Whatever the price, whatever the sacrifice, we will not back down. We will not give up one centimeter of Arab land
We are approaching ‘the three weeks’ as they are known, three weeks beginning on the Hebrew date, the 17th of Tammuz, thru the 9th of Av (the 29th of June – 20 July). These three weeks are a time of intense mourning, marking the destruction of the first and second Temples, the Beit HaMikdash, so many thousands of years ago.

This period of time also represents the beginning of the end, as we approach the final days and weeks of the year, by the Hebrew calendar. This is also a time of introspection, usually accompanied by the word ‘Tshuva,’ which, loosely translated, is repentance.  This, as we take up an accounting of the past year, both individually and collectively. How could we have acted better, both with our fellowman, and in our relationship with our Creator?  Despite that fact that ‘officially’ this self-searching does not begin for over a month, actually it begins now. For our sages have taught us the reasons for the destruction of the two Temples: The first, due to idol worship, murder and adultery. And the second, caused by unadulterated, totally unnecessary, hate.  In order to rectify these errors of the past, we must delve deep into ourselves, examining our own actions, trying to identify similarities to that behavior which brought about such destruction, spiritual and physical, and, if and when found, corrected.

As mentioned, this must be undertaken both individually and collectively.

How so, collectively?

To this, there are, I am sure, many answers from many diverse vantage points. I’d like to discuss one, which I believe is of the utmost importance.

Very frequently, when speaking with groups and with journalists here in Hebron, I find myself addressing the same issue:  “What is the solution?” ‘The solution,’ of course, dealing with the continued war between Arab and Jew, be it in Hebron or throughout Israel.  I’d like to present my answer, as repeated numerous, numerous times. 

My response comprises several parts:

Of course, our enemies, our neighbors, must accept our legitimacy, our legitimacy as a people, and our legitimacy to live in our land, freely, as Jews. As of yet, this legitimacy is still denied us; they refuse to accept that Jews have any right to live in Israel; not only in Judea and Samaria, but in all of Israel, be it Tel Aviv, Haifa, or Beer Sheva.

This is nothing new. The Arab-Islamic rejection of Israel has existed from time immemorial. However, in order to reach any kind of ‘peace,’  this denial of Judaism and Israel must be changed, with the denial itself being rejected.

However, this is the least important element of the answer. Of course, one can rightly ask, how can this first objective be achieved?

Now we begin to touch on the essential issues, the first of which is that we, as a people, must accept our own legitimacy, our right to live as a people in our land. As surprising as it may sound, this self-legitimacy is not a given. In many circles this self-acceptance is rejected. I once debated a professor who declared that ‘if the cost of establishing the State of Israel was expulsion of any Arab people from their homes, then the State should not have been declared.’

This is, of course, very extreme. But it’s not too far from those people who question the Jewish right to Jerusalem, not to mention Hebron. There are many who really don’t know – perhaps it really ‘isn’t ours.’ Or perhaps ‘their right is no less than ours.’

This is reflected, here in Hebron, on an almost daily basis, when groups coming to visit, both Israeli and others, divide their days in half. Part of the day they spend with ‘Breaking the Silence,’ whose directors are infamous for having been responsible for involving Israel in Goldstone, having accused Israeli soldiers of war crimes during the last war in Gaza.  Even Netanyahu brutally attacked them for their slander of Israeli soldiers. These people are not foreigners – they are Jews, Israelis, who have been accused by many of being traitors to their land and people, aiding and abetting the enemy.  Only last week they ‘hosted’ in Hebron several Arab MKs, including Muhammad Baraka, one the most virulent Jew-Israel hating Arabs in the Knesset.   Funded by the EU, Britain and other, this group has become a de facto ‘equal’ to the Jewish Community of Hebron. All groups, including Israeli pre-military academies  wanting to hear ‘both sides of the story’ spend hours with them, as well as meeting with us. I’ve had to fight with numerous Jewish organizations who insist on ‘touring’ with Yehuda Shaul and Michael Menken, the two leaders of this group, this despite the lies and hatred spewed forth from their mouths. For example, how can one explain the photograph shown below, of Menken, smiling, shaking hands with Baraka, head of the Hadash, an Arab, anti Israel political party.  Baraka was indicted four times, including for attacking police, but has not stood trial due to his Knesset immunity.

How is it that Jewish and Israeli organizations are willing to allow their youth to hear virtual enemies of Israel? What would happen to any American youth organization which insisted that, in the name of fairness and equality, their participants be allowed a few hours with people representing bin-Laden, in order to allow them to ‘hear both sides!?”

It is this very doubt, this craving for what seems to be, albeit only superficially, fairness, that is eating away at the very core of our being. Would parents allow their children to try ‘just a little poison’ in order to experience it?

This national doubt, which is expressed in such experiences, is a result of our inability to realize who we are, and where we are, summed up, perhaps, in realizing the source of our roots.

