Ami’s message is not simple, but it's straightforward: “We are unique; we must fight with nobility and with mutual concern for each other; the government has nothing to offer and is waging a smear campaign against us; and G-d will help.”
“During the course of a generation,” Shaked recently wrote in an open letter to his fellow residents of Gush Katif, “we have been living in this glorious settlement enterprise in our beloved corner of the land. It was established on virgin land on which no one was able to succeed [agriculturally] since the creation of the world. Amazingly, the land responded only to us – as if we were chosen, as if it sensed our love for it.”
“Just like our forefather Abraham, we again face a great mission and test. We have walked up the mountain, like he did, without questions, and [like Isaac did], at the altar, we ask, ‘Where is the lamb that will be offered up?’ We’re not naive; we are men of faith. Just like Abraham, we must struggle for our [way of life], and in this way to express our love. We are torn between our love for what we have created, and our faith in the Master of the Universe.
“We are obligated to struggle, we must fire up the consciousness of the nation in order that it wake up – and thus possibly even prevent the terrible decree. We owe this to ourselves and to the future generations. But just as in the Binding of Isaac, our mission is also to become purified and to be ready for sacrifice, while G-d’s job is to remember us at the right moment – [just as His angel told Abraham,] ‘Do not lay a hand on the boy [Isaac].’”
I met Ami Shaked in his Gaza Coast Regional Council office this morning, surprised – but not unduly so – that the man with the twinkling eyes, welcoming and sure smile, and baseball hat perched atop the ponytail he had tied in back was also the man who had penned that message of strength.
“Where does all that faith and strength come from?” I asked, momentarily embarrassing him.
“It comes from the same place that my three-year-old son gets it when he says, ‘Aba [Daddy], everything will be okay.’ It comes from looking at the people around me and seeing how special they are – and it comes from the knowledge that people are looking at us. We are here in this historic time and place not by chance. I have this job, at this time, for a reason – and we do what we have to do.”
“Look, it’s never been easy here,” he continues. “First, there were problems of making a living, then the 5,000 rockets of the past few years, and now, the terrible smear campaign that certain elements in our society are waging against us – but because now it’s a different type of battle, that’s why I’ve switched weapons.” His smile lights up again: “Now I use the pen.”
His message is that now is not the time to give up, but rather the time to continue to hold up the front – “not only for our homes and families, but for the character of the communities that we have built.”
A quote from the letter: “As a community with no blemish, and from which the years of struggle have extracted only the best, we are obligated to a fight that matches our way of life, our character, our good-heartedness, and our commitment to our joint future. Whatever fate has in store for us, our ‘clothes must always be white’ and without stain...”
A NEW TYPE OF FIGHT
“We must wage a very firm struggle that will shock the Nation of Israel in its dignity and nobility, in its difference from the way it has been customary to wage struggles in our country, and in its concern for the entire country... This must be a struggle in which all those who observe us will see ‘sons of kings in their own kingdom.’ All those who step over our doorstep will sense the awe of holiness and the greatness of the hour. It will be a struggle in which every child and woman will become an exemplary model for all of Israel.
“The struggle intensifies our obligations regarding the fate of the bereaved families, to show kindness, compassion and respect to our brothers and sisters who have fallen victim to the war and the roads.... We must not be portrayed as the lowest of the low, whose only interest is their personal future. We were never like that, and we will not be like that. We must fight the fight, and the result will be up to Heaven.... The eyes of all Israel are upon us, to see how we will react: Will we continue with our campaign of love, or was it merely a media trick? Our strong stand against all odds has already become a legend of itself, and our determination to continue your daily routine is driving the evil-hearted leaders mad. They would love to see violence, in order to justify the expulsion and cleanse their conscience.”
AND THOSE WHO LIVE OUTSIDE GUSH KATIF?
Shaked also has expectations from those who do not live in Gush Katif: “Our eyes, too, are turned towards our brothers, from whom we ask that they thwart the mobility of the expulsion forces and prevent them from arriving in Gush Katif in every legitimate manner. This division of labor will best manifest the strength of the nation and the determination of the residents of Katif.”
