I feel compelled to comment on the current political situation in Israel vis-a-vis the flotilla. The current state of affairs in Israel is complex, but in very basic terms, this is my understanding of what happened: a flotilla, sailing in the Mediterranean Sea, was attempting to break Israel's blockade of the Gaza strip by carrying humanitarian supplies to Gaza. In an effort to resolve the situation peacefully, the Israelis offered to reroute the ship to an Israeli port and transfer the humanitarian supplies via land to the Gaza Strip. The passengers aboard the ship rejected this offer. Israeli requests to the ship to stop were also rejected. At this point, diplomatic options exhausted, Israel decided on a military solution. Soldiers were lowered onto the ship from ropes by helicopters. The passenger aboard the ship reacted violently, attacking the soldiers with steel rods, knives, and clubs and attempted to throw the soldiers off of the boat. Fearing for their lives, the soldiers responded by opening fire, resulting in the deaths of nine people. The ship surrendered and was rerouted. Passengers aboard the ship were taken into custody. At present, there are ongoing efforts to return the passengers of the flotilla to their home countries. For diplomatic reasons, Israel has decided not to prosecute anybody aboard the ship.
Before entering into any of the political ramifications of this event, I would like to make clear that I deeply regret the loss of human life that occurred aboard the flotilla. The loss of any life is tragic and irreparable.
With that said, clearly, this event has damaged Israel's stature in the eyes of the international community. The facile, overly-simplified narrative that Israel killed passengers attempting to provide humanitarian aid is readily believed and has widespread currency. Demonstrators are taking to the streets to protest Israel and Israeli actions in countries around the world. Foreign governments have censured Israel, with more on the way. More specifically, Israel's diplomatic relationship with Turkey has been severely harmed. The flotilla has been a PR nightmare for Israel.
In the days and weeks ahead, we will see how this event ramifies across the globe. After this event, I am honestly very concerned about where Israel's position in the international community is headed. For those who are so predisposed, the attack will serve as a demonstration of Israeli depravity. Surely, Israel will receive a lot of criticism in the United Nations--resolutions condemning its actions and so forth. More problematic and dangerous, I fear, will be the response by those in the Middle East who are looking for an excuse to attack Israel. For those who want to demonize Israel, this is the perfect opportunity.
But I also fear that Israel's historically strong alliance with the US will be tested. The fact that Netanyahu canceled his planned meeting with Obama the day after the occurrence is not a good sign. More promising would have been a display of sustained partnership and support. Up to this point, Obama and Netanyahu haven't exactly been best friends, and I worry that this will sour their already fragile relationship. Additionally, yesterday, the New York Times published a scathing editorial about Israel's actions. The revelation that one of the people killed aboard the ship was an American citizen further complicates matters. I feel that there is a growing feeling in America, particularly from the left, that Israel has gone too far, that Israel has crossed the line. I am concerned that America will bow to significant international pressure and abandon an increasingly inconvenient Israeli partnership.
This brings us to my analysis of the situation. What do I think? What should Israel have done? I believe that, in essence, Israel was in a no-win situation. The key point, and the one that I want to stress, is this: prior to boarding the boat, Israel did everything that it could diplomatically to transfer the humanitarian aid aboard the boat to Gaza--provided that no weapons were transferred to Hamas. "Organizers of the flotilla repeatedly rejected Israeli offers to transfer its cargo to Gaza once it was inspected for military contraband" (Michael Oren). After exhausting diplomacy, Israel's options were simple. Either allow the flotilla to land, thus breaking the blockade, or use force. Both options were odious.
The so-called 'freedom flotilla' was no such thing. Instead, it was an insidious attempt to defame Israel in the eyes of the international community. The passengers' actual concern for the well-being of the people of Gaza was secondary, to say the least. The main organization behind the flotilla was the Turkish Humanitarian Relief Fund (IHH). This ostensibly charitable association's main purpose is to divert resources to terror activity. The IHH has close ties with Hamas, al-Qaida, and other militant Islamic organizations.
Israel's policy to inspect the cargo of incoming ships makes perfect sense--especially given the nature of Hamas. Why did the passengers aboard the ship reject this option? If your mission is to bring humanitarian aid to Gaza, why would you have a problem if somebody made sure that you weren't bringing military contraband into the country? The answer should be obvious.
Moreover, the force that Israel used was for the purpose of self-defense; the passengers aboard the boat--with knives, clubs, and bars--struck first. When they landed aboard the boat, the Israeli soldiers did not have their weapons drawn. Soldiers only resorted to violent measures once their lives were put in jeopardy.
If Israel had allowed the boat to dock off the coast of Gaza, without inspecting it, the blockade would have been effectively circumvented. With this as a precedent, subsequent boats could bring rockets and other weapons to Hamas.
And the Israeli blockade of Gaza is both necessary and justified. Hamas, which governs the Gaza strip, is a violent terrorist organization that rules through brute force and executes its opponents. It refuses to recognize agreements between the PA and Israel and even denies Israel's right to exist. During the Gaza initiative of 2008 and 2009, Hamas tried to maximize the number of its civilian casualties to harm Israel's reputation. Since 2006, Hamas has fired over 10,000 rockets into Israel. Hamas has absolutely no intention of making peace with Israel and will not stop its resistance until Israel is destroyed. This is the reality of who we are dealing with. The blockade exists in order to weaken, through nonviolent means, this vile, malevolent organization.