As a result, our enemies refuse to take us seriously, because we refuse to take ourselves seriously.  For example, Anwar Sadat, speaking in 1972 said,” war is now inevitable. Whatever the price, whatever the sacrifice, we will not back down. We will not give up one centimeter of Arab land” http://soracel.net/israel.htm. Included in one centimeter of holy land was, of course, the sand of the Sinai desert. But, for Sadat, this was holy and not to be abandoned.

Closer to the present, I recall having read statements by Arab leaders to the tune that ‘if Israel is willing to give up any of its land, than they really don’t believe it belongs to them. For if they did believe it belonged to them, they wouldn’t think of abandoning any of it.’

In other words, the Arabs don’t think we’re serious. For good reason. We’re not serious. But not only because we are willing to divide our land and abandon major segments of it to our sworn enemies. There is an even better reason. If Jews really believe that this land, Eretz Yisrael belongs to them, then why don’t they live there? Why do they remain in other countries and not move to their land?

This too is a good question which expresses the lack of Jewish seriousness concerning Israel. It stands to reason that if we really did believe that this is our land, we would all be here. Hence, a simple conclusion – we don’t believe it’s our land; but some other ‘people’ does believe it’s theirs. And guess who wins….

In other words, if we don’t take ourselves seriously, why should anyone else take us seriously? We don’t know if it’s ours, and they do.

The solution – start to grow up and take life seriously. Today there are five and a half million Jews in Israel. The Arabs laugh. When there are 10 million, 12 million, they won’t laugh as much; neither will the rest of the world. It was easy to expel 9,000 Jews from Gush Katif. Had there been a population of 20,000, it would have been a different story. Ditto Judea and Samaria. Today’s numbers are not enough. The numbers today stand at over 300,000 with the highest percent of annual population growth in Israel. No surprise that Jews are expelled from buildings in Hebron, or building freezes stunt our growth. Because when 300,000 blossoms to 500,000 and growing, well, what are they going to do with us? The government still hasn’t figured out what to do with the thousands they uprooted from Gush Katif. What will they do with a half a million or more in Yehuda and Shomron?!

That’s the solution, and it’s up to us. When we do our thing, take on the responsibility, assuring  that our neighbors understand that we really are serious, things will change. They won’t laugh any more. And they’ll understand that we’re not going anywhere fast. We’re here to stay.

Many years ago a journalist interviewed an Arab family adjacent to a Hebron Jewish neighborhood. The Arab said that he knew the Jews were here to stay. How did he know? He said that he saw the children, he saw their eyes, and he knew, we will never leave.

This is our secret weapon, our secret solution – this is our future  - this is our answer to the three weeks commemorating  the great destruction. This is the Tikkun, the rectification, repentance, tshuva,  the return. This is Am Yisrael.

Yehuda Shaul, head of Breaking the Silence, which is funded by, among others, the EU, in order to reveal 'war crimes' committed by the IDF and Israeli civilians in Hebron, in an attempt to have the community deleted from the map, today visited Hebron with 4 Knesset Members - 3 Arabs, including Muhammad Baraka, and on Jew, Dov Khenin, a Jewish member of the Arab Hadash party. Walking from Ma'arat HaMachpela to Tel Rumeida, they were escorted by members of Hebron's Jewish community, who welcomed them as would be fitting for such visitors. The police were also on-hand in order to ensure that the Hebron's Jewish community behaved in greeting their guests as in the footsteps of Avraham Avinu. The film below is presented for your enjoyment. The photos can be seen at a larger size at the Hebron web site: http://goo.gl/xXlY

It was way back in January when my parents asked if I would be interested in extending my eighth-grade Schechter Israel trip for an extra week, the additional time to include several days in Chevron volunteering at the preschool gan. Of course they knew I would say yes— I had helped out

I realized that this wasn’t like a Sunday barbeque on my grandparents’ condominium balcony in Highland Park.

at the gan last year while my parents toured Chevron for a day. But this time I wouldn’t be returning to our hotel in Jerusalem. This time I would be staying alone in Chevron.

As the rest of the Schechter class prepared for a Sunday morning departure to the airport, my friend, Sarah, a new Olah from Chicago, met me at the Lev Yerushalayim Hotel. I said goodbye to my eighth-grade classmates and Sarah and I proceeded to the central bus station where we boarded the bus to Chevron. It took about an hour until the bus crossed from Kiryat Arba into the Jewish section of Chevron. Sarah had never been to Chevron before so my dad provided me with the instructions. I was to get off at the stop by the Maarat HaMachpela, walk into the Gutnick Center snack shop and call the preschool director to take me to the gan. Naturally, I didn’t follow Dad’s instructions and instead, got off at Beit Hadassah, confident that I would recall the way to the gan by memory after last year’s visit. I could only imagine what my parents were thinking when I woke them up at 2 a.m. Chicago time and told them that Sarah and I were lost.

