Two Reactions to the Terror

Musings #75, two short articles
October 8, 2004
The 23th of Tishrei

Don’t Blame the Victims!

Again, terror, again murder, again Arab terrorists and again Arab murderers. And what did I just hear on the radio? Those Israelis shouldn’t have gone to Egypt, and that wasn’t from people in my neighborhood, or the owners of the hotel in Ariel, or the Jewish residents of Chevron who hosted tens of thousands safely during Succot. It was from the Israeli media interviewing Israeli politicians.

“Since for the past few months there were warnings of possible terror attacks in the Sinai or Taba, the victims are the guilty ones. They should have listened, they should have made those vacation plans. They purposely put themselves in danger.” Yes, that’s right. That’s what those brilliant minds are saying on the radio.

Others are saying that those in the bombed hotel didn’t keep the mitzvot, and if they had been Torah observant Jews, they wouldn’t have been attacked. That implies that G-d killed, maimed and traumatized them, and that isn’t true either.

G-d does not kill, maim and traumatze people in this world. Human beings murder, maim and terrorize; yes, terrrorists are human beings, but they are not humane. There are cruel, sadistic people in this world. The Arab terrorists who planned and carried out the terror attacks are cruel, sadistic people.

The victims are all innocent victims. Their choice of vacation site is not the cause of their death or injuries. We will not stop terrorism until we go after the terrorists with all our strength and might. Our priority must be our own security, not anything else. Don’t let a false, perverse morality dominate. Don’t listen for approval from any other nation.

Only once we focus on our own needs and security we will be truly safe.

My sincere condolences to all of those wounded and mourning.

Raped by the Israeli Media

Terrorism is barbaric. Yes, I think that we all know that, but the cover picture in Yidiot Achronot today was just as bad, an obcenity abusing an injured victim by printing a picture, that can best be described as pornography, of the sado-masochistic variety. The sort of picture that decent people don’t have in their homes, and desperate people get paid to pose for.

Why and how were photographers allowed to wander freely among the injured taking such intimate photos? And if the answer is the shock and chaos, then there still is no excuse in the world for an editor to choose such a picture, such an invasive, peeping, exploitive picture. Whether it was a man, woman or child, the person deserves privacy. Someone will recognize, even if it’s just the one photogrpahed. Salt on the wound is pleasant in comparisan.

Before printing a picture the editor must be able to answer a clear, no doubt, yes to the following two questions:

1- If that was your daughter or son, would you want the picture to be seen?
2- If that was you, would you want your mother, grandmother and children to see the picture.
Considering that Israel has lost “propaganda points” time and time again, because it refused to detail the physical torture of our citizens by Arabs, in order to “spare” the families, it seems much worse to show such pictures.

It reminds me of what happened at a the scene of a terror attack nearby. Our local doctor, was trying to save the life of a young woman, who had been shot. A photographer kept pushing her away, ramming his camera lense to photograph what the dying woman would never had displayed. Another neighbor finally had to use force to keep him away. For defending the murdered woman’s dignity, my neighbor was arrested.

Now, I’d like the photographer and newspaper to be sued by the person pictured on the cover of Yidiot Achronot and like all rape victims, the identity must be kept secret.

Batya Medad, Shiloh
Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

The Second Time

Musings #74
October 5, 2004
The 20th of Tishrei

The Second Time

I didn’t know what to expect from the second march to Jerusalem, in memory of our neighbor, Avihu Keinan. The first is in that elite category of “Greatest Life Experiences.” The steps we took echo in my soul.

Last year I didn’t really plan on marching. Yes, I strongly identified with it, but I didn’t want to be a full day on the road in the strong Israeli sun. With some vague idea of “meeting up with it, if…” I dressed and prepared myself for an afternoon in Jerusalem sans walking shoes and with a shopping bag suburbanly hanging on my arm. Three hours after my intrepid neighbors started their trek, I left my house. Minutes later a neighbor pulled up by me: “Do you want a ride to join the march? I want to check up on my kids; they’re walking by themselves.”

I took her offer as a message from G-d. She is the friend who pulled me up after the terrorist drove over my foot. Ten minutes later we found the marchers continuing south from Ofra, and I joined. It took a couple of kilometers to find my rhythm, and I, then, began to enjoy the physical sensation of possessing our Land. I readily admit that I rode a few times, but most of the distance was by foot, and the entire experience was indescribably thrilling.

This year I really planned. Dressed in a long heavy cotton skirt, a long-sleeved, high-necked blouse, topped with a Givati-purple* commemorative t-shirt and a very wide-brimmed hat, slathered with sun screen, shod in proper walking shoes, back-up sturdy sandals and clean socks, water, fruit and yogurt in my bag and a camera in my pocketbook—I was prepared! This time I walked from Shiloh to Ofra, the only difficulty being a lack of toilet facilities inhibiting drinking, so when someone offered a shuttle to the Ofra gas station and back, I got in the van.

