Israel is contributing to efforts to aid and assist the Nepalese government to reach, rescue and treat injured victims of the recent earthquake. The IDF has set up a comprehensive field hospital and also has flown out emergency rations and tents. (photos by IDF via Ashernet)
After Nepal was hit by the biggest earthquake in 80 years, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) is aiding thousands of survivors through its relief efforts with partners on the ground, and is dispatching its disaster relief team from Kathmandu to remote villages to deliver aid and assess emerging needs in hard-hit areas. The team is assisting in the delivery of first-aid and shelter supplies, hygiene items, oral re-hydration solution, food packages and other supplies to 1,400 families over the coming days.
“Even while we’re helping survivors to heal throughout Nepal, we know more must be done and urge the public to continue its generous support of critically needed relief in this devastated country,” said Mandie Winston, director of JDC’s International Development Program. “Millions of Nepalese are facing harrowing conditions and the need for their immediate care, recovery and reconstruction efforts is required to secure Nepal’s future. Our efforts are focused on that path and to ensure the dignity of every human life along the way.”
To date, JDC has operated on three fronts in Nepal: the deployment of its expert disaster relief team on the ground; the support of locally based partners to ensure medical care and relief supplies within days of the quake; and the packing and shipping of medical and humanitarian supplies from the United States. These efforts have ensured life-saving medical treatment, food, clean water and shelter for Nepalese victims still reeling from the disaster. It has also enabled the assessment of needs and delivery of aid in real time, in tandem with changes on the ground, and the coordination of JDC’s network of local and international non-governmental partners working in Nepal.
These partners include the IDF Field Hospital, Tevel b’Tzedek, UNICEF, the Afya Foundation, the All India Disaster Mitigation Institute, Sarvodaya – Teach for Nepal, Heart to Heart International and Magen David Adom.
JDC has provided immediate relief and long-term assistance to victims of natural and man-made disasters around the globe, including the Philippines, Haiti, Japan and South Asia after the Indian Ocean tsunami, and continues to operate programs designed to rebuild infrastructure and community life in disaster-stricken regions.
JDC’s disaster relief programs are funded by special appeals of the Jewish Federations of North America and tens of thousands of individual donors to JDC. JDC coordinates its relief activities with the U.S. Department of State, USAID, Interaction, the Israeli Foreign Ministry, Israeli agencies and the UN coordination mechanism OCHA.
To contribute to the Nepal relief efforts, contact Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver at 604-257-5100 or visit jewishvancouver.com/nepal-relief-fund.
Duvdevan elite unit veterans who visited Vancouver on the weekend are, left to right, Gilad Waldman, Daniel Kolver, noted singer and actor Tzahi Halevi, who sang at the event, Ariel Rubin and Boaz Faschler. (photo by Robert Albanese Photography)
The historical, contemporary and future impacts of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem were celebrated Sunday night at Congregation Beth Israel.
Several hundred members of the community gathered to mark the 90th anniversary of what has become one of the world’s great academic institutions.
Founded in 1925 by some of the greatest thinkers of the 20th century, including Martin Buber, Chaim Weizmann, Chaim Nahman Bialik and Albert Einstein, the university has produced seven Nobel laureates and is routinely recognized as one of the 100 best universities in the world.
The culmination of the evening focused on four young Israeli soldier-students and a scholarship project intended to both reward dedication to the state of Israel and to ensure that individuals who have demonstrated that they are among the foremost citizens of that country will continue to contribute productively throughout their lives.
The young men who addressed the audience are recent veterans of Duvdevan, an elite anti-terror undercover unit of the Israel Defence Forces.
Daniel Kolver was motivated to strive to become a member of the elite unit after being a teenage eyewitness to the Passover massacre at the Park Hotel in Netanya, in 2002, at which 30 Israelis were murdered by a terrorist at a seder.
He explained that Duvdevan members often operate as “Trojan horses,” charged with locating and arresting – or killing – the most dangerous terrorists, those “ticking bombs” who are minutes or hours away from executing attacks.
Each year, about 15,000 17-year-old Israelis apply to serve in Duvdevan and 150 are accepted. After some of the most intensive military training in the world, these soldiers are entrusted with hostage rescues, capturing terrorists in extremely dangerous urban warfare situations and delicate counter-terrorism operations.
Last year alone, the unit participated in more than 400 missions – each one of which involved at least one suspect. Kolver screened dramatic video of an operation in which his unit had two minutes to get through a labyrinthine neighborhood, detonate an explosive to blow the door off the home of a terrorist, identify the man hiding behind his wife and extricate the target and the unit from the premises within 10 seconds.
