"They Should All Rot in Hell - II"

The City of the Dead - Part 5

by Aron Trauring

It took several years for me to absorb my experiences in Hebron and fully understand their meaning. One man helped accelerate that process - Israel Rosenne. In a recent article in Ha'aretz, Israel Harel, a Settler pundit, has this to say about Rosenne:

" Rosenne, an electronics engineer who founded and heads the Zomet Institute for Technology and Halakha, is no insignificant figure. He has been, among other things, the head of the conversion administration and he participates in activities in favor of the legislation of a constitution in Israel. "Shabbat Beshabbato," the portion-of-the-week pamphlet in which Rosenne's article appeared, is published by the Mizrachi Labor Federation, the cradle of the National Religious Party."

"Rosenne's parents were among the founders of Hapoel Hamizrachi, which participated in almost all the coalitions between the secular workers' party and the religious one. That is where his roots lie. He was among the first to settle in Alon Shvut in Gush Etzion, a settlement that is in the consensus, even in general Israeli terms. And in choosing his place of residence, he was declaring where he was located in the religious-Zionist mosaic."

Hapoel Hamizrachi means "the Mizrachi Worker" and was once a socialist religious Zionist party. I used to read those Rosenne article's in "Shabbat Beshabbato" and they played a huge role in helping me understand Hebron and the Settler mentality. During the early Oslo period, when Israel's economy was booming under Yithak Rabin's leadership and the general optimism of the time, Rosenne made the following argument [what follows is a paraphrase; but the words Roseanne wrote made such a lasting impression, I can assure you that this is an accurate and faithful rendition of the original]:

In the prayer services of the High Holidays, we note how God determines the number of people who will live or die in the upcoming year. In other words, there is a quota allocated of the number of young people who will die in any given year. Currently there are a large number of young people dying in car accidents. In the past, when Israelis weren't soft and hedonistic, they were willing to fight and die for their country. But now secular Israeli's have lost their moral compass and are pursuing the illusion of peace under Oslo. This isn't saving any lives - remember the quota - except now they are dying in car accidents and not by fighting in wars. It would be far better, therefore, for Israel to abandon the pursuit of "peace" and return to fighting to protect our land. At least in that case the deaths of these young people would have meaning.

After Rabin's assassination, Rosenne had this to say:

There are those who say that Rabin murder was justified under the law of Rodef. [Rodef  means pursuit. Jewish law declares that while murder is absolutely forbidden, if someone pursues you to kill you, you have the right to kill them in self-defense.] Rosenne disagreed with this, despite his strong opposition to Rabin and the Oslo process. However, Rosenne did want to make it clear to his readers that the law of Rodef applied to all Arabs, including women and children, so no one should have any "religious" qualms about killing our enemies.

And one last gem:

There is a famous Rabbinic saying: Derekh Eretz kahdma la'Torah.  [ Derekh Eretz literally means "the way of the land," and the saying means "the way of the land precedes (or is more important than) the Torah. In Rabbinic terminology Derekh Eretz most likely means having a vocation - making a living. Unlike their modern counterparts, the Rabbis in the Talmudic age were not full-time clerics. They worked like everyone else - they were carpenters, shoemakers, traders. The point they are making is that before you can study Torah, you need to make a living. This is the case, not just for practical reasons, but because theoretical study of the law needs to be anchored by an understanding of day to day life and the way people really live. Later this expression took on multiple meanings. Derekh Eretz in more modern Hebrew means "being a decent human being." What good is being learned in Torah if you aren't a good and decent human being? Decency takes precedence over study. The Bnei Akiva youth movement of the Hapoel Hamizrachi (in which Rosenne grew up) has as its motto: "Derekh Eretz with Torah," emphasizing their commitment to be simultaneously part of the broader society while upholding their unique Torah practices.] Rosenne argued it is time to revise this expression. No longer should we say Derekh Eretz is more important than Torah. Rather Eretz [i.e the Land of Israel] is more important than Torah!

I must admit, that I found this last bit the most shocking of all. That "religious" people think they have a direct line to God, and know exactly how death and life are meted out, is not at all unusual. The fact that Rosenne glorifies war is no surprise. That the Settlers advocate genocide against the Palestinians is a given. But this last statement, within the context of someone who claims to be a practicing, believing, Jew, can only be viewed as blasphemy.  What shocked me is not that Rosenne wrote this. What I find so shocking is that the editors of this paper, put out by the relatively "moderate" Hapoel Hamizrachi, actually published something so radically blasphemous.

