It seems not. The call for revenge overtook any other option. When no option is presented to the potential executors of a policy, then they have to carry out the will of their master. No questions asked – except a few higher ups who much later queried the execution of the war. But by then, it was all too late.
As a respite from the war, my wife and I decided to go and see some new Israeli films. It turns out that the two films we saw centered around the haredi community and its drop-outs. In one, Daniel Auerbach, the protagonist is a would-be author of a film script based on his former life as a haredi in Jerusalem and as someone who is struggling with his post-haredi identity in Tel Aviv. He is portrayed as an inchoate, hardly literate individual who throughout the film can hardly finish a sentence, can barely use his computer, typing with one or two fingers, and who lacks the stamina to sustain a relationship, even when it is thrust upon him. In short, Auerbach, who ends up crying, shows himself totally at a loss to exist on terra firma, let alone in the Land of Israel.
What was no less amazing was the fact that the film garnered such superlative praise from some of the press that we felt almost obliged to see it. The disappointment was therefore compounded by the shattering of our expectations that we were about to witness an Oscar-quality film. It was not to be. In fact, it is no spoiler to say that we would not recommend anyone to see it. The only reason I could tell as to why it attracted such glowing attention from the print media was that it fitted into the stereotype of what secular Israelis expect from their haredi neighbors. Their education, as well as their introverted, archaic lifestyle, perhaps prepares them for the world to come but is simply inadequate for this one.
The main character of Home, the other film we saw, is Yair Kaplan, played superbly by Roy Nik. Kaplan also ends up crying, but for good reason. He, too, has savored the world of yeshivot in Mea She’arim. He has seen its limitations and makes the rational decision to use his natural gifts to bring some light into the lives of the people among whom he lives. He does not want to be dependent on his super-frum in-laws, despite his wife’s entreaties, and decides to open a shop selling kosher cellphones (i.e., without access to Internet and radio).
He even receives the blessings of the local rabbinical council, which is made up of the most stringent, conservative, hide-bound element of Mea She’arim’s inhabitants. They are a mafia of sorts, speaking half in Yiddish and half in medieval Ashkenazi Hebrew. They take protection money, NIS 6,000 a month from Kaplan in an envelope, to make sure that the new business is “protected.” They are themselves protected by the police, who do not interfere with their corrupt ways even when they openly break the law. But even that does not satisfy the most ardent of these self-righteous super-Jews. At the risk of giving away spoilers, just go and see this amazingly powerful film.
All of which brought us back to the reality that faces us outside the cinema. These same prejudiced, anachronistic, misguided, and often brutish mafias will apparently be a majority in Israel in a few years’ time. The thought of which should send shudders down the spines of all decent citizens, the type who work, pay taxes, serve in the army, and raise children to live a decent life in a Jewish country. Heaven help us!