Another speaker, Ariel Rubin, admitted that he initially sought acceptance to Duvdevan to show off that he got into the elite unit. But the excruciatingly tough training eliminated all ego and superfluous motives.
“You disconnect your head from the physicality and you say, I’m doing this for my country … to protect Israel, to protect the Jewish people, because if we’re not there, nobody’s going to do it for us,” he said.
Fellow unit veterans, Boaz Faschler and Gilad Waldman, spoke of the difficult transition from being in one of the most secretive military units to assimilating into everyday life.
Among the purposes of the presentation was to raise support for the scholarship fund at Hebrew U, which awards 50 scholarships annually to soldiers from Duvdevan after their years of service.
The evening event, organized by the Vancouver chapter of Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University, featured two other presentations.
Ambassador Ido Aharoni, consul general of Israel in New York, acknowledged that Israel is not winning the global war for public opinion. Significant to the problem Israel faces is that a huge proportion – 40% of North Americans and Europeans and 30% of much of the developing world – can be defined as “infosumers,” a tech-savvy group of individualists who seek out their own information and share specific traits. Among the characteristics of this growing demographic is that they see themselves as part of an expanding global identity whose national identities are eroding. They are also significantly unfavorable toward force, whether by the military or police. Aharoni’s thesis was reinforced by the fact that riots had been taking place for days in the United States over police brutality and murders of African-American civilians.
Screening a photograph of a presumably Palestinian youth throwing a rock at a tank, Aharoni noted that this is the global image most associated with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. But he also noted that polls indicate that in both Europe and North America, small numbers of people identify with either side in that conflict, most falling in the middle. Israel’s contradictory message of being both victim and victor, he said, is difficult to comprehend. And images of tanks versus stone-throwers, however unrepresentative this might be of the genuine power dynamic or context in the Israeli-Arab conflict, is not being successfully countered.
A more successful approach, he said, would be to appeal not to those who identify as opposed to the Israeli narrative, but to the large majority who subscribe to neither narrative. He called for greater emphasis on Israel’s contributions in fields of medicine, science, culture and other areas that benefit humankind.
Following the ambassador’s presentation, Prof. Noam Shoval of Hebrew U’s department of geography, spoke about the geographic realities of the city of Jerusalem.
Using a range of GPS and technological tools, researchers have studied the movement of Jerusalem’s residents and visitors, day and night, over time, to discover that the perception of Jerusalem as a culturally divided city is not accurate. There is an enormous amount of interaction by Jewish, Muslim and other residents of Jerusalem throughout and across areas of the city that are otherwise generally acknowledged as Jewish or Arab.
Shoval acknowledged that he would like to see Jerusalem remain united under Israeli jurisdiction, but he acknowledged that others might see a unified Jerusalem jointly administered by Israel and a future Palestinian state, or unified under some sort of international governance as was proposed in 1947. He concluded that dividing the city is not an ideal resolution.
“A division of the city is an outcome of war – not of peace,” he said.
At a ceremony in Tel Aviv, Gadi Eizenkot, second from left, succeeds Benny Gantz, far right, as IDF chief of staff. (photo from Flash90 from JNS.org)
The four-year term of Israel Defence Forces Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Benny Gantz officially ended earlier this week, with Gantz handing command of the military over to his deputy, Maj. Gen. Gadi Eizenkot, during a ceremony at Rabin Base in Tel Aviv on Feb. 16.
While serving as Gantz’s deputy, Eizenkot was part of major decisions on military reforms. He assumes command of the IDF during a time marked by tension in all sectors: the potential for further escalations in Gaza, concern over the growing unrest among Palestinians in Judea and Samaria, the volatile situation on Israel’s borders with Syria and Lebanon, and the erosion of Israel’s deterrence against Hezbollah.
Eizenkot acknowledged that he is taking over “in the midst of a tense and challenging period.” He said, “The Middle East is changing and it has become very volatile. Under my command, the IDF will prioritize its readiness, its operational skills and its ethical fortitude, so we may wield whatever force necessary in the defence of the Israeli public. I pledge to lead the Israel Defence Forces with determination and wisdom, and with the utmost commitment to Israel’s security and the public’s safety.”
Gantz said that during his time as IDF chief, “we have fortified our borders, we have adapted our response in all sectors and we have ensured our readiness to any scenario. We have taken forceful action when necessary, and our readiness has proven itself time and again,” he said. “It is important that we look at the challenges in the horizon, and it is equally important that we know how to reach out to our allies, to create spheres in which we can promote our interests and solutions.”
