Dear friends and family in The Golden Medina

(Originally published in The Times of Israel)

A seder enveloped by sirens and a heart rendering funeral motivated me to write to friends and family in the United States, some of whom have been in touch as well as the many who have not.

Family and friends:

This Passover, and last night’s seder in particular, is especially poignant and, in some ways, quite strange.  We know that many in the U.S. are opposed to the war or, if not that, are conflicted about it.  We know that includes many American Jews, including those that care about Israel.

We understand that position from an American perspective: the economy, being seen (wrongly, in our view) as the aggressor, the cost, the price of a gallon of gas, dislike of President Trump, lack of clear messaging, apparent lack of a well thought-out strategy, etc.

(We are also cognizant of the shock and the feelings of vulnerability and isolation that many American Jews feel due to the startling increase in Jew-hatred in America and around the world.)

Most Israelis, including us, see it from a different perspective. We see an axis that bombarded our north and south with missiles for over two decades, that viciously attacked us on Oct. 7, 2023, that continues to bombard us to this day, that repeatedly declares its intention to destroy us, that dedicates itself to developing the weapons to do so, and that appeared to becoming very close to being in a position to do so.

Regardless of possible differences in perspective, we REALLY APPECIATE the messages of concern and support we have received.  At a time when we are running for cover, when our lives and movement are restricted and fraught with danger, when we are sustaining injuries and deaths, when our young people are making the ultimate sacrifice, when our neighbors with young children are under incredible strain, when we are feeling very isolated and alone, your messages have been a lifeline, a reminder that people care, that we are not alone.

We’re hanging in there.  It does take its toll.  Everyone is weary. It seems that in Jerusalem the frequency of attacks has decreased a bit the last 48 hours. But we’ve had periods like that before.  The north is getting hit hard by Hezbollah.  And they get no warning—they have to get to a shelter in 15 seconds.

The center of the country and Tel Aviv are still getting hit hard by Iran.  Our daughter in Tel Aviv  had them at 9 and 9:30 Monday night and then, starting about 7:45 yesterday morning, had about four in the course of two hours.  Many were wondering how they would cook for the seder while running to shelters.

The shelter, the siren, and the check please

(Originally published in The Times of Israel)

Three weeks into the war and I'd say we are tired, weary, worried, united, committed, sometimes uplifted, and resolute.  We have a routine of sorts.  We've adapted.

Me: Want to go to dinner? Restaurant A or Restaurant B?

Wife: B. It's less expensive and less formal.  I'd rather be interrupted and run for shelter from there.

Waitress:  Can I have your phone number?

Us:  Sure. Why?

Waitress:  In case of a Tzeva Adom (red alert).  Some customers "forget" to come back and pay after spending time in the shelter.

I've been reading an 880 page book, the biography of William F. Buckley, Jr., a seminal figure in America's modern conservative movement.  I've gotten through 550 pages. Three-fourths of my reading has been done in 15 minute timeframes while sitting in the shelter up the block from our apartment.  Neighbors have asked about this big, heavy book I lug up to the shelter night and day. Now there is interest in what will be finished first: the book or the war.

One of the neighbors we have gotten to know in the shelter, an upbeat woman with a Ph.D. in a science, likes to take long showers, a risky endeavor these days.  She's figured out that, based on the history, the most unlikely time for missiles being aimed at us is 4:00 a.m.  So she got up at 4:00 a.m. to take a long shower.  A smart, or a mad, scientist.

Everyone has his or her own way of adapting to the situation. Everyone has their own tolerance for risk, for what makes them uncomfortable, and for what doesn't.  It is not all logical.

We take walks in the neighborthood.  We are always cognizant of where the nearest public shelter is, what apartment building might have a shelter we could use, how long it would take to run to a shelter.

It helps to use an app that plots out the nearest public shelter and how far away it is.  I have it on my phone.  It is red and has a person sitting under a roof with three missiles pointing down at it.  It is called "Bomb Shelter."  Very subtle.

Red alerts and clown noses: Purim under fire

 (Originally published in The Times of Israel)

It has been quite a Shushan Purim in Jerusalem.

We were awaken to a tzeva adom (a red alert) at around 6:00 a.m.  Nothing like running half asleep to the shelter down the street to get a morning off to a quick start.  No coffee needed.  After visiting with our neighbors in the shelter–we've gotten to know some very nice people the last few days–the all-clear sounded and we headed home.

One of the most difficult challenges of this war has been deciding when it is safe to jump in the shower.  After there has been quiet for a while?  Right after an all-clear, the thinking being it will take them a while to launch the next round?  Who knows?  In any event, I got a quick one in.

