Behind the Headlines Israel: Between Trauma and Hope

Almost a year after the Yom Kippur War, Israel seems, at first glance, to have recovered. Dizengoff Street–the Champs Elysee of Tel Aviv–is once again throbbing and vibrant as young people sipping coffee, trade gossip, exchange smiles and jokes along the bustling thoroughfare and in the crowded sidewalk cafes. Yet, despite this surface manifestation of everything-is-back-to-normal, there can be no mistake: Israel is different, Israel has changed and will not be the same again for better or worse. The Israel that I saw this summer is not the Israel that I have known all my life.

“Today I view life very differently. Nothing is the same for me, not even my face in the mirror.” David, my youngest brother, was staring at the green-blue sea lapping languidly along the shore of Tel Aviv and telling me about the Yom Kippur War. Two years ago, when I last saw him, he was a boy. Now he was an adult. David is only 23 years old. His best friend, Eli, was killed on the second day of the war on the Golan Heights. Other friends of David became invalids for life. He himself faced death more than once in the fierce battles on the battle front.

While he was talking about the horrors of the war I realized that he had learned to appreciate life. In fact, he had learned to appreciate everything. But, by the same token he also learned to disregard everything. “Whatever happens now, happens. I do not care. I realized it does not help if you worry….” David’s voice trailed off.

These contradictory feelings–appreciation and disregard–can be traced in almost any Israeli who lived through the trauma of the last war and its aftermath. People are tired. True. But at the same time there is an eagerness to get the most out of life. With unprecedented inflation it seems that for many (many, not all), money is no problem. Someone remarked Jocularly that people do not like money: look how fast they get rid of it.

People scramble for bigger and better apartments; they buy huge TV sets and ostentatiously display them in their huge living rooms bedecked with new carpets purchased abroad. Almost everyone has a car or is striving to get one. Life is too short, and with a car one can save a lot of time.

Are they all detached from reality? Are these the same people who only 10 months ago were faced with a threat to their very existence? It is all too perplexing and there are no easy ways to find answers to the preoccupation and the seemingly insatiable quest for material things. But after a while one suddenly realizes that this new cult of materialism and the pursuit of “the good, sweet life” is the inevitable escape from the trauma of the last war, from the knowledge that real, lasting peace is not yet at hand, and that this awful experience called war might be thrust upon them once again in the near future.

“I don’t see how we can get out of the mess of the Middle East conflict. I have no illusions. I do not think anything will help, except, maybe, one thing: a miracle.” The woman who made this observation was Ariana Haran, the famous Israeli poet from Kevuzat Schiller. After the Yom Kippur War, she mused, one has to believe in miracles to see the Arab-Israeli conflict resolved.

Meanwhile, until that miracle arrives, life continues. A new generation is born. The Yom Kippur War babies, as they are called by some, are already taking their first faltering steps. People, as after any other shattering experience, are much more tolerant and understanding. There is an openness to new ideas, not just on the political level but also on issues that involve the individual and his way of life and his relationships with other people. For example, the issue of women’s liberation is no longer viewed as a problem imported surreptitiously from the United States. The role of women in Israeli society is now a valid issue, and judging by the Israeli press an issue that stirs a great many arguments and emotions.

Many taboos have also disappeared. The issue of emigration from Israel was highly exaggerated. Contrary to impressions created by the international press, not every other person was talking about leaving Israel. What did happen, however, was that the former taboo about leaving Israel, or even talking about it. was shattered During Israel’s 26 years of statehood there was been some emigration. There was a time when those who left Israel were regarded as “traitors.” This is no longer the case. People still do not approve of emigration, but they have, nevertheless, learned to understand. At least, this is the appearance.