Gantz told Eizenkot, “The IDF is yours to lead now. Make your mark on it with the love we know you have for this military and the responsibility required of the position. The public is lucky to have you as the leader of its defence forces.”
At a defence establishment farewell event for Gantz, Israeli President Reuven Rivlin said the outgoing military leader was “everyone’s chief of staff, in true service of the public.”
“You have shown the utmost, unbiased dedication,” Rivlin told Gantz. “Over the past four years, you have led the IDF toward many achievements. You have bolstered the public’s faith in the military. You may be taking off your uniform, but I believe it will not be for long. We have called on you once, and maybe we will call on you again before too long. The people need you.”
Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu said, “If I had to describe Benny in two words, they would be ‘warrior’ and ‘humane.’ I have seen you deal with so many challenging situations, and what always came through was your humanity. I believe that behind the tough warrior exterior there’s more than just a sensitive soul – I think it is the soul of a poet.”
Cpl. Ben Levi is a participant in the Great in Uniform program. (photo from Israel Defence Forces)
The program Great in Uniform aims to integrate young Israelis with special needs into the Israel Defence Forces. To date, some 200 youths have been successfully integrated through the program into administrative and logistical positions in the IDF’s air force and home-front command.
The program was founded by Lt. Col. (Res.) Ariel Almog, who became disabled while serving in the IDF when responding to a terror attack. Eventually, he began looking for a way he could return to the army. He then realized that he would like to help make this a reality for others with disabilities, too.
Typically, Israeli teens with special needs are granted an exemption from obligatory military service. By opening a window and creating a support system for those wanting to volunteer to join the army, the IDF is making it possible for these young Israelis to be integrated into the army with their peers. The teens begin as volunteers, serving in various roles. In some cases, they can get advanced training and even become officers.
This has been the case with Ben Levi. Levi was diagnosed with cerebral palsy (CP) when he was born. He has learned to live with his disability and the 21-year-old longed to join the army and follow in the path that many in his family have taken: he wanted to serve in a fighting unit.
Levi said he currently works “in the storage room, which is part of the logistics force in the home command. When I have trouble, people help me, but I don’t feel I’m a volunteer. I feel I am a solider for all intents and purposes. I try to do what I can. I am disabled and it’s not obvious at all that I would have gotten as far in the army as I have.
“I can tell you a secret,” he added. “I’m actually interested in going for the officer’s course.
“I’m really happy I got to draft and that I get to serve the country,” he said.
Levi said he feels like a soldier just like any other, and has many friends on the base. When he runs into difficulty, he knows he has his family’s support. In fact, Levi’s family has gotten involved in the IDF program.
“It’s fantastic to wake up every morning and know that I am serving my country, have a job and a way to contribute – it proves to me that CP can’t limit me,” said Levi. “You come into the army as a child and you come out as a full grown person.”
Levi’s commander, Ariana Goldsmith, 18, is originally from Long Island, N.Y. She has been living in Ra’anana for the past seven years after making aliyah with her family.
Goldsmith’s becoming a commander of special soldiers was her own “dream come true,” she said.
“I’ve been volunteering for many years with people with special needs [with] Yachad. My cousin is special needs, I grew up with him, and I’ve been volunteering since I was younger for different organizations.”
Although Goldsmith only joined the IDF four months ago, she was given the title of commander to allow her to do her job – escorting special needs soldiers on base.
“Since I heard about this program, this job has been my dream,” said Goldsmith. “There’s no other job I want to do. So, I ended up getting in contact with the head of the program … it took a long time, about a year and a half, and a lot of working it out with the army, but it ended up working out.
“This is an unbelievable program – to see these kids … they just want to do it so bad. There are so many soldiers in the army who aren’t that into [serving]. You know, everyone has to [serve].” Those with disabilities, however, “don’t have to do the army,” she continued. “They want to, to give back, and they are unbelievable.”
Goldsmith is the only escort in the program at the moment, but that is not stopping her from blazing a trail for future escorts. “With my experience, I can give back to the program and make it more of an official job … so that, after me, more people can go into the army and become a commander for this program.”
Goldsmith feels most units in the army would benefit tremendously from incorporating special needs soldiers, and that the benefits of the program are greater for able-bodied soldiers than they are for special needs soldiers. “I think the base and soldiers get so much out of seeing these [special needs] soldiers being volunteers, and that all they want to do is work. They gain so much from seeing them, they learn a life lesson. Some of these soldiers have never seen special needs people before…. By seeing them and working with them, they gain so much patience and they make connections with them…. This really raises the morale on base in general.”
