printTHE FOLLOWING EVOCATIVE PIECE was written by a special young woman, my daughter. She traveled to Israel with the common political perspective, imbibed in insulated, privileged, propagandized North America—and shared by left-liberals and paleos alike. Once in Israel, she underwent a transformative experience.
Most individuals who write about Israel, pro and con, should not be doing so, as they have never experienced the place or the people. I’m proud of my girl. Aside a talent for spare, strong writing, she had the heart and the head to rethink received ideology when confronted by something far more powerful and persuasive.
Impressions From Jerusalem
By Nicky
My idea of a militarized society was that of the USA. Soldiers and armed guards are visible only where security is needed. They are stern, unsmiling, erect. They signify danger and command respect, wordlessly and humorlessly.
In Canada, my only experience of the military is the odd soldier in fatigues on the street, perhaps on the bus: an object of casual consideration. I view him with the privileged gaze of a Western pacifist, not obliged to look him in the eye. I think: “Why, friend, what are you doing in that uniform? What are you afraid of? What did the government tell you to make you believe you should don those clothes?” I don’t feel served or protected by this soldier because I don’t need his service or protection. My daily movements are free and unfettered; I am an independent Western woman. I cannot relate to my soldier. It saddens me that all I can summon for him is private condescension and the thought that my tax dollars could be better spent than on his meager salary.
I was certain that this attitude would be seamlessly transplanted to Israel. I was wrong; it simply would not stick. Not because I’m a Jew. I didn’t even consider myself a Zionist when I walked through the streets of Jerusalem: I still did not understand Israel, even then. And even now, after an intensive ten-day tour of the tiny country and its borders, I can barely bring myself to discuss it. There is too much history to learn, to read, too much to experience, to see, to understand with one’s full attention in order to speak of Israel, let alone flippantly as many who haven’t experienced it do.
You cannot fathom 3000 years of history, and yet there is rubble from that time, from the Temple’s first destruction. Here and there soldiers stand amidst the rubble. Jerusalem is beautiful but she is neither grand nor ornate. Even the Western Wall appears fragile. Only the Dome of the Rock shines gold and blue in a city of calcified limestone. A soldier steps graciously out of my camera’s view as I photograph one stretch of wall and rubble. At the Holy City’s entrance, a couple of young soldiers stand between the two opposing flows of traffic. They look into our faces, our eyes, their guns slung low, pointed to the ground. They are at ease, relaxed. One of them smiles warmly. A group of children scampers past, unafraid and wholly indifferent to the soldiers. Already this experience is markedly different from those I’ve had at the US and Canadian borders, or customs at Heathrow, London, where I have been treated like trash more than once. And yet I don’t doubt that these young boys could protect me. I feel safe and relaxed here amongst these soldiers.
THE HOLY CITY IS FULL OF YOUNG ISRAELI SOLDIERS. When they enter a museum together, they leave their guns in a pile at the entrance, guarded by one or two watchful but friendly soldiers who will smile for our cameras and bark no orders on how far to stand from the pile of guns. Many know each other from training and though they walk with different brigades you often see a handful stray for a moment to greet one other. They receive no reprimand for straying. No one barks commands. Gathered in groups, they sit or stand, laugh, smoke cigarettes and talk and text on cell phones. They are unabashedly affectionate: embracing and back-slapping; their faces light up at seeing one another. These are boys and girls in their late teens and early 20s. I doubt I will ever see youngsters this age behaving this way in North America. That would be “like, gay or something.”
Even in a group one can access solitude instantly while walking through Jerusalem. It isn’t unusual to fall silent mid conversation. Her history commands respect and quiet reflection. The closer you get to the Western Wall, the lower the tones, the greater the quiet. Everyone approaches slowly, atheist, agnostic, believer alike. Religious or not, you feel its power. Birds nestle in its crevices. They watch the people below and I feel certain even they know the Wall is special. It is fortified by a band of humans teaming at its base, palms and foreheads flat against the stone, as though holding it up. You approach slowly, your eyes travel through space and time, fixed on the wall. First you touch the wall, then you kiss your fingers. You gently wedge your note in with the rest, hoping it is profound, meaningful enough to be worthy of its stony recipient; worthy of its fallen defenders.
You are not speaking at all now, nobody is. You can only hear the sound of softly praying lips and of children hushed by admonishing parents. You do not turn your back on the Wall, but retreat slowly, facing it. Along the periphery, where the men and women’s sections are segregated, lone individuals, eyes covered, pray silently. Some are crying. Among the crowd, the elderly are seated, reading from Hebrew prayer books, mouthing the words in silence.
THE ISLAMIC CALL TO PRAYER booms through the quiet five times a day, everyday, even at 4am, with militaristic precision and pitch. Several mosques perform the prayer, one after the other. You cannot hear anything else for a full five minutes at a time, for up to thirty minutes a session. The speaker crackles from the distortion of the blaring volume. Secular tourists need to yell to hear one another, helping to shatter the erstwhile calm, easily distracted and pulled from their meditation. Tour guides turn off their mikes patiently and wait.
The worshipers at the wall cover their ears and pray more intensely, still silent. The soldiers, unmoved, stand sentinel at the ancient ruins.
die appel val nie ver van die boom af nie!
A well-written snapshot of Jerusalem at the Wall. I have also experienced Israel – longed for the warm relationships people can have there, and despaired at the rough edges of that society. The US and Israel are very different societies, but at the same time they are very similar. Good and bad, genius and idiocy, permeate both societies. The Israelis are what we used to be – bold, decisive, insightful – there are only pockets of that left in the US. But those are currently under siege.
