23 July 2012

If It's Too Early in the Morning, It Don't Matter How Interesting the Subject Is - I Still Fall Asleep


בס''ד

Originally published as a Note on Facebook
ג באב, התשע''ב
22 July, 2012

Copyright © R. Kossover, 2012
Thirty three years ago, in the summer of 1979, I moved from Brooklyn with my ex to study law at a spanking brand new school in St. Paul, MN, Hamline University School of Law.  Classes started early, and my first class was "torts" which is a topic that has nothing to do with baking.  Torts have to do with damages from things that go wrong, or from things purposely done wrong - what is called in Jewish law, "neziqín". 

Anyway, first year law school is all about reading appeals decisions of judges and trying to isolate from the appeals decisions "rules of law", which are then applied first in law school exams, and later to the practice of law.   This is a basic ability that any American lawyer is expected to have.  So, torts was all about reading appeals decisions on things that went wrong - gun accidents that killed or injured people, car accidents that killed or injured people, etc., etc., and inferring from them first the "proximate cause", the cause most directly responsible for the tragic event, and then assessing responsibility according to rules of law found in these appeals decisions - which were not always clearly writen by the appellate judges.

It's the kind of thing that can put you to sleep real fast, and it often did, especially in a first period class.  The professor was aware of this, and he told us to buy a book on torts that had a very interesting item in it - the decision of an appeals court concerning the issues surrounding the ship the SS Edmund Fitzgerald, which carried taconite on the Great Lakes between Canada and the United States, which had sunk in a storm in Lake Superior in November, 1975.  This was an issue especially close to the kids in the class - mostly from Minnesota or Wisconsin, but it rang a bell with me because of Gordon Lightfoot's song "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald", which even parochial Brooklyn boys like me had heard on the radio.

The poor torts professor failed in keeping me awake in class - even though there was a spirited discussion about the insurance issues surrounding the sinkning, etc.  For me, everything other thanGordon Lightfoot's memorial to the 29 sailors who died on the SS Edmund Fizgerald was an etc. - one of the reasons I am not an attorney today.

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THE HAMMER OF G-D


בס''ד
Originally Published as a Note on Facebook

ו בסיון, התשע''ב
27 May, 2012

Copyright © R. Kossover, 2012

We had the pleasure of being the meal guests today (Sunday, 27 May 2012 - Shavuót) of one of the most brilliant individuals I've ever known, a modest man who would never let me use his name in quoting his own brilliant work on the Calendar of Jubilees.

In introducing a d'var Torah, a commentary on Torah required at holiday meals, his wife told us of a dream her son had a decade ago, a dream that terrified him - and that his mother, like Jacob, our ancestor, has "kept in mind".

I'll describe the dream for you briefly.  In it, he saw two large TV screens.  On the left screen, he saw a blackened city with huge amounts of destruction and fallen buildings.  On the right screen, he saw a hand with a huge hammer splitting a mountain in half - and the two halves moved away from each other.

The next morning, after he said his prayers, the young man went to the rabbi who headed the yeshiva he was attending. The rabbi kind of equivocated, saying this was something for a wiser man to pursue.

Not long after, the students in the yeshiva were taken on a tour of Jerusalem and the areas surrounding it - and when he saw the Mount of Olives, he told his friends, "that's the mountain I saw in my dream."


The young man had never read the Book of Zechariah before - but in the last chapter of that Book, what the young man saw in his dream was described.  

"HASHEM will go out and wage war with those nations, as He waged war on the day of battle.  His feet will stand on that day on the Mount of Olives, which faces Jerusalem on the east, and the Mount of Olives will split open at its middle, forming a very wide valley; half the mountain will move to the north, and half to the south." [Zech.14:3-4]

Our hostess' point was that she believed that her son had dreamt of that day - the day that the Hammer of G-d would split the Mount of Olives - and that its approach was very very close.

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06 May 2012

The Bubbie of Ma’ale Levona and her Brownies


בס''ד

י'ב באייר התשע''ב

4 May, 2012
Copyright © R. Kossover, 2012
 Published originally as a Note on Facebook

            Ma’ale Levona is a small village at the summit of Levona in Samaria off of Highway 60, a few kilometers west of Sinjel and Jiljiliya.

            When the Ernst family moved to Ma’ale Levona in August 2000, they didn’t realize what they were getting into.  They didn’t understand terms like "Green Line", Kav Tefer (the "Seam Line") or the nature of how Jews and non-Jews got along – or rather didn’t get along – with each other.  Truth is, Jews and non-Jews deemed to get along rather well - until the First Intifada over 20 years ago.  That's how it seems to veterans living here in the village.  

    I guess I forgot to mention.  We also live in Ma'ale Levona.  But we haven't lived here for 20 years or so.

            A day or two before Rosh Hashanah that year, Ariel Sharon took his “stroll” on the Temple Mount, an event used by the PA to spark off rock throwing incidents, shootings and bombings, - all of which became known as the Second Intifada.  On Rosh Hashanah, the village rabbi, Ya’ir Shahor, appeared on the bima in the synagogue in full uniform, complete with gun, to conduct prayers.  Our neighbor, who was not yet the Bubbie of Ma’ale Levona, was in total and absolute shock.

            A few days later, several squads of regular army soldiers appeared in the village – doing nightly patrol, sitting at the gate guarding, and surveying the neighboring non-Jewish villages, like Sharkiya al-Luban, and patrol roads that surround the village.  This was when Aviva Ernst called her baking skills into play, baking pan after pan of brownies for the soldiers, usually 8 or 9 pans daily and more on Fridays, for one is forbidden to bake on the Sabbath.

            According to Aviva, this went on for months and months, as Ma’ale Levona is in the midst of Gush Shilo, where many shootings and rock throwing incidents took place during the height of the Second Intifada.  Many residents were injured, some severely, from these incidents.  Her husband, Yitzhak, would go into Jerusalem and buy SOG brand multi-tools and pairs of army socks, which he would give as gifts to soldiers guarding the village.  He bought so many of these multi-tools that he eventually became known in Jerusalem as “Saba Sog”, - or “Grandpa SOG”.  Aviva, the baker of brownies, gradually became known as the Bubbie, the grandma, of Ma’ale Levona.  Doing guard duty became a pleasure because Aviva makes good brownies; she saw to it that those sitting in the guard’s shack on the road into the village were always supplied.  And thank G-d, there were no infiltrations of the village, which is hard to get into, the way it is located on the Summit of Levona

            Eventually, the Intifada subsided and bit by bit, the soldiers have been withdrawn, and Aviva’s brownies became gifts to neighbors, and Yitzhak’s multi-tools and army socks, gifts to new soldiers like my son.  But her brownies are still delicious, and now the Bubbie of Ma’ale Levona makes baby- blanket after baby-blanket for the many Jewish babies born around here and all over the world.  In fact, just yesterday, Saba Sog sent a couple off to London.  As for me, I'm waiting to be a grandpa myself one day - then the Bubbie of Ma'ale Levona can make a baby blanket for our grandkid...

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11 November 2011

My Father's Warnings Against the Leviathan, the Dragon of the East

בס''ד


Published originally in Blogcritics Magazine, 26 June, 2009
Copyright © R. Kossover, 2009, 2011

My father*, may he rest in peace, was born in Russia-Poland in 1908. Many of the adults he knew, the Jews in the village of Yenzhiveh where he lived, were veterans of the disastrous Russo-Japanese War that had occurred only a few years before he had been born. Some of these veterans came home famous, like Joseph Trumpeldor, a man who didn’t live in Yenzhiveh. He lost an arm in battle, and emigrated to the Land of Israel to help found Jewish villages there. He died fighting Arabs in 1920 at Tel Hai. His name is memorialized in the Zionist youth organization, Beitar - בית''ר -, which is the mnemonic for - brit hano’ár ha’ivrí ‘al shém yósef trumpeldór – “Covenant of Hebrew Youth Founded upon Joseph Trumpeldor’s name”. Most of the veterans of the Russo-Japanese War, however, resumed their daily lives and did not rise to such fame.

But my father heard from these war veterans nevertheless. They would talk about the battles they fought, the country they fought in, and the wondrous and terrible sights they saw there. One needs to understand some history to realize that the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5 was not fought in either Russia or Japan. It was fought in China, over Chinese territory. At the time, the Chinese Empire was so weak it could not keep out foreigners from fighting over its land. During this humiliating period in Chinese history, Jewish Russian soldiers saw China, its millions of inhabitants crowding Manchuria, and saw, amongst other things, that the symbol of this country was a dragon.

Only one dragon was known to Jews – the Leviathan.

In stories my father related, he told me to beware the Chinese – that they were a sleeping giant who would one day awake. He told me that the Chinese were like the Leviathan – which he called livi-yússen, the Yiddish pronunciation of the Hebrew word líviatán.

His description was as follows:

“The livi-yússen is a giant whale, and the world rests on this giant whale. One day the livi-yússen will overturn, and when it does, the world will overturn.” 

I would listen to this fantastic yarn and say, “Yes, Dad.” But my father had a nasty habit of being right, even when it appeared that it was impossible that he should be so at the time.