Gerald Lecovin on the production line at Matzrap Army Camp this past October. (photo from Gerald Lecovin)
Matzrap Army Camp, October 2014: It’s 8:15, time to work. Breakfast and flag raising are over. The Henna Hannahs are already on the job. This is the name I have given to the seven or eight elderly ladies who have been bused in from a senior citizens home, the color of their hair belying the rest of their bodies. They sit at a table, shmoozing while they place various combinations of medical supplies in small plastic bags, which are then sealed and placed in containers going out to the troops. They work steadily till lunch, which they are given before being bused back to their home. This is their – and our – contribution to Israel’s welfare.
We are 30 Sar-elniks, mostly Canadian, whose job it is to open containers, packs and medical vests coming back from the front. We empty them out, remove items that are no longer useable, replace the items and then repack everything. Containers are then sealed in plastic bags, put on pallets and shipped out. While they are replaced by more containers and the process repeats itself, there is a feeling of accomplishment every time a pallet leaves.
On this tour of duty, we were helped by groups of young solders training to be medics. There were 18-year-old women and, later, men who were from an elite Seal unit. The women were a reflection of Israeli society; Ashkenazim, Sephardim, Russians. Each with the ubiquitous cellphone. One day, one of the soldiers played songs for us by her favorite singers: Satchmo and Tony Bennett. Go figure! Comparing them to our kids of similar age was edifying.
Lunch is from 11:45 to 1:15. This is the big meal of the day. Salads, choice of hot meat entrée or vegetarian. By this time, the camp is jumping and we are eating with soldiers and staff. We return to work till 3 or 4 p.m., depending on the workload. Supper is at 5:45, and sometimes we have a lecture in the evening. This is our routine. Once a week, they plan an outing and we are bused to some site of interest.
Sar-el, which is an acronym for “service to Israel,” was conceived by General Aharon Davidi in 1983 when there was a need for laborers to bring in the crops as the soldiers were away fighting. Through his contacts in the United States, he managed to get 600 volunteers. Since that time, more than 50,000 people, of which 35 percent are Christian and 65 percent Jewish, have volunteered. About 3,500 from 60 countries come each year.
Originally, the age limits were 18 to 65, but when the general himself reached 65, he removed the upper limit. The oldest of our group was 92. People come for an average of two to three weeks; some for months. Of our group, only two were first timers. One was returning for his 100th time. I was a relative neophyte: this was my third time.
The feeling of being able to contribute to Israel in a meaningful way, and not just financially, is a strong magnet. I know this because I interview those volunteers that come from the West Coast and many of them contact me upon their return to share their thoughts.
Gerald Lecovin is a longtime resident of Vancouver, and has been active in community affairs. For the last 10 years, he has been Sar-el’s representative on the West Coast.
Jewish National Fund Pacific Region brought in IDF veteran Ari Zecher to speak. The talk, moderated by Geoffrey Druker, left, talked to a group at the Jewish Community Centre on Sept. 22. (photo from JNF-PR)
This Rosh Hashanah, the Vancouver Jewish community was visited by Ari Zecher, who served in the Israel Defence Forces Maglan special forces unit during Operation Protective Edge in Gaza this past summer.
Part of the Jewish National Fund’s High Holiday appeal to help build mobile bomb shelters in Israel, Zecher was invited to share his experience as a soldier and as a young Israeli during this tumultuous time. Speaking at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver and at various synagogues, Zecher thanked the local Jewish community for its unfailing and ongoing support, and highlighted the need for young and fresh ideas to move Israel forward towards a peaceful future for future generations.
Ilan Pilo, Jerusalem emissary and executive director of JNF Pacific Region, said: “We are grateful to Ari for taking the time to interact with over 1,000 members across our community and for speaking candidly about Israel’s challenges and hopes. As in the past, this year, JNF will continue to dedicate its work to enhancing the invaluable bond between Israel and the Canadian Jewish community in general, and our Vancouver community in particular. JNF salutes everyone who has made, or will make, a donation towards the important cause of keeping children in Israel safe during such difficult and uncertain times.”
For more information on the JNF’s bomb shelter campaign, call 604-257-5155 or visit vancouver.jnf.ca.
It’s a question that defines the debate over Israel’s policies and the state’s grand strategy: do Israeli human rights organizations monitoring the occupation merely serve as a fig leaf, adding an ethical patina to what is a fundamentally immoral situation?