My “grand plan” was to get to Ofra by foot and then rejoin the march in Jerusalem. I was the oldest female walking, so whatever I accomplished put me “first place” in my category. My daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter were about to drive to Jerusalem as we got to Ofra, so I accompanied them to Pisgat Ze’ev, the first Jerusalem neighborhood on the route. Then, in my marching costume, I entered the Pisgat Ze’ev Shopping Mall and ate a proper restaurant lunch of spinach quiche and salad. Via the cellphone, I was able to know when and where to meet up with the group. Due to army pressure, the walking part was shortened, and they arrived in Pisgat Ze’ev by bus. I hadn’t really missed much. So far it was nothing special of a day, though lunch was good. You know what they say about “second times.”

I must admit that I rode on the highway from Pisgat Ze’ev to French Hill, since I don’t like breathing the pollution from the cars. There we were gathered and told of the final route. We were to walk straight to the Old City, to Sha’ar Shechem, the Damaskas Gate, and then straight through the Arab-filled market to the Kotel.

Armed with Israeli and Shiloh flags we sang as we marched. Then suddenly, it seemed, we were at Sha’ar Shechem, a place most Israelis avoid, even those who feel very comfortable walking to the kotel; there are more welcoming routes. Instead of going straight in, the men and boys began to sing and dance, praising G-d, “v’shavu banim l’gvulam, and your sons have returned to their furthest borders.” Tears of joy. I felt transported to the day in 1967 when I saw the tv newscast of the Israeli paratroopers crying and praying at the kotel.

The singing continued as we marched, proud and strong, through the crowded market to the kotel. We felt safe, at home. The Arabs opened up paths for us, just like when Nachshon stepped into the Red Sea, and the sea opened up for him and Bnai Yisrael.

The second time was even better than the first.

Batya Medad, Shiloh

*The different branches of the Israeli Army are recognized by the colors of their berets. For instance: the paratroopers are a dark red, the tank corps, black, and Givati is a deep, strong purple.

Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

Democracy? No to the Referencum!

Musings #73
October 3, 2004
The 18th of Tishrei

Democracy?
No to the Referendum!

The majority isn’t always right. Whoever it was who said that a people get the government they deserve was probably right, especially if he was referring the the “democratic process.”

This topic has been rattling around in my head for quite a while, sort of stuttering to be heard. I know it’s a sensitive topic, one that can really alienate some readers. Sometimes I write my musings quickly, fluently, without fits and starts, but usually they wander in various directions until after lots of typing and judicious deletes, they take proper form. And sometimes, once they’re finished I wonder where the words really came from.

Today I was sure some of the women at the kotel wondered what was going on. They saw a middle-aged woman in the middle of saying t’hilim who kept taking out paper and pen to write, turning the paper in all sorts of directions to find empty space, and in the end, it was put in her purse, not crammed in a crack between the ancient stones.

The majority is sometimes very wrong, remember Adolf Hitler was elected to office in a democratic election. The holy majority gave him his power. The majority can’t be trusted to do what’s moral, what’s right. Democracy is a very unreliable religion. Yes, it’s a religion, and so is liberalism, socialism and communism. It’s amazing how makpid, strict, people can be towards a religion that substitutes ideology or fashion for G-d.

Millions of people all over the world, who consider tzniyut, the Jewish laws of modesty, to be primitive, neurotic and worse, would die before showing up to a “white tie” affair in a knee-length dress or sports jacket. G-dless religions take many forms.

I could have had gone to the Bible for examples of how the majority errs on major issues. The classic case, straight from the Biblical text, is the story of the “scouts,” frequently called “The Sin of the Spies.” Soon after the Jewish People escaped from Egypt, under the leadership of Moshe, he sent a delegation of twelve, the elite from each of the tribes. They were asked to “scout” the Land, like a modern “pilot trip,” before everyone was to enter. Instead of encouraging the people, or at least coming up with a workable game plan, ten out of the twelve—the vast majority—reported that problems were ahead. They did a very logical, rational “feasibility study” and analyzed the facts on the ground very carefully. The obvious conclusion was that entering the Land would be too dangerous. Moshe, Joshua and Calev did their best to persuade otherwise, and in the following referendum, the majority of the people voted with the ten. That’s the reason for the forty year trek, until a new generation replaced those who voted with the majority of spies/scouts.

No offense, but I have this feeling that many readers won’t be swayed by the Biblical example. So I was wracking my brain for a better example, unconnected to modern politics but close enough, so that no one can accuse me of partisan politics, so while sitting close to the kotel and saying t’hilim, it hit me. And since I admit to advanced “information overload” I knew that if I didn’t write it down...

