Israel at war -- the days after... > Likes and Comments

Thinking to put this in as a time-limited topic to give us a spot to talk and ventilate and support and comfort and just to converse with each other.

Israel is usually addressed in binary terms, such as "for or against Israel."

Probably most of us in this group, if we are diaspora Jews, are in the "for" camp but not without some free-floating guilt, stemming from being a minority pickled in a culture with a major tradition of scapegoating Jews. Even declaring ourselves as "proud Jews" can signify bending over backwards and a posture of anger. --All stemming from the binary approach from which it's so hard to extricate oneself.

Here's a different angle: the actors -- the Israelis, the Palestinians, the various choruses cheering on one or the other -- are all secondary. The actual beneficiaries of such conflicts are those who aim to divide and weaken the west (the liberal democracies). Those who benefit from all the frozen conflicts.

What happens if, while continuing to support Israel and while not denying our emotions -- grief, fear, feeling of violation -- we take a look from that unusual angle?

Am Yisrael Chai
And thinking

We Jews have a secret weapon in our struggle with the Arabs; we have no place to go.
- Golda Meir

Rmplanet wrote: "We Jews have a secret weapon in our struggle with the Arabs; we have no place to go.
- Golda Meir"

Thank you!! I work at a public school where I’m the only Jew in the building and most people here know nothing about Judaism. Needless to say I’m pretty tense right now.

Jan, can you please elaborate on the term "frozen conflicts"? I appreciate this space and am also thinking...Feeling overwhelmed about getting more informed - listening and learning is my way of managing. Where are conversations in books that acutely dissect actors' minds? Its too big - anger, fear, mental illness, history. And so much more.

I am glad there is a safe place for this discussion. Personally, I'm so overwhelmed at the moment from what I'm witnessing on TV, reminding me of the many pogroms we Jews have faced for eternity, that I'm finding it hard to find words. That's a pretty serious confession for a writer.

Shanah wrote: "We arrived home yesterday evening from celebrating Sukkot in Israel. We were able to get on one of the last two U.S. flights out because they were evacuating United staff. It was stuffed. They turn..."

Shanah,

I'm glad you are home safe. You have lived through a harrowing experience. I am seriously considering returning to Israel to volunteer with the IDF (which I have done in the past -- peacetimes) or with Hadassah hospital. United Airlines personnel told me that they are still flying in and out of Tel Aviv. Is that not the case?

I appreciate any information you can share. My email is sarah49@live.com.

Thank you.

Sarah

Sarah wrote: "Shanah wrote: "We arrived home yesterday evening from celebrating Sukkot in Israel. We were able to get on one of the last two U.S. flights out because they were evacuating United staff. It was stu..."

Hello, Sarah. There are no United flights. Two of my friends have been at Ben Gurion since Sunday evening, and they just now were able to board a TusAir flight to Cyprus. Another friend is on his way to Ethiopia, then the States. The rumor is that some flights might resume Friday.

Jan, thank you so much for spearheading this discussion.
It is as important as it is cathartic. I so appreciate it as I sit here with a broken heart and intermittent anger.
I am far from being in the know and certainly no authority, but want to share what I know.
I watched a briefing today by The Washington Institute on Near East Policy ( a non partisan non for profit org ) that Im involved with. Both Dennis Ross and General __ were speaking and I have never seen these stoic men become so chocked up while talking today. They gave away no secrets- at this point whatever those are, I'm sure they weren't on that committee.:) They gave their opinions on whats to come along with videos that were not shared with the media. They spoke about the what-ifs, and the fact that when Israel retaliates, the videos that will be posted are going to be more horrendous and brutal from what we have seen in the last two days. I would venture a guess to say they must be seen by heads of state as evidence to warrant any surprises . They stressed its going to get worse before it gets better.
Just as civilians were ready to collect and deliver food and aid, fighting moved to the North. No power, no food, and many elderly shut ins.
The grieving is heartbreaking as the death toll rises including more hostages taken, beaten and raped. Many Americans and Europeans as well.
Being candid, at this point Im ready for a meltdown.
A piece of advice that was made clear was not to post on the standard social media sites for obvious reasons. Can't win with opinions that turn ugly.
My daughter has two friends who were at the music festival. No-one has heard from them yet.
Ben Gurion is open for now to receive the soldiers on reserve from all over, but mot international flights have been cancelled.
I had plans to go next week for stuff I do there- everything cancelled.
Shauna, glad you got home safe; it must have been a white knuckle trip.
Brina- I was always under the impression you were teaching and subbing at a Jewish Day School. Must be awkward. What are the opinions there?
A shout-out to our Israeli authors there to stay safe.
What to say?????