Of course, I regret the state of the people of Gaza. I wish that something could be done to ameliorate their condition. 1.5 million people are confined to an area that is 25 miles long and 3 to 7 miles wide; the population density of Gaza is over ten times that of Israel and over a hundred times that of the US. Israel regulates the basic foodstuffs and medicine that enter Gaza. Basic goods, such as notebooks, writing utensils, and chocolate, are not allowed in. Some have estimated that 10 percent suffer from malnutrition. And, of course, the people of Gaza are governed by Hamas.
And therein lies the problem. If the Gaza strip were governed by a rational government which protected human rights--rather than by a terrorist organization--then I am sure that things would be much better. As it stands, Israel is forced to maintain the blockade, which results in such terrible living conditions, in order to defend itself. The blame for the state of the Gaza Strip lies not with Israel, but with Hamas.
Is the current situation tenable? Can Israel maintain the blockade in the face of international pressure and the possibility of more 'freedom flotillas'? What will happen to this fragile state of affairs? I am not sure. I wish some workable solution could be reached which improves the condition of the people of Gaza, while maintaining Israeli security. I wish that insidious attempts to delegitimize Israel in the eyes of the international community were less successful. I wish that the reality of Israel's situation was more widely understood.
I hope that in the days and weeks ahead the political fallout from the flotilla is contained and that Netanyahu and his government manage to successfully negotiate the difficult terrain ahead. And I certainly hope that, for the sake of both Israel and those aboard, more 'freedom flotillas' do not occur. We cannot handle another such catastrophe.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
On Gilad Shalit
On June 25, 2006, an Israeli soldier was captured by Palestinian militants in a cross-border raid. At the moment that I am writing this, that soldier, Gilad Shalit, remains in the Gaza Strip as a prisoner of Hamas. As of today, Galid Shalit has been in captivity for 1371 days. His continued captivity is a blemish upon the Israeli national consciousness and an affront to Israeli self-respect.
How is it possible that one of our own soldiers--soldiers who make a tremendous sacrifice and who the Israeli government ostensibly does everything to protect--could be in captivity for so long? Why is Gilad Shalit still a prisoner, and, more importantly, what must be done in order to free him? What can we do to bring Gilad Shalit home to his concerned and doubtlessly overwrought family?
Like seemingly all things in Israel, the answer is a complicated one. The central issue is this: How much is Israel willing to give up for the life of a single soldier? How Israel responds to this issue has said and will say an awful lot about Israeli society and Israeli mores.
In July 2005, Gilad Shalit enlisted as a soldier in the IDF. He followed in the footsteps of his older brother, Yoel, and elected to serve in a combat unit. In enlisting as a soldier, Gilad Shalit was no different from the majority of Israelis. Unlike the United States and many other countries, military service in Israel is compulsory; unless there is some outstanding reason which prevents military service, everyone is required to serve.
The obligation to serve in the military--and the military in general--play prominent roles in Israeli society. From a young age, Israeli children are forced to cope with the reality that once they reach an appropriate age--shortly after graduation from high school--they will have to serve in the army for two or three years (depending on gender). Society expects this of them. And military service is not easy. From what I have heard (I have not served in the military), soldiers sleep fours hours a night; go on long marches with 25 kilogram backpacks; must learn how to operate a machine gun; and are often pushed to their physical and psychological limits.
But even more than this, by agreeing to serve in the military, Israelis, in many cases, put their lives on the line. The reality is that Israeli soldiers do die in the defense of their country. Whether it's from Hamas, Lebanon, Syria, or countless other enemies, Israel is always at war; Israel must always fight to defend itself. And even soldiers who don't fight in wars such as The Second Lebanon War in 2006 or the Gaza War in 2008-2009, assume a substantial risk that they will be killed by such enemies.
Consequently, Israeli society expects that the military will do everything in its power to keep soldiers safe and, if they are abducted, bring soldiers home. This is the de facto contract that the IDF makes with Israeli families and parents: you agree to let your 18 year old son or daughter serve in the military and we agree to do everything that we can to bring them home safe and sound. In the absence of such an understanding, parents would never let their children serve in the IDF; if it appeared that the IDF was needlessly endangering soldiers or failing to ensure their securty, Israeli mothers and fathers would protest and far fewer young men and women would enlist.
When Gilad Shalit enlisted in the IDF, he was doing so based on such an understanding--that the Israeli army and government would do everything that they could to ensure his safety. And indeed, since Gilad's capture, the Israeli government has made tremendous diplomatic and military efforts to free him (from Wikipedia). Immediately after his capture, in the words of an Israeli spokesman, "Israel did everything it could in exhausting all diplomatic options." Additionally, shortly after Gilad's capture, on June 28, 2006, Israel launched a military offensive which resulted in the death of 277 Palestinians and 5 Israeli soldiers. Since June 2006, after these initial attempts to liberate Shalit failed, the Israeli government, under both Netanyahu and Olmert, has been involved in ongoing negotiations to free the Israeli soldier. More recently, in January 2009, "it was reported that Israel was offering to free 1000 prisoners in exchange for Shalit." And in March of 2009, it appeared that a deal to free Gilad was close. Since Gilad is still in captivity, clearly, at some point, negotiations broke down.
