According to this assessment, one key aspect of today’s domestic terrorism threat emerges from racially or ethnically motivated violent extremists and networks whose racial, ethnic, or religious hatred leads them toward violence, as well as those whom they encourage to take violent action. These actors have different motivations, but many focus their violence towards the same segment or segments of the American community, whether persons of color, immigrants, Jews, Muslims, other religious minorities, women and girls, LGBTQI+ individuals, or others. Their insistence on violence can, at times, be explicit. It also can, at times, be less explicit, lurking in ideologies rooted in a perception of the superiority of the white race that call for violence in furtherance of perverse and abhorrent notions of racial “purity” or “cleansing.”Another key component of the threat comes from anti–government or anti–authority violent extremists. This significant component of today’s threat includes self–proclaimed “militias” and militia violent extremists who take steps to violently resist government authority or facilitate the overthrow of the U.S. Government based on perceived overreach; anarchist violent extremists, who violently oppose all forms of capitalism, corporate globalization, and governing institutions, which they perceive as harmful to society; sovereign citizen violent extremists, who believe they are immune from government authority and laws; or any other National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism 9 individual or group who engages in violence – or incites imminent violence – in opposition to legislative, regulatory, or other actions taken by the government. Other domestic terrorists may be motivated to violence by single–issue ideologies related to abortion–, animal rights–, environmental–, or involuntary celibate–violent extremism, as well as other grievances – or a combination of ideological influences. In some cases, individuals may develop their own idiosyncratic justifications for violence that defy ready categorization.
Tuesday, June 28, 2022
- Tuesday, June 28, 2022
- Elder of Ziyon
- 9/11, counterterrorism, Islamic terrorism, Joe Biden, National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism, President Biden, Terrorism, USA
Wednesday, February 23, 2022
- Wednesday, February 23, 2022
- Varda Meyers Epstein (Judean Rose)
- interview, Judean Rose, Terrorism, Varda
Avraham David Moses was murdered on the eve of what is
considered to be the happiest month in the Jewish calendar, Rosh Chodesh Adar. In the secular
calendar, it was March 6, 2008, and Rivkah Moriah and her former husband David
were preparing for a class to be given that evening by Rav Aharon Lichtenstein in celebration of the 40th anniversary of Yeshivat Har Etzion. As the couple
gathered source materials for the lecture, Rivkah received the first text
message: “Attack in Mercaz HaRav, three moderately injured.”
We are used to these moments, here in Israel. Most of the
time, our loved ones were nowhere near the scene of the attack, had left there
hours before, or had just left and were only a block away and could hear the
explosion and see the smoke. So we have learned not to get too excited when we
hear of an attack on the news. We have learned to stay calm, to phone loved
ones, and touch base.
That’s what happens most of the time. But that was not what happened to Rivkah Moriah and her son Avraham David. There was an attack,
she tried to reach both Avraham David and his study partner, and all of her calls went
unanswered.
Her calls went unanswered because her 16-year-old son and
firstborn was murdered while studying Torah in a seminary study hall. Along
with his study partner, Segev.
***
When I heard, I thought about running into Rivkah at the grocery store, just three years earlier. Her cart had been filled with ingredients to make lasagna for a crowd. She was preparing for
Avraham David’s bar mitzvah. You could see how happy she was, it was in her
eyes. He was her firstborn.
Rivkah and a very young Avraham David, her firstborn |
And now, three years later, Rivkah was preparing to see her son buried,
a good boy, a studious boy. A boy who was murdered while learning Torah.
How could a mother bear it? The short answer is no one
could.
It is now 14 years since Rivkah Moriah became an “angel
mom.” That’s a long time, almost as long as her Avraham David’s short life. And still,
from my lucky distance, I can see the lasting impact, the sadness and the pain.
Blood-stained holy book at the scene of the Mercaz HaRav Massacre |
Since it is Adar I have been thinking about this. I always
think about Rivkah Moriah and her son Avraham David Moses in Adar. Adar is the
happiest month of the Jewish year. It's the month of Purim, the month I got married, but it is also
the month Avraham David Moses was murdered and his mother’s life
changed forever.
I don’t want to forget that. I don’t think any of us should.
We need to remember a boy who was murdered because he was a Jew, and the
suffering of the family he left behind.