Stacey and others - I never got offer full time at a Jewish day school so I transitioned to subbing at public school, made a good impression, and now work full time. This is a small, working class community. A few people have had contact with Jews in the past but not many and if they have, definitely no Orthodox Jews. The kids wanted to know why I left early on erev Rosh Hashanah and was absent on Yom Kippur so I explained it to them but it was over most of their heads. I don’t participate in staff food days but I do bring my own version and attempt to explain why I can’t eat the school’s food. Opinions don’t exist because I don’t ask. And if any of my team- I’m a long term sub right now- are pro Palestine, I don’t want to know. During my planning period today, I said tehillim in my room with the door closed. But I have no where to vent during the day so it’s tough.

Stacey B wrote: "Jan, thank you so much for spearheading this discussion.
It is as important as it is cathartic. I so appreciate it as I sit here with a broken heart and intermittent anger.
I am far from being in ..."

Thank you, Jan. Words hardly suffice. Stacey, you can vent here. We are a community. We need each other now more than ever. Grief shared is grief lightened.

Brina wrote: "Stacey and others - I never got offer full time at a Jewish day school so I transitioned to subbing at public school, made a good impression, and now work full time. This is a small, working class ..."

Brina,
I can imagine how tough it must be for you. Im feeling your angst.
The kids must be on the younger side if the explanations went over their heads. Is it ok to ask you if you have noticed any antisemitism there? Because hate is learned at the dinner table and repeated without any real understanding of what it means and why.

I appreciate your thanks, and you're all very welcome!

First, a word to the wise: I do want to say the Jewish Book Club isn't closed or private so I assume others who aren't members can see these comments. So definitely don't post material that you wish to be confidential! It may be best to send email addresses via private messages or tell others they can contact you to get your email address (and have your settings such that others can message you), since you may get emails you don't want or more than you want.

Sarah wrote: "Stacey B wrote: "Jan, thank you so much for spearheading this discussion.
It is as important as it is cathartic. I so appreciate it as I sit here with a broken heart and intermittent anger.
I am f..."

Thank you Sarah!!! So sweet of you, and I do understand.
And ..Yes, we are all in this together.
We could use a few heroes right now.

Jan wrote: "I appreciate your thanks, and you're all very welcome!

First, a word to the wise: I do want to say the Jewish Book Club isn't closed or private so I assume others who aren't members can see these ..."

Thank you, Jan. Advice heeded. Mightily grateful.

They’re in 6th grade but having never met a Jew before it’s more not being aware. These kids are still shocked that I don’t celebrate Xmas. No antisemitism at the dinner table because many of the parents are from the same community and I doubt they’re much wiser than the kids. Once a pto parent told me she knew about kosher from watching someone on TikTok. I let that person know to keep posting her videos. At least the ladies in my community have a group chat but I’m so removed from Judaism all week that if it wasn’t for these texts I wouldn’t know about the anything. Yomim tovim affected me so differently this year. I am thankful for the two women I work with who have had some exposure and if I slip and say a Yiddish word they’re not completely clueless. But yeah the next few days are going to be tough.

Robin wrote: "Jan, can you please elaborate on the term "frozen conflicts"? I appreciate this space and am also thinking...Feeling overwhelmed about getting more informed - listening and learning is my way of ma..."

It's a term I came across in the news. Doubt if I can remember the source. It's about Russia, how they use their warm water port on Crimea to reach parts of Africa as well as the Middle East and keep conflicts going. In Africa they keep strongmen in power, help them repel Islamist rebels, and extract money from those countries' resources to fund more Russian misbehavior. They keep things stirred up in the various hotspots in the Middle East, anything that can weaken the West and divide us against each other.