This leaves us with the question and the issue that I would like to focus on: Is the life of Gilad Shalit worth 1000 prisoners or should Gilad be made to sacrifice himself for the greater good of Israeli society? Obviously, any answer that I provide will be fraught with controversy.
On one hand we have the following: While Gilad's capture is certainly tragic and upsetting, under no circumstances can Israel accede to Hamas's demands. Freeing a 1000 prisoners, many, if not most, of whom are extremely dangerous, would represent a grave threat to Israeli society. In all probability, the prisoners released in this deal would eventually result in the death of more that one Israeli. Why is Gilad Shalit's life more valuable than the other Israelis who would almost certainly be killed? In negotiating for Gilad Shalit, we must consider not only his life and well being but the life and well-being of all Israelis. Gilad is no more important than any other Israeli and such a capitulation would do grave damage to Israeli society as a whole. As hard as it is, for the good of the Israeli people, the Israeli government must refuse to free 1000 of its prisoners for the life of a single soldier.
Moreover, such a capitulation would set a dangerous precedent and would encourage Hamas to carry out similar actions in the future. If the capture and detention of one soldier results in the liberation of 1000 Palestinians, then Hamas has an obvious incentive to capture and detain more soldiers in the future. Doing so would almost certainly result in the liberation of more of their prisoners. This is crystal clear.
The above argument is rational and logically convincing. I cannot agree with it, however. We do not always decide based on reason and logical analysis, nor should we. Feelings--our emotional responses to a given situation--play a large role. And, if it were up to me, I would be completely incapable--emotionally--of looking Noam and Aviva Shalit in the eye and saying that Israel did not do everything in it power to free Gilad Shalit. Whether this involves military operations or freeing scores of prisoners, Gilad Shalit must return home. This goes back to the implicit contract that Israel makes with all of its soldiers (which I described), and, on a deeper level, to the idea that, in Israel, we are a family. It is unacceptable for the Israeli government to fail to do everything in its power to bring a soldier home. Whether rational or not, this is how I honestly feel.
We go through life and experience things as individuals. Just as I am individual, with my own perceptions and experience, so is Gilad Shalit. For that matter, so is everyone. The idea, then, that it's just one person, just one soldier, does not hold water for we are all just one person, just one soldier. And if I were in similar circumstances I would expect the Israeli government to respond in the same way that I am advocating. When Gilad Shalit enlisted in the IDF, this was the understanding that he enlisted under. He deserves the utmost from Israeli society and the Israeli government, no less.
That is my forthright opinion on Gilad Shalit. And I think that his captivity speaks volumes about both Hamas and Israel. From this case, it is strikingly clear that Hamas takes advantage of Israeli good will and morality, that Hamas uses Israel's moral standing in order to manipulate us for its own ends. This is a consistent problem that Israel faces in negotiation after negotiation with our negotiating partners--be they Hamas, Fatah, or others. While Gilad Shalit is having his rights as a human being violated, Israel is considering giving up countless prisoners to the other side. So it goes.
Admittedly, I have no idea how to solve this problem, how to change this dynamic, but I think that it says a whole lot about Israeli society that we are willing to go to such great lengths to free one of our own. I sincerely hope that, in the near future, Gilad Shalit returns to his loving family and his grateful nation.
How is it possible that one of our own soldiers--soldiers who make a tremendous sacrifice and who the Israeli government ostensibly does everything to protect--could be in captivity for so long? Why is Gilad Shalit still a prisoner, and, more importantly, what must be done in order to free him? What can we do to bring Gilad Shalit home to his concerned and doubtlessly overwrought family?
Like seemingly all things in Israel, the answer is a complicated one. The central issue is this: How much is Israel willing to give up for the life of a single soldier? How Israel responds to this issue has said and will say an awful lot about Israeli society and Israeli mores.
In July 2005, Gilad Shalit enlisted as a soldier in the IDF. He followed in the footsteps of his older brother, Yoel, and elected to serve in a combat unit. In enlisting as a soldier, Gilad Shalit was no different from the majority of Israelis. Unlike the United States and many other countries, military service in Israel is compulsory; unless there is some outstanding reason which prevents military service, everyone is required to serve.
The obligation to serve in the military--and the military in general--play prominent roles in Israeli society. From a young age, Israeli children are forced to cope with the reality that once they reach an appropriate age--shortly after graduation from high school--they will have to serve in the army for two or three years (depending on gender). Society expects this of them. And military service is not easy. From what I have heard (I have not served in the military), soldiers sleep fours hours a night; go on long marches with 25 kilogram backpacks; must learn how to operate a machine gun; and are often pushed to their physical and psychological limits.
