could spend Shabbat with my wife. It was fun.”

“You were lucky to have been discharged from Gaza before the birth,” I told him. From his reclining position he moved his hat off his face slightly to glance up at me, but he kept the smile on his face.

“Don’t think about it, Alan. Let’s just live.”

His response said it all.

After sunset, everyone opened their phones and checked the news. Over the weekend, air-raid sirens had sounded in Acco, where another of my nieces lives. She and her family were with us in the Galilee.
We packed our bags and returned home to our own, every-day lives. Lives that are challenged by the national situation in such different ways. Estimates are that most Israeli citizens already suffer from some level of PTSD.

https://www.haaretz.com/israel-news/2024-01-23/ty-article-magazine/.premium/senior-psychiatrist-working-with-october-7-victims-israel-needs-a-prescription-of-hope/0000018d-35d3-db8f-a7df-37f3de210000

https://www.ynetnews.com/health_science/article/hy8qocpu6

Life is getting Confusing

Day in, day out, life seems to get more confusing. When the future is uncertain, routine becomes increasingly important.

But now, even following routine feels like wading through mud. People crave change; a cathartic change from which we awake and discover a cool refreshing breeze has washed over the country, inviting us all to sit amongst the country’s stunning wildflowers with a picnic hamper and revel in the healing warmth of the sun.

Alas.

The October 7, 2023 invasion by Hamas was like a massive invasion of aggressive ants. We responded by jumping up and down on the main anthill, causing the critters to disperse in every direction. Now they, and their supporters, are biting us all over the place.

The issues we face are also multiplying as time passes, making life ever more confusing for Jews worldwide and for Israelis in particular. After all, our citizens were kidnapped in a surprise raid and we have been fighting to get them back. Simple.

But our initial solidarity has deteriorated to factionalism; a complicated military campaign is being waged in Gazan neighbourhoods; economic suffering is assailing selected members of society, not the least of whom are those carrying rifles and executing the grunt work of war, causing their families and jobs to be stretched to the limit; sanctioned draft dodging is continuing, although it has been poignantly thrust into the limelight in the current realities; a growing lack of trust in decision-makers, who may or may not be acting in pursuit of self-interest, causing enormous public protest and upheaval; Western anti semitic attacks purporting to be a legitimate backlash to Israeli defensive actions. To me this seems to have resulted from the intersection of worldwide social weakness, in the form of wokeness, and a generation that is both ignorant to history and open to manipulation by social media; dishonest global relations and abuse of international tribunals such as the ICC and ICJ, create the appearance that Israel is a criminal entity; and local politics in far-flung countries of the globe that poke their noses into business for which they have no jurisdiction or legitimate interest.

But, hey, what do I know? Nothing, of course, except that I get a headache when I look at something black and the world tells me it’s white. For so many of us, this constitutes our fog of war.

Believe what you see

I guess that was why, after much deliberation, I decided to join a tour of the southern communities bordering Gaza, where last year’s atrocities took place. Such tours may sound a bit macabre, but they have their place.

Much has been written about them. The one I joined gave a religious perspective and was (unashamedly) more agenda-driven than I would have liked, but I felt I could filter out the noise.

The biggest impact on me that day was our visit to Moshav Netiv HaAsarah.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Netiv_HaAsara_massacre

Despite being evacuated, a skeleton crew of residents has stayed behind to maintain the area’s infrastructure for when the residents return. Pets are even fed and gardens watered. One of those staying behind, a volunteer member of the Moshav’s first response security team, spoke with us. This is a type of ‘Neighbourhood Watch’ scheme on steroids. In real life, he works in computers. He described to us how things had played out on the day of the Hamas attack. Hearing the sounds of war in the street outside his home, he hid his children in the linen storage drawer under his bed. There were too many Hamas fighters for him to confront alone, so he found a strategic position near the entrance from which he could shoot intruders. And he did. In the meantime, his kids lay flat in the linen drawer, forbidden from using their phones or making sounds, for almost 10 hours. Only after many hours did the Israeli military arrive to tackle the situation.
https://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-67056987

A number of houses on the moshav were in ruins. I stepped into one of them, broken glass and sticks of furniture underfoot. 