A more detailed description of the livi-yússen is found at the site “Judeo-Christian Demons”:
Leviathan was a large whale-like sea creature, who may have had 7 heads according to some legends. A lengthy description of him comes from the Hebrew Bible, the Book of Job:


His strong scales are his pride,
Shut up as with a tight seal.
One is so near to another
That no air can come between them.
They are joined one to another;
They clasp each other and cannot be separated.
His sneezes flash forth light,
And his eyes are like
The eyelids of the morning.
Out of his mouth go burning torches;
Sparks of fire leap forth.
Out of his nostrils smoke goes forth
As from a boiling pot and burning rushes.
His breath kindles coals,
And a flame goes forth from his mouth.
In his neck lodges strength,
And dismay leaps before him.
The folds of his flesh are joined together,
Firm on him and immovable. His heart is as hard as a stone,
Even as hard as a lower millstone.
When he raises himself up, the mighty fear;
Because of the crashing they are bewildered.
The sword that reaches him cannot avail,
Nor the spear, the dart or the javelin.
He regards iron as straw, Bronze as rotten wood.
The arrow cannot make him flee;
Sling-stones are turned into stubble for him.
Clubs are regarded as stubble;
He laughs at the rattling of the javelin.
His under-parts are like sharp potsherds;
He spreads out like a threshing sledge on the mire.
He makes the depths boil like a pot;
He makes the sea like a jar of ointment.
Behind him he makes a wake to shine;
One would think the deep to be gray-haired.
Nothing on earth is like him,
One made without fear.
He looks on everything that is high;
He is king over all the sons of pride.
[Job 42:15-32]

Also, according to Isaiah 27:1, on the Day of Judgment the Lord will slay Leviathan:

'In that day the Lord will punish,
With His great, cruel, mighty sword
Leviathan the Elusive Serpent —
Leviathan the Twisting Serpent;
He will slay the Dragon of the sea.'
[Isaiah 27:1 (bold print mine)]

The site also quotes passages from the apocryphal Book of Enoch [1 Enoch 60:7-8], Babylonian Talmud, Bava Batra (75a) and the Bible, Psalms 74:26, but the main descriptions are reproduced above.

So, now that we have a fuller description of the Leviathan at hand, let’s look again at my father’s fantastic yarn. In the 1950s it indeed sounded like nothing more than that. The world was divided between two giant powers, the United States and the Soviet Union, and everyone worried that these two powers would go to war one day and leave the planet nothing but a radioactive cinder, and that the inheritors of the planet would be... cockroaches. Indeed, Albert Einstein had said, “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”


In this world, China did not count too greatly, in spite of its many millions of people, but the Chinese Red Army had fought the United States Armed Forces (and their allies, the Turks, Australians, and New Zealanders) to a draw in Korea. At the time, the United States was the manufacturing giant of the planet. One could buy everything in the States from soup to nuts, and see on the label, “Made in America”. This label did not mean that all the parts were imported from foreign countries and assembled in America – the lame meaning it holds today. This label meant that everything except the most raw materials unobtainable in the United States came from America.

In this world, the dollar had real meaning – from the ring of the silver in the silver dollars my dad would toss me every now and again – to the fact that an ounce of gold was worth $35, that this price was the benchmark of the international financial system, that everybody owed money to the United States of America, that oil was bought and sold in dollars, that air and hotel fares were quoted in dollars, and that English, the binding language of the United States, was the language used by all pilots in the sky.

Oh, how the world has changed in the last 50 years!

The Samsung 753s computer screen that shows me what I’m typing now was probably made in Korea. The cannibalized CRT that powers the computer displaying this image was made in China or Korea. In fact, the only things that I can safely say were ‘made in America’ in my rental home in Israel is the desk my father bought me in 1960, the chair he obtained from Brooklyn College that I’m sitting on right now, the Southwestern Bell Trimline Freedom Phone on my desk to my left (which I’ve had forever), four bookcases made from hard wood in the States in the 1960s, me, my wife, and my kids.

Let’s not talk about the dollar. It has no ring to it. Not anymore. The Pocahantas tokens I have in my drawer that say “one dollar” on them have barely any intrinsic value at all. The same goes for all the other tokens that say “half dollar”, “quarter dollar” “one dime” and “five cents”.

Let’s not talk about what is manufactured in the United States. A year ago, I might have said cars and boats, but today, “Made in China” is far more likely to be seen on manufactured goods here and everywhere else in the world. Let’s not talk about who owns all those bonds the United States Treasury has been hustling in the last few years. “Owned in China” is stamped upon them as well.


Some folks talk about the United States being the “last superpower”.

Really?

To be terribly blunt, about the only wealth-creating nation on the planet today is China. Today, 50 years after my father told me about the livi-yússen, the giant whale the world sits upon, China is the giant manufacturing power the world relies upon for a whole host of goods. Australian kids learn Mandarin – not because they are interested, but because they understand who the real power in their neck of the woods is. The power that China wields is indirect – but palpable. A China-friendly regime rules in Nepal. The nations in Southeast Asia are careful not to challenge the “elder brother” in Peking directly. When the United States needs money, there is usually a trip to Peking for some hard negotiating (a.k.a. begging) involved. Chinese influence can be seen throughout Latin America.

But there is more. Twice in recent years, Chinese military officials have threatened to use nuclear weapons to counter the United States. The Chinese are a careful lot, not given to empty threats, bluff or bluster. While these threats to attack the United States with nuclear weapons are not extant today, they have been made, and the American ruling elites have taken note. And it does not take a lot to see that a nuclear exchange between the Americans and the Chinese would be a lot like that livi-yússen overturning, what my father described 50 years ago.

When we look at what the livi-yússen really is – a dragon, the symbol of China - we see what may well be truth in my father’s warnings. Today, at least 1½ billion people inhabit the People’s Republic of China. And if this livi-yússen overturns, the world will indeed overturn with it.

Dad, do you always have to be right?

* Dedicated to Louis Kossover, זיסקן לייב בן צבי-הערש, may his memory be for a blessing for his family and for all the People of Israel, who died on 26 June 1976.




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07 July 2011

Minnesota Dreams? - Or a Warning for September?

בס''ד

Posted originally as a "note" in Facebook
6 July, 2011- ה בתמוז, התשע''א
Copyright © 2011, R. Kossover


My wife, a Minnesota girl, woke up from a dream not long ago.  She was dreaming of the Great Minnesota Get-together, the Minnesota State Fair.  Or so it seemed at first.

She was trying to get home from the Fair, which is right on Snelling Avenue in Falcon Heights, a small suburb on the northwest edge of the city.    She was trying to leave the Fair grounds, to get to Snelling Avenue, presumably to take the bus south to our home in St. Paul.  Then things started to get strange - and my ears perked up.

She was telling me she had lost her teudát zehút and her medical card, which was in her purse along with all of her money.  In Minnesota, nobody uses a teudát zehút, and if you asked most of the four million Minnesotans what it was, they would look at you as if you had dropped off Mars or something.  Minnesotans are polite.  They wouldn't go "say what?" like a Californian might, or "whaddayatawkinabout?", the way a New Yorker would.  But you would get the distinct impression that you belonged locked up in Moose Lake (Minnesota's version of Belleview Hospital for the Insane or Bedlam [originally the Bethlehem Hospital]).  A teudát zehút  is the Israeli national identity card. 

When we lived in Minnesota we did have cards for health insurance.  But we always referred to them by the name of the health provider, like Blue Cross/Blue Shield, Physicians Health Plan or what have you.  We never called it a "medical card" which is the term we use here (even though some other people might use the name of the health care provider in Israel  describing the card).

Other strangenesses appeared in my wife's description of events as they transpired in her dream.  Apparently there had been a big storm, and it left lots of debris laying around.  My wife was trying to get to Snelling Avenue though a hole in a building, when she realized that she could step over some debris off to the side instead. So she did, and began to walk south on Snelling Avenue to go home.  Then she woke up.

To my ears, there was something distinctly wrong with this dream.  Storms in Minnesota, which can do lots of damage, generally do not leave holes in buildings or pavement torn up.  Roofs might be hit by trees (as happened in a windstorm in May 1998), small wooden buildings might be destroyed by tornadoes (as happened in a tornado in Falcon Heights in 1981).   But torn up pavement?  No.  Holes in cement building buildings?  Definitely not.  Then there was my wife worrying about her Israeli identity documents and her Israeli health care card.  Minnesotans are concerned with drivers' licenses and credit cards - even if they are not driving.  I remember.  I used to be one.

Finally, there was the timing of all of this.  The Minnesota State Fair takes place for the 10 day period immediately preceding (and including) the Labor Day holiday.  This is the end of August towards the very beginning of September.  Then the kids go back to school, the adults go back to work, and the summer is officially over in Minnesota.

That's in Minnesota.

This coming September, here, a plan is supposed to go into effect to create an Arab terror state in Gaza, Judea and Samaria, with the capital in Ramallah (the Arabs will say Jerusalem, but they are not getting that).

It dawned on me that perhaps my wife was not dreaming about the Minnesota State Fair at all - but rather about an event that may take place in place in late August or early September in Israel, at a spot where a lot of people get together - like Jerusalem at say, the Central Bus Station, or downtown at King George V Street, or some place of that nature.  A place where a bomb or missile can create a hole in a building and leave pavement destroyed.

Why?

I remembered a video I had seen about NaHman PinHas, a 12 year old boy who died in the Galilee some 1,500 years ago, after making a number of prophecies.  NaHman PinHas is known in Jewish religious literature as Rav NaHman Hatufá (or NaHman the snatched).  The video at this link is 19 minutes long and explains the first of the prophecies to be unraveled, about the fall of the "Statue of Rhodes".   It is well worth watching, even though the video is in Hebrew with English subtitles, and can take a bit of time to load.

