I Leave Home to Go Home
March 21, 2024
Tomorrow I Leave Home to Go Home
If you enjoy Backwards and Forwards, please forward these newsletters to your network and subscribe.
Finally, a relaxed morning. Tomorrow, I fly home to Maryland. But I feel at home here in Israel too.
Harkening back to my first post, I came to Israel for many reasons. But the purpose for this trip was simply to be here, visit people, hear stories, and share these stories with you. If you read on to the bottom, I will have accomplished my mission. And if more time were in my cards, I could stay. I speak Hebrew pretty well. I have my bearings. Israel feels like home too. In this post, I will share some thoughts and experiences.
What has amazed me most is the sense that on the surface life continues unabated in much of the country. Things are quiet for now. Although always prepared, I have not heard a Red Alert or had to scamper into bomb shelters. On the streets of Tel Aviv and Jerusalem and Be’er Sheva and Harish, life has returned to normal. I have seen soldiers, kids actually, traveling home in their uniforms, but no troops on the road. I am surprised by the lack of external security (much more prevalent 20 years ago). The stores are open. The restaurants are full. Lots of traffic on the road. The train is fantastic (35 minutes from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem). The food, good God, the food is fantastic. Still, the hotels are filled with people from the North and Gaza adjacent who cannot return to their homes. Life is normal/not normal.
Our news reports show fighting and tension and misery, depicting Israel as a low-class Sparta filled with brutes and bullies and in-fighting. But I assure you that all my experiences here, even the emotionally difficult ones, were all done in the utmost of comfort. I feel safer here than on the streets of Washington, DC. The hardest part of my departure tomorrow is not knowing when I am coming back.
Still, the country as a whole is discussing lots of issues, existential issues that may determine the future of the Zionist (I am a proud one!) endeavor. How to wage this war? How does Israel fit into this neighborhood? What are the implications here for the Jewish people and western civilization if Israel fails? How to keep this small country, divided by so many stripes and colors—religious, ethnic, cultural, economic—united to serve the common good? Nobody has clear answers to these questions. But everyday life here is still good. Remarkably good as a matter of fact.
Behind the scenes, though, people worry. They are depressed, sad. They have no faith in their government. Young people and people from all walks of life serve in the army and the reserves. This generation of people are scarred by October 7th. Children are scared to be alone. Israelis are understandably jumpy.
Taxi Conversations:
When I come to Israel, taxi drivers are some of the best barometers of public opinion. Every taxi driver is an expert on life, which is why they drive taxis. They impart their wisdom to American tourists. They hear my accent and start engaging in conversation.
Taxi 1:
“Who’s going to be President?”
“I don’t know. Who do you prefer?”
Unanswered.
“Why does the world hate Israel? Why do American Jews hate Israel?”
“They don’t. The vast majority of American Jews support and love Israel.”
Here is where “taxi expertise” comes in.
“That’s not true. They hate us. I see their demonstrations on TV. American Jews hate us.”
Taxi 2
“Vere are you from?”
“Vashington, DC.” (Hebrew has no “w” sound.)
“Vy do you live in Vashinton, DC? It is terrible for the Jews there. You have one Jewish country. You should live here! Vy don’t you live here?”
I stammer. “I am retired…my family is there…” I try to explain myself, which I realize is ridiculous because I am trying to explain my life’s complexities to a taxi driver whom I will never see again and to whom I owe nothing except for a pocket full of shekels for the fare. But being a Zionist has a claim on me. There is one Jewish state and truth be told, I feel less fulfilled not living here.
Government and Society:
My own sample of the Israeli sentiment is this. Israelis I spoke to HATE their government, and they HATE Bibi Netanyahu. They HATE everything about him. They HATE his wife, Sara. They HATE the fact that she built a swimming pool in her house while Israelis are evacuated to live in hotel rooms. They HATE Yair Netanyahu, who was sent into obscurity to Miami at the same time that the rest of Israel sends their children to the Army to defend their country. They HATE Bibi’s self-serving utterances. The numbers that support Bibi here are ridiculously small. For now, anyway. But elections have their own dynamics, and nobody can predict the future.
A friend takes the newspaper every morning, sees Bibi’s face and picks up a black marker and scrawls all over it. My cousin cannot stop himself. “Bibi is worse than garbage. He is below the gutter. He belongs on the bottom of the toilet bowl. If only Bibi were out, things would be a lot better in this country.”
I didn’t come here to attack or defend Bibi Netanyahu. I came to listen.
Here are the reasons why Bibi has earned their disgust.
They blame Bibi for the decades long policy that attempted to buy off Hamas while he watched with a blink and a nod as they built these horrible tunnels where they now hide the kidnapped hostages.
They blame Bibi for the fact that the IDF was absent from Gaza for the first many hours that the towns and kibbutzim were overrun.
They blame Bibi that the government had no effective plan for the army or the civilians, that Israelis were left on their own to do it themselves.
They blame Bibi for the deterioration of Israel’s standing in the world and with the United States.
They blame Bibi for encouraging the hard right; bringing Smotrich and Ben Gvir into the government and appointing them to be in charge of finance and security, about which they know nothing.
They blame Bibi for dividing the country with his stupid judicial reforms that the large majority of the country did not want, and how he ignored the protesters week after week.
They blame Bibi for funding the ultra-orthodox yeshivot (religious schools) at the expense of the 85% of other Israelis who pay taxes and serve in the military.
They blame Bibi for providing welfare payments and military exemptions to the ultra-orthodox so they do not have to work. The Israelis I spoke with shoulder the burdens of citizenship. The ultra-orthodox provide prayers as they reach in and empty the treasury’s bare cupboards.