Four months into his new position as head of B’Tselem, having come from the Association for Civil Rights in Israel, Hagai El-Ad and I spoke by phone recently about this and other issues. [To read the JI’s interview with El-Ad, click here.]
Given that the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and Gaza was supposed to be “temporary,” El-Ad is well aware that “at some point the term loses its meaning.” So, as he took the helm of B’Tselem last May, the organization issued a position paper provocatively named 47 Years of Temporary Occupation. As El-Ad put it, B’Tselem is shifting its focus from “fighting against human rights violations under occupation to a strategy [emphasizing] that the occupation will forever violate the human rights of Palestinians.” To this end, B’Tselem is now trying to end the occupation – not just help manage it.
It’s a laudable goal. But how achievable is it?
B’Tselem is starting with some concrete steps, however limited. For one, they have recently announced that they will not cooperate with Israel Defence Forces military investigations around Operation Protective Edge. Calling it “theatre of the absurd,” El-Ad believes that the military investigation system is one intended to “always result in impunity.” And this protected military violence is a necessary “lifeline of the occupation.” Hence, the need to squelch it.
As far as the bigger picture goes, El-Ad was cautiously optimistic: probably a necessary blend for anyone in human rights work in the Israel/Palestine morass. He takes comfort from what he sees as B’Tselem’s mission being fundamentally buttressed by the very human rights discourse extant in Israel. That the concept of human rights is a “relevant currency” in Israeli politics gives the organization an important starting point by which to leverage societal consensus. Though without the clout or mandate to engage in electoral lobbying efforts, working to end the occupation must be done very much at arm’s length from the policy sphere. Still, it’s a start.
El-Ad adds that he invites others to see what they can do “in their own communities” to disrupt the idea of the occupation as “business as usual.”
OK, so most of us can agree that the occupation is an undesirable situation, but what about the argument, issued frequently by Israel’s most strident defenders, that the status quo is a security imperative? If Hamas didn’t launch rockets, the thinking goes, the war in Gaza wouldn’t have been necessary. And, if West Bank Palestinians didn’t seek to blow up Israelis, the checkpoints and night raids and (the various) separate roads could be dismantled. And we all know about the apartheid, uh, separation, ahem, security wall.
Trading off between security on one hand, and human rights and ending occupation on the other, is a false dichotomy, El-Ad explained. In Gaza, “we’ve encountered time and again the theory that using more and more force will provide the desired outcome. But that’s not really working.” When it comes to day-to-day military policing in the West Bank to ensure the safety of Israeli citizens, we all know the chicken-egg argument: the internal checkpoints would be unnecessary were there not settlements (illegal under international law) to protect, hence, B’Tselem’s claim, in its 47 Years of Temporary Occupation document, that settlements are “the heart of the matter.”
Now that the fighting in Gaza has died down, B’Tselem is reflecting on its work compiling data on casualties, monitoring international humanitarian law violations – including by Hamas – and collecting first-person testimonies, attempting to put a face to the Palestinians in Gaza. El-Ad is quick to note that the media coverage in Israel tended to be one-sided, with little coverage of the war experience for Gazans. As an antidote, B’Tselem relied heavily on social media and web coverage to get additional information disseminated, despite a hacking attempt that left their website site crippled for a few days.
After talking to El-Ad, I’m left with a strange combination of hope and cynicism. As someone who cares deeply about seeing an end to the occupation, I’m buoyed by the fact that the head of Israel’s most important human rights organization has this broader goal top of mind. At the same time, absent the apparent political will in the top echelons of the Israeli government, I can’t escape the belief that intelligent, passionate and committed Israeli change-makers like El-Ad are too often left clapping with one hand.
Mira Sucharovis an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She blogs at Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. A version of this article was originally published on haartez.com.
Weapons recovered from a Hamas tunnel. (photo from IDF/FLICKR)
“One hundred Israeli schoolchildren killed in Hamas attack.” Israelis say this would have been just one of many similar headlines announcing untold loss of civilian life had Operation Protective Edge not been launched last month. The goal of the operation was to silence the seemingly endless barrages of Gaza rockets aimed at Israeli cities and towns, and to detect and destroy the vast network of underground tunnels dug beneath Gaza and into Israel by the Islamist Hamas terror organization.
As details of the tunnel system became public, Israelis were at once fascinated and infuriated to learn specifics of the intricate Trojan-horse-like network lurking beneath their communities; an engineering feat so potentially lethal that the national discussion is rife with unsubstantiated worries about terrorist plans for the execution of “an Israeli 9/11.”