Written in Aramaic, the prophecy declaims that when the Colossus of Rhodes falls, then Rome will also be at an end.  The problem with the prophecy, when it was declaimed, was that the Colossus of Rhodes had already fallen seven centuries earlier, and the city of Rome had already  been sacked by Vandals about a half century earlier.  So, the prophecy was nonsense, right?  Not quite.

NaHman talked of what he saw, and what he saw looked like the Colossus of Rhodes.  In 1876, the top portion of a statue was presented to the United States (often viewed as "Rome" in Jewish prophecy) as a gift for its 100th anniversary of independence, and the statue was called the New Colossus.  When finally fully paid for (this was not really a free gift) it was erected on one of the islands in New York Harbor, an island now known as Liberty Island.  And the Statue of Liberty has been for over 100 years, the symbol of the United States.

Now the prophecy of the 12 year old boy makes a lot of sense.  'When the Statue of Liberty falls, the United States will be at an end."

Why explain all of this and how does this relate to my wife's dream?

Just like Rav NaHman Hatufá, she needed to mediate this idea through something she understood.  My wife, the Minnesota girl, saw in her dream something she could understand - the Great Minnesota Get-together, the Minnesota State Fair, which has always been very important to her.  In attempting to leave this fair, she had to go through rubble to get to Snelling Avenue, the street that would get her on her journey home.  And the timing of the Fair was a clue to the timing of the event she was dreaming about.  A terrible event that has not yet taken place - but which will force her - or someone else -  to go through rubble to find their way home.

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01 June 2011

The Designated Schlepper - Tales of Grampa Louie

בס''ד

Copyright © R. Kossover, 1994, 2011

One night last fall, my wife was busily retching up dinner, lunch, and most of the previous week's meals while suffering a nasty bout of stomach flu. For three hours, she had been sitting in a chair covered in a blanket with the chills complaining of nausea. Our youngest, Eric, would ask every couple of minutes, "Mommy, are you going to throw up?" or "Mommy, did you throw up yet?" As time passed, he got himself more and more upset. Now that the anticipated unloading was finally taking place, he ran around the house in a panic, clapping his hands, crying "Mommy, don't throw up!" as if his commands alone could stop a grand event of nature.

The eldest, Daniel, hid on the couch, his hands covering his ears, head buried in a cushion. If it weren't for the sheer terror in Eric's eyes, I would have gone into the bathroom to comfort my wife, which is what I really wanted to do. Instead, I picked Eric up and carried him to the couch where Daniel had his head hidden.

I sat on the couch with my arms around them trying to calm the boys down, but Eric just screamed and Daniel kept his head resolutely buried as my wife vomited up some more. As I rubbed Daniel's back, I remembered my father telling me never to panic and inspiration hit me.

"Daniel, let me tell you a story about Grampa Louie." Daniel kept his ears covered, but lifted his head away from the couch cushion. Eric stopped screaming about his mother throwing up long enough to complain that I wasn't telling him about Grampa Louie.

"Okay Eric, I'll tell you about Grampa Louie, too. With that, I began.

"Grandma Hattie had a cousin who lived in Bergenfield, New Jersey, Cousin Fannie, who was a teacher. She was used to being the boss at home. She had a son, David, who was a couple of years older than me. Her husband, Sam, was a pit musician for the Radio City Music Hall. One day Cousin Fannie got a great offer to teach in Passaic, which is a few miles away. The only catch was that in order to teach in the Passaic schools, she had to live in Passaic. This meant she had to move.

"So, she and Sam put the house up for sale and bought a new house on Main Avenue in Passaic. They packed furniture and things into boxes, and got ready to move.

"Now, Fannie didn't have money to hire movers, so she called Grampa Louie on the phone and he agreed to help her move. He emptied the ice out of his delivery truck and drove Grandma Hattie and me to Bergenfield one cloudy Saturday morning.

"Fannie had almost everything packed in boxes. Sam had to take the train to New York for rehearsals at Radio City Music Hall. That left Grampa Louie alone to schlep boxes downstairs and into his truck.

"What's schlep mean, Daddy?" Eric asked.
"It's Yiddish. It means to carry or drag, like you do, well, with moving boxes. Since Grampa Louie was stuck with schlepping the boxes, he was the designated schlepper.

"He didn't have to carry everything, though. Grandma Hattie, Fannie and David all helped. Even I had to carry something. I had to carry a vase from Fannie' bedroom upstairs down to the truck. All the way down the stairs, out of the house and all the way to the truck, Grampa Louie kept saying `don't drop the vase, Ruvy, don't drop the vase.' He stood in the back of the truck and I handed it up to him. As I handed it to him, he kept saying `don't drop it, don't drop it, oy oy oy oy oy, don't drop it!' The minute it was in his hands, Grampa Louie dropped the vase. The vase smashed into pieces and there was dirt all over the back of the truck. Cousin Fannie gave him a broom and he swept out the truck and laughed.

"When the truck was all loaded we started off for Passaic. Grandma Hattie drove Cousin Fannie' blue Studebaker and took David with her. Fannie was so upset with Grampa Louie for dropping that vase and for laughing afterwards, that she rode with him in the truck to make sure he wouldn't speed and ruin more of her things. I loved riding with my father so much that I got to be in the truck with him. I was squished between Cousin Fannie, who was rather fat, and the gear stick.

"It was almost evening when we left Bergenfield. It had been raining all afternoon and was still drizzling as Grampa Louie started up the truck and left town.

"The Garden State Parkway would have gotten us to Passaic in a few minutes. But to avoid highway tolls and to keep Cousin Fannie happy, we drove down Washington Avenue which had a lot of stoplights and railroad crossings. Each of the railroad crossings had a protective gate that came down and blocked the road when a train was coming. We had almost gotten to Route 4 and we were crossing a railroad track when the protective gates began to come down behind us and in front of us. Grampa Louie didn't dare speed up to get away from the track, firstly, because the gate would have crashed down on the truck and secondly, because Cousin Fannie would have thrown a fit. So he stopped the truck, and looked around.

"Off in the distance on Cousin Fannie' side of the truck we saw the reason that the gates had come down and blocked the road. A beam of light seemed to illuminate the gray track in the night and progress slowly toward us.

"`Louie, it's a train!' Cousin Fannie shouted. Grampa Louie just shrugged and looked outside his window. I started to cry. I was scared. I heard the train whistle. Even as it whistled, the noise seemed to get louder.

“`Louie, do something! We're gonna die!' Fannie screamed. The light of the train got nearer. My father said `Watch out, son,' and pulled the gear stick into reverse. It pushed against my hip as it passed me.

"`Now, watch what I do. Don't watch the train,' Grampa Louie said as he turned the truck's steering wheel hand over hand to the left and put his foot on the gas. The truck pulled backward away from the gate to the left and was facing the train.

"`I'm gonna get sick, Louie. Help.' Cousin Fannie said weakly.

"`Vomit later, Fannie, not in my truck!' my father roared at her. He shifted into first and drove straight toward the oncoming train until he cleared the gate, then he swung to the left, away from the train and on to some grass. He jumped out of the truck, ran over to Fannie, gave her a bag and said, `go ahead.' The train rolled on behind us.

"Fannie got out of the truck with the bag, but she didn't throw up. It felt so good without her squeezing me against the gear stick.

"So what happened next, dear?" my wife asked. She'd startled me. I had been so busy telling the boys about my father that I had forgotten completely about her.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Are you feeling better? Do you still have the chills?"

She looked a little tired. "No, the chills are gone. But tell me what happened next." Her eyes twinkled with curiosity.

"Well, Grampa Louie pulled fifty cents out of his pocket and put it on the dashboard. He said, `Fannie, we're taking the Garden State, and that's the end of it.' Fannie got back into the truck, and was very quiet. We returned to Washington Avenue, turned onto Route 4 to the Garden State and were at Cousin Fannie' new house in Passaic in about fifteen minutes.

"You mean your father didn't get scared at all while he was driving straight into the path of a train? Not even a little bit?" In her twinkling eyes were questioning disbelief.

"No. In fact, after we had unloaded some of Fannie' furniture at her new house, we went out to a deli and my dad stuffed himself with corned beef sandwiches and kasha varnishkas. You never would have known anything out of the ordinary had happened that night.

"But, Daddy," Daniel asked, "Weren't you scared? And did you look at the train even though Grampa Louie told you not to?"

"Yeah, I looked at the train. And I was very scared. But Grampa Louie was at the wheel and I trusted him. And Grampa Louie didn't panic."

Then I got up and looked at all of them, especially my wife.

"And that's why I'm around to tell the tale."

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Cats and Good Deeds – Notes from Home

בס''ד


Copyright © R. Kossover, Avi Kossover, 2001, 2011


            Our cat, Flash is a very valued member of the family.   Let me be more specific.  It cost us $89 to bring him on the El Al flight here.  It cost another $89 for the box that held his stuff, a box additional to the twelve we were allowed to bring.  It cost $20 for a veterinarian’s examination, $22 for the USDA to certify that he was fit to travel to Israel based on that examination, and $30 for the kennel to carry him on the plane.  That totals to $250, which is what some people in the States make in one week.  There is also the additional fact that we smuggled him into the Absorption Center and keep him here against its rules.  So for me to come to dislike cats takes some doing.  Israeli cats have managed the task.