After a few minutes of phone time, I tried to re-collect my bearings. I looked ahead into what seemed like an Arab neighborhood and then quickly decided to head back toward the bus stop. All the time, I kept peering toward the dusty side streets until I finally got to the point where the surroundings appeared familiar. That’s when I worked up the courage to ask the first person I saw, “Eich magi’im l’gan yeladim?” I must have understood his response because a couple of minutes later, Sarah and I heard the shouts of young children. I hustled to the next corner and there was thegan.

Chevron security director Yoni Bleichard met me downstairs and took my luggage to his office where he e-mailed my parents to let them know I had arrived. He brought me to the gan and I immediately began working with the preschool kids, reading stories, making Shavuot decorations, serving lunch and constantly improving my Hebrew. The children are so cute and friendly. The girls, especially, liked to play with my hair and would constantly surround me and pose for pictures. It was just the way I remembered it from last year. I handed out thirty packages of stickers which I had brought from Chicago. It felt good to bring gifts from the U.S. After school, Rebbetzin Batsheva Cohen from Chabad brought me to her house. She told me to take the baby stroller along with her four-year-old son and his two friends and walk to the Beit Hadassah to pick up the Cohen’s baby. We passed many Chevron residents along the streets, both Jewish and Arab, but I was already becoming comfortable traveling alone and remembered the way around without a problem. I returned to the rebbetzin’s house with baby Menucha Rachel and then helped prepare dinner.

After we finished eating, the Cohens showed me the apartment where I would be staying. My dad had told me that I would living at the bnei sherut girls’ dormitory with Israeli girls who were doing volunteer service in Chevron. But it turned out that there were no other girls there that week and I had the entire apartment to myself. I admit to being a little scared at first, but the building was located right next to the Cohens and the gan. Still, I could tell my parents were shocked when I called them at 4 p.m. Chicago time to tell them I was alone for the night.

The next morning, I arrived at the gan at 8:30. I saw some of the kids in the five and six-yearold class who remembered me from last year. But my favorite age is the three and four-year-old group and I was glad to have this assignment. The girls are so cute and friendly. The boys, of course, are completely wild, fighting with each other and pretending they’re in the army, but that’s the reality of life in Chevron which is surrounded by IDF soldiers ensuring that the Jewish community is safe.

After the gan closed for the day, I rode in the preschool van and went to Yoni’s house. Yoni and Rabbi Hochbaum were actually at my house in Highland Park last year and Yoni had told me that he had a daughter who was my age. Yoni’s daughter showed me around for a while and we made Shavuot treats for the soldiers stationed in Chevron. Every week, the community honors the soldiers with treats and pizza. I’ve seen ladies handing out tiny Tehillim books to the soldiers on my other visits. It’s obvious that the Chevron residents support and appreciate all of the soldiers.

After leaving the Bleichards, I returned to the Cohen’s house where I spent the next few hours on their rooftop patio cooking eggplants for dinner. As I prepared the food, I could hear Arab prayer calls bellowing loudly in the background. It made me realize that this wasn’t like a Sunday barbeque on my grandparents’ condominium balcony in Highland Park.

After dinner, I returned to my apartment and just relaxed on the bed as I listened to music and scanned for radio stations on my I-pod. I made sure to call my parents and let them know how the day went before finally falling asleep at midnight.

The next morning was Erev Shavuot. The gan was closed so Rebbetzin Cohen had me take her children to the Avraham Avinu playground. I began thinking to myself and felt proud and responsible, knowing that for the past few days the Cohens had entrusted their young children with me, an eight-grader, whom they had never before met. It’s such a different feeling being 5000 miles away from the overprotective atmosphere of the Chicago suburbs. As I watched the Chevron children playing and running through the streets and courtyards, I saw some of the boys and girls displaying the stickers that I handed out on Sunday. The kids were so cute and vivacious!

After bringing back the Cohen’s children, I got cleaned up and got ready to leave. There were just four days left in my one-week extension and I still had friends and family to visit in other cities. I put my stuff in Rebbetzin Cohen’s car and she drove me through Chevron’s winding streets to the Gutnick Center. Peering out of the window, I couldn’t believe that I had found the way to the gan on my own last Sunday. I know classmates who aren’t even allowed to cross busy streets near their homes. But in Israel, kids seem to grow up faster. It’s something I’ve noticed on all my previous trips.

We arrived at the Gutnick Center and waited for my family friend, Yahel, to drive me to Kibbutz Erez near Sderot for Shavuot. As we stood near the tree-lined grounds by the gift shop, I could see the Maarat HaMachpela just a few hundred feet in the background. I looked toward the old stone steps next to the ancient building. On our first visit to Chevron, my dad explained that those were the seven steps, beyond which Jews were never allowed to pray. Yet, I had been fortunate enough to have entered the Maarat HaMachpela two different times. I’ve even met a man that actually went into the cave in 1967.

As Yahel’s blue car pulled up, I thought about how Avraham purchased the caves and the very field upon which I was standing. I know that is why Jews still live here. I was glad that my parents, the Chevron community and the people from the Chevron Fund helped arrange my stay and I’m looking forward to my next visit to Israel and another chance to come to Chevron and work in the preschool gan.