But even more than this, by agreeing to serve in the military, Israelis, in many cases, put their lives on the line. The reality is that Israeli soldiers do die in the defense of their country. Whether it's from Hamas, Lebanon, Syria, or countless other enemies, Israel is always at war; Israel must always fight to defend itself. And even soldiers who don't fight in wars such as The Second Lebanon War in 2006 or the Gaza War in 2008-2009, assume a substantial risk that they will be killed by such enemies.
Consequently, Israeli society expects that the military will do everything in its power to keep soldiers safe and, if they are abducted, bring soldiers home. This is the de facto contract that the IDF makes with Israeli families and parents: you agree to let your 18 year old son or daughter serve in the military and we agree to do everything that we can to bring them home safe and sound. In the absence of such an understanding, parents would never let their children serve in the IDF; if it appeared that the IDF was needlessly endangering soldiers or failing to ensure their securty, Israeli mothers and fathers would protest and far fewer young men and women would enlist.
When Gilad Shalit enlisted in the IDF, he was doing so based on such an understanding--that the Israeli army and government would do everything that they could to ensure his safety. And indeed, since Gilad's capture, the Israeli government has made tremendous diplomatic and military efforts to free him (from Wikipedia). Immediately after his capture, in the words of an Israeli spokesman, "Israel did everything it could in exhausting all diplomatic options." Additionally, shortly after Gilad's capture, on June 28, 2006, Israel launched a military offensive which resulted in the death of 277 Palestinians and 5 Israeli soldiers. Since June 2006, after these initial attempts to liberate Shalit failed, the Israeli government, under both Netanyahu and Olmert, has been involved in ongoing negotiations to free the Israeli soldier. More recently, in January 2009, "it was reported that Israel was offering to free 1000 prisoners in exchange for Shalit." And in March of 2009, it appeared that a deal to free Gilad was close. Since Gilad is still in captivity, clearly, at some point, negotiations broke down.
This leaves us with the question and the issue that I would like to focus on: Is the life of Gilad Shalit worth 1000 prisoners or should Gilad be made to sacrifice himself for the greater good of Israeli society? Obviously, any answer that I provide will be fraught with controversy.
On one hand we have the following: While Gilad's capture is certainly tragic and upsetting, under no circumstances can Israel accede to Hamas's demands. Freeing a 1000 prisoners, many, if not most, of whom are extremely dangerous, would represent a grave threat to Israeli society. In all probability, the prisoners released in this deal would eventually result in the death of more that one Israeli. Why is Gilad Shalit's life more valuable than the other Israelis who would almost certainly be killed? In negotiating for Gilad Shalit, we must consider not only his life and well being but the life and well-being of all Israelis. Gilad is no more important than any other Israeli and such a capitulation would do grave damage to Israeli society as a whole. As hard as it is, for the good of the Israeli people, the Israeli government must refuse to free 1000 of its prisoners for the life of a single soldier.
Moreover, such a capitulation would set a dangerous precedent and would encourage Hamas to carry out similar actions in the future. If the capture and detention of one soldier results in the liberation of 1000 Palestinians, then Hamas has an obvious incentive to capture and detain more soldiers in the future. Doing so would almost certainly result in the liberation of more of their prisoners. This is crystal clear.
The above argument is rational and logically convincing. I cannot agree with it, however. We do not always decide based on reason and logical analysis, nor should we. Feelings--our emotional responses to a given situation--play a large role. And, if it were up to me, I would be completely incapable--emotionally--of looking Noam and Aviva Shalit in the eye and saying that Israel did not do everything in it power to free Gilad Shalit. Whether this involves military operations or freeing scores of prisoners, Gilad Shalit must return home. This goes back to the implicit contract that Israel makes with all of its soldiers (which I described), and, on a deeper level, to the idea that, in Israel, we are a family. It is unacceptable for the Israeli government to fail to do everything in its power to bring a soldier home. Whether rational or not, this is how I honestly feel.
We go through life and experience things as individuals. Just as I am individual, with my own perceptions and experience, so is Gilad Shalit. For that matter, so is everyone. The idea, then, that it's just one person, just one soldier, does not hold water for we are all just one person, just one soldier. And if I were in similar circumstances I would expect the Israeli government to respond in the same way that I am advocating. When Gilad Shalit enlisted in the IDF, this was the understanding that he enlisted under. He deserves the utmost from Israeli society and the Israeli government, no less.
That is my forthright opinion on Gilad Shalit. And I think that his captivity speaks volumes about both Hamas and Israel. From this case, it is strikingly clear that Hamas takes advantage of Israeli good will and morality, that Hamas uses Israel's moral standing in order to manipulate us for its own ends. This is a consistent problem that Israel faces in negotiation after negotiation with our negotiating partners--be they Hamas, Fatah, or others. While Gilad Shalit is having his rights as a human being violated, Israel is considering giving up countless prisoners to the other side. So it goes.
Admittedly, I have no idea how to solve this problem, how to change this dynamic, but I think that it says a whole lot about Israeli society that we are willing to go to such great lengths to free one of our own. I sincerely hope that, in the near future, Gilad Shalit returns to his loving family and his grateful nation.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Freedom of Expression, Chutzpah, and the Israeli Psyche
I'd like to touch on something that I wrote about in my last blog-the freedom of expression and chutzpah that are characteristic of Israeli society. As I said, I was most struck by this element of Israeli culture. Although it takes some getting used to, I believe that free expression--and yes chutzpah--as it exists in Israel is, on balance, a good thing.
