Keren Hayesod (or United Israel Appeal) Switzerland was at the plate with two strikes. The first in their series of annual fundraisers, which brought the former French president, Nicholas Sarkozy, to Geneva, caused something of an international hullabaloo when he essentially admonished Israel for failing to make peace with the Palestinians and described the Israeli leadership as “having enclosed the Jewish state within the ramparts of Jericho.” He was paid €150,000 (or $200,000) for the privilege.
Above: Gilad Shalit speaking at the event.
The second event, held in Bern, the nation’s capital, was less dramatic – but bland. So the chance for redemption came with the third event, a reception in Zurich with an honorary guest from Israel, someone who has been in the thoughts and prayers of Jews the world over: Gilad Shalit. And redeem themselves they did.
The crowd – in the hundreds – was visibly moved when Keren Hayesod’s World Chairman, Eliezer Sandberg, began speaking about Shalit, describing him as a “symbol of solidarity”. And when Shalit took the podium, he was met with a standing ovation.
I cannot deny the thrill of seeing, in the flesh, the person who galvanized the Jewish world; who brought Jews of varying religious observance and belief together in common cause; a person whose plight was so human, it even managed to surpass the divisive talk that often dominates Israel-related discussion. This, however, refers to the feelings engendered while Shalit remained in captivity. Post freedom, the story has changed a bit, mostly due to the high price Israel paid for his freedom.
So for me last night, alongside the thrill, was an equally strong sense of discomfort. Is Shalit – currently – still a “symbol of solidarity”? Should he be presented as a “hero”? He’s certainly not a traditional hero, a description typically associated with someone doing something. Is inspiring a nation enough to achieve the status of “hero”? Many would argue, unconditionally, yes. Unfortunately the Jewish world isn’t always know for its harmony, so inspiring people across boundaries is no easy feat. But I’m left feeling that if Shalit is any kind of hero, he’s a passive one, and the real heroes of his story, as he himself implied, are those who supported him through five years, and the people who facilitated his release, Benjamin Netanyahu and the IDF.
As Shalit was trotted out for display – and presumably to inspire people to open their checkbooks – I was struck by a discordancy between Israeli Jewry and Diaspora Jewry. A recent conversation I had with an Israeli living locally kept replaying in my head. ‘Why are they presenting Shalit as a hero?’ he asked. ‘In Israel people are uncomfortable about Shalit, because of the high price we paid.’ As Diaspora Jews, we revel in the pure joy of seeing a Jewish prisoner released. We may understand the price intellectually, but we cannot relate to it viscerally. For Israelis, however, the release of 1,027 prisoners – all of whom were involved in terrorist activities – raises several difficult, and fundamental, questions: Will any of these freed prisoners launch attacks against us in the future? Are we encouraging further kidnappings of our soldiers? In other words, are we doing more harm that good with this swap?
I remember, last year, despite having serious reservations about whether Israel made the right decision in exchanging Shalit, the euphoria I felt while watching his release on live television, knowing I was watching it together with thousands of other Jews worldwide, all of us with speeding heart rates, in shock that this moment was coming to pass. There’s something about the odds that Shalit overcame which make his story heroic, whether Shalit is himself the hero of the story.
And no one can argue with Shalit’s closing words last night: “Am Yisrael Chai”. The excitement at hearing him – who faced death because of his faith – utter this age-old adage of our people, is undeniable.