Avraham David with his little brothers, Noam and Chai. |
No special wisdom is necessary to notice that parents don’t simply “bounce back” after their children are murdered by terrorists, lo aleinu[1]. That much we can see with our eyes. We wish we could help them, but there is not all that much we can do. They are in it, and we are not.
And still, there are two things we can do:
1.
We can listen when grieving parents have
something to say, and respect the enormity of their experience.
2.
We can offer them opportunities to speak about
their children and say their names, so we’ll remember them, too.
It was with these two thoughts in mind that I asked Rivkah if she would consent to an interview to explore her feelings and to talk about her son, Avraham David, HY”D.[2]
She gracefully agreed.
Varda Epstein: Can you describe for those unfamiliar with the Mercaz HaRav Massacre what happened that day?
Rivkah Moriah, today. |
Rivkah Moriah: Avraham
David was in tenth grade at the Yeshiva laTzeirim (Yashlatz), the yeshiva
high school that is adjacent to and shares a campus with Yeshivat Mercaz HaRav.
It was Thursday night and the first night of Rosh Chodesh Adar[3]
and seder erev[4]
had been early, so that the boys could set up the beit midrash[5]
for singing and dancing to celebrate. Yashlatz celebrates every Rosh Chodesh, but the celebration of Rosh Chodesh Adar was known to be
particularly festive. Groups of boys from other high schools were gathering to
come join them.
While some boys were setting up the beit midrash, and others were involved with organizing
refreshments, some of the most studious boys went over to the library at Mercaz
HaRav to continue their learning.
It was a very warm evening, the first warm evening of the
spring, and there were also groups of people in the yeshiva courtyard, enjoying
the weather and unwinding after a long week in the study hall.
The attacker was seen carrying a large box into the courtyard from outside the compound. This box contained a Kalashnikov, approximately 900 rounds of ammunition, and two pistols. He opened fire in the courtyard, then entered the stairwell, where he shot a young man on his way to study. The attacker then went back out to the courtyard and entered the library, where he methodically shot those who were trapped and unable to escape.
The attacker was neutralized by an adult yeshiva student,
Yitzchak Dadon, and an officer from the IDF who was at home on leave in the
neighborhood, David Shapiro. It was all over in fifteen minutes, but not before
eight boys and young men were murdered, several more were critically injured,
and more were moderately injured while escaping. And those are just the
physical injuries.
Five of those killed were high school students. The names of
those who were killed are:
Neria Cohen 15
Segev Peniel Avichail 15
Yonatan Eldar 16
Avraham David Moses 16
Yochai Lifshitz 18
Yonadav Hirshfeld 18
Ro’ee Aharon Rot 18
Doron Maharate 26
Varda Epstein: What
was it like in the early days, after the shiva
was over? What was it like waking up in the morning and just getting
through the days? How long was it before you found a way forward?
Rivkah Moriah: There was heavy shock. I only understood how
much afterwards. It’s like when you’re traveling in heavy fog, and you can see
what's right in front of you, but nothing else. I didn’t even see how much I
couldn’t see. I was lucky to have a friend who used the phrase Person Bearing
Great Sadness, and she helped me understand that what I most needed help with
was getting the children out in the mornings. She came by every single morning
till the end of the school year and then for another school year. At first she
brought the sandwiches, and then she helped while I got the kids ready and made
sandwiches.
At first, if each of my kids got to their educational
framework for any part of a day, it was a good day. There were sandwiches for
school, and a lot of cereal for supper. For a year, what I could manage for
supper was what my friends brought or cereal. My success was that, during that
time, we never ran out of cereal or milk. After a while, I’m not sure when, I
started cooking pasta or ready-formed hamburger patties.
September 2010 – two and a half years later – I started
opening envelopes again. The bills and everything else that was urgent had been
taken care of by David, and a lot of other things just got put in a pile that
was 2 1/2 years deep. Because mail is dated, it was the clear and obvious
measure of when I came out of the fog.
Varda Epstein: What
about the family? How did the terror attack—the sudden, violent murder of your
son—affect his siblings?
The death of a sibling is highly traumatic. Not only did my
kids and step kids lose a brother, but their own vulnerability was also
heightened. I like to say that, when an individual family member has a crisis,
ideally the rest of the family would come together to support them. When there
is a family crisis, every single one of the family members’ functioning is
compromised. Some of what was hard for my kids was that Mom was having such a
hard time.
