Reflections on a Thirty Two Year Old Relationship

Reflections on a Thirty Two Year Old Relationship

Over thirty-two years I have come to Israel, to study, to live, to teach, and to celebrate. Each time I have come, Israel presents itself anew. Each time I came, my love and commitment to Israel deepened. Over this time Israelbecame familiar to me, it was almost like home. I would spend more time with my friends and family than touring. I saw them change as well over this time.

In 1974, I came to Israel as a twenty year old to study at the Hebrew University for my junior year. I came in the summer, following the Yom Kippur War. My first experience of Israel was as a people suffering the agonizing pain from nearly losing a war. Over three thousand soldiers died despite a late and impressive victory. Many students who served in the reserves had died or had been wounded. Their absence was palpable at the university. The survivors were somber and subdued.

I came back in the summers of 1977 to 1980 as head counselor for a high school program from Los Angeles. These were times of change and hope in Israel. The opposition Likud came to power after 29 years in the opposition. Soon afterwards, Anwar Sadat decided to come to Jerusalem.

The country entered a euphoric phase with the hope of peace with Egypt. I recall those hopeful times in Israel, the beginning of a peace movement. At the same time with the support of the Likud government settlements began to grow in Judah, Shomrom, and Gaza (as the West Bank was called by the government). The settlers were young and idealisticand captured the imagination of Israelis. A few people began to warn about the impact of the settler policy, but few heeded it. There were dramatic terrorist attacks from the PLO, but they were sporadic and did not paralyze the country.

I came to live for a year of rabbinical school during the year of 1979-1980. I recall traveling to Egyptduring Passover. Travel for Israeli and American tourists had opened up that year. My trip to Luxor and Cairo was remarkable. I experienced the warm hospitality of Egyptians and felt a sense of greater optimism from most of the people I met. Also on that trip I met the first Islamic fundamentalists, students at an Islamic University in Cairo.

They came to hear a talk by Richard Murphy, a diplomat from the state department. One student from Lebanon told me bluntly that Islamic law could not tolerate a non-Islamic entity in a land formerly under Islamic rule. He promised me that the Jews would live more happily under a Muslim state in Palestinethan under a corrupt, Westernized rule of the Zionists. I thought he was a kook. This was a couple years after the Iranian revolution and I did not yet appreciate the growing Islamic fundamentalism emerging in the Arab countries.

I came back for extended visits in 1984 and 1988. These years I remember as times of growth in Israel. The Russian and the Ethiopian aliyah were beginning to take place. There were wars too, Israel was in Lebanon where it threw out the PLO, but soon got mired in a war of attrition which lasted 18 years. In 1988, I came during the first Intifada. On all my previous visits it was easy to go into the West Bank, to visit Hevron, to stop in the Arab markets or towns. But I did not go during that summer. From that point on the West Bank became foreign to me, partly out of choice, partly out of security. The settler movement was politically powerful and insisted on large resources to fuel its growth. I despised Ariel Sharon who gave the settlers power and influence. Israel was a politically divided country and I identified with the burgeoning peace movement.

During late 80s and early 90s, I came over to Israel on periodic summers, beginning my association with the Hartman Institute. I would come over for two weeks of intensive study and was brought up to date on Israeli culture and politics. I missed the gulf war when Israelis were confined to their sealed rooms to protect themselves againstthe threats of Sadam Hussein. The beginnings of a peace process were stirring, but it was slow. More and more Russians were coming and the country was changing.

My family and I came over to Israel during the year 1994-5 as the Oslopeace process began to be implemented. I recall the year as being a hopeful time, yet over the time of our stay, we felt growing suspicion and opposition to the process. Three were dramatic suicide bus bombings by Hamas, whichopposed the process. The settler movement began to organize against the accords and by the time we left Rabin and his government were vilified in posters and in public places. Oslowas extremely divisive in Israel and there was a great deal of intense political debate and struggle. A few months after we left Rabin was assassinated as this debate reached a boil.

I continued to visit Israel during summer visits to the Hartman Institute in the late 90s. These were seesaw years as a labor government of Barak replaced a right wing administration of Netanyahu. The pace of political change seemed to get faster. Israel was prospering. Israelis would talk about being independent from American Jews. The settlements continued to grow and to exert their political clout. Barak's victory sped up political change. I remember this brief period as a peaceful one. Israelis wanted out of Lebanonand Barak got them out after 18 years in a unilateral withdrawal. The peace process was heating up and moving toward a final agreement. I remember this time as one of growing hope.

When I returned for several extended visits staring in the summer of 2003 I found a very different country. For three years the 2nd Intifada had ravaged the Palestinian and Jewish population. I came toward the end of the crisis when Israel had launched operation Defensive Shield and had severely weakened the Palestinian terrorist organizations. The West Bankfence was being erected and it had reduced the incidents of suicide bombers. But with the death toll diminishing the hope index was at an all time low. My Israeli friends despaired of a peace partner. During this time a new idea emerged, Unilateralism. In the name of preserving a Jewish demographic majority, Israel was prepared to withdraw from Gaza and leave it to the Palestinians. In the summer of 2005 the drama of the disengagement played out in Israel. The result was a difficult but peaceful pullout of Gaza.

I have just returned from my most recent summer visit to Israel. This summer brought sudden and dangerous war to Israel, prompted by a vicious Hezbollah attack that caused Israel to open hostilities against Hezbollah in Lebanon. This was the first time in my 32 years that I was in Israel during a major war.

Israelis are sadly accustomed to war. This war has a different feel. It comes long after the peace process had collapsed and found most Israelis in a deeply pessimistic mood regarding the prospects of peace. Israeli young people do not speak of peace in their lifetimes. They think more about their careers, their personal hopes. They accept their national obligations to serve and understand the need to defend the country, but they have suppressed their hopes. There is a search for comfort in religion and spirituality. There is a renewed interest in Judaism among some secular youth and a widespread search for meaning among them in Eastern forms of religion.

The second thing I observed is that Israelis believe that no matter how many concessions they make, regardless if the government withdraws from occupied territory, they will be subject to attack. This is the lesson of Lebanon and Gaza. This is all the more poignant because most Israelis have abandoned their romance with the settlers and the settlements. Israelis feel that they are now is a prolonged fight for their existence; they are defending their homes.

One of the most noteworthy comments during my month in Israelwas made by Ami Ayalon, the former Shin-Beit director and member of parliament. He felt that until the Palestinians could be given hope of an improvement of their condition that Israelwould face a hostile Palestinian people. Today there is an overbearing feeling of mutual hopelessness. Maybe another round of war will create the conditions for hope, but it is a historical truth that hopelessness is an appetizer for warthan for peace. I fear that the strivings for peace will remain underground until enough people on both sides say enough. We are not there yet by any means.