The Israeli Fatalism

Yesterday, I got to catch up with a friend I hadn't spoken with in months, and as I was regaling her with tales about life in Jerusalem, she asked a very interesting question that I think I've danced around in previous posts but haven't ever directly addressed before.

I described to her daily scenes that are almost mediocre in a typical Israeli's life, such as the stopping of traffic for the blowing up of suspicious packages, people toting guns up and down the streets as if it were the most normal thing, and soldiers patrolling the Old city streets.

She then asked me that with all the conflict surrounding Jerusalem, if there is a sense of fatalism that permeates the attitudes of the residents here.

This idea of fatalism is very interesting in the context of Israel. The philosophy of fatalism to me implies an almost defeatist attitude because it is being resigned to fate. I understand how any non-Israeli would think this way about Israel. The omnipresence of metal detectors, checkpoints and security guards are frequent reminders of the potential for dangerous situations to arise at any moment. And the media is a constant barrage of images around the conflict.

Like my tour guide in the Golan said: life is hard in Israel because the people here are perpetually reminded that they have to fight to exist on this land, but that's just the way it is. Life moves on.

I would say that Israelis accept that they must fight to survive, but I do not believe that they are resigned to this fact. Rather, it is a sense of incredible nationalism and pride instilled since birth and reinforced with three years in the military that drives this unquestionable sacrifice for their country. Death is but a small part of life, and they will fight to live even if it means they might die.

It seems that while Israel is fated to fight many more battles before attaining the chimera of peace, Israelis are hardly succumbing to others to predetermine its fate.

Most Israelis I've talked to are jaded by the idea of compromise and peace any time soon. In fact, Arab-Israelis and Palestinians are also disenchanted by the prospects of peace within their own government as well as in Israel. Like I've said before, it has become a zero-sum game. Terrorists and extremists on both sides continuously doom any hopes for peace.

Israelis seem to think it is fate that Israel will always be antagonized by the surrounding Arab and/or Muslim countries, but they will not surrender without a tough fight. And as history has proven, they sure can hold their own for such a tiny country.

"It is good to die for one's country"

A few days ago, on my walk back from Ulpan to the dormitories for my ritual afternoon nap, I was stopped on the sidewalk by a policeman telling me I couldn't continue down the street. He told me and my friend to wait at the end of the street because there was a suspicious object underneath the seat of the bus stop. As we grumbled back to the way we'd come from, a soldier in SWAT gear came running past us carrying bomb equipment.

Here, in Israel, if you leave your bag anywhere, consider it a goner. I'd seen this in the movies, but forgot that this actually was a daily occurrence here in Israel. All those strange contained exploding sounds I hear every day from my open window finally made sense. While we waited for the explosion, we joked that in Israel, instead of telling my teacher that my dog at my homework, I could say the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) blew up my homework.

In retrospect, this could have not just been a false alarm. The bag could have actually had something dangerous in it, and this is the reality that Israelis live with every day. It was a strange experience to see how seriously the Israeli policemen took their duty to neutralize the bomb threat situation and how nonchalant and normal the locals acted toward this almost daily "nuisance".

During my weekend in the Golan Heights and the upper Galilee, we took a hike around the Tel Hai area on the way to the swimming pool at the local kibbutz. We stopped by the Roaring Lion Monument, which is a famous memorial of the Battle of Tel Hai to eight Jewish men and women who died in one of the earliest battles between Jews and Arabs. The site www.gemsinisrael.com explains:
"If the brave pioneers at the beginning of the last century had not had the fortitude to withstand the hardships of the day, the Galilee as we know it today, would never have become part of modern day Israel. "

On the monument, Trumpeldor (one of the eight Jews who died in the battle) is quoted, "It is good to die for one's country".

Then, a little further outside the monument, we stopped by another memorial for twelve soldiers who died by the kibbutz during the most recent Second Lebanon War only three summers ago. This memorial included photos of the twelve dead soldiers, and our tour guide apologized that she knew we just wanted to go swimming, but she could not just walk by without paying her respects to these soldiers. She explained that in Israel, because the army is made up of reserves, almost every Israeli you meet will know someone who died while trying to defend his/her country.