Hitler’s election is a classic, also the subsequent reactions of the German people to obey all of his edicts. The non-Jewish Germans who with unbridled enthusiasm restricted and attacked the Jews, and the Jews who humbly and with strict, law-abiding “dignity” accepted the “inconveniences.” Only a very small minority of both populations refused.

In my humble opinion, the results of a referendum have even less legitimacy than the toss of a coin.

If we had honest, patriotic leadership here in Israel, nobody would even think of a referendum, and there wouldn’t be Judenrat-like letters sent to Jewish families. If we had honest, patriotic leadership here in Israel Jews would be proudly and enthusiastically encouraged to live in all of Eretz Yisrael. If we had honest, patriotic leadership here in Israel, no foreigner would even think of criticizing us. If only we had honest, patriotic leadership here in Israel…

“Heimah kar’u v’naflu, v’anachnu kamnu v’nit’oded. Hashem hoshi’ah, HaMelech ya’aneinu b’yom kar’einu.” (T’hilim Psalms XX, 9-10) “They slumped and fell, but we were invigorated. G-d, save! May the King answer us on the day we call.”

Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

A Few Thoughts

Musings #72
September 28, 2004
The 13th of Tishrei

A Few Thoughts
The Protection of the Succah

Traditionally the succah is not considered to be a protective structure. It’s the antithesis of materialism. Even if there’s a permanence to its walls, the roof, ceiling must be removable. The branches covering it must be detached from its tree. Almost everyone who builds them regularly has stories of “the year it blew away…” Sometimes just the schach, and sometimes the whole succah, or a wall or more. I remember rain so strong and heavy that decorations melted into the trash.

This year has been desert dry in the Samarian Mountains. It’s the first year I can remember that we felt the heat of the sun, inside the succah. For the past fifteen years or so, I’ve felt the succah to be a protecting place, regardless of the wisdom of the sages. It was about fifteen years ago, when we were on our then traditional, annual family trip to the kotel and the succah at the edge of the enormous plaza.

From the time I had been in Israel as a student, the year before I got married, I liked to eat in the succah near the kotel. It was always crowded with visitors from all over, all different costumes and customs. All different foods and serving methods. Having been raised with waxed paper sandwich bags, saranwrap and tin foil, I couldn’t understand how other mothers were schlepping pots of chicken and rice to such a crowded public place. They were also much more successful than I at grabbing and claiming the few tables and chairs for their families. My poor kids had to make due with wholewheat sandwiches and fruit, the five of them sharing a couple of chairs, or sitting on the food, strewn floor.

After almost twenty Succot in Israel, we had reached a rather boring routine, and then we heard it. It sounded like a battle. We had no idea what was going on. Then after finding cracks to peek through, we saw heavy stones, looking from our distance like tennis balls being tossed mechanically, like from the machines they had in my high school to occupy those of us deemed too inferior for proper tennis instruction. Arabs from our Har Habayit, Temple Mount, were attacking Jews praying at the kotel underneath. Why had G-d enabled us to liberate Jerusalem if we gave the Arabs the upper hand?

Our army was retaliating, by shooting “tear gas” at the attacking Arabs. In actuality, all that did was to further endanger the Jews, who had to cover their eyes as they then fled blindly. In the tzell , shade of the succah, we breathed clean air. No irritants, no tear gas in our eyes. The succah protected us. Then the soldiers came and ordered us out, ordered us to flee, ordered us to breathe the poisons, expose our eyes to danger.

“The King is in His Altogether” or
What Really Happened to That Little Boy

Everyone knows the story, “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” how the foolish emperor allowed himself to be convinced that he was dressed in magic clothes that could only be seen by the wise. He was too proud and embarrassed to admit that he couldn’t see them, so he pretended to see their magnificent colors, jewels, design. In his enthusiasm to show all his wisdom he paraded, so dressed, in front of all his subjects, who, also, insisted that they could see the magic fabric.

Then suddendly a little boy, too young, naïve, honest to realize that admitting that he couldn’t see any fabric would make him look “like an idiot” called out: “The emperor has no clothes!” or as Danny Kaye sang so cheerfully: “The King is in His Altogether!” The traditional story ends with the crowds admitting that the boy was right, and the emperor, very embarrassed, trying to re/cover his dignity.

But in real life, the little boy is accused of incitement. A criminal file is opened. Yes, that’s the truth. Just ask Nadia Matar.

Batya Medad
Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

With the Wonder of a Child

Musings #71
September 23, 2004
The 8th of Tishrei

With the Wonder of a Child

Yesterday I took my granddaughter to get her first pair of real shoes. It was quite an event, our inaugural purchase in the new shopping mall in Pisgat Zeev (the first Jerusalem neighborhood we reach when travelling from Shiloh.) When I bought my own children’s “first shoes” they were all younger, and I don’t remember any of them reacting with the same joy and enthusiasm as Hallel.