I started to talk about disinformation campaigns but better leave it at actual conflict situations for now. So--frozen conflicts: just as it sounds. They act to keep hatred going, keep situations from being resolved, by arming and supporting the weakest of the warring parties.

Interference with the internal functioning of a nation, especially by fomenting armed conflict is a time-honored way to weaken that nation.

Not only Iran, but also Russia, must be happy with what happened.

Yes, I've been reading and thinking, but no, no special knowledge. My thought in the comment -- about looking wider -- is because we get locked into debate (or locked into bad feelings even if we don't debate) with anti-Israel folks. We all know what's said. By looking wider, I can see the tortured morality of those who cheer for Ukraine but then they up and cheer for Hamas.

I come to such insights from having to deal with "what people say."

"Jan wrote: "I appreciate your thanks, and you're all very welcome!

First, a word to the wise: I do want to say the Jewish Book Club isn't closed or private so I assume others who aren't members ca..."

"Sarah wrote: Thank you, Jan. Advice heeded. Mightily grateful."

You can edit your earlier posts if you want. Not written in stone! ;)

Jan wrote: ""Jan wrote: "I appreciate your thanks, and you're all very welcome!

First, a word to the wise: I do want to say the Jewish Book Club isn't closed or private so I assume others who aren't members c..."

Jan wrote: ""Jan wrote: "I appreciate your thanks, and you're all very welcome!

First, a word to the wise: I do want to say the Jewish Book Club isn't closed or private so I assume others who aren't members c..."

Thanks, Jan. Edit is done!

Sarah wrote: "... Thanks, Jan. Edit is done! "

👍

Now articles saying how Israel brought this war on itself seem to be proliferating. Ugh!

Then I remembered that's what was being said about Ukraine too (or, rather, that the West caused it). And that was discredited.

These should be called "the-devil-made-me-do-it" explanations!

...I have had to put aside for the time being a book that, while important, is very dark. It is too much for me at the moment. I picked up a new book I had gotten from the library that has to be returned because somebody else wants it. Also nonfiction, but light and airy. That's when the realization hit me to read that one now!

share with us the titles of the dark one (if worth the pain) and the right and airy nonfiction please.

Shelley wrote: "share with us the titles of the dark one (if worth the pain) and the right and airy nonfiction please."

The "dark one" is Chaim Potok's The Gates of November. It's about the traumatic events of the Russian revolution through the lens of one family. I have a copy so can come back to it. The "airy" one is Talking Cure: An Essay on the Civilizing Power of Conversation, a new book by Paula Marantz Cohen on the power of conversation -- not small talk, but conversation. It's a wonder.

Neither is about Israel. Just about what I need to read.
There are sources that have put up suggestions and lists on modern Israel and Zionism.

Hello Friends,
A friend suggested I post my story about what is like for some of us in Israel right now
https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/you-a...
I hope it is of interest to you.
Thanks for reading and stay safe. We are in this together.
Michelle
Ra'anana, Israel

Michelle wrote: "Hello Friends,
A friend suggested I post my story about what is like for some of us in Israel right now
https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/you-a...
I hope it is of interest to you.
Thanks for readi..."

Michelle,
Thank you for your heartfelt story and beautiful pictures!
Love,
Jan

Posted today on the Jewish Book Council Website

Dear Readers,
This week we have been witness to history. At JBC we have been shar­ing the accounts of Israeli authors and authors in Israel. Their testimonials must be giv­en space, now and mov­ing for­ward, as our mem­o­ry-keep­ers and record-keep­ers. (Read more on JBC’s initial statement announcing the series.) These writers’ reflect on what they’ve seen in Israel this past week

I got the word a lit­tle after sev­en last night (Octo­ber 10, 2023). There was going to be a mil­i­tary funer­al where I live, Zichron Yaakov, at eight o’clock in the evening.
The deci­sion made itself; I was going. This despite the fact that I did not know the fall­en sol­dier, Major Roi Chapel, twen­ty-five years old, of the Nahal Brigade. Nor did I know his family.

But I felt com­pelled to pay my last respects to a son of my com­mu­ni­ty who fell in bat­tle to defend Israel.

