 |
 |
 |
|
|
| The territories (photo: Chelsea Mosery) |
|
|
|
|
By Laura Ben-David
July 30, 2007
 Bookmark to del.icio.us
 |
| The territories (photo: Chelsea Mosery) |
| |
Today I embarked on a journey that united me not only with hundreds of neighbors and friends, but with the Jewish people of countless generations filled with hope and a deep yearning for Zion. A journey that recognizes that our quest to reestablish our homeland did not end with the Balfour Declaration in 1917;did not end with the declaration of the State of Israel in 1948 with its subsequent war and continued bloodshed;did not end with the Six--Day War in 1967;and it certainly is not over now that our government has done deeds such as ripping away the homes of thousands in Gush Katif, to make way for Hamastan, and now seems poised to facilitate the creation of another terror state in Judea and Samaria. A journey that seeks to rectify the past, and fortify the future.
Today we were determined to act;to do our part to reverse the self--destructive path that Israel seems determined to take, contrary to all reason. A path chosen despite the fact that further territorial concessions have been proven highly detrimental and despite the fact that the so--called security wall has been proven to cause more harm than good. Today we collectively said, "Enough!"as we prepared to march unto Eitam Hill, the eighth hill of Efrat, to land that was zoned for housing more than twenty years ago. Highly strategic land that is slated to be on the "other" side of the fence -- effectively giving the land away, endangering all of Gush Etzion and Jerusalem.
I joined in rather late;only a few lone trekkers were starting out then. A refreshment table, placed at the start, provided me with extra water, and I set out with another Efrat resident. We left the northern gates of Efrat under the early evening sun and entered beautiful, largely untouched land leading toward Eitam Hill. I felt a sense of adventure and purpose as we set forth, though thoroughly unequipped for the occasion, in a straight skirt and open--toe slides. Over piles of boulders, down rocky mountain ledges, through wild fields, and ancient olive groves we climbed and crawled, we hiked and scrambled, none of my companions any the wiser of where we were, or just how far our destination lay. It would be an hour of this rough terrain before we stopped, just short of the spot where the most determined among us were to begin to build, and fight for, Eitam Hill. However, we saw and heard plenty throughout the journey.
All along the way there were army soldiers, police officers, border police, and Yassam (SWAT) units. There were even some on horseback. It seemed that each unit had its own tasks. Some were there to block us from going at all, while others, ironically, were there to protect us as we went. Still others were there to maintain order, make arrests, and then there were those who seemed to be there for no reason other than to harass us.
People were coming and going. Early on we met a distraught woman on her way back. She said that they had made it to the end, and her husband was holding an Israeli flag. One soldier allegedly pushed her husband, and then it seemed to be open--season on this man as a number of other soldiers jumped in to attack him, after which the man was arrested -- all for holding an Israeli flag.
A bit further on I watched four border policemen drag someone away. I had no idea what he had or had not done to warrant such excessive force. Maybe he was passively resisting? Or maybe he was a dangerous criminal? That seemed rather unlikely though.
Moshe, a 15 year old from Chashmonaim, had a very difficult time. When he and his friends reached the final hill of Eitam, he spoke to some of the soldiers there, explaining the importance for every Jew to settle the Land of Israel. A border policeman, whose name, ironically, was Arafat, started cursing them and pushing. The boys weren't looking for a fight. They were speaking nicely with one of the Yassam officers, when this man allegedly said, "I'm sick of being nice"and started to choke Moshe, while covering his mouth. Four Yassam officers reportedly joined in, and threw him onto a bus. When Moshe protested further brutal action toward someone else, the officer punched him in the face, used pressure points in his ear to cause pain, cursed at him. Finally, other cops pulled his attacker off the bus. However, soon afterwards several Yassam officers got back on the bus, pushed the border policemen who was protecting him out of the way, and proceeded to pull his tzizit, choking him, and kicking him. All the while Moshe was yelling, "I surrender, I surrender! I didn't do anything!"