Varda Epstein: What
are the lingering effects of a terror attack and brutal loss of a son and
sibling? Do any of you suffer PTSD? Is there something that helps to mitigate
the symptoms?
Rivkah Moriah: A shattering loss like this has pervasive
influence. While PTSD has a formal definition that requires an official
diagnosis, I can definitely say that there was trauma, and there is
post-traumatic stress. There is also something called Traumatic Bereavement.
I have been lucky to have found a gifted therapist at the One Family Foundation. My children’s
trauma has also been mitigated by the wonderful children’s programs and summer
camps of the One Family Foundation and the Koby Mandell Foundation.
While, after fourteen years, there are many ways that we
have adjusted to losing Avraham David, it is still, in some ways, an unfolding
story.
I appreciate that the discussion of trauma is becoming
acceptable in Israeli society. While some people are graced with post-traumatic
growth, this is certainly not a given.
A trauma like surviving a school shooting can be
unintentionally dwarfed by death or the grief of first-degree relatives. This
concerns me. The students who were there and lived through it, and even those
who weren't on campus but whose school was breeched and whose friends were
murdered participated in comforting the families at the shiva and have continued to have done so at memorials over the
years. They no doubt had and still have their own issues to deal with.
I hope that the shift towards increasing resources for those
who have experienced trauma continues. It would be appropriate if we develop a
better understanding of the grief and trauma of people in this position, so
that they can be better supported, and not just be in a position where they are
expected to give support.
Varda Epstein: Why do
you think Avraham David was murdered while he was learning Torah? What is the
significance of that for his legacy? What does it feel like to be the mother of
a son who died Al Kidush Hashem[6]?
Rivkah Moriah: We may not realize it, but we need people who die Al Kiddush Hashem to strengthen our faith, for our faith is a kind of security. As he died his martyr’s death, Rabbi Akiva
lengthened the recitation of G-d's unity in the Shema[7].
Rebbe Tarfon spoke of letters he saw flying in the air.
Many stories have been told about Avraham David and the
other seven boys and young men who were killed in the massacre, and I think
it’s right to honor their memories and grow in our faith with the retelling.
According to tradition, it is considered a privilege to die Al Kiddush Hashem. I think there are
very profound and holy reasons for this idea, and it has really helped me.
Nevertheless, as Avraham David’s mother, and because of who
I am, I also think of the rakes that tore Rabbi Akiva’s flesh, the fire and
smoke that engulfed Rebbe Tarfon, and the fear and pain with which Avraham
David died.
Blood-stained prayer shawls at the scene of the Mercaz HaRav Massacre |
Varda Epstein: How
have you tried to keep the memory of Avraham David alive for your family and
for the world? Are you in touch with his fellow students or teachers? How does
the yeshiva memorialize the attack?
Rivkah Moriah: Avraham David is very much part of our world.
The nature of his presence and memory has changed over the years. For a while,
I had to protect some of the younger kids from hearing about it too much.
There are kids in the family who don’t have memories of
Avraham David. This needs to be navigated in a way that honors what has been
hard and painful in their lives and helps them know the story that is their own story, without overwriting it with one’s
own story.
Yashlatz has memorials that are suited to their students,
which are very comforting to me having lost someone of high school age.
Mercaz has memorials that are appropriate to their own students.
With very few exceptions, Rav Yerachmiel Weiss, the Rosh Yeshiva[8]
of Yashlatz at the time of the attack, has called every single erev shabbat and chag[9]
for fourteen years. There are a few classmates who have maintained a close
friendship with us, and many who participate in memorials.
Grave of Avraham David Moses, HY"D. Murdered at age 16. |
Varda Epstein: Talk
to us about the contradiction of murder on the eve of the happiest month of the
year, Adar. How do you handle that?
Do you work on finding joy at that time, or is that just too difficult? How
does the yeshiva handle a memorial like that on Rosh Chodesh Adar in a way that also honors the significance of
that month, and the emotions we are intended to feel?
Rivkah Moriah: I’m letting this one simmer for me. I grapple
with this every year, and I grapple with it in a more general way in an ongoing
way. I’m beginning to accept that maybe the injunction is different for me.