I decid­ed to walk to the funer­al. I usu­al­ly walk when­ev­er the weath­er is mild, as it was last night. The walk took about twen­ty min­utes and some­where around the mid­point, I start­ed won­der­ing whether I should have tak­en the car. What if there’s a siren? What if rock­ets start falling out of the sky? It would take me pre­cious min­utes to get back home and into the safe room. I might not make it back at all.

By the time I arrived at the ceme­tery, a large crowd had gath­ered by the main gate. Some of them were in uni­form and oth­ers wore t‑shirts bear­ing Major Chapel’s unit’s name and num­ber. Israeli com­bat sol­diers often get such shirts at the end of basic train­ing or an ardu­ous course.

A few of the sol­diers had ban­dages on their arms. One sup­port­ed him­self on crutch­es. I caught snatch­es of their con­ver­sa­tions and learned that these were fresh injuries. They had hap­pened in this cur­rent war.

More than a thou­sand peo­ple walked into the ceme­tery and down the paved path toward the mil­i­tary sec­tion. Young and old, sec­u­lar and reli­gious. We were a cross sec­tion of Jew­ish society.

I stood well back from the mil­i­tary sec­tion. Those who knew Major Chapel, and no doubt felt his loss more keen­ly, con­gre­gat­ed to the front of the gravesite. An hon­orary guard of sol­diers bear­ing the bright green caps of the Nahal Brigade stood by the grave. With them were offi­cers, a mil­i­tary rab­bi, and Major Chapel’s fam­i­ly and close friends.

Before the funer­al start­ed, the mas­ter of cer­e­mo­ny deliv­ered this warn­ing over the sound sys­tem: in case of a siren, lie flat on the ground for ten min­utes and cov­er your head with your arms. I scoped the area imme­di­ate­ly around me, search­ing for the most secure patch of hal­lowed ground on which to lie. There were two tall head­stones three or four feet behind me. In case of a rock­et attack, I decid­ed, I would stretch myself between them. They would offer me a mea­sure of protection.

These are the sort of things you think about in Israel these days.

The cer­e­mo­ny began. Major Chapel’s father said the Kad­dish over his grave. And when it end­ed, he added that he hoped he would be the last father to say the Kad­dish over his son. But no one in the crowd believed his wish could stand for long. So far, 171 sol­diers have died in this war, as well as sev­er­al dozen police offi­cers and mem­bers of oth­er secu­ri­ty bod­ies. What the final, awful tal­ly will be at the end of this war, no one can say.

After the Kad­dish came the eulo­gies. We heard from Major Chapel’s moth­er, his sis­ter, his girl­friend, his com­man­der, and his friends, from the army and from before it. The pic­ture they paint­ed was of a nat­ur­al leader – a won­der­ful com­man­der and a young man full of moti­va­tion and love for his country.

You don’t get to be a major in the Israeli infantry any oth­er way.

A recent­ly dis­charged sol­dier who had served with Major Chapel said he was sor­ry he hadn’t been at his side dur­ing the bat­tle that claimed his life. Survivor’s guilt, I thought. An added pain to that of grief.

At some point, I found myself with tears in my eyes. I don’t remem­ber exact­ly when. I thought of this won­der­ful man who held such promise, who had brought love and joy and light into the life of so many peo­ple, and who had made the ulti­mate sac­ri­fice so that Jews could live freely and secure­ly on their land.

In one of the eulo­gies, some­one said, ​“Roi went to bat­tle and did not return. But because of his actions, many oth­ers did.”

Per­haps that knowl­edge brings some com­fort to his fam­i­ly. I hope that it does.

Rest in peace, Major Chapel, and may your fam­i­ly know no more sorrow.

The views and opin­ions expressed above are those of the author, based on their obser­va­tions and experiences.

Michelle wrote: "Hello Friends,
A friend suggested I post my story about what is like for some of us in Israel right now
https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/you-a...
I hope it is of interest to you.
Thanks for readi..."

Michelle,
I have read your blog. Thank you for sharing with us. Please let us know how we can help and how we can support you and the others. Besides collecting and sending money, I wonder if there is some other way that we can show our support.

In the meantime, you and the other people of Israel are in our hearts, our minds, and our prayers.

Sarah

Michelle wrote: "Hello Friends,
A friend suggested I post my story about what is like for some of us in Israel right now
https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/you-a...
I hope it is of interest to you.
Thanks for readi..."