            When I learned over the Internet that cats are considered a nuisance here, I had trouble understanding why.  Let me share my education with you.  The average American street cat is a very lazy animal compared to his Israeli counterpart.  He sleeps under spacious cars parked on wide streets.  He goes after garbage tossed into dumpsters and feeds languorously on the many mice, rodents and birds that abound in the moist flower laden soil.  Not so for the Israeli cat.  There may be mice or geckos, but they are hard to get at.  The birds are huge and raucous, like hawkers in a market, and just too big for the average cat to handle.  The streets are narrow, the cars small, and they rush by at 70 or 80 km/hr on city streets.  For those of you who have trouble with metric measurements (like me), 80 km/hr is equivalent to 50 mph and 70 km/hr is equivalent to about 43 mph.  The soil here is not rich and soft, but hard, rocky and dry; buildings are made of stone and built into hills.  There are steep climbs and tall ladders.  I haven’t seen any squirrels in the trees here.  In Jerusalem, the cats leap like squirrels.  All this in and of itself does not make the Israeli cat a nuisance, just strong and lithe.   But when you factor in the lack of window screens in most apartments in the Absorption Center, you have the recipe for the nuisance cat.

            Looked at from the viewpoint of a cat, Jerusalem’s apartments are a series of dumpsters piled on top of one other, each one holding food and other delights.  Because the cats can leap far distances, if there is an open window, the cat can jump from ledge to ladder to open window and just sort of drop in for a visit.  If there is no one home, so much the better.  The garbage, if available, becomes a meal opportunity.  And if there is cat food laid out for the resident cat, then a feast awaits.  We made the mistake of setting out Flash’s cat food in view of a window.  It wasn’t entirely our fault.  We arrived at 10 at night and could not see a ledge under the window.  Our first concern was to lay out the litter for him and some food because he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for over 20 hours. Also, we knew nothing about the abilities of the Zionist wonder cats living in the country.  We assumed that the felines at the dumpsters were like the American alley cats and did not give them a second thought.  One cat, though, gave us a second thought and checked out the window 
where she could see heaven laid out in front of her eyes, there for the taking.

            Once, I saw her in the apartment and I chased her out.  It did not dawn on me (or the rest of us) at all that the sight of the Science Diet was like a magnet guaranteed to draw in a hungry street cat.   After several days of  chasing her out the apartment and worrying about what she might do to Flash, it finally dawned on us that her interest had nothing to do with Flash at all but everything to do with his food, which we saw her eating.

            So we moved the food and water to the kids’ bedroom where it was not within view of a window.  For two days we saw nothing of the black and white cat stalking Flash’s food dish.  Then a few nights ago, Avi reported that a cat jumped on him and was pawing his shirt.  He petted the cat, thinking it was Flash and then opened his eyes and saw that it was the stray. This is his account of the incident. 

I slapped the cat across the face.  The cat fell on the floor, landing on her feet and meowed loudly.  I ran after her into the living room (where Adina and I sleep) and it jumped out of the bedside window.  I went back to sleep but before I fell asleep I saw the cat jump in the living room window” (which Avi can see from his window).  “I ran into the living room and saw the cat chasing a moth.  I threw one of dad’s slippers at it.  The cat jumped, startled, looked back at me and jumped out the bedside window.  A few minutes later, I saw the cat’s head and front paws in the bedside window, preparing to jump, but this time I was prepared for it.  In my hand, I had a hunk of dried mozzarella cheese and some bubble wrap.  When I saw the cat, I threw the hunk of cheese in the middle of the floor.  The cat jumped in and sniffed the cheese.  As she put her mouth over the cheese, I threw the bubble wrap on the cat.  Before she knew had happened I scooped her up and pushed her outside the bedside window onto the deck and she didn’t come back that week. 

            The next day, when returning from shopping, I felt like hissing at the cat, who was sitting at her usual haunt near the garbage dumpster.

            So consider the following.  The night before last one of the other residents of the Merkaz  Klita, Moshe, stopped by to tell us that a small cat was laying injured on the sidewalk near a school.  He asked me for the number of a veterinarian which I gave him readily.  About ten minutes later Moshe returned telling me that all the veterinarians he had called except one refused to answer the phone, and that the one who had lived all the way in Beit haKerem, which is all the way across town toward the west, a cab ride away.  He asked if I could come with him to Beit haKerem.  Immediately, Avi wanted to come along.  I shrugged my shoulders, put my shoes on and we went down to find the cat.

            When we got to the cat she was laying on the ground, her left leg obviously out of place   I told Avi to get a couple of towels to wrap the cat in.  When he returned a few minutes later, he set the towels on either side of the cat and spoke gently to it.  Once the cat seemed convinced that Avi meant her no harm, she started to meow very loud with all her soul, her pain coming out very clear.  I went off to hail a cab while Moshe looked for a box to put the cat in.  A few minutes later, all was ready.  All that was lacking was the cabbie.  By the time one came, the cat was very weak and some boys had told us she had been bitten by a dog.

It was 11:30 at night by the tine the cab got to Beit haKerem.  The vet lived at the end of a road called Sha’ár haGai.  He was outside waiting for us.  Moshe laid a hundred shekel note on the cup holder and the vet told the cabbie to wait.   I waited with the cabbie.  I could see Avi, Moshe and the vet in the vet’s house.  After some minutes, Moshe went outside with Avi, I think to explain to him that the vet had to put the cat the sleep.

            Some minutes after that, the vet gave the cat a shot so that it wouldn’t suffer any more.  Avi and Moshe came back without the cat, both silent.  Avi started to cry.  There were tears on Moshe’s face.  I told Avi that he had done a good deed, a mitzvah, comforting a cat so that it would not die abandoned in the street.  I told him this was a mitzvah of a high order – bringing comfort to the dying.  I don’t think it consoled him any, but  I was very proud of my youngest boy that night.

            It was almost one in the morning when we returned to the Merkaz Klita.  I had to get up early and go to the doctor by nine a.m., the day before Yom Kippur.

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16 June 2010

Living in the Shadow of the Six Day War: The Unraveling of a Miracle

בס''ד

This improved and consolidated version of a three year old series of articles has been published in Jewish Indy (Indianapolis, USA), Salah Uddin Shoaib Choudhury's Weekly Blitz (Bangladesh).  I am attempting to have it translated into Hebrew in hopes that my Israeli friends and neighbors will see a painful summary of all that we have lost in the dark and scary Shadow of Six Day War.
Copyright © R. Kossover, 2010
Originally published at Blogcritics Magazine in four parts during 6-9 June 2007.
Copyright © R. Kossover, 2007


Author's note: Now, three years after this article was originally published, we have fought a brief war in Gaza, and now sit on the lip of further war, with Turkey having thrown its lot in with the revivified Persian Empire that stretches from the borders of Afghanistan and Pakistan to the beaches of Lebanon and Syria. We wait for the other shoe to drop, for the time when we will need to pull up the lawn chairs and watch the missiles fly in to destroy Tel Aviv, and pray that they do not hit us here in the midst of Samaria.

I was not yet sixteen when the Six Day War broke out in June, 1967. Over 25 years ago I recorded what happened to me the day before the war started.
"War!"
I jumped out of bed when I heard my mother's voice. Listening to the 7:00 a.m. news, I heard CBS Radio's Israel correspondent Jay Bushinski say that Israel Defense Forces had advanced 10 miles into Egyptian territory and had destroyed the entire Egyptian Air Force. During the following week, I walked around school dazed, distracted. But not so distracted that I couldn't drag out a Hebrew grammar book to study abandoned verb conjugations and forgotten vocabulary. I carried a new dream within me.
Only twenty-four hours before - Sunday morning - it would have been like Vietnam; another war in a far off place.
After Memorial Day, 1967, Brighton Beach was my second home. I soaked up rock-n-roll tunes from the radio as I lay on a blanket playing poker and browning my back.
My best friend at the time was an Israeli, Shlomo Rozenberg. Sunday, June 4th, he and I kicked a soccer ball around while gentle winds blew and sea birds flew over Brighton beach. As afternoon shadows lengthened, the soccer game disintegrated. Shlomo and I made our way to a forest of legs surrounding a centrally located group of beach blankets and umbrellas. This was "Bay 3", the central hangout for Israelis living in New York on hot summer days.
Together with eight others, we clambered over each other's shoulders to form a human pyramid. While I struggled to maintain my balance, someone began to play a Hebrew love ballad on his guitar. A bongo drummer softly kept rhythm.
Almost everybody sang along. Guys put muscled arms around their girlfriends' olive shoulders. Giant Stars of David reflected gold, copper and light.
I was silent.
I neither knew the words, nor understood the language. All I knew at that moment was how lonely I felt. I wanted to walk away from this crowd of foreigners, lay on my blanket and listen to the Beach Boys and the Stones. I didn't. Shlomo had his left leg on my right shoulder. He needed my support.

By the time the unsteady pyramid had collapsed, Jack Goldberg - card sharp and pre-eminent party giver in Brooklyn's felafel ghetto on 13th Avenue - was making a speech about breaking Nasser's noose on the Straits of Tiran. To shouts of "kol hakavód!" and "bravo!," he orated passionately that the Russians could drop dead and that Israel would drive the Egyptian monkeys to the gates of Cairo. He yelled "'am yisraél Hai!" and "long live America!," The rest of the crowd soon took up Ya'akov's calls.
In the midst of the shouting the staccato of a bongo drum pierced the air like a machine gun. A girl began to sing "Hava Negila" and grabbed Shlomo's hand. He grabbed mine and we danced a hora to the steady beat of the knee drums.

