Let’s join our Israeli cousins in their mourning

Let’s join our Israeli cousins in their mourning

By Gil Troy
Canadian Jewish News
April 29, 2005

On Tuesday evening, May 10, and all day on Wednesday, May 11, the entire Jewish world should come to a standstill. In honour of Yom Hazikaron, Israel’s Memorial Day, every Jew should light memorial candles at home and contemplate the many lives extinguished by decades of Arab assaults against Israel. Jews throughout the world should mob our often under-attended memorial services. This year – and in all subsequent years – Jewish community calendars should frame those 24 hours in black, marking this as a time when no galas are held, no fundraising takes place, no Jewish sports teams play and theatres go dark. It’s the least we can do to honour the many Israeli sacrifices for the Jewish people.

This year, Yom Hazikaron is particularly important, because, while it is not politic to shout it out loud, Israel won this ugly war. The Palestinians miscalculated. Israelis rallied when attacked, demonstrating unexpected unity, discipline and grit.

While Israel must win every war, any war imposes unfathomable losses. North Americans cannot appreciate the ubiquity of the pain, especially when we taste the vitality and joy of Israeli society. But anyone watching closely senses the omnipresent anguish, even when the mourning immediately dissolves into Israel’s Independence Day celebrations.

To those saying, “I have no one to mourn, I don’t know any Israelis who suffered,” we should say, “Shame on you! How could you have lived through these last four years and not opened your heart, your soul, and yes, your pocketbook, to our suffering brothers and sisters? What stopped you from reaching out to those thirsting for solace?” But simultaneously, we must also say, “It’s not too late. There remain many bereft families, maimed children, crushed individuals. Now is the time to start not just mourning, but healing.”

So this Yom Hazikaron, let us mourn by numbers: more than 21,000 killed defending Israel since 1948; and more than 1,000 Israelis murdered since September 2000, with 10,000 injured.

Let us also mourn the heroes one by one. Let us mourn Benny Avraham, an Israeli soldier murdered by Hezbollah terrorists who tied to kidnap him, then covered up his death to extract political concessions, further scarring Benny’s family. Let us mourn Benny’s uncle, also named Benny Avraham, who was killed in the Yom Kippur War and is now buried just metres from his nephew. Let us remember Eli Cohen, Israel’s man in Damascus, whose information helped Israel win the 1967 War – and whose body the Syrians continue to hold. Let us embrace the families of 1948’s Palmach warriors, young men and women frozen in time as their comrades – and the state they founded – grew. Let us make sure that someone says Kaddish for the final generation of the Weiss family, childless Holocaust survivors killed during the 2002 Netanya seder massacre.

Let us envelop all the grieving families with love and even a timely donation. Money is our feeble, yet frequently useful, way of telegraphing our support. But this Yom Hazikaron – and subsequently – we should also join in the mourning rituals that Israelis have developed – the moment of silence, the public meeting, the mass Kaddish, the evening of quiet singing, the personal visit to those whose grief and memories never end.

Heroism is an odd thing – most true heroes are reluctant ones. John F. Kennedy, when asked how he became a war hero, said: “It was involuntary. They sank my boat.” Israelis share this matter-of-fact ambivalence. For a small country forced to keep an active army ever vigilant, Israelis have miraculously resisted an addiction to militarism. The hopes of Shir LaShalom, the song of peace – not vengeance – will resonate through the streets of Jerusalem on Yom Hazikaron. We should echo them here, too.

Israelis say “Anachnu mishtatfim betzareichem,” we participate in your sorrow. Traditional Judaism has taught the world how to ritualize memory, from profound mourning rituals, to smashing the glass at weddings, to reliving the Exodus each year on Pesach. This Yom Hazikaron – and in future – let us mourn those who have suffered and hope for peace.

Anyone who has ever endured a shiva knows the power of being comforted by a community. After everything our brothers and sisters have endured, how dare we fail them, individually or communally.

Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University and the author of Why I Am A Zionist: Israel, Jewish Identity and the Challenges of Today. His latest book is Morning in America: How Ronald Reagan Invented the 1980s.

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