At the back of the living room was the metal reinforced door to the security room. It had no handle, and a large shoe-print stained the door. 

Apparently, the terrorists, going house to house looking for people to rape and shoot dead, smashed their way in through the back door. The family, cowering in the security room, held the door tightly closed, preventing entry. Despite this, the terrorists kicked the door with all their might but couldn’t get it to open.

Frustrated, they exploded a grenade against the door, but all it did was blow off the handle.
(picture-wider door)

Thwarted in their efforts to reach their prey within, the terrorists moved on to the next house. Sometime later, sensing that their street was clear, the surviving family popped open the metal window cover and leapt out of the shelter. With incredible audacity, they jumped into their car and sped out of the moshav, managing to elude the gun battles still taking place within.

Standing in the living room, seeing the work of the Hamas terrorists and that large shoe print aggressively planted, brought me to the reality we all felt important to understand.
The family managed to drive all the way to Eilat, before hopping onto a flight abroad. I don’t blame them. Since seeing their home – to which they might one day return – I imagined them in a hotel somewhere in South America, dreaming of boogeymen bursting through their door. These traumas don’t ever leave you.

This was only one of the stories we heard that day.
Drones buzzed around overhead. In the distance, only 2 km away, the densely packed neighbourhoods of Gaza covered the horizon between us and the sea. Every so often, explosions from that direction could be heard and plumes of smoke reached the sky.

“Don’t worry, they’re good booms, very good,” called out our guide to soothe those on the tour.

“No they’re not” I said. “They may not mean danger to us at the moment, but no booms are good.” 

The guide looked at me askance.

Checking out social media a few days later I was not surprised to find an advertisement for a new, specially designed rod that fits to the standard security room door, making it easier to hold it closed against intruders. 

Ah yes, the times they are a-changing.

Returning home, roads were closed due to protests demanding the government agree to a ceasefire deal with Hamas in order to obtain the release of Israelis it had kidnapped. Was a deal even being offered by Hamas? Who’s to know? With so many shades of news, nuance and propaganda available today, who knows anything that we don’t see with our own eyes?

Bitter-Sweet Catharsis

Back in Jerusalem, I opened my new exhibit at the serene community gardens of Jerusalem’s Museum of Natural History, as an event participating in International Museum Day. Soon after I gave a public talk about ‘community’, based on my photographs, as part of the Jerusalem Day celebrations.

The beautiful gardens and the warm communal environment that they engender can’t brush away the heavy feeling that permeates our lives. Ubiquitous now are the dog tag necklaces and yellow ribbon broaches worn on clothing to keep the plight of those still held hostage in the public consciousness.

The View From Here

I had just landed in the US when it was announced that the IDF had, in a complicated operation, rescued four kidnapped Israelis held hostages in Nuseirat refugee camp in Gaza. Some had been held as slave workers in the home of an Aljazeera photojournalist.
https://nypost.com/2024/06/09/world-news/gaza-journalist-held-3-hostages-in-his-home-with-his-family-israeli-military-says/

A feeling of elation hit us all. But only 4 hostages were rescued, while another approximately 120 remain captive. The honest truth is that less than 70 of those may be still alive.
Is that true? Who knows?
Certainly, the people responsible for them don’t know, so how can anyone else?
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/06/14/world/middleeast/hamas-hostages-israel-cnn.html

The local synagogue hosted a luncheon in honour of the upcoming Shavuot festival. The members were very friendly and welcoming. Hearing I am from Israel, some spoke to me in hushed tones, sharing their sympathy with Israel’s current travails and wanting me to know that we are not alone.

In the main synagogue sanctuary, I saw what has become permanent décor in the front rows; signs marking the front row seats as reserved for the captive hostages, their names printed for all to see.

Photos of the kidnapped, in the format I have witnessed in multiple countries, are displayed outside shop windows in a Jewish area. Unlike the UK and Australians, these ones have not been torn down by Palestinian well-wishers.

Having said that, upcoming local elections reflect the diverse feelings in the community, with one candidate supporting Israel, the other purportedly claiming that most claims about October 7 were fabricated.