I danced and whirled and jumped. Concentric circles formed dancing clockwise and counter-clockwise. I kicked sand, running first to the right then to the left. The knee drums pounded their cadence into my brain. As more and more people joined the hora, I sang the one song I recognized that day in a voice of voices.
The ancient spirit of Israel rose within me. Walls of isolation dropped. I felt my soul link with the souls around me. I shared fear. I shared concern. I shared joy. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like an outsider. I belonged.
That night we watched a television "special" about the Middle East. My mother looked at the map on the TV and said to my father, "Louie, they have us surrounded." She had never referred to Israel as "us" before.
When I went to sleep that night, He Who guards Israel did not sleep. Only He - and the Israel Defense Force - were prepared for the six days that followed.
What had happened was a miracle. First of all, that event on Brighton Beach and the events of the week that followed it shaped the rest of my life, telling me where my own identity really lay. Even though it would be over thirty years before I would fulfill my own dream of coming home to Israel, the seed leading to its fulfillment had been planted.

But on a far larger level, a small insecure nation surrounded by millions of hateful enemies determined to drive it into the sea and massacre all of its inhabitants had defeated all of its enemies on the field and totally humiliated them. In the words of the great Israeli writer, Ephraim Kishon, "Israel solved the problem of winning a two-front war by fighting a three front war." In six days, David had downed Goliath using airplanes, tanks, and sheer moxie. And the Arabs, just like the Philistines 3,000 years earlier, pulled off their boots in the sand and ran as fast as they could.

From a country with a central section 10 miles wide, Israel had expanded to cover all the land from the Mediterranean to the Jordan, a broad and good land; it had conquered the Heights of Golan, so that never again would Syrian gunners bombard kibbutzim and towns in the north and force the inhabitants to sleep in underground bunkers; it had liberated the city of Jerusalem from foreign rule and re-united it under the rule of the only people who pray for the city's welfare daily, the Jewish people; it had conquered Gaza, an infectious nest of murderous terrorists; and as a security buffer, it had conquered the entire Sinai peninsula, ending forever the danger of a blockade of Israeli shipping in the south, as well as that of a massive land invasion that would overrun Ashkelon, Beersheva, and Tel Aviv. In addition to all this, most of the inhabitants of the territory that had been under Jordanian rule for 19 years waited at three bridges at the Jordan River, seeking to flee Israeli rule.

Rabbi Shlomo Goren, the Chief Rabbi of the IDF, wanted to build a synagogue on the Temple Mount. The opportunity to have Judea and Samaria nearly empty of Arabs stood before the leaders of Israel. Had a synagogue been built on the Temple Mount it would have cemented our claim to it, mosques and domes notwithstanding. Had the Arabs fleeing Israeli rule been allowed to leave, the settlement of Judea and Samaria would have been a far easier and less controversial task. It is likely that the territory would have been annexed to the State and living in Ma'ale Levona, for example, would be looked upon as normal, instead of theft of someone else's land by self righteous, finger-wagging foreigners, and ignorant Israelis who think they know better than G-d Himself.

But this is not what happened.

Spitting at the Miracle

The key person who began the unraveling of the miracle of the Six Day War, was the IDF's Chief of Staff, the late Moshe Dayan. Consulting with a large number of rabbis who tended to feel that entering upon the Temple Mount was an affront to G-d, Dayan banned the idea of the synagogue. Rabbi Goren's view was a minority one at the time. But, as if to lock out the possibility of a synagogue ever being built, Dayan handed control of the Temple Mount to the Waqf, a Moslem community organization. Given that the secular establishment ruling the country then (and now) did not want to see a strengthening of the religious community in Israel, and certainly rejected the view that Israel should be a publicly Jewish state, this act certainly went in line with its vision for the nation. But the rabbis who advised Dayan that a synagogue should not be built on the Temple Mount, advice that gave him cover for his actions, probably do not have the sense to now say "t'aínu" - "we made a mistake". This, in spite of the acts of the Waqf to erase all Jewish presence on our Temple Mount over the last several years.

Additionally, Dayan blew up the bridges at the Jordan River, thus preventing the Arabs living in Judea and Samaria from leaving. So they left the sites of the blown up bridges, returning to their homes. The Israelis attempted a "light-handed" occupation, but there is no such thing as a light-handed occupation of a potentially hostile population being fed hate propaganda daily.

Because Dayan did not allow the Arabs at the Jordan River bridges to leave, he created the problem of wanting to "annex the land but not the people". He handed to the Arabs a legitimacy they would not have had otherwise in demanding the land for themselves and undermined any Jewish claim to our land. He built the stool upon which the PLO stood, the stool upon which the Hamas stands. His act was an act of rank cowardice that has cost thousands of Jewish lives in the last forty years, not to mention thousands more Arab lives.

Very few Jews, living in Israel or elsewhere foresaw the disastrous consequences of these two acts when they were done. But this looks at events only from the point of view of political analysis. The real issue is that the last forty years spent in the shadow of the Six Day War has only made clear what happens when a people, particularly its leaders, spit at a miracle. In 1967, and indeed even into 1973, this nation had land, a sense of security, and a joie de vivre that one could feel in the festive air. The history of the last 33 years at least is the history of how this nation has lost all it gained in the Six Day War, along with the joie de vivre it had possessed when going into battle in June, 1967.

Tremendous victories were achieved by Israel in the 1967 War. Israelis called it a miracle.

It slowly unraveled.

The first unraveling was the "War of Attrition," which in essence was the attempt by Israeli Defense Forces (IDF), particularly the artillery and air, to prevent Egypt from rebuilding its military forces - the war machine it had built up before 1967 with immense Soviet aid. While primarily costly in matériel, the real cost of this war forced Israel into dependency on American military aid. Prior to the Six Day War, Israel's leaders had done what they could not to openly rely too heavily on the United States for arms, though it had received heavy tanks from the States via aid to West Germany.

The main foreign supplier of arms to the IDF prior to the Six Day War was France. When the French decided to side with the Arabs in 1967 this began to change. The political atmosphere in the States was favorable to the Israelis, and American Jews gloried in seeking to get aid for the nation that had given them a renewed sense of pride. Thus, almost unnoticed, Israeli sovereignty began to slip from the fingers of her leaders. The most fortunate event that occurred during this period was when the Israelis "acquired" nuclear material to make missiles. It was the one really good thing that Shim'ón Peres did in the service of his country.

The Beginning of Arab Terror

The second strand of the unraveling of the miracle was the beginning of Arab terror against Israeli civilians. The terror campaign had the initial effect of making the Arabs look evil and vicious - they blew up a school in Ma'alót, planted pencil bombs that would blow up in the hands of little children, and similar acts. Innocents were usually targeted. But this was accompanied with a well funded propaganda campaign to reverse the roles of the combatants, constantly referring to the Israeli "Goliath" overshadowing the Arab (and later, "Palestinian") "David."

The turning point in this campaign of terror - revealing the success of the Arab propaganda effort - was the reaction to the murder of the Israeli Olympic athletes in the 1972 Munich games by the Arab terror organization, Black September. As wrong as the terror attack might have been, the distribution of Olympic medals was far more important in the eyes of the corporate world than a terror organization bringing dishonor to the international games.

The shedding of human blood, particularly of Jewish blood, did not matter if it got in the way of the great publicity machine hustling the Olympics. The murder of the Israeli athletes was turned as much as possible into another form of entertainment for the hungry masses. In addition, the Arabs were able to get a certain amount of sympathetic coverage, with the line "poor Palestinians driven to terror" being capitalized upon constantly. The Arab propaganda planted in the late '60's and early '70's has echoed through three and a half decades of murderous terror attacks, always being used as the excuse to cover them and give them legitimacy.

The Yom Kippur War

The next strand in the unraveling was the co-ordinated Arab attack on Israel on 10 Tishrei, 5734 - the Yom Kippur War. That the "empire would strike back" was inevitable. But many other things were not.

Israel's leaders, now dependent on U.S. arms, quailed before American bullying - something that they did not do in 1967 - and waited for an Arab attack when they could have struck pre-emptively. They relied on America to fulfill promises of arms replenishment - which the Americans did not keep until Secretary of Defense Shlesinger informed Richard Nixon, then president, of the duplicity of his Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger, in holding up arms resupply.

More important was the cold enmity towards Israelis around the world. In 1967, for example, blacks would drive through New York with huge flags of Israel on their cars to show their sympathy. Six years later, blacks in New York, now influenced by Arab propaganda, were cool at best and often openly hostile. I remember one black man telling me that "Israel was not a natural country". The Arab campaign of disinformation and lies - backed by the United States State Department - was succeeding.

Nation after nation broke ties with this country, even nations that had received aid from it. The breaking of ties by foreign nations, the American duplicity, the hostility of the world reflected at the United Nations, ought to have been a signal to the nation's leadership that it was time to assert the true character of the people of Israel, and act as and view itself as a nation reckoned alone. Indeed in 1973, it was. But the desire of the Zionists to be just like all the other nations overruled this impulse, and like a girl desperate for a lover, Israel began to chase for friends. This meant that her leaders caved in to foreign demands when they should have told the foreigners to go to hell.