A person who mustn’t eat gluten is exempt from the specific mitzva[10]
of lechem mishneh[11]
on Shabbat. Rosh Chodesh Adar is the very saddest day of the year for me, so
there is a bit of a disjunct for me at this season. I am lucky to daven[12]
in a minyan[13]
that does not to sing Mishemishe[14]
… when bentching Adar[15],
purely for my sake. This kindness, and the kindness of others at this season,
is my nechamah[16],
which is akin to simchah[17].
Varda Epstein: What
do you think Avraham David would be doing today, had he lived to fulfill his
potential?
Avraham David Moses, HY"D |
Rivkah Moriah: If he had continued on the path he had begun,
he would have become a scholar. I have been told that his depth and breadth of
scholarship was extraordinary for a teenager. This was one of the great losses
to the Nation[18].
Avraham David wanted to marry young, and he had put great effort into refining
his character. I would have loved to have seen him as a husband and as a
father.
Varda Epstein: What can
we, the Jewish people, learn from Avraham David Moses, HY”D? What can we learn
from what happened to him?
Rivkah Moriah: Avraham David was very intensely Avraham David. While we can perhaps be inspired by him to pray or learn or perform mitzvot[19] with more intention, I think he can best inspire us to be more authentically who we ourselves are.
While I think many things could be learned from Avraham David’s death, and how he died, something I have learned is so subtle yet profound that I have to keep learning it over and over. This piece opens with why you want to write it. About the enormity of my loss. About opportunities to say Avraham David’s name. And that in a very real way, it is also your loss.
It is in this meeting-place, much more than a specific thing one could say, that nechama takes place.
Note to the reader: This was a difficult interview to conduct. I found myself afraid to ask the questions I wanted to ask. Afraid to pry. Afraid to cause further pain and hurt.
Perhaps it's because I know Rivkah personally, or perhaps because this time, the someone who lost someone is a mother, and the son she lost, died al Kiddush Hashem. For whatever reason, throughout the process of creating this interview, I felt like I was stepping into some kind of sacred realm and I wasn't sure I had the right to be there.
And it is an unspeakable crime that Avraham David is lost to her until the final redemption.
[1]
Prayerful phrase that roughly means: “May it not happen to us.”
[2]
Abbreviation for “Hashem Yinkom Damo.” When we speak of the dead, we normally
say Olav/Aleha hashalom” May s/he rest in peace. But for martyrs, we say “May
God avenge his blood.”
[3]
beginning of the lunar month of Adar
[4]
evening learning session
[5]
study hall
[6] A
death that sanctifies God’s name, for instance a boy murdered while studying
God’s holy Torah, as is the case with Avraham David.
[7]
The prayer that affirms belief in one God. The prayer is recited three times
daily and also when someone is dying.
[8]
Yeshiva head, a principal who is also a rabbi.
[9]
Erev Shabbat and Chag (Sabbath and holiday eve, in this case, the approach of
these holidays, before they actually begin.)
[10]
Commandment
[11]
We put out two loaves of bread to commemorate the double portion of manna we
received in the dessert on the Sabbath.
[12]
Pray (Yiddish)
[13]
Quorum for prayer, congregation
[14]
Traditional song for month of Adar. The Hebrew lyrics of the song mean: “Who
that ushers in the month of Adar, increases joy.”
[15] Praying
in the month of Adar
[16]
Comfort
[17]
Happiness
[18]
The Jewish people.
[19]
Commandments, plural of mitzvah.
Wednesday, October 20, 2021
- Wednesday, October 20, 2021
- Elder of Ziyon
- 1972 Terror, Abu Mazen, Fatah, glorifying terror, Mahmoud Abbas, palestine media watch, Palestinian culture, palwatch, resistance, Terrorism
Thursday, July 29, 2021
- Thursday, July 29, 2021
- Elder of Ziyon
- 2001 Terror, Ahlam Tamimi, hamas, Jerusalem, Jordan, King Abdullah, Malki Roth, martyrdom, Sbarro Pizza, suicide bombing, terror attack, Terrorism
It caused an unprecedented state of terror and chaos among the Jews.-....The operation is commensurate with the ability of the battalions to plan, develop and reach the depth of the enemy and in the most secure places, which astonished the enemy and made loved ones and family rejoice (and heal the hearts of a believing people)....The mujahadeen chose the prime time for lunch at the restaurant.