In conversation, Ami is more down-to-earth: “Those who live outside the Gush can do a lot. Just like the Revavah group that promised to bring 10,000 Jews to the Temple Mount last month; at the end, only 40 came – but 7,000 policemen were on hand to stop them. Here too, if the police are tied down around the country because of mass road-blockings, that will leave two divisions of career soldiers that the government has designated for the expulsion. That’s simply not enough, because we know that they need four expellers for every person they wish to expel; that’s how it has worked in the past. So, then, they’ll have to start calling in the young soldiers – and we know how many of them are planning to refuse... In short, what we are hoping for is not to defeat the army, but to get it to compose one of its phrases that it likes to come up with – you know, like ‘low-flame warfare’ [to describe the years of the Oslo War] and the like – and announce that the situation is one of ‘lack of operational optionality’ or something like that.”
Ami is at his smiling best when talking about the people he lives and works with: “Our motto in this department [of security] is, ‘Saving Lives in Every Place, in Any Manner, at Any Price, Without Condition.’ It’s not just a motto.” (A resident later told me that Ami has “faced death many, many times – people have died of terror attacks in his arms.”) “We have here a true society of ‘one for all, all for one’ – and it’s for real. I love living here – farmers, Torah scholars, religious, not religious, all different types, but in total harmony. We are like the Neturei Karta [Guardians of the City] – we protect the last bastion of real societal giving.”
I bring him down to earth: “There are those who say that without violence, you simply won’t be able to stop the withdrawal and expulsion. How do you respond?”
Ami: “First of all, that’s not ‘us’. We’re not violent; what can you do? You have to match the battle to the character of the people who are fighting. Second of all, we have to know who’s on the other side. A violent resistance will only serve Sharon’s purposes - he’ll be able to quell it faster, and justify it as well. A non-violent campaign has better chances of succeeding. Our part in this struggle is to continue our lives.”
Ami said that he has spoken with the residents of Bdolach, a community with particular financial troubles and fewer people who have taken the “idealistic” approach. “I explain to them that faith and strategy go together,” he said. “Saying no [to a government proposal such as Nitzanim] is also a form of negotiation strategy. There is no need to rush with a ‘yes’ answer to something that is both not realistic and harmful. I explain to them that the way in which we wage our struggle is also worth something. Talk of faith that comes from me” – he indicates his ponytail – “is something they can relate to.”
Ami has to rush off to the Gush Katif children’s pre-Independence Day celebration. I follow along later, and find myself surrounded by happy children and proud, smiling parents – who go to sleep each night with no idea where or how they will feed those children three months from now, nor why their government is doing this to them. For Ami Shaked, and for many others, this way of life is simply a “test” that brings out the best of human nature.
“During the course of a generation,” Shaked recently wrote in an open letter to his fellow residents of Gush Katif, “we have been living in this glorious settlement enterprise in our beloved corner of the land. It was established on virgin land on which no one was able to succeed [agriculturally] since the creation of the world. Amazingly, the land responded only to us – as if we were chosen, as if it sensed our love for it.”
“Just like our forefather Abraham, we again face a great mission and test. We have walked up the mountain, like he did, without questions, and [like Isaac did], at the altar, we ask, ‘Where is the lamb that will be offered up?’ We’re not naive; we are men of faith. Just like Abraham, we must struggle for our [way of life], and in this way to express our love. We are torn between our love for what we have created, and our faith in the Master of the Universe.
“We are obligated to struggle, we must fire up the consciousness of the nation in order that it wake up – and thus possibly even prevent the terrible decree. We owe this to ourselves and to the future generations. But just as in the Binding of Isaac, our mission is also to become purified and to be ready for sacrifice, while G-d’s job is to remember us at the right moment – [just as His angel told Abraham,] ‘Do not lay a hand on the boy [Isaac].’”
I met Ami Shaked in his Gaza Coast Regional Council office this morning, surprised – but not unduly so – that the man with the twinkling eyes, welcoming and sure smile, and baseball hat perched atop the ponytail he had tied in back was also the man who had penned that message of strength.
“Where does all that faith and strength come from?” I asked, momentarily embarrassing him.
“It comes from the same place that my three-year-old son gets it when he says, ‘Aba [Daddy], everything will be okay.’ It comes from looking at the people around me and seeing how special they are – and it comes from the knowledge that people are looking at us. We are here in this historic time and place not by chance. I have this job, at this time, for a reason – and we do what we have to do.”
“Look, it’s never been easy here,” he continues. “First, there were problems of making a living, then the 5,000 rockets of the past few years, and now, the terrible smear campaign that certain elements in our society are waging against us – but because now it’s a different type of battle, that’s why I’ve switched weapons.” His smile lights up again: “Now I use the pen.”
His message is that now is not the time to give up, but rather the time to continue to hold up the front – “not only for our homes and families, but for the character of the communities that we have built.”
