“Cause I’m leavin’ on a jet plane; don’t know when I’ll be back again; oh, babe, I hate to go.” (John Denver, 1969)
“I’m leaving.” She said it matter of factly, almost calmly, but the words froze me where I stood.
“You mean you’re going on vacation, like every second Israeli?” I guessed – or hoped.
She chuckled, but the smile quickly vanished from her face. “No, not on vacation. I’m getting out – for good. I’ve had enough; I can’t take it anymore.”
I first met Donna years ago at a conference of bereaved parents. Like our family, she had made aliyah with great enthusiasm and great expectations. She had carved out a new life for herself here, but that life changed in an instant when tragedy struck. Her daughter was on border patrol in the Old City when two terrorists rushed at her.
One was killed by a fellow soldier, but the other succeeded in stabbing her several times before he was wounded. She died at the scene from her wounds, and Donna never fully recovered.
“What is it that’s gotten to you?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“What isn’t wrong! I don’t even know where to start!” she exclaimed.
“Well, start somewhere. Tell me what has you so up in arms,” I said.
Why a woman wants to leave Israel
“Okay. Let’s begin with the government. Is there anyone in this country who respects our politicians, who thinks they have a plan and know what to do about this horror film that we’re living?!”
I tried to calm her down a bit. “You know, it’s rare that Israelis ever agree with the government’s decisions.”
“But this time, it’s not just about complaining,” she said. “Now it’s existential; it’s life and death. And we’re so divided; we fight among ourselves about everything! Especially the war – how we should be fighting it, and who should be fighting it! I can’t understand how people could refuse to serve in a life-and-death situation.”
“Well, Donna, there are people who have a different religious outlook than others when it comes to military duty.”
“Please, you’re a rabbi. Doesn’t the Torah – and God – teach that life is the highest value? Didn’t the heroes of the Torah go to war when the nation was threatened? And answer me something: If the Kohen gadol [high priest] could put aside his spiritual purity to bury a dead person when necessary, shouldn’t even the ‘holiest’ people do whatever is necessary to save live individuals?!”
And then Donna began to cry uncontrollably. It took several minutes before she calmed down and could utter just two words: “He’s out.”
“Who’s out? What do you mean?”
Her face was laced with pain. “My daughter’s murderer, that’s who. They set him free, just like that. So much for life sentences, so much for justice. He got a hero’s welcome back in his village; they’ll probably name a street for him and shower him with money.
“You probably didn’t hear about it or see it on the news. The media don’t give a damn about the victims or how this kills us for a second time. They only talk about the hostages and incessantly show the crowds who mindlessly, endlessly scream, ‘NOW! NOW!’ which is just code for ‘give the terrorists everything they want,’ no matter what the price.
“Whatever happened to the Israel that refused to surrender to killers?”
“But how can you leave when your beloved daughter is buried here?” I asked.
“My daughter’s body is here, but her soul is with me wherever I go.”
“And where will you go? Do you really think any place on the planet is safe and secure for Jews, especially Israelis? You watch the news; you must know that the haters now infect virtually every country on Earth. Just last week, the Maldives – one of the exotic get-away escapes that Israelis love – became the latest country to ban us. Do you really believe you’ll get better treatment out there than here?”
“At least there, it won’t be my own people who are putting the knife in my back.”
I struggled to find something to say to Donna that would give her some comfort and re-route the river of anguish and angst that was flowing through her veins.
“You know,” I said, “there are really two Israels, and you are seeing only one right now – the one with a harsh, even ugly, face. But the same Israeli who cuts you off in traffic and risks life and limb to gain one car length on you is the same Israeli who will stop to help you if you get a flat tire.
“The same Israeli who snubs you and struggles to even say ‘hello’ when passing you on the street will tell you her life story the moment you establish some mutual connection. And the same Israeli who totally disagrees with every opinion you have will hug you passionately at the cemetery on Yom Hazikaron.
“There is a famous adage about two words in Hebrew that share the same three letters: ayin, gimmel, and nun. If you place the ayin at the end of the word, it spells ‘nega,’ or ‘plague.’ But if you place the ayin at the front of the word, it spells ‘oneg’ or ‘pleasure.’ It all depends on where you direct the ayin – which means ‘your eye.’
“Yes, Israel is now in crisis mode, to be sure. But we have been there before and lived to tell the tale. We cannot be apathetic or complacent, but we also cannot be fatalistic. Governments come and go, despite their stubborn refusal to move on; and slowly but surely, there will be a meeting of the minds regarding the sharing of the war burden.
“And while thousands of non-observant soldiers are clamoring to wear tzitzit, more and more haredi men are seeking to enlist. The hostages will eventually come home, and we will outlive Hamas and the haters just as we outlasted the great empires of the past. And you surely want to be a part of that.”
I could see that Donna was weakening just a bit, so I added a final plea. “Give us another chance, please. We need people like you here, in the thick of the fight. We need your energy, your passion. Plus, I know you’re not independently wealthy. At least wait until the airfares go significantly down before you plan your escape.”
Somehow, I know that Donna will be around for a long, long time.
The writer is the director of the Jewish Outreach Center of Ra’anana. rabbistewart@gmail.com