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YAMIT: REFLECTIONS ON A TRAGEDY part 1 |
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Written by Rabbi Meir Kahane
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(This dispatch was filed by Rabbi Meir Kahane from Yamit, on
Monday, March 8, the Fast of Esther [Adar 13, 5742].)
The countdown is well underway here and the constant thought of all
those gathered in this beautiful town on the shores of the
Mediterranean is: When are they coming? The thought is a grotesque one.
“They” are the ones that the children have come to
fear. “They” are the ones that hundreds of Jews here have come to look
upon as the threat. “They” are the Jewish soldiers of the army of
Israel. It is a Kafkaesque tragedy.
We have finished fortifying the bomb shelter we seized Motzaei Shabbat,
one of several we broke into. I sit in the now-comfortable, powerful
structure and for the hundredth time try to comprehend. For the
hundredth time I shake my head. I cannot. Memories of the past week
keep running through my mind. