Israel at 74

Israel at 74

Reflections by Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

For all its vibrance and newness, Israel is also an old country. Not only because of the long history embedded in its soil and stones, but also because the energy that Israelis bring into it on a daily basis is strenuous and draining. In the 74 years since declaring its independence, the modern State of Israel has learned to settle into old routines, to face overcrowded roads and no parking spaces; to wait in lines that are more of a chaotic scramble for air and space than a test of patience and resolve; to listen to calls to violence and rambling speeches spewing hate; and to be vigilant at every moment.

Oddly, what highlighted this “oldness” for me on my recent visit was a dust storm event, a three-day haboub driven by eastern winds from the Arabian desert.

A haboub is not an infrequent guest in the region. You wake up to an eerie yellow light instead of the usual bright daylight. That’s the color of desert sand. You know—or should know—better than exercise outdoors in these conditions. The dust gets into your eyes, your ears, and settles in your lungs. And yet joggers and fast walkers seem undaunted as they push themselves even harder to stay in shape.

After a day or two of the air and sky being filled with dust, the sand begins to settle. If it happens to be raining too, then it rains straight-out mud. Otherwise, cars, trees and sidewalks are soon covered by a veneer of dust that makes everything look old and tired.

It’s a deep contrast from the usual momentum one encounters in Israel, where energy seems boundless, where people at work and on the road seem driven by a combination of desperation, adrenaline and irrepressible joy of life.

Maybe it’s also part of the malaise that COVID has brought to the world. As one variant replaces another, people seem to have gotten tired of fighting it. If infected, you stay isolated for a few days, then bounce right back. Sometimes more than once. People have gotten used to the routine.

Israelis are tired of hypocritical world politics, where “civilized” nations such as Russia, China and Cuba—members of the enlightened club known as the United Nations Human Rights Council—lead a chorus of criticism against one of the most liberal and democratic countries in the world; where “woke” cultural “heroes” –pop musicians, fashion models and vapid movie stars—wag tongues and fingers at Israel while totally ignoring genocide and human rights violations anywhere else.

Israeli politicians have also settled into an old routine—undermining one another, whether members of their own party and coalition, or part of the opposition. Private allowances and public expenditures are examined through a magnifying glass in search of anything that might topple the government and bring about yet another rotation of ineffectual power.

Israelis are worn out by acts of terror perpetrated by desperate individuals egged on by illegal regimes that know they can’t achieve their dreams of destroying Israel and are satisfied by merely disrupting ordinary life. While Israelis converge in giving comfort to the injured and the grieving, in Gaza and in West Bank “refugee” camps candy is distributed in celebration of the latest drive-by shooting or stabbing.

Israelis are worn out by Israel’s inability—or lack of desire—to stem this violence at its roots: in mosques where preachers incite their followers to violence in weekly Friday sermons; in stately mansions where billionaire leaders of terrorist organizations teach the masses that Israel is the real culprit and cause of their poverty and misery; in corridors of international power where tyrants issue fatwas, daily calls for the destruction of the State of Israel.

And yet, underneath the thin veneer of exhaustion among Israeli citizens, there runs a deep river of humanity and compassion. The economy is booming and the malls are filled with shoppers. City parks and playgrounds are filled with children running and playing with the kind of joy and exuberance that are the unmistakable product of love and pride. The sense that “we can overcome any hurdle” is everywhere.

When I left Israel, Yom Ha-Shoah, the Day of Commemoration of the Holocaust, was just beginning. The deep pain that resides within the Jewish soul refuses to be buried and forgotten. The memories remain alive. Perhaps because of the number of refugees from the Russia-Ukraine War that Israel has taken in, many of whom are themselves Holocaust survivors.  Perhaps it’s the two-minute siren that arouses them, piercing the heart and reminding us why Israel is there: to make sure a Holocaust does not happen again, that Jews are not defenseless anymore. That Israel, and the Israel Defense Force, will be there for them—for us—wherever and whenever we need it.

This is a sad period for Israelis, yet another reason for the malaise many are feeling right now. On Wednesday Israel will celebrate its 74th Independence Day, but immediately preceding this joyous event is Memorial Day, a day set aside to remember those who fell in battle in defense of the State of Israel, as well as those who died as a result of terrorism. Soldiers and citizens, men, women and children—they all fought for the right of Jews—as all human beings—to define themselves, to live freely, to defend themselves. Israel pays a heavy price for these freedoms, and Israelis do not forget it for one minute. 

Despite the political, cultural and economic divisions that run through Israel’s population, there is a strong and persistent sense of family. Families may disagree and sometimes even quarrel. But at the end of the day, they are there for one another. Maybe that’s one reason for the strength and confidence one senses in Israel. There are times when Israelis would love to just lay down their weapons, to let tired muscles relax, to let the pain dissipate some. But then the dust clears and our purpose becomes clear again. We move forward, proving to the world—and to ourselves—that Am Yisrael Chai, the People of Israel lives. That’s the mission and goal that Israel has set for itself. That is the true force behind its still-beating heart.

Happy Independence Day, Israel. As you reach toward the three-quarter century mark, may you continue to thrive and be a light and beacon to all nations and people of this earth. 

© 2022 by Boaz D. Heilman