To the editor:
Almost every morning at 9:00 Eastern, my cousin Zohar calls from Israel. She sounds anxious and speaks quickly. Like many mothers, Jewish and Palestinian, she is existing in a twilight zone of uncertainty. Her four sons, 17-38 years old, have been called up and she knows for sure that at least two of them are sitting in tanks on the Gaza border waiting with the world for the next step in this hideous war.
Zoe is a sabra. Her family has been in Israel for five generations, from Palestine to the modern state. Her husband’s family has been living on their land in a moshav north of Tel Aviv for as many generations and with even more distinction. They have served their time as soldiers in the Israel Defense Force. They know war and they know tenuous peace and they prefer the latter. They understand that the quality of their lives and those of their children and grandchildren, of neighbors and fellow farmers depends on the space that some form of coexistence provides. They also know that Israel is surrounded by enemies who openly declare their sole purpose is in driving the Jews into the sea.
There isn’t much I can do for Zoe. I love her and Yaram, her husband and their families. I try to bear witness and provide a sounding board. Some days, Zoe wails, “We have no country anymore. They have taken us from G-d.” Other times, she is angry and so disappointed in the leadership and government that she once trusted and supported. Often, she is simply quiet, a highly unusual state for this dynamic activist. That’s when she needs me most. We sit together and are quiet. 5,470 miles separate us, but our broken hearts blend in the silence.
So many things get evoked. I have always, since I was a young girl first introduced to Israel by my Zionist father, known unequivocally that Israel is more than a safety net for Jews in the diaspora. Israelis pay the price so we can live in other countries and among other cultures with a certain sense of confidence. Israelis sacrificed much in the early years of achieving and holding on to statehood. The concept of “never agin” would Jews face a genocide enabled us to proceed in all areas of assimilated life across the globe. Sure we met resistance and rejection, antisemitism and even hatred, but we had a little smile in our pockets, always. You can insult me and scare me, you can threaten me and reject me, you can try to break apart the ancient centuries of community we have embraced, but you can’t eliminate us as long as Israel is strong, fierce, independent, and resilient.
That’s now the problem, Zoe recognizes that Israel is not invincible. She must ask herself how much is worth it? No time for existential pondering or righteous indignation; we are down to a fear so deep, so replete in our souls, that the thoughts that the very survival of a Jewish state is in jeopardy are more than we can bear. We had put all of our chips in the miracle of a homeland that could rescue us from ever being targeted again.
If the goal of terrorism is to cut off one at the knees and to implant doubt and unmitigated shock and fear, Hamas has succeeded. Never in 68 years have I heard abject fear in Zoe’s voice. She hasn’t lost her signature chutzpah, but she is cowed by the vastness and brutality of the Oct. 7 attacks. Nightmares often carry that sensation of being surrounded and confused and panicked. This is the reality of today in Israel. There doesn’t seem to be that charge-ahead, everything-will-be-OK mood anywhere. Too many losses, too many funerals, a beating that has left Israelis and worldwide Jews stunned.
I think most of us knew that there would be initial horror and condemnation, but that it would turn and Israel would be held once again to a double standard. I think we didn’t expect it to happen so fast. Like Holocaust deniers, there is nothing as maddening or crazy-making as distortion of what has really happened. It is a cruel irony of history that this is how Jews are treated. There are always two sides to everything, but it is inevitable that Jews will be blamed in an unbalanced framework. It’s not to whine or act like a victim, it’s just the way human nature has evolved. We can contemplate and debate and try to rationalize it, but the worm is turning and no matter which way Israel goes, her people and our people are in a terrible bind.
It brings me back to Zoe. She is strong. Her name means strength. She is smart. She is determined to do whatever she can to help all the sons and daughters of Israel. Last week, she organized hundreds of families to cook and bake for Shabbat. She had them bring everything to the moshav and then she rode with volunteer drivers from command post to check point. She said that if her own president had failed them, Israelis would band together and carry on. Still, she is overwhelmingly sad. Sad for those who have been tortured and those who have died. She worries about the outcome, both in a personal and national way. She grieves for the Palestinian mothers who have lost husbands and parents and children. She grieves for invincibility, but knows that painstaking strength is the only way through this.
Sincerely,
Ina Resnikoff
Swampscott