The rest of the morning was quiet.  Or, I should say, free of missiles.  I could hear the sounds of Purim from the streets.  Singing, kids laughing,  glasses clinking.  In the early afternoon I decided it was safe enough to take a walk in the neighborhood to soak up the atmosphere.  Lots of kids and adults in costume.  A festive atmosphere despite the tension and worry in the air.

Then, an alert sounded.  I floundered for a moment, until a man with a big red clown's nose on his face and clown's shoes on his feet told me to follow him to the nearest shelter.  Only in Jerusalem on Shushan Purim would I put my life in the hands of a guy with a clown's nose and shoes.  But it worked.  I spent about 10 minutes in the shelter with my new clown friend, lots of cute Queen Esthers, 10 year-old breakdancers, and soccer players, among others.

The all-clear sounded and I started what I thought was a leisurely stroll back to our apartment.  Another alert went off.  I was too far from the shelter I had left but not close enough to the one on our street.  So I again followed the crowd and found myself with another group of Purim celebrators.  This time there was an assortment of dogs with them.

Another all-clear and I got home.  Thinking the action was over for the day, I was relaxing or, I should say, doing the best imitation of relaxing that one can do in these circumstances, when at around 4:15 this afternoon, another alert went off.  If we are reducing Iran's ability to fire missiles, we have not experienced it today.  Could they be throwing some last Hail Mary's?  Should I be bringing Mary into this?  Aren't things complicated enough?

It is not lost on Israelis that we are taking on an evil Persian regime, and that we killed an evil Persion leader, while we mark a holiday that celebrates the demise of Haman, an evil Persian Prime Minister who wanted to exterminate the Jews and who was stopped by the heroic action of the Jewish Queen Esther.

It also is not lost on Israelis and many Iranians that the Persian King Cyrus ended the Babylonian captivity in 539-538 BCE by issuing a decree allowing the Jews to return to Jerusalem, financed the rebuilding of the Second Temple, and permitted religious freedom, and that, if things go well, the Jewish nation, in partnership with the U.S., might return the favor 3100 years later.  What goes around sometimes does come around, we hope.

Friends and acquaintances abroad understandably have many questions and concerns regarding the war or, as some American politicians prefer to label it, operation or action.  Secret: It is a war.

Mamdani and those little town blues

(Originally published in The Times of Israel)

 “I stand by Italian-Americans.  I stand against anti-Italian-American statements and actions.  Italian-Americans will serve in my Administration.  I support the elimination of Italy.”

“I stand by Mexican-Americans.  I stand against anti-Mexican-American statements and actions. Mexican Americans will serve in my Administration. I am for the destruction of Mexico.”

“I stand by Nigerians.  I stand against anti-Nigerian-American statements and actions.  Nigerian-Americans will serve in my Administration.  I don’t think Nigerians have a right to their homeland.”

Pretty ludicrous statements.  They make no sense.  But this is exactly what the Mayor-elect of New York City,  Zohran Mamdani, says when it comes to Jewish Americans and their homeland.

“But,” many will say in his defense, “Zionism is not the same as Judaism.  You can be against Zionism and not be against Jews.”

Right on the first sentence.  Wrong on the second sentence.  For all but some outliers on the periphery, Zionism, the belief in  the existence of a Jewish nation in the Jews ancestral homeland, is an integral part of their Jewish identity.

When your position is that you are against the existence of the only Jewish-majority nation in the world; when you are for the destruction of the home of half of the 15 million Jews in the world; when you support denying Jews self-determination in the land in which they are an indigenous people; when you oppose the Jewish National Liberation Movement, it is impossible to “stand with the Jews,” to “stand against anti-Jewish American statements and actions.”

When you take that position, you are anti-Jew.  You are a Jew-hater.

War and peace

 (Originally published in The Times of Israel)

I spent the morning with hundreds of others at the hostage tent on Aza Street near the Prime Minister’s house watching on a large screen as the live hostages were released. It was two and a half hours of anxiousness, relief, and elation. I then sat at a coffee house patio where everyone was in a celebratory mood. Right next to it is a storefront synagogue from which you could hear the sounds of prayers and songs of Hoshana Rabbah, the seventh and last day of Sukkot.

Adding to the poignancy of the moment, tonight is Erev Simchat Torah.  It was on Simchat Torah two years ago that Hamas invaded, raped, tortured, and kidnapped innocent civilians in what their delusional leaders and supporters thought would be the beginning of the destruction of Israel and the genocide of its inhabitants.

Next: the return of the bodies of 28 innocent hostages murdered in captivity. This will be very tough emotionally on the entire country, made even more so by the fact that  Hamas has already violated parts of the deal regarding this process. After that should be the disarming of Hamas, who are already reasserting their control in areas where Israel withdrew.