Frequently heard were comments like, “Surely the high-tech nation should have the ability to detect tunnels!” while others ask how such an elaborate feat of engineering and construction could have proceeded right under the noses of the military in a security-savvy country with vast counter-terrorism experience.
In October 2013, Israeli army intelligence located entrances to one such tunnel just a couple of hundred metres from the entrance to Kibbutz Ein Hashlosha, a collective community in southern Israel near the border with Gaza.
On a tour of that network, standing at ground level, one can see the tunnel split in the middle, its branches extending deep into the earth, with one entrance/exit nearly a mile away – through Israeli territory and into the Gaza Strip – and the other a mere 600 metres (almost 2,000 feet) to the right: exiting into Israeli territory.
Moving closer required man- oeuvring through a steep downward 46-foot trek, assisted by the steadying hand of an IDF officer to navigate the distance from the surface to the underground passageway itself. Crawling through the deceptively small opening and out of the desert’s summer heat into the coolness of the subterranean concrete-encased structure, it was surprising to find myself standing upright, able to see far enough to sense the vast distance it covers. Though visibility was limited by the dearth of ambient light, helped only slightly by the lighting unit attached to our camera, the immense dimension of the tunnel was perceptible, the elaborate nature of the structure striking. From the sophisticated construction to the array of cables, conduits, finished ceilings, communication lines and pulley systems, it made sense that each tunnel was estimated to have required several years and millions of dollars to build – mostly by hand, with jackhammers and shovels.
Also discovered in many of the recently destroyed tunnels was a variety of weapons, army uniforms, motorcycles, chloroform and handcuffs: macabre “kidnapping kits.”
Fact: There are 200 Christian Arab Israelis serving in the Israel Defence Forces (IDF). Fact: There are 200 Muslim Arab Israelis serving in the IDF. Fact: There are 1,400 Bedouin serving in the IDF. Fact: There are 4,000 Druze serving in the IDF. Fact: There are 100 Circassians serving in the IDF.
Why don’t journalists write about them? Perhaps because most might find it hard to believe that these 5,900 view their citizenship to mean they have a role to play in defending their country. How do these minority members of the IDF come to the decision to serve their country?
A recent meeting with parents of minority soldiers in the IDF presented some context. The visit was organized by MediaCentral, an independent Jerusalem-based nongovernmental organization that provides support services for journalists based in or visiting Israel, the Palestinian Authority and the region.
Anett Haskia is an attractive, fashionably dressed blond with long, manicured fingernails. She is an Israeli Muslim Arab and outspoken. Growing up, she said, “It was not acceptable for our kids to join the army. Everyone [who wanted to join the army was] considered to be a traitor, but I didn’t see it as [being] a traitor. I saw it as taking responsibility like every other citizen.”
Twenty-two years ago, after a divorce, she and her three children moved to a kibbutz and she went to enrol them in a Jewish school, the first time that school had been approached to enrol an Arab child. He was accepted in three days.
As her children grew up, her older son decided to volunteer to serve in the IDF infantry; her daughter volunteered to serve in an education unit and became one of the first Arab Israeli women to serve in the IDF. Haskia’s youngest son is part of the Golani Brigade (an infantry brigade) currently serving in Gaza.
“The aim was not to integrate into Israeli society,” she said. “They [already] are Israeli. They want to live in the present and future as Israelis. They never suffered from being Arab and they never hid their heritage.” Haskia said she didn’t tell them to join the IDF, rather, it was a choice the children made as individuals.
Speaking to reporters, Yusuf Jahja said proudly, “I am a Muslim Arab citizen of the state of Israel.” A blue-collar worker most of his life, Jahja comes from an Arab village up north and has six sons and two daughters. His was the first family from his village to send their children to the Israeli army.
Three of the sons went to serve in the IDF together – two served in combat units and one in border patrol. In 2004, one of the sons was killed in an explosion in Gaza. The family’s home community initially boycotted the funeral. Today, two of Jahja’s sons are still serving their country.
Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, foreign correspondent, lecturer, food writer and book reviewer who lives in Jerusalem. She also does the restaurant features for janglo.net and leads weekly Shuk Walks in English in Jerusalem’s Jewish food market.
Gaza, July 28, 2014: An Israel Defence Forces soldier examines a newly revealed tunnel in the Gaza strip. (photo by IDF via Ashernet)
It’s been awhile since I’ve written. There’s a story I’ve been meaning to share but, unfortunately, circumstances have led me to write a different story entirely, about “the matzav.”
“The matzav” means, literally, “the situation,” but it’s used to refer euphemistically to a current bad security situation in Israel. You say it in a half whisper, the way our parents used to say, “cancer.”