They HATE the fact the Bibi has not yet acknowledged any responsibility for the massive failures which led to October 7th and its aftermath. His government ignored intelligence reports that warned of the preparations for the Hamas attack.
Throughout the Tel Aviv area, posters, signs and billboards appear with half of Bibi’s face and the taunting words:
Attah haRosh, Attah Ashem. You are the head, You are guilty.
I don’t know who orchestrates these posters and billboards, but they reflect the rage and betrayal that my sample of Israelis feel towards the government.
But—Do not think that the society here has fallen apart. This country is much more united than I have ever seen, despite the poor functioning and low esteem of its government.
Even more present than the anti-Bibi screeds are the posters everywhere which say, “United We Will Win.”
Immediately on October 7th, the judicial reform protesters jumped into action providing clothing, food, and equipment for the soldiers in Gaza. The government was flat footed. Judicial reform protesters brought underwear and socks and batteries for their soldiers and got them to the army bases immediately. The evacuees from the Gaza envelope were overwhelmed with clothes and toys and efforts to make them comfortable as they wait out the war in the south and from the north too. They organized schools and childcare and social activities. They provide counseling and shiva meals and made sure that nobody was buried alone or mourned alone, and physical therapy and messages and . . . the entire country rallied in ways that are inconceivable to me as an American.
When the reserves were called up, 130% of the people needed left their homes and businesses to answer their call.
The government is a great disappointment. But the people and the society are extraordinary.
I volunteered for an afternoon providing free retail services at Hostage Square. I was on my feet for hours selling pins and ribbons and posters to support the hostage families. Some entity, not the government, organized the merchandise for sale, the volunteer schedule, the layout of the “booths,” the activities, the distribution of proceeds to the families, the tents for shade and the people who briefed groups about the hostages and their families’ campaign to bring them home, the food and coffee and cake for the volunteers, the audio-visual equipment to display the lives of those taken captive. I myself must have sold thousands of dollars of merchandise and very few people asked for change back. “Keep the money as a donation.”
I don’t know who oversees all this, but it gets done. This is a society that is committed to the future.
Adele Raemer is my age. She came to Israel, settled on Kibbutz Nirim and taught English in the high school. She raised her family there. Life wasn’t always good or easy, but it was satisfying. She told us about her terrible experience in the Kibbutz on October 7, how the terrorists were in her home and that they left inexplicably without blowing up her home or getting into their safe room. Her grandchildren, the same exact age as mine, hid under their bed for hours before they were rescued. They watched their father kill a terrorist in their own home. The kibbutz is working to stay together while they are living in apartments waiting for the all-clear to return home to rebuild their lives. But everyone is scarred. The children have nightmares. A generation of Israelis and Gazans are both damaged. What will emerge?
Most people learn to live with their disappointment and sorrow. They persevere. After the Shoah, most Jews learned to live again with hope and joy. That does not mean that the horrors were insignificant. They are defining, a branding on the heart of the people who suffered. But life is more than just the pain we have had to endure. I believe that most Israelis and Arabs too will overcome these dark days. The sun does shine here, even if the mood is dark.
Watching the news about Israel from abroad is disheartening. But being here and bearing witness to all that the Israelis are doing to keep their society going is extraordinary. As an American, I am envious of Israeli ingenuity and initiative. The situation here is dire. But the people are amazing. They are determined. They are not angry or enraged (except at you know who and his lieutenants and the bearded rabbis), but rather determined to overcome. And I must say proudly, I have not heard any nastiness towards the people of Gaza or against Arabs in Israel.
Still,
I asked the question to many thoughtful folks, “What’s going to be in the future when this war is over.” (By the way, the war will end. All wars end.) This war is so terrible for both sides that it may be impossible for the parties to see their way out and it might continue for a long time. Or, this might be the jolt that after the dust settles folks might come together to find a new way to relate to each other. Eight million Jews and 6 million Arabs will not disappear, despite the silly chants at America’s elite academic institutions or the wishful fantasies of the extreme right wing. The reality is that neither the Jews or the Arabs have the power to banish the other with force or wishful thinking. Here we are, bound together on the altar of civilization. Here all will stay.
We had lunch with a remarkable person in the know who shared some bleak thoughts. The Tel Avivians, the army servers and the educated hi-tech folks are all making plans to leave. That doesn’t mean they are leaving today. But if things don’t improve, the people who make this country run and defend it will leave in large numbers. These people are making plans. The status quo is not tolerable. Then what?
I shared this question with others, and they vehemently denied this scenario. They have good lives here, meaningful lives here, and they don’t intend to leave. They believe in the Zionist enterprise and will reclaim it. That was very heartening for me.
But then we visited with a professor in Jerusalem. He shared that his daughter, born in Israel and committed to the country and the founding ideals of the Jewish state is soon to leave for London with her husband. She cannot take it anymore. She loves the country still. Maybe she will come back. Maybe not. But she needs a break.
As I conclude this long post, how should I describe my experience? I am amazed and dismayed and depressed and encouraged. All these things go hand in hand in living as a Jew in Israel, and living as a Jew in Vashington, DC too. These are not good times, anywhere, for us.
I am amazed at the complexity of the problems facing us. And I am also amazed at the ingenuity and the dedication of enough Jews to make sure that we will persevere and thrive in the future. The immediate challenges before us are spelled out clearly. But our long-term strengths as a people, especially in Israel, will meet our challenges and overcome them. I don’t know how or when.
But I choose to be a believer. Copy the link to the music below and paste it into your browser. The past is painful. The future must be hopeful.