Hope offered by music

JENNY WRIGHT

When I sing the opening line to “Mah Avarech,” the song strikes a chord, bringing back a flood of memories. It’s a gut-wrenching song about young people dying in wars and it takes me back. Thirty-eight years, to be exact.

I was all set to make my way to England as a performer on Zim Cruise Lines in 1973 and then, suddenly, our Yom Kippur was taken out of our hands and we were at war. With all ports closed indefinitely, I searched around frantically trying to find something meaningful that I could do to contribute to my country.

After numerous phone calls to the Israel Defence Forces, I found myself headed to northern Israel to sing for the troops. In a matter of days, I became part of an entertainment group, Tsevet Havai Pikud Tsafon (Northern Command Ensemble). Sporting new khaki uniforms and carrying guitars, no one knew that, just hours ago, we were all civilians.

Music plays a large role in army life. Israel has army, navy and air force entertainment troupes. Entertainment becomes the performers’ military service and many eventually become celebrities.

During my service, we traveled in command cars and tanks to newly established borders with Syria, Lebanon and Sinai and performed for soldiers. Sometimes, the army bases were temporary makeshift tents and the ammunition boxes would double as seats. Other times, we were in bunkers.

It was always tough to perform lively, cheerful songs when all around there was shelling, injuries and death. Yet, for an hour or two, our small troupe was able to transport the soldiers to a very different world. Peals of laughter echoed through the hills, as my comedian friend, Zvika, strutted around impersonating people. I would sing and another person performed magic. We’d end with a Hebrew sing-along. The applause was enthusiastic and we often questioned how we had raised morale in the camp. Sometimes, this would be the last performance the soldiers would see.

The songs written between 1967 and 1973 were a large part of Israeli life. Lyrics and melodies inspired by eminent musicians like Chava Alberstein, Naomi Shemer, Shuli Natan and Yair Rosenblum, to name a few. Like all of us, they lived and breathed the wars, with all their struggles and sorrows, and their heartrending songs and lyrics about hope, comradeship and future peace reflect this. “Shir LeShalom” is one such example, written in 1969 and performed by the Nahal Entertainment Troupe.

Peace was a hope often contemplated through music, and not just for the defence forces. Israelis would frequently spend an evening with friends, singing in their living rooms or gathering for a kumzits (“come sit”) on the beach.

Today, it is painful to listen to these songs. While every country must grow, the songs ignite a longing for the Israel I remember, the Israel I want. It’s a nostalgic past, which disappeared in the 1970s, but, like many, I was an idealist. Optimism ruled and we all hoped for peaceful coexistence. Israeli peace songs and dances may have been the prescription back then, and I have to hope that their message is still valid today.

Jenny Wright is a singer, music therapist and freelance writer.

^TOP