Growing up in the United States, I was conditioned to take extraordinary care that I never offended anyone. As I grew up, the notion of political correctness grew with me. During the 1990's and early 2000's, I experienced an ever-evolving phenomenon wherein less and less could be said on the grounds that someone, anyone, might find it offensive or objectionable.
Some of this is completely fine. I have no problem with not saying ethnic, racial, or sexist slurs, for example. In fact, I think that people should refrain from doing so.
Other parts of it I find problematic, however. Most obvious are the expressions that Americans use to get around describing someone who possesses a trait which society deems undesirable. Old people are not old; they are 'older'. Fat people are not fat; they have a 'weight problem.' Poor people are not poor; they are 'monetarily challenged,' etc. You get the point.
The fact of the matter is that old people, fat people, and poor people all exist, and this is completely fine. Instead of trying to circumvent someone's age or weight or income through extreme sensitivity and political correctness, society should just accept people for who they are and move on. In fact, I think that saying someone is 'older' instead of 'old' exacerbates things. It suggests that one's condition is so bad that we don't even want to talk about it. Moreover, saying that someone is 'older' as opposed to 'old' does nothing to address the underlying issue, which, incidentally, I do not find so bad. People get old. So what?
But this is just the tip of the iceberg. Americans, at least in my experience, are conditioned not to express certain emotions--most especially anger--within social circumstances. But, in reality, people do get angry and upset and frustrated. This is completely natural. And again, not expressing emotions does nothing to alleviate the underlying situation.
What this engenders is a society wherein one is constantly walking on egg shells, thinking about every single word in order not to offend someone. This creates a culture wherein no one can say what they really think or feel because it may be deemed offensive or politically incorrect.
And what happens if you do make a mistake and say something which could be construed as being offensive? You run the risk of getting sued, that's what.
I am a sensitive person who is very aware of the emotions of the person to whom I am speaking, but I believe that sensitivity and political correctness as it currently exists in the US has gone too far. So far that it impedes the flow of honest and open discourse.
In Israel, I found a very different situation. Israeli culture is predicated upon argument. The immediate and almost involuntary reaction of any Israeli to almost anything that you say is "No." For example, "Do you have change for twenty shekels (about five dollars)?," I ask the cashier who does, in fact, have change. "No." "Can I see the doctor,?" I ask the woman at the clinic when the doctor is sitting in his room. "No, go somewhere else." "Can you help me with signing up for classes," I ask the academic secretary. "No. It's not my responsibility."
I disagree. Whatever you said is wrong and, in fact, the exact opposite is true. No, no way, absolutely not.
But along with this comes the freedom--short of insulting or attacking the person you are talking to--of saying nearly anything. And this is how Israeli society works. I say one thing. You say the opposite. And then we argue for however long it takes to figure out who wins. One quickly learns that the best way to win such arguments is to be as loud and demonstrative as possible--as angry and direct as one can be. People who are polite, considerate and deferential get stepped upon. Hence, the characteristic Israeli rudeness. Israeli society is defined by a constant, unrelenting war of words, and chutzpah wins battles.
This system does not work in the arena of customer service. It's maddening when someone, whose job is to provide service to the public, refuses to help simply because they don't feel like it or it's inconvenient.
A good example. I was unable to schedule an appointment with my doctor over the internet because the site of the health care provider wasn't working. Fine. So, I went to the clinic itself and spoke to someone, essentially in customer service, who told me that I couldn't
schedule an appointment because my file had not arrived from my previous clinic. (I had moved to another section of town.) So, she called the previous clinic and spoke to someone there. He told her to call tomorrow. "Show up tomorrow," she said. Okay, this is understandable. The next day I show up, the file isn't there, and no one has spoken to anyone. I speak to one of the representatives again, explaining my situation. She tries to call the previous clinic a couple of times, but no one answers. Eventually, she just gives up and tells me that I am completely unable to schedule an appointment with my doctor in the foreseeable future and that if I have an emergency I should see the nurses. What the fuck? I was not surprised when I heard that Israeli customer service is among the worst in the world.
Apart from customer service, however, I believe that the Israeli system is better in a number of respects. First, of all, however you feel--if you are angry or upset or frustrated--no one has a problem if you express your emotions. In fact, emotional expression is encouraged. This leads to more genuine, open relationships and more honest, real discourse about actual feelings. Indeed, I have much more meaningful relationships in Israel than I do in the US.
Israeli society is also much more flexible than society in the US. Instead of relying on protocol and policy like America, issues here are mostly decided on a case by case basis. Most of the time, problems are solved through a process of argument and explanation without recourse to people in positions of authority or to official protocol. Instead of speaking to an organization with a set of rules one speaks to an individual. In any given case, one is free to explain his or her situation and argue for him or herself. This is one of the reasons that Israelis are so adept at handling changing situations and crises.