It is remarkable that a man such as our President, who has accomplished so little and who has no understanding of world affairs, is so brazen as to try to push around a people who have been fighting for their lives for 62 years under the Israeli banner against a foe of tremendous size and wealth that lives by the standards of the 14th century. The Israelis need to shrug off American aid in order to move forward. When the US begins to treat Israel as one of the most important and powerful ally that it has, then relations can warm up. That won’t happen with this President.
Well and darn well written. My congratulations to your daughter for her insight. Israel, indeed, needs more such insight in the rest of the world.
She’s quite the writer. You must be proud.
Nicky’s narrative touches the soul in a way quite unusual for one so young. The reader does not need to be Jewish to understand her description of the interaction of a people to each other and to their God of justice, love, and forgiveness. The history and historical places of these people is of importance and value not only to them, but to the entire world. Why? It is important because if a people who have suffered an unimaginable past, yet who are optimistic of the future cannot inhabit even the tiniest piece of land for themselves, then what hope is there for all the rest who, as the Romans practiced, can be divided and conquered?
I believe one’s soul does not need blaring speakers, constant reminders, traumatic punishments, or virtual slavery to be saved. Rather, a simple, personal conversation with one’s God suffices.
Nicky, keep your eyes open, your mind objective and alert, and your heart soft for your friends and for those forced to act inhumanely.
Your daughter writes well.
Written well and concise, emotion invoking without superfluous detail, Visual detail clearly defined. Well done. Robert
Ilana,
I have a twenty two year old son that I would like to introduce to your daughter. You have any more like this one?
[Only one. Grin]
Touching on Haym’s comment, I would like to mention Deuteronomy 15:6
“For the LORD your God will bless you as he has promised, and you will lend to many nations but will borrow from none. You will rule over many nations but none will rule over you.”
So what does that say about borrowing money from Obama? Israel at 62 has to depend on itself, support itself, and stand for itself.
Nicky,
I enjoyed your piece Impressions of Jerusalem. Some of your observations lined up exactly with mine. Initially it is quite stiking to see how the Israeli soldiers are integrated into society at large. There were some on our team who would occasionally pick up soldiers hitchiking.
The sense I had when I traveled to Israel (on business) was comfort and safety. At times I had to remind myself of where I was. After all this was Israel the country that has literally been at war its entire modern existence. I have the fondest of memories of my times in Israel and would love to return some day.
Perhaps the reason for the easy interaction between civilian and soldier in Israel is that in Israel, facing an existential threat every day, the soldier has a legitimate mission of protection. In contrast, the U.S. security apparatus is more a threat to the traditional freedoms of its citizens rather than any real protection. Someone smarter than I should derive an equation that evaluates the legitimate need for particular security measures by quantifying the uneasiness they provoke in those notionally protected and the aloofness of the notional protectors.
When you’d stated that you were about to publish a piece written by a special young woman, I’d never, ever believed she was your own daughter!
I, too, have taken “a walk” through East Jerusalem, the day after Christmas, 1992. Walking alone, I entered the Old City through the Damascus Gate and exited through the Jaffa Gate, near the Tower of David. I was very relieved to see the young (much younger than I) Israeli soldier at the exit, his comrades’ guns placed in a pile under his watch.
Like your daughter, I believed that though the soldier was very young, he was up to the job of defense (should it have been required.)
You must be very proud of Nicky.
Wonderful. Just like her mother, we have another Jewish supremacist in the making. This article is not only a complete snore, but it hashes out more of the same tired old rhetoric we see all too often on this blog. That is, Israel and Jews are particularly worthy in contradistinction with the rest of humanity. Ilana, why must you continually pimp your heritage in an attempt to set yourself above everyone else? It’s so tedious and elitist. Grow up.
Nicky,
Any of us that have been to Israel had to be smiling and nodding our heads while reading your beautifully written piece.
DAN’s comment above brings out a concern of mine about heritage and its importance. David Yeagley on his blog, “Bad Eagle” a few months ago, described one of his female students crying to him that she envied his Comanche Indian Heritage. She was a White woman without a racial history and therefore rudderless. Dr. Yeagley is very proud of both the White and Indian aspects of his heritage and recognizes both the good and bad aspects of both races. I have an almost completely Celtic heritage myself; it’s my excuse for when I screw up and my bragging rights for when I do something right. My father was to my knowledge the first ‘heavy equipment operator’ in New Mexico, somewhere at the beginning of the 1900’s. In itself, the fact that the boss bought a new Caterpillar bulldozer and had his youngest mule skinner learn how to operate it is not a big deal but the knowledge of my ancestor’s background enriches my life and adds meaning. Others on this blog have mentioned their heritage with pride as well. I pity the ones who have not retained theirs.
Dan’s comment:
Sadly, the more excellence attempts to blossom, the greater the opposition from haters.
Wonderful. Just like her mother. We have another Jewish writer who isn’t concerned with the anti-Jewish bigots out there. It seems that they have been sniping at the Jews since old testament times and the Jews are still there. Surrounded by more than 10 or 20 times their number at home and by billions of enemies worldwide. Starting with that dolt we have in the White House. I’m no Jew and don’t even agree with the Israelis all the time but I know intestinal fortitude when I see it, whether in troops in the field or little girls who write. If I didn’t know whether or not to support Israel all I would have to do would be to lok at the losers who are their haters.
I was going to let Dan’s comments slide by….but you often wonder at the motives of those who try to make lemons out of lemonade.