Then too, we could say that the
attacks on Tel Aviv didn’t actually kill anyone. But there is damage,
nonetheless. There always is. And it is collective, and cumulative. And we surely could use the support of the Jews of Pittsburgh, every bit as much as
the Muslims of New Zealand.
The thing is, the Tel Aviv attacks were a big
deal here in Israel. It is rare for the city to be under attack. Also, Tel Aviv
is the big city. It has a liberal zeitgeist. Tel Avivians see themselves as an
island of normalcy. They see themselves as living on uncontested land. They
aren’t settlers occupying someone else’s land, so they don’t expect, or as they
might put it, deserve to be targeted.
My son and his wife and
children, on the other hand, live under fire in the town of Netivot, which is
located in the “peripheria” as
Southern Israel is known to Israelis. The people of the periphery are poorer.
They receive fewer services. They are, in some respects, perceived as second
class citizens even to their own people: the rest of the people of Israel.
The periphery has seen many more
attacks than Tel Aviv. But when Tel Aviv is hit, it makes the headlines.
My daughter in-law wrote a poignant
and sympathetic post in the aftermath the attacks on Tel Aviv. She wrote her
post from the perspective of someone who lives in the periphery.
A translation:
Tonight's incidents made me
understand that my friends from outside our area aren't always able to understand
our lives. Therefore, with much support and a hug (whom other than us, knows
how stressful an alarm in the middle of the flow in your life?), here are a few
anecdotes from my life in the Gaza Envelope.
Life here... It's a bit more than
just alarms.
It’s hearing explosions all night, trying to figure out their
source. At a certain point you can tell which ones are from Israel, and which are
from Hamas. If you're a real expert you can differentiate between tank and fighter
jet.
It's going to sleep and not knowing
what the coming day will bring.
It's planning a house in which you
leave the shelter unfurnished, so that the whole family can cram in.
It's canceling work days because
the Home Front Command decided so, and nobody has to compensate you.
It's business owners who can't get businesses
up and running, as even when times are quiet, one missile comes and destroys the
work of many months.
It's students who won't be going to
school tomorrow, because the alarm in Tel Aviv made them anxious or afraid.
It's a poor little girl, a student
who was injured by a Qassam rocket that fell on her house without any advance warning alarm,
and you want to support or demand and can never find the balance.
It's knowing at all times where
there's a shelter, including at the market, the playground, and in a car on the
road. It's even choosing to drive close to shelters rather than taking a
faster route.
This is what I pray with all my
heart will stop, and I hope it doesn't spread towards the center of Israel and
further. I wish for quiet for everyone
These attacks on ordinary people, whether in
Netivot or Tel Aviv, Pittsburgh or Christ Church, stem from hatred. They come
from xenophobia, from an inability to accept the other. This hatred has an
effect far beyond the bloodshed. These insistent expressions of hatred makes
life painful and difficult.
Yes. It is the choice of Tel
Avivians to live in Tel Aviv, the choice of the people of Netivot to live in
Netivot, just as it is the choice of Pittsburgh Jews to be in Pittsburgh and
Christ Church Muslims to be in Christ Church. In a society free of hate, people
can coexist, and share spaces. Jews and Muslims, in a society free of hate, can
live side by side, no matter who sits at the helm.
But hatred makes living side by
side impossible.
This is our situation in
Israel. We are the hated ones. We are hated by the PA, by Hamas, by Islamic
Jihad, and those under their sway. The world supports this hate--in Europe, at
the UN, in the media-- and tells us we have no right to exist.
The world doesn’t distinguish
between Netivot and Tel Aviv. It hates us just the same. We are hated by people
from within and from without and they attack us on a daily basis whether with
rockets or on websites. No part of the country is immune from the terror and
the criticism, though some, for instance in Tel Aviv, live under the illusion
that they are different, until the rockets hit.
But here’s the thing, as a
country under constant attack by murderous antisemites, we deserve, from the
wider Jewish community, greater knowledge of our situation and support,
too.
We deserve your interest in our
plight. At least as much interest as you extend to the plight of the Muslims in
New Zealand.
We deserve a more nuanced and intensive look
at what is happening to us. We deserve an effort to educate yourselves beyond
what the media is willing to show you. And more sympathy than the media is
willing to show us.
We deserve a modicum of recognition
that the constant rockets, missiles, car rammings, petrol bombs, kidnappings,
and stonings are born of antisemitism. Hatred is hatred, no matter where or how
it rears its ugly head, and no matter how it is covered in the media. And we
expect you to know that and to reach out and be a comfort to us in our
travails.
Just as you comforted New
Zealand.
h/t Yitzchak Epstein for translation help.
Friday, March 22, 2019
Elder of Ziyon