History will not be kind to Golda Meir, z"l, in spite of all that she did to build this country. But it will be even less kind to Moshe Dayan. During the war, the one Israeli tactic that succeeded - the audacious attack on Egyptian tank lines that broke them by General Ariel Sharon - was fought tooth and nail by Security Minister Moshe Dayan, his superior.

If the enmity of the world, contempt of much of the world's press, and American duplicity weren't enough to signal that something was very wrong, the cease fire agreement reached at Tent 101 should have.

The IDF drove the Syrians off the Heights of Golan entirely and were advancing east northeast towards Damascus. It had invaded Egypt proper (in Africa) and had surrounded its vaunted 3rd Army while forces advanced on Cairo. The IDF, at the cost of over 2,500 dead in about three weeks (the equivalent of 135,000 American dead in a similar type of battle for survival), had repulsed a coördinated attack that could have destroyed the country, and had routed its enemies entirely.

At Tent 101, where negotiations were conducted, Israel was forced to give up land!

Israel was forced to withdraw to the status quo ante (4 October 1973) and surrender to the Syrians control of the city of el-Quneitra. In the Sinai, Israel was forced to withdraw 10 kilometers east of the Suez Canal and withdraw from Africa entirely. A diplomatic defeat was dealt out to the victors in war by the American Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger. The bitterness of that defeat acted like a poison that embittered the body politic here for years.

"Zionism is Racism"

The next unraveling was the appearance before the General Assembly of the late Yasser Arafat, a murdering terrorist, who broke the laws of the City and State of New York by carrying a holstered pistol to the meeting without a license. In that speech, he told the delegates that in one hand he had a pistol and in the other he had on olive branch. In truth, he never held an olive branch, but he put on a good enough show to fool millions of people. To top all this was the recognition of the PLO, a terrorist umbrella organization, as the "legitimate representative of the Palestinian people," which created a people out of a non-people on the strength of the lies of the Husseini clan, and a further resolution that condemned Zionism, the movement that built the State of Israel, as racism.

This was the signal for a strong Israeli leadership to expel United Nations personnel from Israel permanently and to take over direct control of the Arab refugee camps in Judea, Samaria and Gaza. The United Nations had just declared war on Israel and did not deserve - as it does not deserve now - one square meter of land here, not to mention a presence in the most strategic spot in Jerusalem, Armon haNetziv. But the weak-kneed YitzHaq Rabin, z"l, did not understand this and did not do it at all. In 1977, when his wife Leah was caught with her fingers in the cookie jar - it really was a penny ante scandal compared to the thefts of Olmert, Martin Schlaf and the late Yossi Ginosar - the anger was such that Rabin and the leftists were driven from office by a true nationalist, MenaHem Begin, z"l.

How Peace and War Both Further Unraveled the Miracle

The miracle further unraveled with two events - the "peace" treaty with Egypt and the invasion of Lebanon. Both occurred on Begin's watch.

The peace treaty appeared to be a good thing - except that Israel was forced to give up all of the Sinai Peninsula. A Pentagon study had shown years earlier that the minimum that Israel required for her security needs was control of Sharm el-Sheikh (Yamit) in the south, and control of parts of the northern and central Sinai. Giving up all of the Sinai did not allow Israel her minimum requirements for security.

This was the first problem. The second problem was that by giving up the entire Sinai, it created a "little" Israel, instead of the spacious mini-empire that control of the Sinai gave. The third problem was that Israel would have to give up oil holdings - the Arabs and the Americans controlling the oil industry had used the Yom Kippur War as a cover to triple oil prices in 1973, which now meant that oil was a valuable asset. But all of these problems were dwarfed by something that the Israelis did not realize at all.

When the late Anwar el-Sadat was able to win back the Sinai from the Israelis without firing a shot, he injected a tremendous amount of hope into the Arabs living under Israeli rule in Gaza, Judea and Samaria that they could eject the Israelis entirely. This hope was to result in the creation of large terrorist bases in refugee camps and Arab towns, and in the intifada of the late 1980's. This then leapfrogged into the development of Hamas and later HizbAllah.

The second event that occurred was the Lebanon War - the first Lebanon War. The original "Peace in Galilee" campaign was to advance to the Litani River and to stop, driving the el-Fatah terrorists from the territory, and occupying it, thus preventing further terrorist attacks from Lebanon. But Security Minister Ariel Sharon turned the campaign into a full-scale invasion of Lebanon, as far as Beirut. This was the first time that the Jewish state had gone to war in a situation that was not an issue of self-defense against attack, and it appeared to many that an unspoken covenant had been broken, particularly after Security Minister Sharon ordered the IDF to advance beyond the Litani River.

The nature of the poison that had spilled into Israeli political life began to show itself at the Battle of Sultan Yakub, where a tank division of largely religious soldiers was allowed to advance into an ambush by their commanders, Colonels Ehud Barak and Amram Mitzna, both secular Jews and later major figures in the Labor Party. Twenty three soldiers were killed in that ambush and three soldiers went missing, including Zechariah Baumel, who remains missing to this day.

But the real problem with Sharon's invasion of Lebanon was that his goal - the destruction of El Fatah as fighting force - thwarted by the United States government, which arranged for Arafat, along with people like Mahmoud Abbas, to live, and to leave for Tunis. This rendered the Israeli invasion worthless and created, for the first time, a real element of questioning the validity of the actions of the IDF among Israelis. This led to an acceptance among some of the elites here of something called "post-Zionism", which revises the history of the country to present it as though we Jews who have sought to re-settle our home as a people are colonial villains with no rights, while the Arabs, many of whom immigrated here from Iraq or Syria during the period of British rule with their encouragement, had rights that extended centuries back.

The event that was decisive in changing the nature of the invasion was a massacre of "Palestinian" Arab refugees at the Sabra and Shatila camps by a Christian Lebanese militia force, known as the Phalangists.  The fact that thousands of Lebanese Christians had been killed during the Lebanese civil war by "Palestinian" Arabs was ignored by the world's press; so was the fact that five thousand "Palestinian" rebels had been killed by General Zia ul Haq in Jordan in 1970. The fact that Security Minister Sharon was supposed to watch over the Phalangist forces for possible abuses was focused in on like a laser.

In the end, Israeli forces withdrew to the Litani and a zone south of it to prevent Arabs from firing missiles into Israel. But not before major internal damage had been done to the country's political structures and the trust that Israelis placed in the IDF.

The End of Israeli Sovereignty

The year 1991 saw the effective end of Israel's sovereignty. This occurred when the United States attacked Iraq in what has become known as the "First Gulf War."

The Iraqi dictator, unable to effectively deal with the United States, attacked Israel. The Scud missiles fired from trucks in Iraq could have been stopped by the air forces of the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF), but the United States ordered the Israelis not to retaliate, and to make sure that the Israel government complied, withheld codes that would have allowed our air forces to fly over Jordan and Iraq. Israel's self-defense was thus squelched by the minions of George H.W. Bush and his Secretary of State, James "fuck the Jews" Baker.

After this war, Prime Minister YitzHaq Shamir was virtually ordered to a summit in Madrid for "direct talks" with the Arab enemy. Shamir wrecked these talks by calling his Syrian counterpart a terrorist. The Syrian, enraged, threw the accusation back at Shamir, whose group in the War of Independence, known as the "Stern Gang", had assassinated the Swedish "mediator" Count Folke Bernadotte, a man who had planned to force Israel to surrender Jerusalem entirely in his proposals for "peace" in 1949.

This wrecking of the Madrid summit by Shamir was the last sovereign act by an Israeli head of government. Since then, no Israeli prime minister has had the guts to take any action independent of the United States. Not YitzHaq Rabin, who depended on the United States for support; not Benyamin Netanyahu, who had been intimidated by Bill Clinton; not Ehud Barak, who owed his position entirely to Bill Clinton; not Ariel Sharon, who was unwilling to do what he was elected to do, to squelch Arab terror with an iron fist as he had done in Gaza decades previous; and certainly not the clown who pretends to the prime minister's seat and is on the verge of ejection from it, Ehud Olmert. But I get ahead of myself.

A further example of how the United States squelched the sovereignty of the country was how it influenced the settlement of Judea and Samaria after the flood of Russian Jews came here. Aid money that was supposed to be used to build infrastructure was withheld on the condition that Russians be prevented from settling in Judea and Samaria.

In a CRS Report for Congress prepared in January, 2006, it reports how during times of domestic unrest in Israel and regional instability, U.S. aid to Israel had increased. The report stated that in 1991 Congress provided Israel $650 million in emergency grants to pay for damage and other costs from Operation Desert Storm. In addition, Israel was given Patriot missiles to defend against Iraqi Scud missile attacks. After the 1991 collapse of the Soviet Union and the ensuing increase in migration of Russian and other Eastern bloc Jews to Israel, Congress approved $10 billion in loan guarantees for Israel to help it absorb immigrants and provide them with adequate social services.

It also explained how Loan Guarantees for Soviet Immigration were to work. In late 1990, the press reported that Israel would request $10 billion in loan guarantees from the United States. Under the proposal, Israel would borrow $10 billion from U.S. commercial establishments, and the United States government would guarantee the loans against default. Israeli officials said the funds were needed to finance housing, jobs, and infrastructure for an anticipated 1 million Soviet Jewish immigrants that were expected between 1991 and 1995. In April 1991 there were negotiations over Israel's request for emergency funds for recovery from Iraqi attacks during Operation Desert Storm.

