I want to bring you into the everyday world of Israel’s existential war. Existential war: Fighting to survive, to not be wiped out.
Excuse my chutzpah, but I want much more than that. I want the right to enjoy a normal, peaceful existence — I do not want neighbors whose goal is to annihilate us.
How close would you go to areas that weren’t evacuated but are theoretically within rocket range? You must ask yourself: Will there be air-raid sirens while I’m driving? While I’m there? An appointment at Ceders-Sinai: Should I go? I’ll wear clothes that won’t get too messed up if I have to jump out of the car and lie on the ground with my hands over my head.
These are our daily dilemmas. Fears. Stresses. Who accepts this in a recognized, sovereign country?
Excuse my chutzpah, but I am tired of hearing we have the right to defend ourselves against terrorist rockets, missiles, drones and anti-tank missiles. I am tired of being forced to play defense until we are beaten down enough to win a short-lived international clearance to fight back. Not to win. Just to push them back until the next time.
Israel left Lebanon in 2000 and Gaza in 2005. We did not start this war.
So I have to ask: Why are we still subjected to bombardments — whether sporadic (Lebanon) or routine (Gaza) almost from the day we left? Not just since Oct. 7.
It’s very simple.
They want to kill us. They are terrorists who want to kill Jews.
Fear of an invasion like the one in the south on Oct. 7 led to the evacuation of more than 60,000 residents along the northern border. Even when that threat subsided, residents didn’t return. The north has been subjected to deadly and destructive attacks, especially from anti-tank missiles that have a range of nine miles – too close to shoot down or to take cover. These “internal refugees” have been living in crowded hotel rooms and guest houses while all attempts at diplomatic solutions have failed.
That’s not a bad thing. Negotiations, withdrawals, U.N. agreements never gave us anything, but it gave these terrorist organizations time to regroup, restock and grow in numbers. They do not honor agreements. They do not want neighborly relations. They do not want us.
Why is it so hard to understand that?
The Israeli army is finally taking aggressive action that will hopefully enable residents to return:
To their homes, if those structures are still standing and livable;
To their farms, if their livestock and crops haven’t been burned to the ground;
To their schools, if they are not afraid to ride a school bus;
To their places of work, if they still have a job, if they haven’t filed for bankruptcy.
Sound extreme? Picture Beverly Hills, approximate population 32,000 according to the 2020 U.S. Census Bureau. Empty. Homes, shops and schools deserted. Visions of Coronavirus lockdown but with the addition of deadly rocket fire. Some buildings have crumbled onto the expansive sidewalks, insides blown through plate-glass windows onto Wilshire Blvd. Or the Fairfax district (12,500) with the Farmers Market clock tower now rubble among the stalls. The Grove a ghost town.
Remember hiding under desks in the 1950s and early ‘60s? Now Israeli children who ride school buses in border areas are drilled in hiding under the seats or bending down away from the windows while covering their heads. They have 15 seconds. If they are in a “30-second” designated area, the adults riding with them can try to get them off the bus, away from vehicles, and make sure they lie on the ground and cover their heads. Thirty seconds. Would you send your kids on a school bus under these conditions?
We don’t want the “right to defend ourselves.” We demand the right to live without having to defend ourselves daily.
We don’t want the “right to defend ourselves.” We demand the right to live without having to defend ourselves daily.
Excuse my chutzpah for wanting the new year to be one of enduring security and a normal existence. A new year that will see the return of the hostages, the return of our citizens to their homes, the return of our reservists to their families.
Shana Tova.
Galia Miller Sprung moved to Israel from Southern California in 1970 to become a pioneer farmer and today she is a writer and editor.