Despite how terrible these reports seemed, I was determined to try to see this event through the eyes of the soldiers and officers. I desperately wanted to understand. I therefore tried talking to many of the various security personnel on the scene. I wanted to know -- did it torment them to have to prevent their fellow Jews from their struggle to preserve the Jewish quality of the Land of Israel? Most were pretty tight--lipped. One of the border policemen put it this way: "This is a restricted area, no civilians are allowed. There are hostile villages here."
"Yes,"I told him, "I understand. But how do you feel about doing this?"
"I don't feel. I do my orders."
I tried several other officers. One told me that he can't speak to me while in uniform, that he has a job. I suggested that I speak to him later, when he is off--duty, and he said, "Later, I just want to go home."
I couldn't help but wonder: Does the army consist solely of battalions, or of individuals too? Where should the individual end and the establishment begin? Can they coexist? Must we lose our humanity to be part of the establishment?
The current "establishment"seems to have completely sold--out on the pioneers of Israel. What was Zionism, patriotism and nationalistic spirit, is now patently illegal. Criminal activity. Our soldiers -- OUR SOLDIERS! -- have been charged with stopping us in our tracks. Maybe even to threaten us and hurt us. Sometimes they do. But not always. Sometimes they're our brothers, our fathers, our sons. But not always.
The soldiers and police had said they could not speak to me, but after a while they did. They are not my enemies, and I am not theirs! When they passed out fruit to their comrades, they shared a plum with me as well. I was confused;were they the good guys or the bad guys? Whose side was I on anyway? This, an unfortunate byproduct of pitting brother against brother, I suddenly remembered my great--grandfather tell of the First World War, and how he had brothers on both sides of the conflict and therefore would never shoot a gun?
Eighteen year old Nahara, of Efrat, bemoaned the fact that the soldiers have forgotten the fact that we are all Jews. I wondered about it, and then I approached a female soldier posted nearby and asked her how she felt about this whole situation. She looked at me as if I fell from the moon. I explained my question again, and then on a hunch I asked her if she was Jewish. "No, I'm Russian,"began her cold reply. "They told me to come, to do this, I come and I do this."
Surprised, I approached another female soldier. Turns out she was a non--Jew from Ethiopia. Upon further examination we discovered Druze and even Arab soldiers. Prior to the expulsion of Gush Katif we questioned how we can fight "brother against brother."It seems that they are already trying to deliberately circumvent this reality;after all, in a land with such a Jewish majority, what chance is there of such a large proportion of soldiers not being Jewish? Yet how can someone who is not Jewish, who has no feelings for the Land of Israel, truly fight for it? And were those soldiers, desperate to prevent this rag--tag group of people from settling an empty hilltop that has been zoned for this very purpose for more than twenty years, fighting for the Land of Israel -- or against it? Not an easy question, and there are no easy answers.
As it was already dark, I finally returned to Efrat, with a number of youth, in an armored army vehicle. I was surely the oldest one in the truck, though by far not the oldest one who had participated. It felt like a school trip out on a four--wheel--drive excursion. But truth be told, there are no youth like true, Zionist Israelis. Their drive and determination, their feelings, and their passion -- it was palpable in that tense and bumpy ride after a tense and bumpy night. In fact, it was in such direct contrast to the impassive soldiers sitting watching us, with blank looks on their faces. The soldiers couldn't care less. The fact that at every rally, demonstration, and social action event these young people show up in such huge numbers to demonstrate, to show their allegiance and to protect their country;it was true Zionist youth like them who created our past and it is true Zionist youth like them who hold our hope for the future. Who would you want fighting for your country?
Views expressed by the author do not
necessarily reflect those of israelinsider.
 
|
|
|
|
Click on the blue headline to read a Talkback comment and respond to it. Click on the  icon to send a private email to the talkback writer. The icon appears only if the writer has decided to be contacted. If no popup window appears, please make sure your popup blocker allows israelinsider.com.
|
|
| |
|
|