Michelle,
Written from the heart.
You are a blessing.

Stacey B wrote: "Posted today on the Jewish Book Council Website
Dear Readers,
This week we have been witness to history. At JBC we have been shar­ing the accounts of Israeli authors and authors in Israel. Their tes..."

Very emotional and written with quite a a tenderness.
We hope this will the only funeral Jonathan attends.

I live in a very red state in the Deep South. The Jewish community is small in my town. At synagogue services on Friday night, there were more non-Jews at the service than Jews. Many people had come out to support the Jewish community even though they didn't know us. [yes, we had security at the door, to ensure that no one entering was intent on harming us.] It was comforting to see the outpouring of love.

Almost exactly a year ago, I was in Israel near the Gaza border visiting several artists. I haven't heard their fate.

Hahtoolah wrote: "I live in a very red state in the Deep South. The Jewish community is small in my town. At synagogue services on Friday night, there were more non-Jews at the service than Jews. Many people had com..."

Hahtoolah,
Thank you for commenting. I am so happy to read your comment. It is a feel good knowing you are supported. A grand emotional gesture which says volumes.
In the last three days we have had more antisemitic acts where I live, above the norm.
Most of us are connected to someone who knows somebody in Israel.
I hope to god your friends are ok. I wasn't as lucky.

Hahtoolah wrote: "I live in a very red state in the Deep South. The Jewish community is small in my town. At synagogue services on Friday night, there were more non-Jews at the service than Jews. Many people had com..."

I am comforted to learn how your non-Jewish neighbors came out to support you. Please may they stick by you as the situation in Israel worsens and anti-Israel media increases. I will pray that your artists friends, along with so many others in Israel, are safe. Shalom.

Sarah wrote: "... I am comforted to learn how your non-Jewish neighbors came out to support you. Please may they stick by you as the situation in Israel worsens and anti-Israel media increases. I will pray that your artists friends, along with so many others in Israel, are sa..."

I'm happy they did, too, Hoahtoolah, and especially since that kind of direct support is something that is beyond the previous norm.

I hope and wish it were forthcoming from what I'll call the "blue-state" Christians as well. I mean those who are more likely to be "on the other side."

This article was in TIME magazine.
Danya is the daughter of one of our members/author Lori Kaufmann.

BY DANYA KAUFMANN OCTOBER 16, 2023 12:24 PM EDT
Kaufmann is a writer and lawyer based in Jerusalem, where she currently works at a solar energy company.


We’ve been sleep-training our baby together, but my husband has been on reserve duty since Saturday, October 7, so now I’m doing it alone. The other day, about an hour after I put my son down, Imri woke up crying. I rubbed his stomach – the sleep trainer says we should pick him up only if we really have to, so he learns how to calm himself down. But he kept crying, a high-pitched wail now, with short, sharp breaths, and I worried he wasn’t breathing, so I picked him up and held him close, hugging him and circling my hand around his back, kissing his warm, wet cheeks.

I stayed with him in the dark while he cried, and then I was no longer at my parents’ house, where we came for the holiday and then stayed – but in Gaza, taken hostage, with my baby. I started crying, quietly first and then hysterically, because what if it had been us? What if Imri, my beautiful baby, and I had been taken from our home by Hamas? And he was crying, and I had nothing, nothing to do?
I know the real questions are larger – are they alive? Are they being beaten? Raped? Tortured? I know there are tactical questions, strategic questions, political questions. But the questions running through my head that night with Imri in my arms were – do they have pacifiers? Do they have diapers? Do they have formula? Are there women nursing? Do the babies smile at all, or look at their mothers to make them smile? Do they sleep? Do the mothers get to hold them? And what – oh God, what – do they do when they cry?

And there we were again in the dark, quiet room at my parents’ house in Ra’anana, one of the safest places in the country these days, and yet where I slept with a knife under my bed for almost a week, and I held him for longer, much longer, than our sleep trainer would approve. The two of us sobbing, sobbing.

Once the floodgates open, everything makes me cry. I cry when my husband tells me he isn’t happy with where they’ve stationed him in the army, that he thinks he can be doing more and wants to tell his commander to place him where he’s needed most.