First we showed her the display shoe of the style we had hoped would fit, and she grabbed it with a possessiveness, like she had been waiting her entire life for just that shoe. A few minutes later, with the proper size on her feet, we gently pried the shoe from hands and stood her up on the floor. Then she grabbed our hands and tried walking with the bright, red shoes on her feet. In less than a minute she let go and we followed.

It was thrilling watching the total happiness and amazement that radiated from her, as for the first time she could freely wander and such wonders she saw. Everything caught her attention, and when we took her into the large toy store, she wheeled around a variety of doll carriages and little wagons. Later we let her walk into the supermarket, where her enthusiasm over the different colored peppers on display was even more than she had shown over the balloons in the wide corridor. She tried to grab grapes and then was easily distracted when we showed her the colored containers of fabric softeners and detergents. Following Hallel, I, too began to see the supermarket as a beautiful mix of colors and treasures. By looking at the mall with Hallel’s eyes I, too, saw abundance and riches.

Yom Kippur
On Yom Kippur we fast and confess all possible sins to G-d. Then we are to be forgiven, and we become as “new.” Our slates are wiped clean, as clean as that of a child. We are supposed to be changed by the process of tshuva, repentance. What’s the purpose of these weeks of soul-searching, all of the hours of prayer, confession and twenty-five hours of fasting if we’re going to remain the same as before?

As new people we should be looking at the world with new eyes. We should be looking at the world, at G-d’s creations and abundance with the joy of a toddler. By cleaning ourselves of sin we should be washing away doubts and cynicism. We must purify our faith.

On Yom Kippur we imitate the angels, who have no bodily needs and thereby neither eat nor drink. We can handle it for a day at the most. G-d helps us by giving us prayers to say, more than on any other day. It’s like when Hallel needed our hands for her very first steps with her first shoes.

Our challenge is following G-d when he’s not holding our hands. Our challenge is seeing the beauty of His gifts. We must learn to see the world with the wonder of a child.

Chag Sameach and Gmar Chatima Tova to all of you.
Batya Medad, Shiloh
Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

None of My Business

Musings #70
September 20, 2004
The 5th of Tishrei

None of My Business

Even though I’m an American citizen, born in Brooklyn to parents, also, born in Brooklyn, I’ve never voted in American elections, and I have no plans to ever do so.

When I made aliyah, a few decades ago, the minimum age for voting in American elections was twenty-one, and I had just celebrated that birthday (and got married, too.) It was still summer when we boarded the boat, a few months before election day.

Recently, as the next American presidential elections have been “heating up,” there have been all sorts of notices being cyber-distributed urging all American citizens to take advantage of their legal right and vote in the elections. Some include dire warnings that Kerry’s a danger to Israel, while other claim that Bush is the danger, and others, non-partisan, say: “Just vote.”

Some American Israelis say that since we’re taxed, we must vote. Even that isn’t so simple, since very few of us, American Israelis, make the sort of income that is taxed from abroad, and we renew our American passports without any problems. Yes, I still hold an American passport, and when necessary I use it, and we registered all of our children, and they, too have American passports. I don’t see any contradiction in this; there is no law requiring Americans to vote. A sizable percentage of resident American citizens don’t vote, and they’re not breaking any law. Not voting is not a rejection of citizenship. Neither American Law, nor Israeli Law forbids dual citizenship.

My primary citizenship is Israeli, and I don’t feel a moral right to interfere with or influence American life. I don’t live in America and haven’t for over thirty years. In the same vein, I don’t think that those not living in Israel have any rights to interfere or influence Israeli life, and that includes politics. In addition, the top priority of American politicians should be what’s best for America, and therefore, any promises made concerning Israel are suspect. Even with the best of intentions, their job is to promote America and not Israel. We have enough trouble trusting our own politicians, who should be thinking: Israel first, not wondering what will please a bunch of foreigners.

America is not Israel’s savior. It doesn’t even treat us as a trusted and respected friend. The “financial aid” America gives Israel is nothing more than coupons to support/subsidize American industry, in the process weakening our own struggling economy. Even the so-called support for Israel’s establishment wasn’t simple. The story of Truman’s old Jewish friend struggling to get an appointment to beg (shades of Esther and Achashverosh) for his promise of support is no secret. Don’t forget how Kissinger encouraged Nixon to delay delivering military supplies during our most difficult days of the Yom Kippur War in 1973, when Israel’s survival was in doubt. America is not a trustworthy friend.

Whenever Israel does something to defend itself, America chastises us, telling us to do the Christian thing and turn the other cheek, even though they, themselves, have no compunctions when bombing those who may be supporting their enemies.

Jay Pollard wasn’t the only American defense employee* tempted to inform Israel of secret information it was supposed to have received according to various treaties. He is jailed in the most difficult of conditions for giving information to an ally, while enemy spies have been “lightly” punished or deported. Pollard’s punishment is without legal precedent and totally out of proportion to any other in American history.