I was invited to attend a high school graduation ceremony at the Jewish Leffel school. For me, it was a cultural eye-opener, to say the least. I’m not used to such grand affairs for students finishing compulsory education. But it also allowed me a glimpse into the approach and emotional temperature of the community here. 

At the start of proceedings, a supplication to God was shared with the crowd, beseeching the almighty to save the the hostages.

Speeches were given and a Fleetwood Mac song was performed by the students. In one speech, s student referred to the famous quote by Golda Meir, that Israel’s secret weapon is that the Jews have nowhere else to go.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51meogYLjys

“I disagree with Golda”, declared the well-meaning student, who proclaimed that America and her school will always be her sanctuary. I’m not in her position, of course, and I understand why she made that statement. It made me sad nonetheless.

A friend set up a new film festival for students, and I attended the second evening in a cinema he had hired for the event in Harlem. It was a little nerve-wracking for me, an uninitiated foreigner, making my way there along the hot and humid streets, trying not to lock eyes with the people walking past me. One fellow, his baseball cap sitting askew on his head, his baggy jeans dangling and a guitar slung over his shoulder, danced along the street as a woman, wearing what can only be described as a light-blue, fishnet body stocking, walked in the other direction.

I felt safe when I reached the cinema and looked at the marquee. Under the sign advertising the festival were the words Free Palestine.

The organiser told me that the cinema owners had added those words and refused to remove them. He told the audience inside that this was an equal opportunity, nonpolitical event, and that he didn’t agree with any political signs on display. It didn’t help. On exiting later, the audience discovered a handwritten note on the door that the cinema owners did not apologise for anything and they stand by their words. A small but distasteful interaction.

The next day I spotted a car with registration plates that took me by surprise. ‘4HERSH’ they said.

I can only guess that this refers to the kidnapped young American-Israeli whose parents, residents of Jerusalem, have maintained a strong campaign to keep the release of the hostages on the public agenda.

Impressive.

Then I encountered a recent oleh to Israel who had returned to the States for a short family visit. Just before his return, he received his IDF papers. Not yet fully acclimatised to Israel, his head is in a spin about what to do. The IDF is suffering a shortage of soldiers and he is afraid of what this will mean for him. Will he be pushed into service when not ready?

https://www.timesofisrael.com/idf-confirms-1300-to-be-recruited-early-from-pre-army-programs/

https://www.timesofisrael.com/liveblog_entry/thousands-of-regular-service-soldiers-get-orders-for-4-more-months-amid-idf-manpower-shortage-report/

Complaints have been made that equipment supplied by the army is sometimes inadequate or subpar. This is very worrying.
https://www.timesofisrael.com/reserve-soldiers-complain-that-equipment-is-lacking-or-substandard/

Despite regular announcements of Israeli soldiers killed in battle, causing gut-wrenching pain for everyone in the country, all eyes are focused on the north, where a very real war is taking place with Hezbollah in all but name only. Buildings are being blown up. People are being killed. Forests are ablaze as exploding drones cause massive fires.
https://www.cnn.com/2024/06/04/middleeast/fire-northern-israel-lebanon-intl/index.html
https://www.reuters.com/world/middle-east/fires-set-off-by-hezbollah-rockets-spread-through-northern-israel-2024-06-03/
https://apnews.com/article/lebanon-israel-border-rockets-hezbollah-42f3fb7798f0b1d705f43f36debe7bb8

Over the last few days, the drums of war have been beating loud and clear.
https://www.cnn.com/2024/06/18/middleeast/hezbollah-drone-video-israel-haifa-intl-latam/index.html

With all these uncertainties, the young man shared his thoughts. “If war breaks out with Hezbollah before my return flight, I’m staying here. Period.”

Who knows what is really going on?

Who knows what is going to happen in the short and long term futures?

Who knows anything?

We hang in there because instinctively know that we are right, that between fight or flight we choose the former. In the words of Noah Tishby, 

"This is not our first rodeo." We are survivors.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C7UYqq3A6Ij/?igsh=aTJhdzkxY3o0MjFp

That’s currently the view from there, and from here.