I cry preparing a care package for my brother and his unit, who are stationed up North. After buying socks and a headlamp and packing up the food, I sit down to write him a letter, because he doesn’t have his phone. I want to write something upbeat and fun but I can’t. I tell him I love him and want him to come home.
I cry when my sister shows me a video she’s filmed of volunteers who’ve just cleaned and prepared brand-new apartments for people who’ve fled the horrors. When the evacuees drive up, all the volunteers cheer and clap.

I can’t even get through Joe Biden’s speech, which was supposed to be uplifting. At the words “parents butchered using their bodies to try to protect their children,” I shut my phone.

I see a picture of a baby and my stomach tightens and twists and I put down my phone again. Is he the son of an army acquaintance, the one who was murdered? The 4.5-month-old who was taken into Gaza with his 4-year-old brother and miraculously released, saved by their neighbor? Or was it one of the babies taken hostage, or beheaded?

When I hear that Israel is cutting off Gaza’s water supply, the first thing I think of is the mothers and babies. What will they do? When I hear that Israel has told North Gaza to evacuate, I think of them again, the mothers and babies.

Being a mother has redefined how I experience everything, and how I feel emotions. They’re all close to the surface, strong and visceral and raw.


Everyone is scared, but I think being a mother amplifies it. I take Imri for a walk in the stroller on my parents’ cul-de-sac, walking back and forth so we aren’t far from their bomb shelter. When the siren goes off, I sprint, heart racing, worried only about getting Imri in there quickly, safely, and thinking it’s a game. Another time, he’s with my mother and I call her immediately to make sure they’ve found shelter. Another time, I hear a siren and spin around frantically and see it’s a little boy riding a battery-powered plastic bike.

Being a mother amplifies my anger, too. My rage. At the bloodthirsty murderers who did this, people guided by evil, who forgot what it is to be human. People who burn houses. People who rape women. People who kill babies.

I’m also angry at our current government. Maybe it’s because of the six hours it took from when the massacre started until they held their first meeting. Maybe it’s because of the five days of fine-tuning the politics before they could form a unity government and start working together to stop the carnage. Maybe it’s because they made the Supreme Court and the media out to be enemies of the State, forgetting completely where we live. Maybe it’s because they’re Twitter heroes who’ve been spewing hatred and racism for months, but were silent, nowhere to be found, when a terrified nation needed someone to tell us what the hell was happening. Maybe it’s because they’re the ones who were supposed to protect us.


Maybe it’s because they’re making me question whether Israel is a place to raise a child.

I wasn’t always a mother – I gave birth to Imri less than 10 months ago. I’ve experienced Israel as a soldier, as a civil servant in government, as an advisor to a minister in the previous government. I have opinions and political views, but not now. These past few days, all I have are my tumultuous emotions. These past few days, I’m a mother.

Imri and I are the women and children. Women and children, the ones who must stay out of war and killing, at all costs. The ones who, if left alone, would never have let any of this happen. The ones who’ve been dragged in.

These days, my primary focus is protecting my baby. But really, he’s been protecting me. With his smile, that one tiny little tooth jutting up from the bottom. The way he looks at me with those big eyes, waiting for me to pick him up from his crib, knowing I’ll do anything for him. This morning, I kissed his soft belly as I changed his diaper. He laughed. I did it again, and he laughed harder, lifting his hands up to touch my face, sighing gleefully. I did it again and again, just so I could hear him laugh.

Comment pertaining to the article I posted above...
I have absorbed the shock from two weeks ago though this shock will not abate.
Danya, this is a beautiful and bittersweet article.
More later.

Gal Beckerman writes "The Books Briefing" for Atlantic Magazine. This week his topic is books to read about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

It's an email that goes out weekly, so since I can't post an email, here's its web URL: https://www.theatlantic.com/newslette... Not sure if that can be opened by nonsubscribers, but it's free to sign up I think.

Hmm...let me try this link, if it's different: https://www.theatlantic.com/newslette...

Worth sharing if possible for the reading suggestions!