The bottom line is that I don’t consider the American government my government. Any influence it may have on Israel comes from Israeli weakness. The Americans can only control us if we let them. I only vote in Israeli elections, and I search hard for candidates who are independent of foreign control.

Those Americans residing in America should vote, and Americans living abroad who feel that it’s important to vote, should vote, too. I am not writing this to convince anyone not to vote. I am just explaining why I’m not voting. If Americans elect a person of extremely, high moral character, it will be good for America and good for all the world, including Israel. The problem is finding a successful politician with that trait.

(*There are others who just didn’t inform Israel and therefore weren’t prosecuted and are unknown by the general public.)

Batya Medad, Shiloh
Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

Rosh Hashannah Reflections

Musings #69
September 19, 2004
The 4th of Tishrei, Tzom Gedalia

Rosh Hashannah Reflections

Using all our senses…
“V’karev pizurainu mebain hagoyim… And (G-d,) gather our scattered remnants from (Exile) the nations…” This is one of the lines that’s repeated a number of times in the Rosh Hashannah prayers. To paraphrase and interpret, we are commanding G-d to return Jews, scattered all over the world, Home from the galut, exile. This Rosh Hashannah, as I heard and sang those familiar words, it hit me how easy it is to sense the progress of the return.

Let’s start with the sense of hearing. Just listening to the various accents leading the dovening, Birkat Kohanim and making the brachot during the Torah reading in our little shul, it was clear that in Shiloh we have immigrants from North America, North Africa, Europe and further. Smell and taste are sensed from the foods cooked and served for the holidays, and everyday. There was lots more than gefilte fish coming out of the local kitchens here. Culinary delicacies from Yemen, Morocco, Russia, France, New Zealand and more vied with modern Israeli specialties. Seeing all of my neighbors of various colors and features is an easy way of remembering that Shiloh is a magnet for “pizurainu,” “our scattered remnants.” And as for touch, it’s real, not an illusion; as my friends and greeted each other, we could feel the moshiach getting closer.

You and Us
This year, while I was dovening, I found myself noticing something in the language of the prayers. We pray directly to G-d, using the second person, as if we’re talking directly to a friend. It’s unlike many languages that dictate that when speaking to someone distinguished, one speaks in third person. This has me confused, as it is considered proper nowadays to use third person when speaking to a rabbi. I wonder when this third person to a rabbi talk began. It doesn’t seem Jewish. If we can speak directly to G-d, then we should speak directly to other men, even distinguished rabbis.

Judaism is klal, community. We doven in the plural linguistically and literally, as we’re supposed to doven in a minyon. In our prayers we ask G-d to help us, in the plural, not singular. The focus of Rosh Hashannah prayers is the People, the Nation, not the individual. We beseech Elokeinu, Avinu, Malkeinu, Our G-d, Our Father, Our King.

“Zachrainu l’chaim, Melech chafaitz b’chaim..” “Remember us for life, the King who desires life.” During the Ten Days of Repentance, from Rosh Hashannah to Yom Kippur, we add extra requests to the “Amidah—Shmoneh Esreh,” the “Prayer of the Eighteen Blessings” said three times a day on weekdays and a fourth on Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh and holidays. As the prayer opens we ask for Zachrainu l’chaim from the “Melech chafaitz b’chaim” Remember to give us, as a People, life, because You, G-d, are a King who desires life.

Towards the end of the prayer we add a strong request that summarizes the theme of the season, the theme of all of our Yomim Nora’im, Days of Awe prayers:
B’Sefer Chaim, In The Book of Life, bracha v’shalom, blessing and peace, u’parnasah tovah, and good livelihood, n’zachair, v’n’kataiv l’fanecha, may we be remembered and inscribed before/by you, Anachnu v’chal Amcha Beit Yisrael, We, All of Us, All of Your People, Family of Israel, l’chaim tovim, ul’shalom, for a good life and for peace.

We are praying not for ourselves, not for our private, personal desires, not even just for our family and close friends. We are praying for all of G-d’s people, all of the Jewish people. All are included in our prayers, even if they themselves aren’t praying. Anachnu amcha, we are your people G-d, and our prayers are joint prayers as a family, Beit Yisrael. L’chaim tovim, in Hebrew the word “chaim,” life is in the plural. Life is complicated and consists of many different aspects; they should all be good. Ul’shalom, peace, the true peace, not a false, artificial one, that isn’t peace at all.

For all this we pray directly to G-d.

Batya Medad, Shiloh
Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

Take the Hint

Musings #68
September 10, 2004

Take the Hint

Sometimes things are very obvious. This morning was a perfect example. It was freezing cold, even though the sun was bright. A brisk wind caused waves in the pool, so it looked more like a lake. I was the first swimmer at the pool this morning, even though it was almost a half hour after opening. The lifeguard, fully dressed, was shivering under her blanket-like towel. This year it was easy for us to take the hint and accept the the pool’s closing for the winter.