Rosenne's ramblings sharpened my understanding of the Settlers. They were in fact idol worshipers. Idol worship (caricatured by the Prophets as the worship of stone and wood) is the sin most often and strongly condemned in the Torah. Yet here, Rosenne is advocating exactly that - claiming a piece of stone is more important than any other value of the Torah. The Settlers worship the stone of the Land of Israel and the wood of the Shulkan Arukh [The Shulkan Arukhliterally means "the set dinner table" and is the name of the central book of Jewish practices which forms the core of modern-day Orthodox Judaism]. In pursuit of their godless and mindless worship, they put lifeless, soul-less objects above the value of living, breathing human beings. Harking back to the idolatrous practice of child sacrifice, many innocent young people, Israeli and Palestinian,  have been slaughtered on the alter of the Settlers' false gods.

And what of their own children? They act without regard for their safety and well-being. I'll never forget one night when I was on guard duty in the Hebron marketplace. Thousands of rats scurried across the roofs of the garbage-infested town [municipal services having been shut down since the beginning of the intifada]. Me and my fellow soldier scanned the darkness in fear of a sudden attack. Then out of the shadows a young settler couple emerged, walking with their baby in a stroller, in the moonless night. The scene was surreal. The motivation of the Settlers was to "show their presence" - to indicated that they were the lords of the land and nothing would intimidate them. A few months earlier, a young Yeshiva student had been stabbed to death by an attacker not more than five meters from where they strolled.

I remember thinking at the time: "What kind of monsters are these parents? How can they risk the lives of their children for the sake of a piece of rock?" Many years later I had to ask the same question of myself: "What kind of parent am I? How can I risk my children for the sake of a piece of rock?" Not willing to have my own children be one more useless sacrifice on the Settler's alter, I encouraged them not to serve in the army.

The Settlers  also instilled their own children with their "values": murderous hatred of the Arabs, contempt for Israeli secular society and democratic values and arrogant self-righteousness. One day a group of us soldiers were trudging through the streets, the hot sun beating down on us, bent over carrying our loads. Suddenly I notice this Settler boy, who couldn't have been more than nine years old, kick an old Arab man and shout at him: "Stinking Arab." We all stopped and one of my compatriots turned to our officer in anger and said: "how can we let him get away with that?" To which our officer replied that we were forbidden to intervene in anything the Settlers did., If the Arab wanted to complain, he could go to the police station.  We all knew that was a bitter joke, and no Arab would dare go near the Jewish-run police station to complain about the Settlers. Yet wearily, we re-shouldered our packs and moved on without a word.

My contempt for the settlers is also directed at myself - for not having the courage to say no: for not grabbing that kid by the ear and giving him a good belting; for not going to the police station myself; for not laying down my arms at that moment and refusing to continue to be part of the Settlers' crimes.

Like soldiers everywhere, when we came back from our tours of reserve duty, most of us just wanted to forget what we had seen. Despite the myth of universal service, the burden of reserve duty falls on only a small number of Israeli men. So if I spoke up and recounted my experiences, not many around me had gone through the same things. Even my closest friends would accuse me of exaggerating and of smearing the good name of the Israeli army. If I persisted, they would close the argument with these words: "Well if you don't like it so much, then leave." Eventually I took their words to heart, and did.

Not without some regrets. I often think what a beautiful little paradise Israel and Palestine could be if it weren't for this obsession with land. The sun-soaked shores of the Mediterranean, the barren wilderness of Judea, the green of the Golan -- the region has one of the most varied topographies in the world in such a small area. In one day you could go skiing on the Hermon and scuba diving in Eilat. Some philosophers believe that given infinite time and space all possible outcomes will eventually happen. So somewhere in some parallel universe, after the '67 war, instead of settling the West Bank and Gaza, Israel gave autonomy to the local Palestinians which eventually led to two closely intertwined states. Mahmoud and Gil run a beach resort in Gaza. On a balmy night like tonight, they string the lights for the upcoming trance party, as Maryam and Orli, their girlfriends wearing matching bikinis, prepare the humus and salads to be sold at the kiosk. Back in our universe, Mahmoud probably blew himself up in a bus in Tel Aviv, killing Orli. And Maryam, covered from head to toe in hijab, sits in ruins, her future dreams of becoming a doctor laying buried in the rubble of her home, bulldozed by Gil's army unit since it was too close to a Gaza settlement.