She said that unfortunately, the fight for Israel's existence did not end with the Battle of Tel Hai, and this recent memorial attested to the continuing battle towards peace.

She then apologized again if she made us sad. But then she said that this is how people lived in Israel. One minute, you could be on a jolly walk towards a cool swimming pool, and the next minute be saddened by reminders of deaths of comrades, but that wouldn't stop her from jumping into the pool anyway. Her message was that life is hard in Israel because the people here are perpetually reminded that they have to fight to exist on this land, but that's just the way it is. Life moves on.

I was really impressed and touched by her explanation, and despite the sweltering heat, I wanted to stay a little longer and read the plaques. Instead, I snapped some quick photos as the rest of the group headed along towards the beckoning pool.

This reminded me of my post a while ago where I was writing about Israeli nationalism and wrote:
"...the guy with the gun hanging precariously out of his back pocket got in [to the restaurant] remind you just how badly this country wants to exist, and just how much it fears for its existence. Desire and fear together usually don't make for the best pair, but it does make for strong nationalism. Whether this is good or bad, I have yet to decide, but I think that if anything, the country is in danger of fostering a radical or fundamentalist mentality in the pursuit of stability while in the process excluding and angering many."

At this time, I was struggling with the fact of Israel's fundamental means of existence without actually respecting the people who have sacrificed their lives for their country. Often times, as an American of Asian descent in Israel, I've never felt so unwanted in a country. Maybe it's because I'm Asian. Maybe it's because I'm obviously not Jewish.

Truth is, because I'm not Jewish, it will be nearly impossible for me to gain citizenship to Israel. Truth is, the Israeli government really doesn't care about non-Jews just as long as the Jewish people have somewhere to call home, no matter how many people they displace and discriminate against. I often have to remind myself that Israel is an ethnocracy not a democracy.

On one side, the idea of making Aliyah and finding sanctuary in a place you can call home is beautiful, and I sincerely believe that any people feeling like they have no homeland have a stronger and many times a more admirable form of nationalism and civic pride. On the other hand, one needs to remember at whose expense the country is surviving.

It's important to remember that one can be pro-Israel and still criticize its policies.

I saw Israeli nationalism as almost chauvinistic and supremist by turning a blind eye to the essential point that Israelis possess an incredible amount of pride and love for their country. This was wrong of me. Yes, I still believe that intense nationalism does not justify discrimination, but it is a passion that deserves credit for the people who believe in the right of their country so much to risk their lives for it. This is a universal sacrifice and dream-even Americans over in Iraq and Afghanistan lose their lives daily for a war that most Americans don't support. In the end, we always support the troops even if we are against the violence and the war.

I know that since I've been here, I've done a lot of complaining about just how ineffective everything seems to be around here or how frustrating and roundabout the bureaucracy is or how irritating it is to even complete the simplest tasks like figuring out the everchanging and fickle bus schedule. After listening to our guide speak so eloquently that day and having spent a month in Jerusalem, I've become resigned to the fact that there is no such thing as simple in this country. And that's just the way it is. Life moves on. Everything eventually works out, though it requires a little more patience on my part. And God knows, I could learn to be more patient.

A weekend in the Golan Heights

Some of the rubble left over from bombings during the 1967 "six day war". Most of the houses were riddled with these bullet holes and had graffiti written on the walls in both Hebrew and Arabic.

This is partly why the Golan Heights is such disputed land. (It's also militarily strategic land.) Even though all you initially see may be flat, dry plateau, there are canyons full of surprises like lush green jungle and waterfalls.

































Taking a break and catching the breeze.



















Overlooking the Israel-Syria border. The village in the distance is in Syrian territory.














I love these signs. Damascus was only 40 miles away from us. Too bad I can't get into Syria (along with several other countries) unless I conveniently lose my passport. :(