They are  brutally murdering anyone they label “collaborators” and anyone else they perceive as a potential threat to their rule.  Hamas is intentionally sending a message to Gazans: we’re still the power. Defy us and you and your family are dead.

If Hamas is not disarmed and completely taken out of the picture as envisioned by President Trump’s plan, and if the Palestinians do not give up the dream of destroying Israel, all of the flowery words about hope and a different future will be for naught. We will see more violence directed against Israel and, consequently, more misery and suffering for the Palestinians.

Today we celebrate. But there remains many difficult challenges ahead.

While diplomacy played a key role in getting the hostages released and the 20-step process endorsed by several key Arab nations, it is clear that we would not have reached this point without firm military action taken by Israel, often condemned by much of the world.

The key: the bombing of a building in Doha, Qatar, targeting Hamas leadership. While it failed to take out the leadership, it sent a clear message to the Arab world:  You are vulnerable, and we will target you if you harbor terrorists.

The deal and its prospects

(Originally published in The Times of Israel)

My reaction to the Trump-Witkoff-Blair-Kushner Gaza peace plan:  A huge feeling of relief and hope that our hostages may be released and the war may come to an end.  And an equally huge feeling of skepticism that it will actually happen.

The plan finally gives some hope for a better future after almost two years of anxiety, depression, and hopelessness.  At the end of a very long and windy road, it holds out a possibility of Gazans and ultimately Palestinians in general living in peace with Israel.  But it is fraught with possible pitfalls, both immediate and longer term.

Just a few of the major challenges:

--Hamas must release the hostages within 72 hours and must agree to disarm.  The hostages are their lifeline and bearing and using arms to kill Jews and to destroy Israel is their only purpose in life.  It is hard to see them abandoning that.

--Deradicalization of Gaza, which necessarily includes the giving up of deep-seeded and ingrained grievance, recognition of Israel's permanent position as a Jewish nation in the Middle East, and the abandonment of the dream of a Palestinian state "from the river to the sea and of a "return" to a place most, if any, have never been.

This is a major, if not the defining, part of the Palestinian identity.  To give it up is a very tall order.  Many students of the Middle East and of Palestinian society would say it is near impossible.

--Netanyahu's politics:  After decades in public life and 18 years as prime minister (continuous since 2009 except for 18 months), is there anyone who knows exactly what Netanyahu's bottom-line position is on Israel and the Palestinians?  What we do know is that he will say and do just about anything to stay in power and out of prison.

Ironically, Netanyahu's desperation may now be helpful in getting him to stick to his end of the bargain.  His future political survival is now so dependent on President Trump he could be forced to adhere to Trump's plan even at the risk of alienating the extremists in his coalition.

Blame and responsibility and what to do

 (Originally published in The Times of Israel)

It seems appropriate to be writing this on Tisha B’Av.  We are not at a point equivalent to the destruction of temples, but the problems facing Israel are formidable, and the mood here is depressed. 

Our government is incompetent at best. We are fighting a war nobody except the extremes is certain about.  We are in conflict, and many of us are internally conflicted:  we want a deal to get the hostages out, to stop the killing of our soldiers, and to stop the suffering in Gaza.  But we know that if Hamas is left intact in almost any form, it will be considered a victory for them and eventually we will very likely be subjected to missiles and terrorism again. 

We have some loudmouth politicians who, while not having any sway over policy, make some of the most condemnable, outrageous statements.  We have a Prime Minister whose primary if not exclusive objective is to stay in office and out of jail.  

He has given real power to some irresponsible, extremist ministers, and has acquiesced as they drive us toward destructive policies that undermine our standing in the world and threaten the democratic nature of the country.  

As David Horovitz recently wrote, our government’s actions and inactions have ended up with Israel holding the bag for the current situation in Gaza, whether justified or not. The extremists driving many of these policies would have us encourage the “voluntary” exodus of Gazans and permanently occupy Gaza, an outcome that would repulse the world and that the great majority of Israelis oppose.  

The world seems to have forgotten who started the war and that it would end immediately if Hamas were to release the hostages and lay down its arms. A recent survey shows that half of the American population does not even know that there are still hostages being held.  

The world is dumping on us, sometimes with justification, often with little or none.  Many of our “friends and allies” have turned on us, some reluctantly, many others with apparent glee and enthusiasm.  It is like they were just waiting for an excuse to pile on, regardless of whether the excuse is based in fact or not.

The world, including our “friends and allies,” seemed very quick to accept the fact that there is a famine in Gaza.  After all, many had predicted it almost since October 7.  And they seemed equally quick to blame it on Israel.  Some of Israel’s policies, and some of its loud-mouth politicians, gave them enough reason to lay the blame on us.