Thursday, April 25, 2024 -
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Shalom, Satan

The white pureness of the Jerusalem Sabbath here was punctured by the blood of hate.

Sabbath observers walking home from Friday night prayers at a synagogue on a serene and sacred Friday night were murdered in cold blood before they had a chance to sit down with their families, usher in the melodious “Shalom Aleichem, Peace Be Upon You” that universally inaugurates every Friday night Sabbath, welcoming the Sabbath angels.

This time, it was Satan, manifested as a terrorist, who paid a visit; on a murder rampage, killing seven innocent Jewish civilians walking peacefully.

Shabbat morning, another terrorist attack in another part of the city, near the Old City of Jerusalem. Two people, a father and son — injured.

I happen to be on a visit to Jerusalem. These attacks trigger memories for me of the Second Intifada, 2000-2005, the painful, traumatizing years I lived through in Jerusalem.

This past Friday night, I was walking on the sidewalk with little children. They said, we can step into the road! It’s Shabbat! No cars!

I replied that I still felt uneasy with it because it’s not a good habit to cultivate. What if one day they slipped and walked into the middle of the road when it wasn’t a no-traffic Sabbath time? Besides, there is the possibility of emergency vehicles.

But the streets were full. There was languid Sabbath strolling by so many in the middle of the street. A group of yeshiva boys were singing a melodious Sabbath song aloud. Indeed, it was Sabbath in Jerusalem.

Just as we stepped into the street, there was a vague blue light shining on the building in front of us. Soon we were bathed in blue light, when a police car ever so slowly rounded the street toward us.

Of all moments, just after I had mentioned emergency vehicles, there it was. Then another. And another.
Hmmmm. I wondered about it. Briefly.

The next morning in synagogue, the word went around. There had been a deadly terror attack in the Neve Yaakov neighborhood of Jerusalem. Synagogues were notified so as to increase awareness and possibly increase security. Seven Jews were murdered the previous night.

That is why the police must have been making their Friday night rounds.

As Havdalah was recited, the full horror of the incomprehensible attack descended, and that’s when we learned of the second attack on Sabbath morning.

Tangible shock and sadness. A blanket of mourning seemed to cover the city.

At the Wailing Wall there was, indeed, wailing. And a spontaneous circle of prayer-like singing was formed by people who had come to pray, who turned to the Western Wall, the place to go when there is no other.

Te’hei hasha’ah ha-zot sha’at rachamim v’et ratzon milfanechah, let this auspicious hour be one of compassion before You” rang out across the Kotel Plaza, as seven families were being informed that their lives had been irrevocably shattered forever.

Already the next day on Facebook, discussions abounded about what Israel’s response ought to be. I saw someone post an opinion about responding in peacefulness, accompanied by a famous poem authored by Yehuda Amichai. It has been so overused that at times it can seem trite.

From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring
The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard
But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined house
Once stood

The poem speaks of avoiding the hard and inflexible ground of self-righteousness, versus embracing the more fertile ground of less self-assurance and holding an openness for others, for “doubts” and “loves.”

I have often found those who quote this poem to be pointing fingers at the Other, ironically speaking from their own dogma and self-righteousness.

Seven families were busy burying their dead, their lives upended by the pure hate of terrorism, the Sabbath marred by murder and innocent bloodshed, and not a word of empathy was mentioned. Instead, a poem, invoking the “complexity” of the situation.

To be sure, the long-term political conflict is a complex one. The long-term strategic response Israel must conceive of and execute is indeed complex.

But moments of murder by terrorists — these are not complex. Seven families have been brutally affected.

Besides which, the entire country’s sense of security has been compromised — a crack in the armor Israelis manage to build around themselves in order to proceed as “normal,” knowing there are neighbors bent on their destruction.

In moments such as these, Israel’s message must be crystal clear, as un-complex as possible!

I certainly don’t have the solutions and am grateful not to be in the position to have to decide.

But to minimize the impact of a terrorist attack is a mistake and is wrong.

While crafting a bigger-picture approach for Israel to work toward — incentivizing those who accept the reality of Israel and are ready to live with Israel side-by-side — is crucial and wise, equally as important is Israel asserting absolutely zero tolerance for terrorism.

Preventative measures so as to ensure that the price of terror in Israel is steep, and to cause a terrorist to think a hundred times before committing such a heinous act, is a must.

In the same vein, there must be zero tolerance for revenge attacks by a small but at times vocal minority who want to commit vigilante acts of “justice.”

Shouts of “Itbach al yahud, slaughter the Jews” began in Israel long before 1967 or any occupation. This hatred of Jews is not solely political.

To those whose arms are outstretched to Israel in peace, a blessing on your head. To those who thrive in a swamp of hate and terror, it must be dried up for once and for all so Jews can live in peace in our one and only tiny little slice of a country on this Earth.

Once the dust settles from this tragedy, once tough preventative measures against monstrous terrorist acts are put into place by Israel, then a conversation about the complex nature of the conflict and its long term solution can be had; about the differing “doubts” and “loves” and the complex space that lies in the middle.

In the immediate aftermath of a terror attack, blood spilled in the streets, safety and prevention must come first.

Copyright © 2023 by the Intermountain Jewish News



Tehilla Goldberg

IJN columnist | View from Central Park


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