Israel's courage under fire

EVA COHEN

The word "surreal" does not always hold the weight of its meaning, but that is exactly how I would describe my Israel experience this summer.

I arrived halfway through May for an Aish Hatorah activism trip and the country was enjoying the most peaceful period it had witnessed in several years. My hosts were continuously pointing out the differences between then and five years ago during the second intifada.

When that leg of my trip ended, I travelled for another two months, to places like Tiberias and Haifa. It was beautiful, serene and quiet up north. Then, a couple of weeks into June, a family of Gazans were killed at the beach by what was alleged to be an Israeli shell. After a full investigation following the incident, it was found that it was unlikely to have been an Israeli shell, but these findings were too late for the citizens of Sederot, who had been bombarded with Kassam rockets in retaliation for the "Israeli" murders. And then Israel Defence Forces soldier Gilad Shalit was kidnapped and everything changed. Well, the news said it did.

Jerusalem was the home base of my trip, even though I was travelling around quite frequently – and nothing there changed. Jerusalem is generally the hot spot for suicide bombers and violence, but it was there that I felt completely safe.

Hezbollah-propelled Kassam rockets were falling on the northern cities of Safed, Tiberias and Haifa, among many others. Citizens of Israel, a sovereign country, were forced into bomb shelters in the thousands by an illegitimate terrorist organization unrelated to the Hamas soldier kidnappings. How surreal was this? Unfortunately, Israelis are used to living under terror and their lives have to go on.

I worked at the Jerusalem Post for the summer and, in the office one day, I was asked to call a journalist in Haifa. He had arrived there with other reporters following the bombing campaign against Israeli civilians. On the phone, I could hear sirens in the background and the rubble under his feet of exploded infrastructure as he scampered toward the latest target. He described to me how the third floor of the building in front of him was completely blown off, just as I saw the image of that building appear on Sky News. I felt as though I could have been making the call from Canada while watching a local broadcast. Haifa is 150 kilometres away from Jerusalem but as far as what affected me, it could have been 10,000 kilometres away. I wasn't scared and I felt it was my duty somehow to stay in Israel and support my country – if only by being there. Many around me felt the same way.

In the last week of July, I travelled to Eilat and to a friend's kibbutz along the way and there were some minor differences from the last time I had been there. In Eilat, the hotels were full of civilians from the north who could afford to flee their bomb shelters. Children were brought in by the dozens but still many remained behind, at risk from falling Kassams. At my friend's kibbutz, they had taken in 100 people from the north to support for free until it would be safe for them to return to their homes; if their homes were still there. The whole country came together.

I left Israel at the beginning of August while the war was still on, with the hope that the violence would be settled quickly. Now, there is a ceasefire - but it only brings a momentary halt to the danger. Hezbollah is saying that they are going to keep their weapons but just not display them in public, which leaves us where things were when I arrived in May.

There will be what appears to be "peace" to the meddling international community while the enemies rebuild to attack again. I will return to Israel next summer no matter what the situation in the country is, because I am meant to be there. Violence does not deter me, because violence is the tool of the enemy and if it deters me, then they have won.

Eva Cohen is a freelance writer living in Ottawa.

^TOP