One of the things I remember vividly from years spent
traveling in Europe (Eastern and Western) in the 1980s was the prevalence of
soldiers everywhere I went.
The machine guns carried by police in France and Italy
certainly caught me by surprise (especially after a stint in England where
bobbies still relied on their billy clubs).
But it was large numbers of men (really boys) in uniform clogging up the
trains I took from one city to another that was most jarring.
After all, despite America’s superpower status (rivaled back
then by the Soviet Union), my interaction with military personnel at home had
been quite limited. A few friends joined
the National Guard after high school, and occasionally a Dad who worked on a
nearby Air Force base would show up at a Boy Scout meeting in fatigues. But
even today, the sight of large numbers of military personnel (like a line of
soldiers getting off an airplane) seems so unusual that non-soldiers seeing
such an “event” feel the need to act as if something extraordinary is happening
(often by breaking into applause).
If my own experience raising members of the next generation
is any indication, the connection between the people who defend the nation and those
of us they defend has only grown more distant and abstract since the Cold War
ended. That airport applause is meant to
show that the sacrifices others are making on our behalf is appreciated, but
that appreciation is as much for the professional soldier giving us the space
to “get on with our lives” in ways that don’t require us to strap on a weapon
and go into battle ourselves.
The gap between what the soldier sacrifices to defend us
(including killing and dying) and what we sacrifice to be defended (paying
taxes and “supporting the troops”) is similar to the one a person might
experience when contemplating an object they purchased (be it a house, a boat
or a toy) vs. one they made with their own hands. In fact, much of modern anxiety (at least in
the West) likely stems from the disconnect between the things we enjoy
(comfort, entertainment, freedom) and what we have actually created or
sacrificed to possess those treasures.
I bring this up in the context of a point I’ve made
before about why Israel seems so unusual, even to those of us dedicated to
that nation and her people. Some of that
unusualness is the lack of a soldier-citizen distinction we experience at home,
represented by men and women in uniform everywhere in Israel, an armed
citizenry, and ubiquitous machine guns. But I would also highlight that the
average Israeli you run into can list things they, their parents and
grandparents did to actually create and build a nation – something few of us
can do beyond listing a “Greatest Generation” relative who might have fought in
World War II.
If happiness derives from purpose, this might explain why
Israelis are among the happiest people on earth, despite living under constant
threats ranging from random knifing to complete annihilation. In recent posts,
I’ve alluded to Israel’s early days when the nation was founded, exiles became
citizens and the nation triumphed in war after war with far larger deadly
rivals – all without the patronage of a superpower.
Some might attribute this spectacular success to God or
Jewish genius. But examples of other
nations (such as South Korea) picking themselves up and transforming through
commitment and will demonstrates that a citizenry with a sense of purpose and
mission can do stunning things, beyond even what can be accomplished by much
larger nations with far more resources whose citizens act as if they inherited
vs. built their society.
Getting back to our old friend BDS, I suppose it’s possible
that getting a few B-list celebrities to cancel gigs in Israel or getting a
West Coast food coop to stop selling Israeli bouillon cubes will completely
demoralize a people whose sense of shared purpose allowed them to build a country,
resurrect a language and culture, rescue men and women who survived genocide,
helped citizens achieve meaningful lives, and emerge victorious through nearly
a century of armed conflict. It doesn’t
seem like a good bet to me, but if any BDSers out there want to commit another
decade or three to the effort: knock yourself out.