Where were you on the day Yitzhak Rabin was murdered?
This is a question every Israeli can answer. We all remember that night, November 4, 1995. A big rally took place in the heart of Tel-Aviv, under the title “Yes to peace, No to violence.” In his speech there, Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin talked about his heart's desire for peace with our neighbors. He talked about his 27 years in the Israeli army, during which he fought hard when he knew there was no chance for peace. “Now,” he said as the crowd cheered, “there is a chance for peace.”
Not everyone agreed with Rabin. Some thought he was willing to give too much for peace, others believed we shouldn't even talk to our enemies because they didn't want peace. But with Israel being a democracy, everyone was allowed to speak their mind, even against the government's policy. It took one man, one gun and three bullets to put an end to this democratic discourse.
Yigal Amir, a Jewish Israeli, lurked in the shadows, waited for Rabin to finish his speech and head back to his car, and changed us all forever. He took another man's life, just because he disagreed with his political view, and did not believe he was doing right by the people of Israel.
I was only five then, but I remember exactly where I was in that moment that changed Israel's history. I was lying in my parent's bed as they were watching the rally on the news. I remember my father gasp, my mother cry and both of them trying to comprehend the announcement just made by the anchor. One moment he was up on stage, speaking of how “Violence erodes the basis of Israeli democracy,” and the next he was rushed to the hospital where he died soon after.
We all remember where we were that day, but sometimes it seems like we forget, just as easily.
In the summer of 2014, as our soldiers fought in Gaza while rockets were fired at Israel, we all forgot November 4th. Facebook walls were filled with swears and bad words, and the streets were filled with protesters, yelling at their brothers and blaming them for ruining our country. “Murderers!” “Traitors!” “I wish your mother had had an abortion!” “Just fall off a cliff already!” We all turned on each other, just when our solidarity was needed the most. Sure, as the days passed by we all joined forces in making contributions to our soldiers, but the arguments, sometimes violent, were always there.
Israel is 66 and still fights for its right to exist. 66 years after our home was founded, we still haven't been able to reach that desired peace. Just like 19 years ago, we all want peace, but we were never able to agree on the way to achieve it. Some of us support our current Prime Minister and his ways, others think he is making every mistake possible. Sometimes, we lose our ways and let politics define us and our relations with one another. But now, when we are wiser and more experienced and know that peace is not as close as we wish it to be, now is the time when we must be more united than ever.
It is so hard out there, in this hostile world or ours. This is why we all must always remember November 4, 1995. We have too many enemies outside for us to turn against each other. We must remember the democratic values upon which our country was founded. 19 years later, we haven't been able to achieve the peace Rabin longed for, but we can maintain peace from within, by remembering the day he died, and show him (and ourselves) how we didn't let democracy die after all.
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