The broken pledges of Ariel Sharon cannot be raised again. Too many words have been spilt onto too many pages describing the dwarfing of the great giant that was Ariel Sharon. His pledges that Netzarim and Tel Aviv were identical and that no Jew would be uprooted from his home were easily uprooted in a man whose sense of vision has waned.



Those pledges should and could never have been taken too seriously. The pledges of men who take their personal views too seriously and arrogantly are fragile and weak promises. On the other hand, the pledges that cannot be broken are the pledges of a nation to their G-d and to their destiny. We read in Tehillim 137:



"By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. Upon the willows in the midst thereof we hanged up our harps. For there they that led us captive asked of us words of song, and our tormentors asked of us mirth: 'Sing us one of the songs of Zion.' How shall we sing HaShem's song in a foreign land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand lose its strength. Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I remember thee not; if I set not Jerusalem above my chiefest joy."



In a very disturbing news report, we learn of the preparations being conducted for the upcoming expulsion of the Jews from the northern Shomron and from Gush Katif. The preparations are so cruel and difficult that the administration has allocated psychologists to work both with the policemen and with their wives. The policemen will be trained in how to wrench babies from their mothers' arms. They will be taught how to break hands and legs in order to facilitate the expulsion. They were even assured that all policemen involved in this activity would be given immunity from any resulting accusations of brutality. They have been given the impression that they do not have to abide by the law requiring that they wear identifying badges during police activities.



The psychological trauma that will haunt these policemen after the planned expulsion, the breaking of hands and the wrenching apart of families, will leave permanent scars .The horrific dilemma of forcing men and women who joined Israel's armed forces and the police to protect the Jewish people to do the opposite will become unbearable. This is especially true when they are being asked to do so in the name of a policy that does not even ask for reciprocal benefits. Jews are being expelled from their homes without even the pretext of demanding a thing from the other side. The trauma of being obedient to the changing whims of our prime minister will prove to be deeply painful and eternally traumatic. After all is said and done, these policemen and policewomen are our brothers and sisters.



They are not the enemy. This illogical and arrogant policy is.



It is no wonder that the government is doing all it can to enlist and arrange for as many Druze and Bedouin soldiers as possible to be involved in this expulsion. It is another indication of how clear and obvious this emotional crisis looms, even in the minds of our decision-makers.



Amidst all these pledges of ameliorating the desires of a hostile world and the promise of the trauma of expulsion and the pledge of broken hands, there is a pledge that will not be broken: "If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand lose its strength."



If I forget Jerusalem and the divine destiny it represents, then my power will wane. My right hand will lose its strength. It is in keeping with that pledge that tens of thousands of Jews will face the riot horses and the water cannons .It with that pledge that we will look deep into the eyes of our brothers and sisters who will come against the pledge. Deep in their eyes, we and they will see the ultimate truth.



A broken hand will mend, but a broken pledge can never be repaired.