Israel agreed to postpone its guaranteed loan request until September, 1991. Then, President George H.W. Bush asked Congress to delay consideration of the Israeli request until January 1992 because the President feared that the loan request would jeopardize Secretary of State Baker’s negotiations for a peace conference [Madrid]. Reluctantly, most Members of Congress agreed. When Congress returned in January 1992, Secretary Baker said the Administration would support the Israeli request only if Israel agreed to freeze all settlement activity in the occupied territories (does this phrase look familiar, anybody? - RK).

According to the report, in a series of negotiations among the Administration, Congress, and Israel, several compromises were offered: reducing the U.S. loan guarantees by an amount equal to the Israeli expenditures on settlements in the occupied territories, reducing the annual amount of the loan guarantees, or allowing Israel to complete housing projects underway in the territories but to ban new projects. None of the proposals were acceptable to all the parties. With the stalemate, it appeared that Israel’s loan guarantee request was to be postponed until consideration of the FY1993 foreign aid legislation later that year.

Following the June 1992 Israeli elections, which YitzHaq Rabin and his Labor party won, relations between the United States and Israel improved because the Bush Administration found the new Israeli leaders more accommodating toward peace talks with Arab states. President Bush announced in August that he would propose approving the loan guarantees. Congress attached the loan guarantee authorization to the Foreign Operations Appropriation bill that passed on October 5, 1992 (Title VI, P.L. 102-391, signed into law on October 6, 1992). The United States approved the first $2 billion tranche [portion] in December 1992, and Israel issued the first $1 billion in bonds in March 1993.

The long and the short of all this was that while the United States was willing guarantee the loans to Israel of $10 billion to settle Russian Jews in Israel, they preconditioned all of this by saying that these Russian Jews could not settle in Judea and Samaria. And it should be emphasized here, that these conditions were not on loans per se, but loan guarantees. This means that the private institutions that lent Israel the money will still receive them out of Israeli tax revenues. The "aid" consisted only of guaranteeing the loans.

This preconditioning of loan guarantees effectively hobbled much of the settlement of Judea and Samaria.
The standard Israeli style of getting around things was used to build and settle the city of Ariel, only a few hilltops north of us in Ma'ale Levona. The result is that Ariel is largely a Russian speaking city, with a large population. Without this interference in our internal affairs, it is safe to say that at least 300,000 Russian immigrants would have settled in Judea and Samaria, with many of them concentrated in Hebron and Ma'ale Efraim, to the southeast of here. American interference has meant, among other things, that Ma'ale Efraim, built to be the capital of southern Samaria, is virtually a ghost town with a sense of failure hanging over it. It has also meant that factories in Ma'ale Levona have never been built, that the industrial area of Shiló is nearly deserted, and that all of these communities are "bedroom communities" for Jerusalem or Tel Aviv, when they need not have been.

Oslo - the first serious steps on the road to suicide

Let's look at that report to Congress again. There is a key line in there that tells us where the Oslo road to suicide started. "Following the June 1992 Israeli elections, which YitzHaq Rabin and his Labor party won, relations between the United States and Israel improved because the Bush Administration found the new Israeli leaders more accommodating toward peace talks with Arab states."

Oslo was never a secret process at all. The secrecy was maintained to hide the fact that negotiations with the PLO were a crime at the time that they were taking place under the guiding hand of Bill Clinton's Secretary of State, Warren Christopher. An accurate account of how all this began is excerpted below in an article by Barry Chamish, who has effectively proven why (and how) Rabin was killed.

Chamish begins by explaining that he had received a phone call from a fellow named Henry Gluksman, the advance man for the Oslo negotiations. Gluksman is a political refugee in Norway. The government there provides him with an apartment and pension as protection against mortal retaliation from Israel. According to Barry, Gluksman claims the Shabak made attempts on his life and he was forced to flee Israel in the early 1980s. Argentinian-born Gluksman publicly accused Israel of being behind the Falklands War. "I discovered that it was Israel Aviation Industries that provided the Argentinian planes and missiles and it was they who sunk the Lancaster", he explained. "They convinced the Argentinian government that they could win the war for them".

Gluksman had been impressed with Barry's website and his Rabin murder research. According to Chamish, The first thing he said was, "You missed the real motive for Rabin's murder. It was financial".  Let's have a look at Barry's article.
Gluksman claims the Shabak made attempts on his life and he was forced to flee Israel in the early 1980s. Argentinian-born Gluksman publicly accused Israel of being behind the Falklands War. "I discovered that it was Israel Aviation Industries that provided the Argentinian planes and missiles and it was they who sunk the Lancaster", he explained. "They convinced the Argentinian government that they could win the war for them".

Mr. Gluksman's motives for talking freely to me appear not to be ideological. He is an avowed Marxist. Simply, he believes his Oslo talks became corrupted and that Rabin was murdered by the corrupters of his negotiations. His insider revelations are startling and verify the crux of my own research.

Gluksman: When I began laying the groundwork for the Oslo talks in '88, money wasn't even considered as a political issue. It's when it became the core issue that things turned ugly.

Chamish: What do you mean 1988? The talks began in 1992.

Gluksman: The plans for them were initiated in 1988. We had to wait until Rabin was elected to put them into action. He sent the two negotiators, Pundak and Hirshfeld, to Oslo and the initial talks were aimed at establishing an honest groundwork for peace.

Chamish: I interviewed Ron Pundak in 1996 and he told me something remarkable. He said that his boss, Yossi Beilin, does not believe in borders. Borders cause wars. He told me the end result of the accord would be the removal of Israel's borders. This would be done by dismembering the country piece by piece. After, Israel would blend into a Middle East bloc of united Arab countries.

Gluksman: Yes, that was our objective. The Gush Katif disengagement was agreed to in 1993 as part of the broader plan. To understand how this would lead to peace, look at Hong Kong. It was a colony of six million in a sea of over a billion Chinese. Israel consists of six million Jews in a sea of over a billion Moslems. When Hong Kong was handed over to China in 1999, nothing changed for the people of Hong Kong. They went on with their lives as before but without the threat of attack hanging over them. That was our objective. Israel would become Arab and nothing would change, but the threat would end. The Jews of Tel Aviv would go on with their lives, run their businesses, build their homes but the mayor would be an Arab, the police would be Arabs, the courts would be Arab. It was the ideal solution.[emphases mine - RK]


This details the reasons for the Oslo Accords as they were originally envisioned. Beilin's vision for change in Israel goes even beyond that of Uri Avneri and other "Gush Shalom" types. Perhaps his vision for peace would have made sense if we were all Arabs, and the Arabs were not being convinced daily that they have to kill us all. But as we see, the Arabs leaders do want to kill us all and have been poisoning their people with the desire for Jewish blood for decades.

The remainder of this interview deals more with the death of Rabin, but outlines why our country is on the ropes today. The Israeli leadership saw this as a big money making opportunity. And they had the minds of criminals. Let's read the rest of Barry Chamish's interview with Henry Gluksman to get a better sniff of the rat's nest that is Israeli politics.

Chamish: So if the plans are on course beginning with Gush Katif, what is your problem with the accords?

Gluksman: The problem began when the Labor Party leaders saw Oslo as a way to make a quick buck. Everyone was rushing to join in, Shimon Peres [Peres brought along his friend whom he had mentored, Ariel Sharon], Chaim Ramon, Micha Harish. And they all came with their Palestinian businessmen in tow.

I mean, who were Micha Harish and Chaim Ramon? How did they become peace negotiators? Oslo was drawing the greediest crooks to the money pot. They did not want peace, they wanted a piece of the action.

People who were absolute nobodies suddenly were showing up for discussions. The most absurd was this Rabbi Melchior who Peres brought along. Who ever heard of him before? He had no legitimacy or constituency, never wrote learned tracts and overnight he jumps from Oslo to the cabinet of Shimon Peres.

Everyone the Israelis sent to iron out details were there for what they could get out of Oslo and the P.L.O. more than cooperated in the thefts and corruption. From a Marxist beginning, the discussions turned capitalistic.

Chamish: Where did Rabin fit in? [this refers to the murder of Rabin]

Gluksman: He saw how corrupt everything had turned and decided to abandon the whole enterprise. He was going to put the talks on hold or shut them down for good if the corruption didn't stop. That is why they murdered him. He threatened to bring down the house of crime and that would have been very costly to the crooks. I read your work. Your conclusion is similar to mine but you left out some people who stood to lose big if Rabin stayed alive. It is a broader plot than you've found out.

This little portion of Chamish's interview with Henry Gluksman outlines one of the main problems of the present Israeli régime. It is nothing but a criminal mafia. It had been one for a long time, but "Palestine" was the cash cow that really drew all the cockroaches out of the wall. To be fair, this country is far less corrupt than countries like India or Pakistan, and even in crisis is better governed than either of these aforementioned nations. But the quality of the governance has dropped dramatically, even as the standard of living (for the rich Ashkenazi Jewish élite) has gone up.

What does Oslo really mean?

In the interview with Henry Gluksman, we saw what Yossi Beilin's vision for the Oslo Accords was to have meant and one of the reasons it went so terribly wrong. In this article from Israel Insider, Expelling the Settlers, by Barry Chamish, we see what the reality of the Oslo Accords were to be as they started to be enforced. Let's look at the murder of two boys hiking near Teko'a.