For instance, a few weeks ago, I received a letter from the library telling me that every single book that I had was due. So, acting on a hunch, I went to the library, spoke to someone at the desk, and explained that I was registered as a student for the next year. She simply took my student card, saw the sticker for the next year of study, and entered my name in the computer. I was registered as a student and the books were no longer due. Problem solved. The entire thing took about a minute. I am certain that in the US, if the same situation were to occur, things would have taken much longer.
The freedom of expression characteristic of Israeli society extends to all spheres of life. People are completely free to criticize the government and to engage in nonviolent protests. I have never seen so many protests--protests by angry Charedim about a parking lot open on shabbat; protests by students about tuition increases; frequent protests about the Gaza Strip; a protest by community members about the closing of a pool. Such freedom to criticize the existing state of affairs is an intrinsic good.
Finally, as a result of this constant argument, Israelis have very thick skin. The argumentation which characterizes Israeli society has a salutary effect on the psyches of its members. Israelis don't take offense as easily as Americans. Something that would be considered inappropriate or offensive in the US is commonplace here. Israelis also have a tremendous capacity to retain their balance and equanimity. Two people who have just engaged in a long, heated argument have no problem staying friends. Despite what the Western media might suggest, in truth, Israelis are a very nonviolent people and rarely use physical attacks or personal insults. The constant struggle that takes place among us here is conducted through words, not violent actions. Ultimately, living in Israel makes one a stronger, better person.
Freedom of expression as it exists in Israel--with all of its insensitivity, offensiveness, and chutzpa--is preferable to the the extreme sensitivity which characterizes discourse in the US. Here, I am not walking on eggshells, always afraid that I am going to offend or insult someone. Life here takes some getting used to, but I think that it is far healthier.
There is a feeling in Israel that, "we are all friends." We are all members of the same family working toward a common goal. And like a family we are open and direct with one another. Ultimately, then, the source of Israeli insensitivity and chutzpah is not widespread dislike and scorn but its very opposite, a universal friendship.
Growing up in the United States, I was conditioned to take extraordinary care that I never offended anyone. As I grew up, the notion of political correctness grew with me. During the 1990's and early 2000's, I experienced an ever-evolving phenomenon wherein less and less could be said on the grounds that someone, anyone, might find it offensive or objectionable.
Some of this is completely fine. I have no problem with not saying ethnic, racial, or sexist slurs, for example. In fact, I think that people should refrain from doing so.
Other parts of it I find problematic, however. Most obvious are the expressions that Americans use to get around describing someone who possesses a trait which society deems undesirable. Old people are not old; they are 'older'. Fat people are not fat; they have a 'weight problem.' Poor people are not poor; they are 'monetarily challenged,' etc. You get the point.
The fact of the matter is that old people, fat people, and poor people all exist, and this is completely fine. Instead of trying to circumvent someone's age or weight or income through extreme sensitivity and political correctness, society should just accept people for who they are and move on. In fact, I think that saying someone is 'older' instead of 'old' exacerbates things. It suggests that one's condition is so bad that we don't even want to talk about it. Moreover, saying that someone is 'older' as opposed to 'old' does nothing to address the underlying issue, which, incidentally, I do not find so bad. People get old. So what?
But this is just the tip of the iceberg. Americans, at least in my experience, are conditioned not to express certain emotions--most especially anger--within social circumstances. But, in reality, people do get angry and upset and frustrated. This is completely natural. And again, not expressing emotions does nothing to alleviate the underlying situation.
What this engenders is a society wherein one is constantly walking on egg shells, thinking about every single word in order not to offend someone. This creates a culture wherein no one can say what they really think or feel because it may be deemed offensive or politically incorrect.
And what happens if you do make a mistake and say something which could be construed as being offensive? You run the risk of getting sued, that's what.
I am a sensitive person who is very aware of the emotions of the person to whom I am speaking, but I believe that sensitivity and political correctness as it currently exists in the US has gone too far. So far that it impedes the flow of honest and open discourse.
In Israel, I found a very different situation. Israeli culture is predicated upon argument. The immediate and almost involuntary reaction of any Israeli to almost anything that you say is "No." For example, "Do you have change for twenty shekels (about five dollars)?," I ask the cashier who does, in fact, have change. "No." "Can I see the doctor,?" I ask the woman at the clinic when the doctor is sitting in his room. "No, go somewhere else." "Can you help me with signing up for classes," I ask the academic secretary. "No. It's not my responsibility."
I disagree. Whatever you said is wrong and, in fact, the exact opposite is true. No, no way, absolutely not.
But along with this comes the freedom--short of insulting or attacking the person you are talking to--of saying nearly anything. And this is how Israeli society works. I say one thing. You say the opposite. And then we argue for however long it takes to figure out who wins. One quickly learns that the best way to win such arguments is to be as loud and demonstrative as possible--as angry and direct as one can be. People who are polite, considerate and deferential get stepped upon. Hence, the characteristic Israeli rudeness. Israeli society is defined by a constant, unrelenting war of words, and chutzpah wins battles.
This system does not work in the arena of customer service. It's maddening when someone, whose job is to provide service to the public, refuses to help simply because they don't feel like it or it's inconvenient.
