Some Thoughts on Israel, the Jewish Homeland                      June 5, 2000

Below are my almost-related thoughts, sprinkled with a few facts.  This was written a while back, before things turned sour in Israel.  Feel free to e-mail me with your thoughts or reactions.                Witta
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Israel is the unexpected fruit of the Holocaust.  It is a phoenix, born from ashes of murdered families and all the unbelievable horrors of WWII.  It is the Jewish homeland that was so desperately needed sixty years ago, but was not there.  Israel's birth was difficult, and its future is still uncertain.

The State of Israel, a land of 6 million mostly Jews, is surrounded by 60 million Arabs, many believing Israel is the enemy, a usurper of Arab land.  It is a country surrounded by fundamentalist Muslims, some idealistic or fanatic enough to envision another glorious jihad, or to participate in terrorist, suicide missions.  At the moment, there is peace between Israel and two of its neighbors, Egypt and Jordan.  And there are ongoing negotiations (and mostly peace) with the Palestinians.  But impasses still exist with Syria and Lebanon.  The withdrawal of Israeli troops from Lebanon made recent headlines.  War is real here and has been since the War of Independence in ’48.  A major war has erupted every 10 years or so.  The most recent was the Gulf War, with Israelis huddled in darkened homes while missiles flew through the night sky.

There are constant reminders of the political realities.  Men and women must serve in the Israeli army, and men, until age 45, do 40 days of reserve duty a year.  Uniformed soldiers, some with rifles, and security inspections are a part of everyday life.  Handbags are searched at train stations, department stores, museums, etc.  And everyone knows someone -- a friend, a neighbor, a relative -- who has been killed or disabled in a terrorist attack or while in the service.  All this makes life stressful, a tension inherent in just living in Israel.  Though this tension is not very visible on the surface, where people live their lives as if all is well and safe, it seems to have penetrated into the Israeli psyche.

I believe this ever-present stress accounts for the behaviors of the citizenry.  Israelis on the street are neither friendly nor courteous.  Wherever I went, I felt invisible; people blocking the sidewalk didn’t move over to let me pass, nor had anyone heard of the word "queue."  People rarely say hello, and don’t smile at strangers.  Israelis can be quite loud, seemingly unconcerned about those around them. They are quick to honk their horns, and do so often.  So unless you're here to visit friends or family, that is, unless you already know some people, you're not likely to find Israelis especially outgoing or friendly.

Looking at Israel from an esthetic viewpoint, I found much of Israel, especially the cities and towns unattractive.  There are of course the marvelous historic and religious sites, such as Jerusalem, Masada, the Dead Sea, Eilat, and the Galilee, and all the fascinating museums, mosques and churches.  (Remember all those earlier travelogs?)  And there are the agricultural areas and a few attractive towns.  But for the most part, the cities with their older neighborhoods, especially those built prior to 1960 as well as many of the Arab sections, are in serious need of renovation and clean-up.  Building exteriors are mostly dilapidated, needing more than just plaster and paint.  The typical 3 or 4-story apartment buildings are architecturally awful, laid out one next to the other, block after block. These extremely boxy, unadorned structures have flat roofs with solar water heaters on top looking like unsightly warts. A general eyesore.  

The narrow downtown streets and sidewalks are generally in poor condition, uneven, rutted, impassable.  They're over-crowded with cars, both those on the streets and those partly parked on the sidewalks.  And there are dog droppings everywhere; Israeli’s apparently prefer to curb their cars, rather than their dogs.  Litter, which is an ever-present plague, mars the beaches, alleyways and downtown thoroughfares.  There's plenty of room for improvement here.

In part, the sad state of the cities is a consequence of the current high unemployment rate and scarcity of funds.  Government moneys are spent on military preparedness – both in terms of developing advanced weapons systems and maintaining troop readiness.  Another huge money drain is the 800,000 Russians (now almost 20% of the population) who have immigrated to Israel over the last 4 years.  Meeting their day to day needs, providing housing, job training, health care, etc., is an expensive and difficult undertaking.  Israel’s moneymaking options are limited.  Cash cowing their natural resources is not one of them; much of the country is still barren, sandy desert.  Making matters worse, Israel is starting to run out of potable water.  Clearly money for "luxuries" like street improvements and "Old Town" renovations is limited.

And just to complicate things more, Israelis tend to be a rather opinionated group.  They have a hard time reaching consensus, even under the best of circumstances.  Nowadays this is even harder, as the number of political parties has ballooned to 30.  In each week-end edition of The Jerusalem Post there are so many contradictory viewpoints expressed that it’s like a jigsaw puzzle, trying to sort out the fascinating politics of the region.  So progress is likely to be slow.

Unfortunately, the egalitarian, socialist visions of the original pioneers have dimmed over the years.  The days of the collective, the old, commune-style kibbutz, and the founders' idealistic spirit seem to have given way to the more American attitude of "What’s in it for me?"  This will make it difficult for Israel to catch up with a rapidly moving world.  Change will require an overriding vision, lots of teamwork and real commitment.  Hard to come by anywhere, and perhaps even harder here.

Still, it’s clear that there is a very strong bond between Israeli Jews and their homeland.  Something that is even stronger than a patriotism built upon wars fought and lives lost.  Something that goes beyond years of converting desert wasteland into vineyards and homes.  When I asked about this bond, the answers were mostly variations on a theme: "After the Holocaust, it was so important to have a place to call home – to have a place that is my land."  "There needs to be a place where Jews can come when persecution, as it has so often in the past, makes a homeland necessary."  Passover reminded me of another reason for this bond.  Passover is about remembering the bitterness of enslavement, and the homeland the Jews lost.  For many hundreds of years the annual Seder service has ended by expressing the longing to return to Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel.  It ends with the pledge – "Next year in Palestine; next year in Jerusalem."  So, as one Israeli pointed out: "We are here because this is where God told us to come."