I am lucky because where I live has a strong Jewish community. Needless to say, we are all devastated. Our family and friends are safe in Israel but we know people who have a teen daughter who was kidnapped by Hamas. Our synagogue has 4 guardsmen with guns now! This is going to take a very long time to resolve and to heal. These are very scary times but keep your head held high.

Terri, my heart goes out to you and certainly hope the teen will survive all of this as well as all hostages.
My head is high when I am out and surrounded by people.
When we are home, I continue to nurse my broken heart.
Its hard to concentrate on books as I find Im reading the same page over again, having no idea what I read. I stopped watching the news although the anger from that interrupts other emotions. My daughter has two friends who haven't been seen since the music festival. One friend who is a General of sorts lost six family members.
I just cant..

Stacey B wrote: "...My head is high when I am out and surrounded by people.
When we are home, I continue to nurse my broken heart.
Its hard to concentrate on books as I find Im reading the same page over again, having no idea what I read. I stopped watching the news although the anger from that interrupts other emotions. My daughter has two friends who haven't been seen since the music festival. One friend who is a General of sorts lost six family members.
I just cant..."

Stacey, so sorry for your pain and loss.
I do hope that those of us who continue to find solace in reading don't need to feel guilty!
♥
Jan

Jan wrote: "Stacey B wrote: "...My head is high when I am out and surrounded by people.
When we are home, I continue to nurse my broken heart.
Its hard to concentrate on books as I find Im reading the same pag..."

Thank you Jan.

I am trying to research an idea I have for a new novel which I started working on, but since that Shabbat, what with the sirens and worry for my boys I can't concentrate on it at all. I can't even read a book - anything longer than a magazine or newspaper article is too much at the moment.

For those who might be too distractible at the moment for a book, here's a new blog from the Shalom Hartman Institute.

From Sunday morning:
"I'm excited to introduce Notes for the Field, the Shalom Hartman Institute’s new blog drawing on collective Jewish wisdom and offering guidance, inspiration, and support for navigating the challenges facing the Jewish people today...."
---From Claire Sufrin, editor, Shalom Hartman Institute
https://www.hartman.org.il/program/no...

Thank you for sharing this, Jan. This new blog is inspirational.

Sarah wrote: "Thank you for sharing this, Jan. This new blog is inspirational."

Sarah, I'm glad I did, then!

Dear World.. I -Dont -Care written by Avi Lewis

https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/dear-...

Stacey B wrote: "Dear World.. I -Dont -Care written by Avi Lewis

https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/dear-..."

Thank you, Stacey.

This "leader" (editorial) in the Economist pretty much sums up why Israeli must continue its campaign, but doesn't shy away from criticizing Israeli leaders or policies. It's definitely worth a read:

https://www.economist.com/leaders/202...

Mel wrote: "This "leader" (editorial) in the Economist pretty much sums up why Israeli must continue its campaign, but doesn't shy away from criticizing Israeli leaders or policies. It's definitely worth a rea..."

Thank you Mel-
Cant open it; I dont subscribe to this one. Will try to find it a different way.

