June 5, 2005

Alison on Aliyah:  No Longer “Disengaged”

            A few days ago I made my first real political commitment in 28 years:  I purchased the infamous (at least in Israel) “orange bracelet.”  It looks a lot like the Lance Armstrong “Live Strong” bracelet, and I’m told there are at least a zillion other colors, standing for at least a zillion other causes, in America these days.  Over here there is only one – the one that stands for support of Gush Katif and the other settlements that are on the brink of expulsion and dismantlement.  The writing on the bracelet is short and sweet:  “A Jew does not expel another Jew.”

            I have never considered myself a political person, or even one who is more than mildly interested in politics.  I used to take pains not to watch or read the news, convinced it would be more depressing than worthwhile, and I was rather painfully ignorant of the daily goings-on in my (American) surroundings.  I was also never one for “causes,” or for showing my support for anything in a public manner.  I never wore the red ribbon; never tied the yellow string on my car antenna; never, NEVER attached the American flag pin to any of my lapels.  It wasn’t necessarily that these aren’t good causes; I just never felt so passionately about any of them that I had the need to shout my support to everyone in such a brazen way.

            But Israel, and becoming an Israeli citizen, has fundamentally changed me in other ways.  Keeping on top of the daily news is simply too critical to not do here, and I am frequently filled with a sense that I am—that Israel is—at the center of something too big to ignore.  I don't know why the world seems to find it necessary to concentrate so intensely on what goes on in this tiny strip of land no larger than New Jersey, but it happens nonetheless.  The current struggle over Sharon’s disengagement plan is literally history in the making, and we live it here every day.  There are protests all over the country at least weekly, and every time I am in Jerusalem I see a new crop of posters plastered on walls throughout the city and fresh banners hanging from apartment porch railings.  Burning tires on major interstates seems to be the current protest “method of choice,” and traffic these days is totally unpredictable from moment to moment because of it.

            There is no doubt among Israelis that the next three months will irreparably change the face of Israel and the course of her existence.  Many are expecting a fairly serious civil war of sorts:  Jew against Jew, settler against soldier, politicians against their public.  Soldiers have begun training and preparing for the expected “uniquenesses” of their upcoming mission:  how to handle a mother who barricades herself in her house with a baby to her chest; how to drag a man away from his son’s gravestone.  All of my friends have already received word that they will be called up for reserve duty in August, to take over the current daily jobs of soldiers who will be implementing the disengagement.

            So why did I decide to spend my hard-earned five shekels on an orange bracelet?  It certainly wasn’t for a fashion statement, and in fact I have become quite self-conscious because of it.  Going to class every day in an extremely left-wing environment does not put me at ease when I am making such a public, against-the-majority statement on my left wrist.  Yes, going public with one’s political views is never easy, but I simply couldn’t ignore this one.  The battle has been so fierce—with one side saying it’s inevitable, concessions will have to be made sooner or later; the other saying that giving up land will only add fuel to the fire and redouble energies to “wipe us out” completely.  I suppose they’re both right, that both compromise on our part and renewed efforts to extinguish us are equally inevitable.  No one seems to know what will really happen, and no one has any real idea of what this famed disengagement is supposed to accomplish.  Sharon has been decidedly vague about his expectations, and there don’t seem to be any illusions that this will provide an end to our troubles.

            And yet the slight majority of our politicians have decided to go ahead with it, to expel these people from the only real homes they have known and a community and life that they have literally built from scratch.  A choice has been made to move the border that much closer inward, which means that mortar shells like the thousands that have fallen on Neve Dekalim in recent years will now reach communities and city centers within Israel proper.  Should this plan officially go through, the message will be loud and clear:  if you fight long and hard, and terrorize us enough, sure, we’ll give you some land.

            It’s a scary thought, and my little orange bracelet doesn’t serve to calm my fears.  I was at Qumran a few weeks ago, visiting the site of the Dead Sea scrolls.  A friend of mine mentioned in passing that back in their day, the group of Jews who created those scrolls were considered by everyone around them to be zealots, crazy, stupid, and perhaps even dangerous in their determination.  Today we credit them as some of the most important figures in Jewish history.

            So what if these “crazies” out on the beaches of Gush Katif are really our pioneers?  What if their religious conviction is what will ultimately save us as a people and as a society?  Perhaps all of us over here in Israel are really just zealots, just “holding down the fort” for the rest of worldwide Jewry.  Perhaps we are protecting the Jewish homeland for all the rest of you, and perhaps Gaza needs to be protected for us.  I don’t know who’s right and who’s crazy, and perhaps I’m a little bit of both.  I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.