Sundown in the Middle East

All kids have heroes.

I don't know who Prime Minister Netanyahu looked up to as a boy.

Me? I wanted to be Sam Spade.

Spade's work began at sundown. He worked in mean, dark streets and dealt with cast of mean, shadowy characters. He was a hard because he had to be hard. He knew the angles. He had the backchat. He was apt to punch first and ask questions later. He was a primal, rough hewn archetype symbolized by a man in a raincoat and hat. Not just any hat – an iconic Fedora.

But Spade's tough-guy mystique wasn't what I admired about him. As uncomfortable and ambiguous a figure as Spade was, he was a hero. When faced with the fateful decision – get the beautiful Brigid O'Shaunessy and a packet of cash or get justice for the murdered partner he well and truly despised – Spade sent his paramour to the gas chamber for his partner's murder.

Why? For Spade it was simple as, "When a man kills your partner you do something about it."

There were no ands, ifs, or buts about it for Spade. He had a code he lived by. Not living by that code was an impossibility for him. Spade forewent personal gain for justice – justice for its own sake. He knew justice wouldn't be done unless he reached for his Fedora and made justice himself.

It won't surprise our Fedora-wearing public that we Jews also pursue justice for its own sake. The Mosaic code is, admittedly, more sophisticated and robust than Spade's singular dictum. But our sages had the same essential dilemma as Spade – not living by our code is an impossibility for us if we are to survive and thrive.

"The reward of a mitzvah is the mitzvah," they tell us in Pirkei Avot.

A pious man forgoes gain and fulfills God's will for its own sake because the mitzvah has value in of itself. He can't do otherwise
because its who he is. What may surprise some is that at the core of the Mosaic code is Spade's justice.

"Justice, justice shall you pursue," we are commanded (Duet. 16:18).

So important is this pursuit of justice that God predicates our presence in the land – our Zionist enterprise then and now – upon it. At the dawn of the second Jewish commonwealth the prophet Zechariah (8:8-14) tells us,

"...Thus said the Lord of Hosts: Execute true justice; deal loyally and compassionately with one another. Do not defraud the widow, the orphan, the proselyte, and the poor – and do not plot evil against one another. But they refused to heed. They presented a balky back and turned a deaf ear... and a terrible wrath issued from the Lord of Hosts. Even as he called they would not listen. "So," said the lord of hosts. "Let them call and I will not listen." I dispersed them among all those nations they had not known, and the land was left desolate..."

The emotional basis of Zionism is justice for the Jewish people. Justice for God's word – and making God's own justice in His land. That justice can only be made, both for us and those who live here alongside us, if we are sovereign and secure in all of the land God gave us as a possession – In Israel.

"I will give as an everlasting possession to you and your descendants after you; and I will be their God," its written (Genesis 17:8).

To claim that possession, our moral right, we have to believe our cause – our presence here – is just. We have to take a page from Sam Spade and make justice for ourselves. No one else will do it for us.

Which is why I wonder who Prime Minister Netanyahu looked up to as a boy. I suspect it was his oft invoked older brother, famed Entebbe hero, Yoni. A man described as having a rich inner life and a passion for his people – a man of absolute conviction who died fighting for justice for his people. For his people's rights.

Our Prime Minister is, without a doubt, a articulate, educated, intelligent, polished man. I am positive he is a good man who wants to do as much good as he can for his people. But his rhetoric chills me. Its hollow. I hear him speak of agreements, and international law, and security, and treaties. I hear him speak of American support, broadconsensus, and making hard compromises.

But I don't hear the one thing that says “leader.” I don't hear Prime Minister Netanyahu rejoicing in the Jewish dream. I don't hear him speak about why we have bothered to return to this arid, hard, dusty land – or demand justice for his people.

Obama's infamous speech Thursday denied our moral rights – our unique national character – and left us no room for ambiguity. Prime Minister Netanyahu must be on message when he speaks with Obama Friday and addresses the US Congress on May 24th. Not the message of accords, or broad consensus, or conditions, or international law – or broken promises by “historic friends.”

The message Netanyahu must carry with him is the message of who we are, what we stand for, and what we aspire to. He has to express pride in our unique national character and demand justice for his people – he has to stand on our rights.

Amidst the “Spring revolutions” our region – never the nicest neighborhood – has become a mean, dark place. We are dealing with a cast of mean, dangerous people. Not just Munich Massacre financier Abu Mazzen, or  genocidal Hamas co-founders Khaled Mashaal and Mahmoud al-Zahar, or bomb-happy Ahmadinijad – but now the American President, too.

Avraham Stern – no wild-eyed, froth-at-the-mouth, revival tent Jew – wrote the building of the Third Temple as a symbol of the new era of total redemption. He knew our unique national character was intimately bound with the Jerusalem Obama wants to divide –  that "The Torah shall go forth from Zion, the world of God from Jerusalem.”

We need Prime Minister who is hard because he has to be. We need a Prime Minister who knows all the angles. We need a Prime Minister who knows the backchat. We need a Prime Minister who will punch first and ask questions later when our rights are challenged. A prime minister who knows the only way his people will see justice if he goes and makes it himself.

Its time to reach for your Fedora, Mr. Netanyahu – Its sundown in the Middle East.