Afterwards, when I took the bus, the Palestinians around Damascus Gate [in Jerusalem] were all smiling. You could sense that everybody was happy. When I got on the bus, nobody knew that it was me who had led [the suicide bomber to the target]... I was feeling quite strange, because I had left [the bomber] 'Izz Al-Din behind, but inside the bus, they were all congratulating one another. They didn't even know one another, yet they were exchanging greetings...While I was sitting on the bus, the driver turned on the radio. But first, let me tell you about the gradual rise in the number of casualties. While I was on the bus and everybody was congratulating one another....I admit that I was a bit disappointed, because I had hoped for a larger toll. Yet when they said "three dead," I said: 'Allah be praised'...Two minutes later, they said on the radio that the number had increased to five. I wanted to hide my smile, but I just couldn't. Allah be praised, it was great. As the number of dead kept increasing, the passengers were applauding.
We saw Palestinians celebrate murdered Jews only this past May. This isn't a one time thing - consistently, a vast majority of Palestinians have shown support for specific terror attacks after the fact, including, infamously, the 9/11 attacks that occurred only a month after Sbarro.
Here is a celebration after the 2014 attack at the Har Nof synagogue, killing four rabbis.
Wednesday, April 21, 2021
- Wednesday, April 21, 2021
- Varda Meyers Epstein (Judean Rose)
- book review, Judean Rose, Terrorism, Varda
Reaching for
Comfort: What I Saw, What I Learned, & How I Blew it Training as a Pastoral
Counselor, is the third of three books by Sherri Mandell on dealing
with the loss of her son Koby Mandell, to terror. But know that Mandell is a
writer by profession, and not by circumstance. She writes because that’s her
gift: it’s what she does. The fact that she can not only write but has a
heartbreaking story to tell, makes it all the more poignant to read her
story, and hear her “voice.”
It’s difficult—even gut-wrenching—to read these works, but some
would say, necessary. This is a human rights issue. Jews, like all other people, should
have the right to live productive lives in peace, in particular in their
indigenous territory. Jewish children, like all other children, should have the
right to grow up unmolested by terror, no matter where they live.
In this new book, in which Mandell speaks of her experiences
training as a pastoral counselor, we hear the voice of a mother who longs for
comfort, who is seeking something to give her relief or at least a small
respite from the feelings she goes to bed with at night, and wakes up to every
morning. It is obvious to all who witness this sort of pain, even from the
outside looking in: the pain of losing a child to terror never, ever leaves
you. This book helps us see what this might be like, God forbid, even if only
to the smallest degree (may we never need to understand it fully).
Mandell takes us along as she begins to visit hospitalized patients as part of her training. This takes place at a time when pastoral counseling is new to the scene of Israeli patient care. Many of the patients fail to understand the purpose of her visits and are reluctant to avail themselves of what she attempts to offer them. One understands that Mandell thought she'd be good at pastoral counseling by dint of her experiences as the mother of a terror victim. Her efforts at comforting patients and their families, on the other hand, tend not to have the desired effect.
Interspersed with Mandell's visits to patients (whom she describes as "fictional composites, drawn broadly from real stories") are her training sessions and meetings with Michael, her mentor and co-teacher of the pastoral counseling course. Michael leads the group through prayers and exercises, during which Mandell always seems to fall short in comparison with her classmates. Mandell's self-described inadequacies as a pastoral counselor are as puzzling to the reader as they are to Mandell. Her descriptions of her visits to patients, meanwhile, are compelling, and we know something they do not: that she is Sherri Mandell, mother of Koby Mandell, who was murdered in a brutal attack when he was only 13.
An Added Dimension
For this writer, there is an added dimension to this story of an effort to comfort others in the midst of grief. Having lived in Gush Etzion for a long time,
through both intifadas, I remember when Koby Mandell and Yosef Ishran
were murdered. There was a media blackout at first, but we understood that children had been murdered in Tekoa, a settlement in our
area. And of course, the Gush was a much smaller community in those days than
it is now, and everyone knew everyone in the Gush.
We wanted to know what had happened, so we began making calls to people we knew in Tekoa. We
wanted to be there for the parents, to mourn alongside them. We wanted to learn
from what happened in order to understand what measures we needed to take in our attempts to protect our own children
going forward. It took only two phone calls to learn the identity of the two
boys who had been murdered, and the terrible details of the attack. It was, in
fact, a child who told me—the child of a friend—what had happened and to whom.