Here's the full article (copied and pasted...if it works):
Why Israel must fight on
Israel’s bombardment of Gaza is taking a terrible toll. But unless Hamas’s power is broken, peace will remain out of reach.
Israeli forces are entering a hellscape of their own making. One in ten buildings in Gaza has been pulverised by Israeli aircraft and artillery. Over 8,000 Palestinians have been killed, many of them children. Shortages of fuel, clean water and food, imposed by an Israeli blockage, pose a growing threat to the lives of many thousands more.
Around the world the cry is going up for a ceasefire or for Israel to abandon its ground invasion. Hearing some Israeli politicians call for vengeance, including the discredited prime minister, Binyamin Netanyahu, many people conclude that Israel’s actions are disproportionate and immoral. Many of those arguing this believe in the need for a Jewish state, but fear for a Jewish state that seems to value Palestinian lives so cheaply. They worry that the slender hopes for peace in this age-old conflict will be buried under Gaza’s rubble.
Those are powerful arguments, but they lead to the wrong conclusion. Israel is inflicting terrible civilian casualties. It must minimise them and be seen to do so. Palestinians are lacking essential humanitarian supplies. Israel must let a lot more aid pass into Gaza. However, even if Israel chooses to honour these responsibilities, the only path to peace lies in dramatically reducing Hamas’s capacity to use Gaza as a source of supplies and a base for its army. Tragically, that requires war.
To grasp why, you have to understand what happened on October 7th. When Israelis talk about Hamas’s attack as an existential threat they mean it literally, not as a figure of speech. Because of pogroms and the Holocaust, Israel has a unique social contract: to create a land where Jews know they will not be killed or persecuted for being Jews. The state has long honoured that promise with a strategic doctrine that calls for deterrence, early warnings of an attack, protection on the home front and decisive Israeli victories.
Over the past two decades Israel lost sight of the fact that Palestinians deserve a state, too. Mr Netanyahu boosted Hamas to sabotage Palestinian moderates—a cynical ploy to help him argue that Israel has no partner for peace. Instead, Palestinian suffering became something to manage, with a mix of financial inducements and deterrence, kept fresh by repeated short wars.
On October 7th Hamas destroyed all this, including Mr Netanyahu’s brittle scheme. The terrorists ripped apart Israel’s social contract by shattering the security doctrine created to defend it. Deterrence proved empty, early warning of an attack was absent, home-front protection failed and Hamas murdered 1,400 people in Israeli communities. Far from enjoying victory, Israel’s soldiers and spies were humiliated.
The collapse of Israel’s security doctrine has unleashed a ferocious bombardment against the people of Gaza. The reason is an attempt to restore that founding principle. Israel wants its 200,000 or so evacuees to be able to return home. It wants to show its many enemies that it can still defend itself. Most of all, it has come to understand that, by choosing to murder Israelis regardless of how many Palestinians will die in Gaza, Hamas has proved that it is undeterrable.
The only way out of the cycle of violence is to destroy Hamas’s rule—which means killing its senior leaders and smashing its military infrastructure. The suggestion that a war which entails the deaths of thousands of innocent people can lead to peace will appal many. In the past one act of violence has led to the next. That is indeed the great risk today.
However, while Hamas runs Gaza, peace is impossible. Israelis will feel unsafe, so their government will strike Gaza pre-emptively every time Hamas threatens. Suffocated by permanently tight Israeli security and killed as Hamas’s human shields in pre-emptive Israeli raids, Palestinians will be radicalised. The only way forward is to weaken its control while building the conditions for something new to emerge.
That starts with new leadership for both sides. In Israel Mr Netanyahu will be forced from office because he was in power on October 7th, and because his reputation for being Israel’s staunchest defender is broken. The sooner he goes the better. His successor will need to win a mandate for a new security doctrine. That should involve a plan for peace and reining in Israeli settlers, who even now are molesting and killing Palestinians on the West Bank.
The Palestinians need moderate leaders with a democratic mandate. At the moment they have none. That is partly because Mr Netanyahu boosted Hamas, but also because Mahmoud Abbas, the president of the Palestinian authority, has sidelined potential rivals. The question is how to stop Hamas or its successor from seizing back control of Gaza before fresh leaders can emerge from fair elections.
Hence, the second condition for peace: a force to provide security in Gaza. Israel cannot supply it as an occupying power. Instead the strip needs an international coalition, possibly containing Arab countries that oppose Hamas and its backer, Iran. As we have argued in previous leaders, creating a coalition that all sides can agree on will take committed leadership from the United States and a leap of faith from the region.
And that leads back to the condition that makes all this possible: a war to degrade Hamas enough to enable something better to take its place. How Israel fights this war matters. It must live up to its pledge to honour international law. Not only is that the right thing to do, but Israel will be able to sustain broad support over the months of fighting and find backing to foster peace when the fighting stops only if it signals that it has changed. Right now, this means letting in a lot more humanitarian aid and creating real safe zones in southern Gaza, Egypt, or—as the best talisman of its sincerity—in the Negev inside Israel.
A ceasefire is the enemy of peace, because it would allow Hamas to continue to rule over Gaza by consent or by force with most of its weapons and fighters intact. The case for humanitarian pauses is stronger, but even they involve a trade-off. Repeated pauses would increase the likelihood that Hamas survives.
Nobody can know whether peace will come to Gaza. But for the sake of Israelis and Palestinians it deserves to have the best possible chance. A ceasefire removes that chance entirely. ■