A year ago, when I realized that I’d be teaching fewer hours, I was able to quickly offer my daughter some of my newly freed time to help her with her baby, my first grandchild. I wasn’t looking to reduce my hours, but I quickly found something even better to do with my time, teach English to the cutest, sweetest and certainly smartest baby ever.

In the spring of 1967 when Israel found itself facing war, it had no plans of liberating (or conquering) any lands, Biblical or otherwise. It was facing the battle of survival. After six days* of fighting, when the war was over The Jewish State found itself possessing its Biblical homeland, Shechem, Shiloh, Beit Lechem and more. But instead of taking the hint and immediately returning to our ancient cities when the Arabs were accepting their fate and our rule, Israeli politicians were so “embarrassed” by our victory that they began to search for ways to give those gifts from G-d away. Actually, they had trouble finding a taker.

The only people in world history to have had been sovereign in Judea and Samaria were the Biblical Jews. The only other rulers were foreign imperialists, the last being Great Britain which handed it to Jordan in 1947/8. Jordan didn’t really want it and didn’t develop it at all. And I’m not going to elaborate on the fact that Jordan itself has no ancient national history. It was “invented” in the twentieth century when the British were enamored with Arab sheiks. I admit that it’s a simplification, but factual.

Throughout Judea and Samaria all of the modern infrastructure is Israeli, post 1967. Until well into the late 1970’s and early ‘80’s there were periodic announcements in The Jerusalem Post that (name) Arab village near Ramalla (for example) was just hooked up to for water or electricity or modern telephone service. Even when we moved to Shiloh in 1981, the nearby Arab villages still used generators, and the lights all went out by midnight. When Jews returned to Shiloh in 1978, the community was given a local (Arab) phone line. You had to speak to the operator in either Arabic or English; the connections were manual. It wasn’t until 1982 that modern phone lines were put in. Remember, that was the eve of the cell phone age. Under Jordanian rule, the Arabs in Judea and Samaria were living in conditions from the previous century.

Then, there wasn’t much opposition to Israeli rule; everyday life and the standard of living were improving rapidly. If the Israeli left hadn’t kept “hocking” everyone “a chinik” that Israel should let the Arabs rule, things would have settled down peacefully. All the Arabs needed to know was that we were here to stay, and things would have been very different.

We didn’t “take the hint.” We didn’t enthusiastically and quickly populate all the historic land G-d gave us. The agriculture business quickly realized the potential of the Jordan Valley and the Sinai for growing food for export and quickly began to establish farming communities. On the Golan Heights communities were established for the security of the kibbutzim in the valleys below and for their agricultural potential. Judea and Samaria were to be left “judenrein,” so it could be given as some sort of “compensation” to the Arabs.

*Six days, yes, like the six days of creation, followed by Shabbat, the days of the moshiach—the days to come, redemption. My neighbor, Rabbi Michael Brom, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Hesder Shiloh, frequently mentions the signs posted all over Israel after the war: “Todah Rabah L’Tzahal,” “Thanks Very Much To the Israel Defense Forces.” We were supposed to thank G-d. Even the most committed atheiest admits that our victory in 1967 was a miracle; Tzahal was just a tool, the “hand” of G-d, doing G-d’s work. We sinned, because we didn’t thank G-d sufficiently.

Today we are suffering, not only because we didn’t thank G-d but because we didn’t use the gift G-d gave us. The process of establishing yishuvim always involved fighting the authorities, lots of pressure and procedures until permits were given. We failed; we sinned. We have to repent. We have to do more to settle all of the Land of Israel. G-d gave us a gift. We must recognize that G-d gives us the good, and we are responsible for the evil.

Shannah Tovah and Gmar Chatima Tovah,
Batya Medad, Shiloh
Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

To Feel The Earth Under Our Feet

Musings #67
September 5, 2004

To Feel The Earth, Ha'Aretz Under Our Feet


Just a year ago, after our neighbor, Avihu Keinan, was killed in a badly planned army action, his father, Moshe, vowed to march to the Israeli President, Moshe Katzav in Jerusalem, and he did. Less than three weeks after Avihu was buried in the Shiloh Cemetery, Moshe, accompanied by hundreds of others, walked from Shiloh to The President’s Residence and set up a succah there. During Chol Hamoed Succot, many, many more people, ordinary Israelis, tourists and other bereaved parents came to encourage him and support his struggle to change the perverse morality that is endangering us all.

Avihu was killed, because the military operation was planned with priority on protecting Arab civilians, rather than enable our soldiers to fight the terrorists in the most effective ways possible. Avihu was an expert in hand-to-hand combat, but he wasn’t given a chance. A couple of weeks ago as I watched Israeli Judoist Arik Ze’evi use his superior physical and mental strength against his opponent, I couldn’t stop thinking of Avihu. Arik Ze’evi won a medal, because he was allowed to fight fairly. The perverse morality pervading our politicians and military prevented Avihu Keinan from fighting, from killing the terrorists, from staying alive.