“How’s business going now, with – the matzav?”
“We’re going up north for a few days because of – the matzav.”
“My mother-in-law has been with us for two weeks, thanks to – the matzav.”
It’s definitely not an easy time to be in Israel, though now, more than ever, there is no place I would rather be.
I didn’t grow up in a particularly Zionist household. Most of what I know about Judaism and Israel I learned in college. People used to say to me that being in Israel is like being with family, and making aliyah is like coming home. My family never shoved in front of me to get on buses or overcharged me for souvenirs, so I guess I just couldn’t relate.
I got a little taste of the family thing when I was visiting Israel 12 years ago on a mission during the Second Intifada, when tourism was at an all-time low. I went to the falafel stand in the Old City by the Cardo with my 10-month-old son. There were no other tourists to be found. The owner, who was usually just interested in taking orders and keeping the line moving, insisted on holding the baby while I ate. This was like my family – not always warm and fuzzy, but there for you in hard times.
These are hard times. There’s been a constant barrage of rockets in southern Israel for weeks, keeping the population within 15 seconds of a bomb shelter. As I wrote these words, four people were killed by a rocket fired from a playground in Gaza. This morning, a man on the radio was saying that he’s terrified to shower or even go to the bathroom for fear a siren will go off.
Another woman was asleep and didn’t hear a siren. She only heard the rocket hit her house. She is being treated in the hospital for wounds to the head, legs and knees, but no treatment will cure the fear you can hear in her voice, unable to speak in full sentences.
On the other side of the border, the suffering in indescribable and the media images haunting. I feel torn apart by my pain for the Palestinian losses on the one hand and the need for us to defend ourselves on the other. Then there’s the sadness for the soldiers who are trained to minimize civilian casualties, but who find themselves hurting innocent civilians, behind whom the cowardly terrorists hide.
Our “adopted” lone soldier Danna tells us stories of what her friends see who are serving in Gaza – hospitals and UN schools hiding weapons and terrorists; gunmen literally hiding behind families; terrorists shooting with a gun in one hand and a baby in the other.
As Golda Meir said to Anwar Sadat just before the peace talks with Egypt, “We can forgive you for killing our sons. But we will never forgive you for making us kill yours.”
Before the war started, I got a call one Friday afternoon.
“Hi, Emily. We’re thinking of cancelling the partnership minyan this week, but I just want to check with you, because I know you worked hard on your speech.”
“Oh, well, sure … but why?”
“We just thought it would be better for the whole community to pray together tonight because of, you know – the matzav.” (Pause) “Did you not here what happened?”
That’s how I heard about the three kidnapped soldiers.
You would think all three of them were from our kibbutz, the way people spoke of them and cried and prayed for them and organized around helping their families. The whole country was suddenly one big family. One big, sad family.
At school, the teachers held special meetings with their pupils to help them digest the news and share their feelings. They had a meeting in the evening to help parents with how to talk to their kids. All this despite the fact that the three boys were from a different part of the country and not at all connected to our school or our region, except that here everyone is connected. At these times, we’re all cousins, brothers, sons.
The news a few weeks later – that the boys were killed – hit hard. I was out for the day to Beit Shean with my son Abaye to get braces on his teeth. Abaye is very sensitive to “the matzav” and I try to keep him away from the news most of the time so we can share things with him in our own way, but there was no escape. The news was on in the dentist’s office, and staff and patients were openly crying. Afterwards, we went for ice cream and the ice cream shop was playing the tape over and over again. Everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen.
“You’re an ice cream shop!” I wanted to yell at them, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The whole country was in mourning.
Then the rockets started in the south. Everyone’s hearts turned to the families under fire. Our kibbutz Google group filled up with suggestions of where you could bring food and supplies, requests to run programs, and even invitations to drive down south into the fire to help entertain kids in bomb shelters. There were so many projects being run out of so many places that volunteers had to quickly set up a committee to manage them all.
Our area happens to be one of the safest parts of the country. We haven’t heard any sirens. We haven’t even unlocked our bomb shelters. So, everyone is opening their homes.
Several families have come to our kibbutz for a break, and our youth group organized a camp for a week with peers from a kibbutz in the south. I heard on the radio about a resort nearby that has opened its doors to another kibbutz (200 people!), feeding and housing them and running programs for the kids. And these are just a few tiny examples. Every community is doing something.
Then there are the troops fighting in Gaza.
Soldiers were sent to the border to defend our country from rocket attacks. Prime Minister Netanyahu tried to stave off a ground incursion, but the rockets kept falling and, it seems, there was work that could only be done on the ground.
