Mixed messages. How does one define this term? Certainly, a current example is what is happening between Israel and its strongest ally, the United States.
These recent weeks have shown that the hitherto unbreakable relationship between the two countries is at risk. There can be no doubt that this alliance is of enormous importance, not only to Israel and the US also but to the entire free world. With its ability to become a nuclear entity (if not already) and the close relationship Iran has built with Russia and China, surely the Western world, led by the US, should be focusing on the source of evil and terrorism, namely Iran. It should also be recognized that Israel is in Iran’s direct firing line, and it is Israel that endeavors to prevent Iran’s proxies, Hamas and Hezbollah, from gaining strength.
Iran has accused Israel of killing Brig.-Gen. Mohammad Reza Zahedi, a senior commander in Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. Although Israel has not confirmed it, it appears that Iran has received a strong message from Israel, which is especially significant after the failings of Oct. 7.
The US’s instant reaction to Zahedi’s assassination, stating it had not played any part in the death of Zahedi, is disappointing. Yet again, the US points to the weakness of the West, leaving Israel alone to confront “the head of the octopus” – former prime minister Naftali Bennett’s description of Iran in 2018.
Today, the West is in dire need of a Churchill, a leader who confronts rather than appeases the enemy.
Mixed messages between Israeli Jews and the Diaspora
Then there are the mixed messages playing out between the Jews in Israel and the Jews living elsewhere. How does each of them react to attacks on Jews, whether here or there? The current war raises questions that appear to repeat themselves, specifically when we experience danger.
These thoughts especially come to mind when speaking to friends in the United Kingdom, a country where, together with far too many other countries, Jews are suffering a rise in antisemitism, the likes of which have not been seen since the 1930s and 1940s. Simultaneously, we in Israel are experiencing the horror of a war that many feel is the worst conflict in the history of our beloved country.
How do we Jews, living here or there, share our respective fears when speaking to each other?
At one level, understandably, there is a need for our Diaspora relatives and friends to express concern as to how we Israelis are coping with this most disturbing and challenging of all wars. My sense is that the weekly conversation I have with a longstanding UK friend is similar to those of my readers who speak regularly to friends and family abroad. The conversation begins with my friend expressing disquiet and sadness at the horrific situation faced by Israelis today. “How are you managing?” she asks. Rather than responding to her question, I find myself immediately turning the situation around by stating how deeply upsetting it is to hear of the gruesome rise in antisemitism with which the Jews in the UK are confronted. In one-to-one terms, it feels as if each of us is driven to convey the message that, however bad it might be for me, it must be worse for you.
These conversations bring back memories of 2001, when I was in South Africa on a speaking tour organized by the Women’s International Zionist Organization (WIZO). The visit culminated with my participation in the so-called United Nations World Conference against Racism, an international gathering that evolved into a racist conference against Israel and the Jewish people. It was there that the BDS movement was born.
At the same time, Israel was enduring the painful period of the Second Intifada that followed the breakdown of peace talks between then-prime minister Ehud Barak and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat, who refused to accept any concept of peace with Israel. It was a frightening period that saw suicide bombers blowing up restaurants and buses, murdering students at the Hebrew University, and numerous other brutal, fatal terror attacks against Israelis.
Back to South Africa, where my WIZO Johannesburg colleagues would not allow me to walk outside even during the day; they said it was unsafe. On one occasion, while sitting around a table at the home of a WIZO member, the conversation turned to their friends who had been physically assaulted – some even murdered – while attempting to enter the garage of their high-fenced, protected homes. Then one colleague said to me, “And you must be very afraid, living in Israel?” To which I immediately responded, “At home, I can walk anywhere on my own, even at midnight, without fear.”
It wasn’t until returning to Israel that I began to think through why I and my South African friends, all of us experiencing a dangerous period in day-to-day living, reacted as we did.
Today, while we know of those living in the Diaspora who dismiss the frightening reality of antisemitism, claiming it doesn’t affect them or their way of life, similarly, there are many Israelis, including myself, who firmly believe that the only safe place for Jews to live, even at a time of war, is within the one Jewish state. Could this be viewed by those outside as Israelis not recognizing the dangers of living here?
What is it that necessitates the need to point out that however bad the situation is in our respective country of residence, it is always worse somewhere else? Is there a need to justify to ourselves why we live where we live?
Could right be on the side of the Israelis? According to a recent survey, we learned that Israel is the fifth-happiest country in the world. At face value, this seems strange. Why did the Israeli interviewees respond as they did?
The survey’s prime question related to “social support.” There is something about the Jewish way of life that places great emphasis on supporting one another, as is currently witnessed during this period of war, with volunteers in abundance. Or could compulsory military service from the age of 18, with men serving 32 months and women 24, plus having to be available for reserve duties until the age of 40, contribute to the need to make the most of every moment and enjoy life to the fullest?
The year 2024 marks 26 years since I made Israel my home. I vividly remember when, during the first few months of living here, my husband and I returned home quite late one evening and saw young people about to start an evening of entertainment at a nearby nightclub. How were they coping with late nights and early mornings? Was it because these youngsters were or will be the defenders of the one and only Jewish state?
It was author Margaret Lee Runbeck, an educator and activist, who said, “Happiness is not a station you arrive at but a manner of traveling.” The history of the Jewish people is one of being expelled and annihilated over the centuries. Today, we are privileged to live in a world that includes Israel, the country ready to absorb, care for, and defend the Jewish people – a clear, unadulterated message for every Jew, irrespective of the place called home.
The writer is chairperson of the Israel, Britain and the Commonwealth Association.