Last year all who marched with Moshe agreed on one thing; we must make this march an annual event. The “Od Avihu Chai March on Jerusalem” will, G-d willing, take place on Tuesday, Chol Hamoed Succot, the 20th of Tishrei, 5-10-04, 8am from Shiloh.

In order to truly possess our land, we must walk it, feel it beneath our feet. Last year’s march was indescribably exhilarating, even for those who were only able to walk a small portion of the route, even for those who were busy setting up the water and nosh tables on the way and for those who stood on the roadside and sidewalks cheering and encouraging.

For the past few years “security considerations” have been keeping us in our ghettos and protected vehicles. Twenty years ago, we thought nothing of taking young children on hikes and marches throughout YESHA. It was safe; we felt comfortable and secure wherever we went. Today we’re always warning our children to stay inside the fences, and as a result we are losing our Land.

I remember the afternoon less than ten years ago, as my neighbors and I were turning into Beit El to go to the gas station. We saw some Israeli teenage boys on the main road waiting for rides. I was tempted to have the car stopped and yell at them to get into Beit El, which was safer. Minutes later, terrorists shot at them and one, David Boim, HaYa”D, was murdered. I was so upset with myself, why hadn’t I told them to get back in? They shouldn’t have been so “irresponsible.”

A few hours later, when the army finally allowed us to continue our journey home to Shiloh, I noticed a group of teenage boys playing soccer just outside of Beit El. They were Arab boys, the same ages as the Jewish ones who had just been shot at while innocently waiting for rides. Suddenly it hit me. Our boys, the Jewish ones, weren’t “bad” waiting out there on the road. We are the bad ones, so easily and quickly abandoning our Land.

There are people who claim that there’s apartheid here in Israel, that the Arabs suffer severe restrictions. They are half right. There is apartheid, but it’s the Jews who are discriminated against. We are the ones whose movements are restricted. Every time I go to Kever Rachel I’m especially reminded of it. Arabs, Moslems, Christians walk into Beit Lechem freely, and we sit imprisoned in an armored bus, waiting for a soldier weighted in bullet-proof apparel to escort us the few meters to the tomb. We are not “free in our own Land.” “…lihiyot chofshi b’artzeinu.”

Last year, when I was marching with Moshe, I had a taste of that freedom. I’m looking forward to doing it again, though I have no idea of how much of the route I’ll actually do by foot. I highly recommend that everyone join, even if it’s for a short distance, or helping set up rest stops, or just cheering on the roadside, or sponsoring the “rest stops.” For more information call the Shiloh office 02-940-1111 or 0545-649-140.

Batya Medad, Shiloh
Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

The Have’s and Have Not’s

Musings #66
September 3, 2004

The Have’s and Have Not’s

The world is divided between those online and those off. It seems like forever since, like just now, I sip my morning coffee while checking my email, writing these musings or tests for my students or just reading the news from the screen. Email has made it possible for me to establish, renew and strengthen relationships with relatives and friends far away, in different time zones and life styles. “Lists” and “groups” have introduced me to people I would have never known. And these “musings,” amazingly popular over the world, are rarely seen by those who don’t get them via the internet.

Though I’m generally one of the “have’s,” for a week I was a “have not.” Our computer was “in the shop” getting a “transplant” of sorts. I struggled against severe withdrawal symptoms, was almost oblivious of the news, worried that my close relatives far away would think I was the sick one and afraid that lost letters would cause people to think that I had snubbed them. All that was rivaled only my extreme anxiety of how I was going to cope with the hundreds of letters once the computer was back on. I’m embarrassed to admit that most of the six hundred plus (including the yahoo accounts) were probably deleted as my eyes crossed and closed uncontrollably and the “mouse,” so hyper-excited to be back at work, somehow deleted two per click.

Now our computer has a bigger memory, but it “forgot” all the addresses we had been collecting over the years. It’s missing the “spell check,” so don’t be surprised if there are some really dumb mistakes that can’t pass for innocent typos. I had gotten used to sloppy typing, knowing that the computer would signal my mistakes with a wavy red line. Now I have to be very careful, or you’ll discover the truth—my spelling’s atrocious!

I must admit that I was amazed at how easily I found other things to do during the too many daily hours I usually spend in front of the screen. Being a “have not,” even temporarily, is easy to get used to. It is amazing how easily I turned myself off from what’s going on. Even that horrific double terror attack in Beersheva seemed to just pass me by. All those innocent bus travelers murdered by self-propelled human murder weapons, and I was almost oblivious.