When the army finally went in, they discovered a complex underground tunnel network that Hamas had built to infiltrate Israel. It seems they were planning a massive operation for the upcoming Rosh Hashanah – hundreds of terrorists were scheduled to appear from nowhere in kibbutzim and villages across the south, dressed in Israeli uniforms, for a mega terrorist attack. It’s chilling to think about what they might have done.
Several of the fatalities of this war, including the three kidnapped boys, have resulted from terrorists coming through these tunnels. They lead from private homes in Gaza right into Israeli neighborhoods, one ending directly beneath the dining hall of a kibbutz. It was reported that children on the kibbutz had been complaining they could hear someone digging under them, but adults hadn’t taken them seriously, because how could that possibly be?
So, now we are at war in Gaza until we get rid of the tunnels, of which 30 have been discovered so far, and many destroyed. Meanwhile, the number of fallen and wounded soldiers continues to rise, as well as, of course, the massive toll on both terrorist and innocent Gazans.
But I wanted to tell you about the efforts to support our troops.
Being the army of the Jewish people, the aid started with, of course, food. Fresh meals, cakes and treats – you name them. A renowned chef opened shop to provide gourmet cuisine for the soldiers.
At one point, we got the message that it’s enough food, and now could we please send personal hygiene products (soaps, deodorants, etc.) and “fresh towels with the scent of home”? In addition, children sent so many letters of love and support that the soldiers use them to wallpaper their tanks and living spaces. At the camp for Adin, my nine-year-old son, they changed the program this week so that every day was a different activity to support the soldiers – making gifts, preparing food and raising money.
And, of course, it’s difficult for soldiers to communicate with their families, so the radio has taken to running extra programs in which they can send personal messages.
“Hi Mom, Dad and, of course, my girlfriend Tal. I’m here to protect you and I’m fine, so you can sleep without worrying. I love you.”
And I’m sure Mom, Dad, Tal and half the country are crying with me.
Among the first losses of the war, we heard about the falling of two lone soldiers – people like our “adopted” daughter, who moved to Israel voluntarily to protect our country, who are here with no family. It made me sad to think these people would be buried alone, but what could anyone do? Their whole family is overseas.
A photo of one of these fallen boys, Sean Carmeli from Texas, appeared on the news in a Maccabee-Haifa soccer T-shirt. They were his favorite team. The team apparently shared my concern and made an appeal for people to attend his funeral. Twenty thousand people showed up!
You could call it a social media ploy, but I don’t think so. The next day, there was a funeral for the other lone soldier, Max Steinberg from California. I was afraid his funeral would pale in comparison to Sean’s, seeing as he wasn’t a major sports fan. But my fear was baseless. Thirty thousand people were in attendance. Those who were interviewed about why they came simply said that he made the ultimate sacrifice for them when he didn’t need to, and it was the least they could do.
Max’s family had never been to Israel before. I thought about my own mother, who did not want us to make aliyah, and who would never forgive me if, God forbid, anything happened to any of my kids. Max’s parents and siblings were overwhelmed by the turnout.
His mother Evie told the mourners, “We now know why Max fell in love with Israel. It was all because of its people. He was embraced with open arms and treated like family,” she said, “and, for that, we are eternally grateful.”
When his sister began, “We come from a very small family,” I held my breath expecting to hear her anger or sadness at having lost her brother. Instead, she continued, “But that seemed to quickly change after meeting people in Israel, who made it feel like one big family.”
This morning, I was out walking in the forest around the kibbutz when a new song came on the radio by Ariel Horowitz, son of one of Israel’s greatest singers, Naomi Shemer. The song is about the lone soldier Sean Carmeli. The writer had attended the funeral and was deeply moved. The chorus goes something like this:
20,000 people and you’re at the front. 20,00 people are behind you, Sean. Marching in silence with flowers, Two sisters and 20,000 brothers.
Sgt. Nissim Sean Carmeli and Sgt. Max Steinberg, and all our fallen soldiers will never be forgotten, because we don’t forget family.
Emily Singeris a teacher, social worker and freelance writer. Singer and her husband, Ross, were rebbetzin and rabbi of Vancouver’s Shaarey Tefilah congregation until 2004. The Singers spent two years in Jerusalem and then moved to Baltimore, Md., where Ross was rabbi at Congregation Beth Tfiloh and Emily taught Judaic studies at Beth Tfiloh High School, until they moved to Israel in 2010. They have four children, and live on Kibbutz Maale Gilboa.