It was Sherri and Seth Mandell’s story. It was Koby’s story,
and it was Yosef’s story. And yet, in a sense, it was everyone’s story, in that it
affected us all, as residents of the Gush, as Jews. The knowledge of what happened
turned me into a hyper-vigilant mother. I told the daycare workers that under
no circumstances were they allowed to let my children walk home alone, though
it was a very short walk from the daycare center to our caravan. And yet, years
later, reading Sherri Mandell’s books, you realize it’s not your story, but her
story, and hers alone to tell.
Our responsibility, it seems, is to read every word of her elegant prose.
Koby Mandell (H"YD) with his parents Seth and Sherri, at his bar mitzvah, the last birthday he lived to see. |
I spoke with Sherri to learn more about her new book:
Varda Epstein: Your
first book, “The Blessings of a Broken Heart,” was the story of what happened
to your son and the blessings you recognized in the face of tragedy. Your
second book, “The Road to Resilience: From Chaos to Celebration” was about how
to find a way forward after tragedy. This third book you’ve “birthed” is more
difficult to define. How would you summarize “Reaching for Comfort?”
Sherri Mandell: “Reaching for Comfort” is the story of a
year training to be a pastoral counselor, being taught how to be present in
the face of suffering.
Varda Epstein: When
did you first hear about the pastoral counseling course? What did you imagine
you would get out of your training?
Sherri Mandell: A friend told me about the course. I thought
that I would learn to be comfortable with prayer and become a more serene,
centered person. I thought that I would also confront death and illness and see
how people coped. I think my main goal was to find a lamed vavnik [one of the 36 righteous people in every generation
who wander among us in secret. V.E.] who would tell me the secret of suffering.
Of course, I also wanted to be able to have the therapeutic skills to lead the
foundation where we worked with so many bereaved children and families.
Varda Epstein: Your
book is about pastoral counseling for those with serious or terminal illness
and their families. You’ve lost family in the natural way, to age and illness,
and you’ve lost a child to terror. How are these experiences different and how
are they the same?
Sherri Mandell: Loss is a common denominator for all people,
because everybody dies. But there is a difference when somebody is murdered by
terrorists, because the family is left with a need to seek justice. Also trauma
leaves scars that the loss of a parent in old age does not.
Koby at his bar mitzvah with his father, Rabbi Seth Mandell |
Varda Epstein: What
would you like people to understand about what it is like to lose a child to
terror?
Sherri Mandell: That the pain never goes away.
Varda Epstein: In
“Reaching for Comfort” you offer a vivid description of your grief as a sort of
underworld: “Even though you have the ability to exit the underworld, you are
not sure you want to. In fact, you no longer no which world you belong in or
which world you prefer. The ordinary world is no longer hospitable in some
ways: it’s too light, too trivial. The underworld has the gravity, the shock,
the darkness, the weight of being you crave.”
Do you think your
children feel the same way? Have you tried to keep them out of this
“underworld?” Tried to give them normalcy? How do you find the balance between
giving them a normal childhood, and letting them grieve?
Sherri Mandell: I think that all children who experience
tragedy touch the underworld and are changed by the experience.
Koby, laughing with his younger siblings, long before the brutal murder that robbed them of their big brother. |
Varda Epstein: Arnold
Roth, father of Malki Roth, murdered in the Sbarro massacre, related that
people crossed the street to avoid him and his wife after the tragedy. Did you
experience anything like this? Do you sometimes feel like you’re wearing a
sign?
Sherri Mandell: No, I did not feel that at all. I think
because I live in a Yishuv
[settlement, V.E.], everybody was involved and everybody cared. I had a feeling
of being cocooned by my neighbors and also supported.
Varda Epstein: The
website for Koby Mandell Foundation
speaks of healing and rebuilding. Is it really possible to heal and rebuild
after losing a family member to a terror attack? How would you define healing
and rebuilding in this context?
Sherri Mandell: One must rebuild after a tragedy. I realized
that when you undergo a tragedy it’s like your vessel is broken. The way you
looked at the world, the way you thought, the things you did. They’re no longer
sufficient to keep you afloat. You need to build a new vessel somehow, you need
to recreate yourself in the light of what you have suffered.