When I first heard about the huge role the Israeli army would play in removing the Settlers and dismantling their homes, I was strongly opposed. I felt the Israeli army should just pick up and leave, letting the settlers fend for themselves. But in retrospect, I am glad about what happened. For one thing, the true face of the Settlers has been displayed to the world: everyone has seen their faces contorted in ugly anger, heard them call Israeli soldiers "Nazis." Ha'aretz had an article about some of the filth being spewed by young settler children:

"...After the residents refused to allow the entry of an army truck with containers for them to pack up their belongings, and repeatedly forced it to reverse, one of the children shouted at the driver: "Run them over, run them over," as he pointed at the journalists. When the latter asked the children if they could ask their parents to enable a few reporters to enter the settlement and use the restroom, one boy, who looked to be about nine years old, replied: 'Do it in the sand, like animals. You are animals.' To which his young friend added: 'You're garbage.'"

"...When one reporter tried to explain that he was only doing his job, one of the children replied: The Arabs are doing their jobs, too. To steal from us and to kill us.'"

"...A mother who came over to urge the children to go home was asked about their harsh statements and the education they receive. 'When you become religious, come back to us. Until then, get out of here,' she said."

The Settlers accused us of being collaborators. And they were right. We were collaborators in their crimes. I can't go back and change what I did. But I can bear witness. And so today, I say once again: everything people see today on television and read in the paper, is not a result of the Settlers' "anguish." Their arrogant, brutish behavior to the soldiers, their contempt for Israeli society and democracy, their murderous actions against innocent Palestinians, their thievery of Palestinian land and the coffers of the State of Israel -- all this has been going on for decades. It has nothing to do with the evacuation. The Settlers  deserve no pity. Their forcible evacuation is only a small measure of the punishment they deserve. As for their homes being reduced to rubble: The Bible tells us that the homes of idol worshipers should be razed to the ground and utterly destroyed. Moreover, the Israeli army has long had a practice of destroying the homes of "terrorists." In this case, the destruction is quite fitting.

I also have reason to hope there is a positive political consequence. The ease in which the Settlers were evacuated from their homes (in contrast to the pre-evacuation hype), calls into question the Settlers' sincerity and willingness to sacrifice for their cause. One can't help but think their fight was half-hearted because basically they are soft and corrupt cowards. Besides, they know hundreds of thousands of dollars in compensation lays waiting for them. And if they aren't willing to fight for their homes, why should other Israelis? The snake-oil salesman has been exposed. The air is going out of the settlement project balloon.

When a Jordanian soldier killed a few young Israeli girls from Beit Shan, King Hussein came to the parents home and got down on his hands and knees to beg forgiveness. Everyone knew Hussein bore no responsibility, even indirect, for the event. And so people were truly moved by his sincere obeisance. As a consequence of the Settlers' delusions, there are new cities in Israel and Palestine, with endless buildings of cold marble - the cities of the dead. Instead of receiving a financial reward, the settlers should be made to crawl on their hands and knees the length and breadth of the land they worship and beg forgiveness from bereaved parents, wives, brothers and sisters, whose loved ones now inhabit those cities.

There is one last story I want to recount. It's actually a finish to the story of the Settlers' calling my friend a Nazi so many years ago in Hebron.  I was standing next to another soldier from another unit, a short Moroccan Jew who no doubt was a firm supporter of the Likud. As he listened his face got redder and redder until he burst out and said: "These Settlers should all go rot in hell." As I watch from afar the evacuation of Gaza, those are my thoughts exactly.

And I know exactly the perfect hell. Somewhere in another universe, there is a beach chair with the name of every settler, along the coasts of Gaza. And when their day of judgment comes, they will lie bound to those chairs, unable to move. Transfixed in horror, they will listen to the rising trance music, and watch as Gil and Mahmoud give each other a high five, and with boards in hand rush into the surf, for one last ride before the party begins.