A good example. I was unable to schedule an appointment with my doctor over the internet because the site of the health care provider wasn't working. Fine. So, I went to the clinic itself and spoke to someone, essentially in customer service, who told me that I couldn't
schedule an appointment because my file had not arrived from my previous clinic. (I had moved to another section of town.) So, she called the previous clinic and spoke to someone there. He told her to call tomorrow. "Show up tomorrow," she said. Okay, this is understandable. The next day I show up, the file isn't there, and no one has spoken to anyone. I speak to one of the representatives again, explaining my situation. She tries to call the previous clinic a couple of times, but no one answers. Eventually, she just gives up and tells me that I am completely unable to schedule an appointment with my doctor in the foreseeable future and that if I have an emergency I should see the nurses. What the fuck? I was not surprised when I heard that Israeli customer service is among the worst in the world.
Apart from customer service, however, I believe that the Israeli system is better in a number of respects. First, of all, however you feel--if you are angry or upset or frustrated--no one has a problem if you express your emotions. In fact, emotional expression is encouraged. This leads to more genuine, open relationships and more honest, real discourse about actual feelings. Indeed, I have much more meaningful relationships in Israel than I do in the US.
Israeli society is also much more flexible than society in the US. Instead of relying on protocol and policy like America, issues here are mostly decided on a case by case basis. Most of the time, problems are solved through a process of argument and explanation without recourse to people in positions of authority or to official protocol. Instead of speaking to an organization with a set of rules one speaks to an individual. In any given case, one is free to explain his or her situation and argue for him or herself. This is one of the reasons that Israelis are so adept at handling changing situations and crises.
For instance, a few weeks ago, I received a letter from the library telling me that every single book that I had was due. So, acting on a hunch, I went to the library, spoke to someone at the desk, and explained that I was registered as a student for the next year. She simply took my student card, saw the sticker for the next year of study, and entered my name in the computer. I was registered as a student and the books were no longer due. Problem solved. The entire thing took about a minute. I am certain that in the US, if the same situation were to occur, things would have taken much longer.
The freedom of expression characteristic of Israeli society extends to all spheres of life. People are completely free to criticize the government and to engage in nonviolent protests. I have never seen so many protests--protests by angry Charedim about a parking lot open on shabbat; protests by students about tuition increases; frequent protests about the Gaza Strip; a protest by community members about the closing of a pool. Such freedom to criticize the existing state of affairs is an intrinsic good.
Finally, as a result of this constant argument, Israelis have very thick skin. The argumentation which characterizes Israeli society has a salutary effect on the psyches of its members. Israelis don't take offense as easily as Americans. Something that would be considered inappropriate or offensive in the US is commonplace here. Israelis also have a tremendous capacity to retain their balance and equanimity. Two people who have just engaged in a long, heated argument have no problem staying friends. Despite what the Western media might suggest, in truth, Israelis are a very nonviolent people and rarely use physical attacks or personal insults. The constant struggle that takes place among us here is conducted through words, not violent actions. Ultimately, living in Israel makes one a stronger, better person.
Freedom of expression as it exists in Israel--with all of its insensitivity, offensiveness, and chutzpa--is preferable to the the extreme sensitivity which characterizes discourse in the US. Here, I am not walking on eggshells, always afraid that I am going to offend or insult someone. Life here takes some getting used to, but I think that it is far healthier.
There is a feeling in Israel that, "we are all friends." We are all members of the same family working toward a common goal. And like a family we are open and direct with one another. Ultimately, then, the source of Israeli insensitivity and chutzpah is not widespread dislike and scorn but its very opposite, a universal friendship.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Shalom
Alright, so I guess this is the beginning--my first blog. I am not sure how this will develop, or if it will develop at all. Will this blog be something of a journal wherein I recount my daily experiences? Or a platform for explication of my political opinions and beliefs? Or perhaps a means to transmit nascent literary works? Or all of the above? I'm not sure. I expect that things will develop organically; I'm certainly not going to stick to any plans or schedules, any fixed rules.
Ideally, I hope that this blog serves as the basis for some type of artistic and personal growth and as the medium for a shared experience. I have always been very reticent and guarded, and maybe this blog will enable me to change that. Or maybe not. We'll see.
I suppose that some type of introduction is in order. My name is Benjamin Weisberger and for the past four years, more or less, I have been living on my own, more or less, in Jerusalem. I am nearly thirty years old--which I find somewhat frightening and hard to believe. I am also a graduate student in philosophy at Hebrew University--a graduate student who still needs to write his thesis.
I have experienced a lot in my life and (like everyone else) my character has been shaped by these experiences. But I don't want to dwell on the past; I don't want to recount the events and occurrences that brought me to this point. Frankly, a lot of it is painful and uninteresting.
I guess what I do want to talk about is my daily life here and now. What I think; what I feel; what I see; what I remember.
On a daily basis, one experiences quite a lot as a resident of Israel, and especially as a resident of Jerusalem. Things are very intense here, and there is more freedom of expression.
You can say whatever you want because no one is really in charge. It's simply a matter of who screams the loudest. You are free to shout at whomever you want about any issue, and there are no consequences. The Israeli mentality is, by its very nature, confrontational. This is very different from life in the US where politeness and political correctness are expected.