Like most boys born in the U.S., Koby loved baseball. |
Varda Epstein:
Pastoral counseling may not have been the right path for you, but what is the
right path for us to take in order to comfort the family members of terror
victims? Is there anything we can say or do that can help?
Sherri Mandell: Pastoral counseling was the right path for me
at the time. I think that anytime anyone remembers Koby, it is a good feeling.
I think that others can try to be there at important times like the azkara [annual memorial service, V.E.],
for example. Or just leave a message that you’re thinking about the person and
you remember and you care. The best is when somebody does something to
memorialize Koby.
Varda Epstein: What
will you write about next?
Sherri Mandell: Good question. I’m working on a novel!
***
Sherri Mandell won the 2004 National Jewish Book Award for The Blessings of a Broken Heart. Her newest book, Reaching for Comfort, is available at the Ben Yehuda Press and on Amazon.
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
- Wednesday, December 12, 2018
- Varda Meyers Epstein (Judean Rose)
- antisemitism, Judean Rose, Opinion, Terrorism, UN, Varda
“There is no choice but to return to the background behind the publication of this promise by then British Foreign Secretary Arthur Balfour. We will return to the situation of the Jews in Europe and Russia, when they lived in a closed society and knew only to make money, trade, weave plots, corruption, and such. Even the European nations and Russia were sick of them and longed for when they would leave their country."
(Quran) “’Proceed throughout the earth and observe how was the end of those who denied’ ... The occupation government hasn't learned from history, from the corruption of the Children of Israel the first and second time.
"We won't abandon the way of Jihad and Shahada [Martyrdom] as long as one inch of our holy land is in the hands of the Jews. A day will come when our flag will fly above all of the regions of our land. Our flag will fly on the minarets of Jerusalem, and the walls of Acre, and the quarters of Haifa."
"[Khan Al-Ahmar is] holy land. We know its value, and not them [Jews], the foreigners, the fabricators of history, who dance and live on the body parts of others, and on the blood of others. Read their history: There is no global corruption that they are not behind. There is no global corruption that their rabbis did not allow... People could be deluded or think... that we have no way out with the Jews... The liberation of this land is a matter of faith, which will happen despite everyone. The Jews leaving this land is a divine decree... The war is not only over this strip of land, as you all know the Jews want everything and not just a part [of it]. They want to subjugate us, and that we be slaves to their command... There have always been two camps in history: the camp of truth and the camp of falsehood. The people of falsehood see themselves as those who rule over everything... Among the Jews we find nothing but corruption and depravity."
“Humanity will never live in comfort as long as the Jews are causing devastating corruption throughout the land. Humanity will never live in peace or fortune or tranquility as long as they are corrupting the land. An old man told me: If a fish in the sea fights with another fish, I am sure the Jews are behind it. As Allah says: ‘Every time they kindled the fire of war [against you], Allah extinguished it. They strive throughout the land [causing] corruption, and Allah does not like corrupters.’” (Sura 5:64)
He said "Close in on the Jews." Not "settlers," "Zionists," or "Occupiers." Not even "Israelis," but "Jews."
What are Arab children taught? On November 29, a young girl recited a poem at the Gaza Conference for the International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People that referred to the Jews as wild apes, miserable pigs, and evil creatures destined for humiliation. She said that Jews are like herds of stupid cattle, and that Jerusalem "spits out [their] filth" because it is a pure virgin.
I did not have to scour the internet to find these examples. They are numerous. Antisemitism is not just the domain of a few oddballs or iconoclasts. Jew-hatred pervades the culture of the Arab terrorist who shot Shira Ish Ran in the abdomen, an act that led to the death of an infant she never got to hold.
To the terrorist who shot her, Shira was not a hands-off target, someone vulnerable, carrying life in her womb. She was less than human. A pest to be sprayed dead, along with the baby in her womb.
To think of her as a pregnant woman, like any other pregnant woman, or her baby like any other baby would have betrayed weakness, a fault in his basic foundational beliefs, a softness that must never be given quarter if the ultimate goal were to be achieved.
After all, that baby would have grown up to be a soldier. Had he lived. That made him fair game. Right? Just another occupier, a thief, an oppressor in waiting.
Of course, the 72 dark-eyed virgins are a nice compensation.
If only Bowers had been Muslim.
A pity.