A quote from the letter: “As a community with no blemish, and from which the years of struggle have extracted only the best, we are obligated to a fight that matches our way of life, our character, our good-heartedness, and our commitment to our joint future. Whatever fate has in store for us, our ‘clothes must always be white’ and without stain...”
A NEW TYPE OF FIGHT
“We must wage a very firm struggle that will shock the Nation of Israel in its dignity and nobility, in its difference from the way it has been customary to wage struggles in our country, and in its concern for the entire country... This must be a struggle in which all those who observe us will see ‘sons of kings in their own kingdom.’ All those who step over our doorstep will sense the awe of holiness and the greatness of the hour. It will be a struggle in which every child and woman will become an exemplary model for all of Israel.
“The struggle intensifies our obligations regarding the fate of the bereaved families, to show kindness, compassion and respect to our brothers and sisters who have fallen victim to the war and the roads.... We must not be portrayed as the lowest of the low, whose only interest is their personal future. We were never like that, and we will not be like that. We must fight the fight, and the result will be up to Heaven.... The eyes of all Israel are upon us, to see how we will react: Will we continue with our campaign of love, or was it merely a media trick? Our strong stand against all odds has already become a legend of itself, and our determination to continue your daily routine is driving the evil-hearted leaders mad. They would love to see violence, in order to justify the expulsion and cleanse their conscience.”
AND THOSE WHO LIVE OUTSIDE GUSH KATIF?
Shaked also has expectations from those who do not live in Gush Katif: “Our eyes, too, are turned towards our brothers, from whom we ask that they thwart the mobility of the expulsion forces and prevent them from arriving in Gush Katif in every legitimate manner. This division of labor will best manifest the strength of the nation and the determination of the residents of Katif.”
In conversation, Ami is more down-to-earth: “Those who live outside the Gush can do a lot. Just like the Revavah group that promised to bring 10,000 Jews to the Temple Mount last month; at the end, only 40 came – but 7,000 policemen were on hand to stop them. Here too, if the police are tied down around the country because of mass road-blockings, that will leave two divisions of career soldiers that the government has designated for the expulsion. That’s simply not enough, because we know that they need four expellers for every person they wish to expel; that’s how it has worked in the past. So, then, they’ll have to start calling in the young soldiers – and we know how many of them are planning to refuse... In short, what we are hoping for is not to defeat the army, but to get it to compose one of its phrases that it likes to come up with – you know, like ‘low-flame warfare’ [to describe the years of the Oslo War] and the like – and announce that the situation is one of ‘lack of operational optionality’ or something like that.”
Ami is at his smiling best when talking about the people he lives and works with: “Our motto in this department [of security] is, ‘Saving Lives in Every Place, in Any Manner, at Any Price, Without Condition.’ It’s not just a motto.” (A resident later told me that Ami has “faced death many, many times – people have died of terror attacks in his arms.”) “We have here a true society of ‘one for all, all for one’ – and it’s for real. I love living here – farmers, Torah scholars, religious, not religious, all different types, but in total harmony. We are like the Neturei Karta [Guardians of the City] – we protect the last bastion of real societal giving.”
I bring him down to earth: “There are those who say that without violence, you simply won’t be able to stop the withdrawal and expulsion. How do you respond?”
Ami: “First of all, that’s not ‘us’. We’re not violent; what can you do? You have to match the battle to the character of the people who are fighting. Second of all, we have to know who’s on the other side. A violent resistance will only serve Sharon’s purposes - he’ll be able to quell it faster, and justify it as well. A non-violent campaign has better chances of succeeding. Our part in this struggle is to continue our lives.”
Ami said that he has spoken with the residents of Bdolach, a community with particular financial troubles and fewer people who have taken the “idealistic” approach. “I explain to them that faith and strategy go together,” he said. “Saying no [to a government proposal such as Nitzanim] is also a form of negotiation strategy. There is no need to rush with a ‘yes’ answer to something that is both not realistic and harmful. I explain to them that the way in which we wage our struggle is also worth something. Talk of faith that comes from me” – he indicates his ponytail – “is something they can relate to.”
Ami has to rush off to the Gush Katif children’s pre-Independence Day celebration. I follow along later, and find myself surrounded by happy children and proud, smiling parents – who go to sleep each night with no idea where or how they will feed those children three months from now, nor why their government is doing this to them. For Ami Shaked, and for many others, this way of life is simply a “test” that brings out the best of human nature.