Israel is in danger! And most of us are just “fiddling,” like Nero as Rome burned. It’s amazing that as tiny a country as Israel is, most Israelis succeed in keeping themselves in small, defined areas and are oblivious to what’s happening just down the road. Almost everyone has “maps” indicating where they “go” and “don’t go.”

Even within the yishuvim, we survive emotionally by erecting walls to keep out fear. Just normal day-to-day life with our families, work and finances are all that many of us can handle. We’re just ordinary people. We “demonstrate” by keeping to regular routines of work, childcare, gardening, healthcare and all of the normal activities we would have to do if we lived in Tel Aviv, Paris or Toronto.

Now after a week’s “vacation,” I’m back on line. I’ve turned on the loudspeaker in order to broadcast again. We all have a job to do. We each must find a way to fight for Israel’s survival. Israel is being strangled by a high cement fence. That fence is not going to protect us.
Arabs will be allowed in to Israel for work, medical care and other reasons. The “world” is more concerned about inconveniencing the Arabs than protecting Jews. Mohatme Gandhi’s grandson was recently in Israel and condemned Israel for that “crime.” He didn’t condemn the Arabs for the terror attacks against us. That’s the way it is. We shouldn’t expect help from others only from ourselves, and that means you and me.

This week’s parsha Portion of the Week is Ki Tavo, “And it shall come to pass…” which includes a very graphic description of what will happen if we don’t obey G-d. It is so horrendous that the person who reads the Torah is supposed to lower his voice. If we follow G-d’s commandments we will be blessed, if not….. G-d forbid!

It’s up to us, our decisions and our actions.

Batya Medad, Shiloh
Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il

The Good Old Days

Musings #64
August 16, 2004

The Good Old Days and
Chodesh Tov

I’m certainly old enough to mourn “the good old days” when things were “so much better.” Let’s start with dancing, and I’m not just talking about the hora. I’m referring to what was once known as “ballroom dancing.” That’s what we called it then, when people still danced as couples. Even in early “Rock ‘n’ Roll” couples were graceful, athletic and more alluring than anything seen today. I was around then, even on the dance floor, when dancers stopped holding hands and started to “twist.” And it’s no surprise that “The Twist” evolved into “The Jerk” with a serving of “Mashed Potatoes.” Now it’s much worse, “trance” when the individual dancers are oblivious to those around them, only entranced with themselves.

Jewish simcha, or wedding dances have also changed from comfortable reliably choreographed circles to each individual doing something that reminds me Martha Graham movements or the “improvisations” we did in the “Creative Modern Dance” I learned as a kid. Dancers seem to be meditating to their own tunes, rather than “l’same’ach chatan v’kallah,” “making it joyful for the bride and groom.”

Then, again, what can I expect from the products of modern education? Instead of learning to listen to the teacher and sitting facing the blackboard (ok, it’s generally green or white today) these kids sit around small tables in elementary school. They face each other with their backs to the teacher. The goal of these teaching methods is to provide individual attention, each child at his own pace. Yes, it does sound wonderful in theory, but… reading scores have been dropping ever since… and attention/concentration problems have been rising to epidemic proportions. The noise levels in those classrooms, as the pupils wait for the teacher, or ask their friends, or just play, makes concentrating worse than difficult.

The last straw, for me, was listening to one of Israel’s most veteran and professional choral groups on TV. After hearing them introduced, I looked forward to being serenaded by their well-known, beautiful harmonies. Maybe if I had been alert enough to notice that they were all clutching microphones, I wouldn’t have been so shocked. Instead of their unique, unified, blended sound being captured by a few well-placed microphones, the personal, handheld microphones amplified their individual imperfections. They sounded like a spontaneous shout-fest, rather than the well-trained and well-rehearsed group they have been for decades.

I have nothing against individualism, if it’s a personality trait, not an ideology. When people are educated to think of themselves first, the results are anarchy. When I was a gym teacher, I used to remind my students that when playing “catch,” the better one is the one who throws the ball in a way that the catcher can succeed in catching it. Ideally, the aim is to be sensitive to the abilities of others, to enable them to achieve their maximum potential.

In the days when dancing was together in a circle, the better dancers took the hands of the weaker and guided them. Today, those weaker dancers stand shyly on the sidelines, while the “stars” show off, oblivious to all others.

Jewish prayer is supposed to be in a group of at least ten men, a minyan. Individual meditation is not Jewish. We base our prayers on set texts. There is a leader who says the most important sections out loud. If someone cannot read it all, he or she can say: “Amen” following the leader’s prayer. The strong assists the weak. That is our religion, community, People.

Tonight begins the Jewish month of Elul, the month before Rosh Hashanah. This is the month in which we must prepare ourselves for G-d’s judgement. This is the time to take stock of our lives, to repent, since none of us are perfect. And those of us who are strong must help those who are weak.

Chodesh Tov,
Batya Medad

Shilohmuse@yahoo.com
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/
http://www.shilo.org.il