It is no different than the heartbreaking case of the 14 year-old son of Sheri Mandell, an American immigrant living in Teko'a. He took a short hike from his home with a friend, they were set upon by Arabs who tied them up and bludgeoned them to death, cracking open their skulls with rocks.

After delighting in the screams of the boys as each rock opened more of their brains, the murderers took further pleasure in the sadistic coup de grace of ripping the bodies apart with knives.

Days later, Sheri Mandell's home was sniped at, with a bullet entering the bedroom of her nine year old daughter. Had she been in the room, she would have joined the list of double murders. Sheri took the hint and abandoned her home in Teko'a that night. She will likely not be the last to be shot at (author's note: Indeed she has not been. Not a week goes by without another report of Arabs shooting at Jews in Judea and Samaria - RK).

One of the secret parts of the Oslo Accords dealt with Judea and Samaria. In it, it detailed in as few words as possible, the elimination (as in murder) of the leadership of Judea and Samaria. When you talk to folks who have lived here for fifteen years or so, they can see the arm of elimination and murder of their leaders, even if they do not want to. They've been to too many funerals.

Even in the case of a young kid like Kobi Mandell detailed above, the effects of murder and demoralization have their toll. One of the fellows who found the body is a man who works for the Jewish Agency, and who moderates a website for would-be immigrants to this country. On the website, political arguments break out frequently, even though it is a site for the nuts and bolts of moving one's life from an English speaking country to Israel and discussions of religion and politics are banned. Imagine what stoicism it takes to do the job of telling Jews to shut up about the problems of Arabs killing them when you have just found the destroyed body of one of your neighbors - a body destroyed by a mob of savages!

The Oslo Accords have really meant demoralization. One of the reasons this is true is that in 1993, many Israelis embraced the idea of 'peace at last' with a warm enthusiasm. Living in peace means a lot to Israelis. It means possibly dismantling the reserves system and the draft; it means travel to Jordan, Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, North Africa; it means endless possibilities for business deals and making money. It means reducing taxes because this tiny nation will not have to support a world class army any more. It's a no-brainer to say that peace is a wonderful idea for Israelis.

But no peace arrived with the Oslo Accords. What arrived instead was the steady terror of the Palestine Liberation Organization, with the deaths constantly salved over by the government as "sacrifices for peace." The constant toll of terror, both in attacks through the 1990's and since 2000, have meant demoralization, sadness, pain, depression, fear. When I visited this country in January 2000, that is what I found.

Under the face of "normality" there was a deeply sad feeling. This feeling has only deepened since 2000, but it had a specific price in 2000.

In the year 2000, an organization called Women in Black was featured by the Hebrew (leftist) media. These women were the mothers of soldiers who had died defending the piece of south Lebanon that Israel had held on to when it withdrew from the rest of the country in 1984.

They protested daily that it was a waste of their childrens' lives to have had them stationed in Lebanon, and they demanded that the government withdraw soldiers from there to save lives. At the time, they were the media's darlings. In time, this will change, and they will learn what it is to be shunned in a Jewish society. That time has not arrived yet, though.

In a controversial decision, Ehud Barak decided on a unilateral withdrawal to "recognized international borders" that was to solve the problem of the casualties lost to occupying southern Lebanon up until the Litani River. On the day of the ordered withdrawal, Arab forces attacked and the Israelis ran away. HizbAllah, an Iranian puppet organization of Shi'a Arabs formed to "fight the Israeli occupier" moved soldiers all the way to the border while the Israelis fled south. And the pattern that we were to see until the 2006 rocket attacks by HizbAllah began. The UN moved in an ineffectual force of "peacekeepers" who did nothing.

HizbAllah attacked Israel with rockets, claiming that a farm that was Lebanese territory had not been evacuated, and therefore, Lebanon had not yet been freed of the occupier. The UN ruled that the farm belonged to Israel. But this did not matter to HizbAllah. They continued to bombard Israel with rockets while the Iranian government resupplied HizbAllah, trained their soldiers and the United Nations did nothing to stop any of this.

The Rosh HaShanah Revolt of the Arabs

The further consequences of withdrawing from strategic territory were to have a humiliating price in 2006 - the defeat of Israel by a terrorist organization. But the immediate consequences came much sooner. The infamous Camp David meetings in July 2000 were supposed to produce a final peace agreement between Arafat, the "raïs" of the "Palestinian" Authority, and the Prime Minister of Israel, Ehud Barak. But Arafat turned down the best offer that Barak could make him and walked away. What was unknown to the public was that the PLO had begun to secretly plan for war in the autumn of 2000 and went to war - using a visit by Ariel Sharon to the Temple Mount on Rosh HaShanah as the excuse.

This war started as a series of riots at the Temple Mount and Western Wall in Jerusalem, with a whole slew of rock throwing incidents. But it was a war. I learned of this from an e-mail which I still have stored in my computer to remind me of what war looks like from the point of view of an e-mail. A woman who lives in Beitar Illit was writing to a list of would-be immigrants, and I saw this e-mail a couple of days after Rosh Hashanah. In it, she described soldiers laying prone outside her home shooting at the Arab village across the hill.

The rock throwing incidents became shooting incidents, with regular shooting at Gilo in south Jerusalem from the Arab village of Beit Jarrah, and regular bombardment of Gush Qatif from the Arab cities in the Gaza Strip. The public waited for Barak, a former chief of staff of the IDF, to order the crushing of this rebellion and the arrest of the Arab terrorist leaders. But Barak did not do this.

In fact, the IDF was held back from doing anything except crowd control while Barak made desperate efforts to negotiate with Arafat to get back the illusory "peace of Oslo". A mob of Arabs took over Joseph's tomb and the IDF evacuated it - doing something they had never done before - at least not in the public eye. They allowed one of their casualties to die in enemy hands, a Druze soldier named Mudhuf Yussuf.

Rabbi Yossi Baumol from Ateret Kohanim wrote of this incident in the essay which is the religious underpinning of this article. He pointed out that in Jewish tradition there is not one messiah but two: the "messiah, son of Joseph" and the "messiah, son of David". Each of these messianic figures has a separate task and the first messianic figure, the messiah, son of Joseph, had to die before the second one could arrive to do his task of spiritual redemption. The "messiah, son of Joseph" had the task of re-populating the Land with Jews, and with seeing to it that there would be sustenance for them and fighting the "wars of the messiah."

Rabbi Baumol argued that the "messiah, son of Joseph" was really the Zionist movement, noting that yoséf and tzión have the same numerical value in Gematria, the Jewish method of using Hebrew letters to denote numbers. He also pointed out that it was the Zionist movement that had repopulated the land with Jews, developed a self defense force for them and had, as its apotheoses, the founding of the State and the Six Day War. He made the observation that what we were seeing was the gradual destruction of Zionism, as a movement to inspire people to do things, as a force to repopulate the Land and now, as a military force to defend it. Six years on from this analysis, we can see the truth of Rabbi Baumol's words in the events that have transpired since then.

Jew expelling Jew and defeat on the field - final loss of nearly all 1967 gains

Spitting at G-d's gift of easy victory in 1967 has finally lead to a situation where Israeli police expelled Jewish residents of Gush Qatif in 2005, and what was nearly worse, the defeat of the IDF before a force of terrorists in the mountains of Lebanon and the flight of the government from the entire northern portion of the country during a rocket bombardment from south Lebanon - the very area that Ehud Barak thought he was so smart in evacuating in 2000. Both events, taken together, have caused the public to lose all of its confidence in a government of thieves and liars that has led them to defeat. Gone completely is the joie de vivre that I saw in 1973. Gone completely is any sense of optimism or hope. All that we see today is a tired nation waiting for the next blow to fall, for the next shoe to drop and for war to strike again, bringing only death, disaster and funerals.

To be blunt, this is a very depressing topic to write about further. However, the reader can examine the 140 or so articles I have written at Blogcritics Magazine to see how I've attempted to cover the events since November 2005.

In June 2007, forty years after the Six Day War - the shining moment of my youth that inspired me to come home - we again face war with Syria, we again face war with Gaza, and in addition to all this, we face the threat of missile bombardment from south Lebanon, as well as Iran, and portions of Samaria. Again, I can look at the tiny Jewish state on the map in the midst of the Arab enemy and tell my wife, "Dear, they have us surrounded," exactly as did my mother to my father when watching the TV on Sunday night, 4 June 1967.

Our government is so weak as to hardly merit the name, so corrupt that calling it a mafia is an insult to the honor practiced in Italian crime families. Our army is so under-supplied that it can afford only forays and sorties into enemy territory, territory conquered proudly 40 years earlier. When I was a youth, I turned to the IDF for inspiration. Now, I have less hair, and considerably more wisdom. I turn not to an unstable institution that has been eaten into. Its morale is in the toilet.

I turn instead to the G-d of Israel for my security, and I wait for the morning when I will hear the missiles flying overhead, and hear my wife shout "Reuven! War!!"

I wish to thank Barry Chamish for having uncovered the evil tale of the Battle of Sultan Yukub in the First Lebanon War.  Frankly, I would have rather not known - and I suspect that Barry would rather have not known, either.  But the search for truth is like the search for redemption - and one must follow where truth leads in order to be redeemed from evil.  

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