Today, in the middle of the street, I saw what appeared to be an Arabic taxi driver--whose car was parked immediately in front of the bus--screaming at the stopped bus driver for a good five minutes. He was incensed and repeatedly made threatening gestures, at one point opening up the driver's window. This caused traffic to stop, leading to honking, more shouting, and improvisational driving by other vehicles in order to get around the blockage. I thought almost nothing of it and continued walking.
I remember going to the supermarket and seeing an argument between two women develop into a physical altercation--they were slapping and hitting each other--as one woman refused to move and the other needed to get by. Things like this happen on an almost daily basis.
Once, when I was in a pharmacy, a woman, for no apparent or real reason, started shouting in Hebrew, at literally the top of her lungs, repeatedly, "This is terribly slow. This is terribly slow." Like all of the other customers, I watched as this continued for minute after minute. Then she started shouting at the workers, again demanding that things speed up. Things were resolved once the manager of the pharmacy showed up and convinced the furious woman that, in fact,
there was no real problem at all. Everyone in the pharmacy kept on going as if nothing had happened.
My purpose here is not to make a judgement about the character of life in the US or Israel, but merely to illustrate the profound differences between the two cultures in which I have lived. At least in my experience, none of the three incidents which I have described would ever happen in the US. It takes some getting used to.
At the same time, I feel that there is a genuiness, an openness, in Israel which is lacking in the US. If you ask someone in Israel a question, usually, not always, they will tell you what they really think. If you ask someone in the US a question, usually, not always, they will tell you what they are supposed to say. I am aware of the perils of overgeneralization, but I think that this holds true.
And I don't want to depict Israel as a country which consists entirely of people yelling at one another. There is a lot to Israel which is very meaningful and very beautiful. But I would say that this difference between Israel and the US is the most salient, the most striking.
OK. That's my first blog. It wasn't so painful. Maybe I'll blog again some time. But for now, bye.
Ideally, I hope that this blog serves as the basis for some type of artistic and personal growth and as the medium for a shared experience. I have always been very reticent and guarded, and maybe this blog will enable me to change that. Or maybe not. We'll see.
I suppose that some type of introduction is in order. My name is Benjamin Weisberger and for the past four years, more or less, I have been living on my own, more or less, in Jerusalem. I am nearly thirty years old--which I find somewhat frightening and hard to believe. I am also a graduate student in philosophy at Hebrew University--a graduate student who still needs to write his thesis.
I have experienced a lot in my life and (like everyone else) my character has been shaped by these experiences. But I don't want to dwell on the past; I don't want to recount the events and occurrences that brought me to this point. Frankly, a lot of it is painful and uninteresting.
I guess what I do want to talk about is my daily life here and now. What I think; what I feel; what I see; what I remember.
On a daily basis, one experiences quite a lot as a resident of Israel, and especially as a resident of Jerusalem. Things are very intense here, and there is more freedom of expression.
You can say whatever you want because no one is really in charge. It's simply a matter of who screams the loudest. You are free to shout at whomever you want about any issue, and there are no consequences. The Israeli mentality is, by its very nature, confrontational. This is very different from life in the US where politeness and political correctness are expected.
Today, in the middle of the street, I saw what appeared to be an Arabic taxi driver--whose car was parked immediately in front of the bus--screaming at the stopped bus driver for a good five minutes. He was incensed and repeatedly made threatening gestures, at one point opening up the driver's window. This caused traffic to stop, leading to honking, more shouting, and improvisational driving by other vehicles in order to get around the blockage. I thought almost nothing of it and continued walking.
I remember going to the supermarket and seeing an argument between two women develop into a physical altercation--they were slapping and hitting each other--as one woman refused to move and the other needed to get by. Things like this happen on an almost daily basis.
Once, when I was in a pharmacy, a woman, for no apparent or real reason, started shouting in Hebrew, at literally the top of her lungs, repeatedly, "This is terribly slow. This is terribly slow." Like all of the other customers, I watched as this continued for minute after minute. Then she started shouting at the workers, again demanding that things speed up. Things were resolved once the manager of the pharmacy showed up and convinced the furious woman that, in fact,
there was no real problem at all. Everyone in the pharmacy kept on going as if nothing had happened.
My purpose here is not to make a judgement about the character of life in the US or Israel, but merely to illustrate the profound differences between the two cultures in which I have lived. At least in my experience, none of the three incidents which I have described would ever happen in the US. It takes some getting used to.
At the same time, I feel that there is a genuiness, an openness, in Israel which is lacking in the US. If you ask someone in Israel a question, usually, not always, they will tell you what they really think. If you ask someone in the US a question, usually, not always, they will tell you what they are supposed to say. I am aware of the perils of overgeneralization, but I think that this holds true.
And I don't want to depict Israel as a country which consists entirely of people yelling at one another. There is a lot to Israel which is very meaningful and very beautiful. But I would say that this difference between Israel and the US is the most salient, the most striking.
OK. That's my first blog. It wasn't so painful. Maybe I'll blog again some time. But for now, bye.
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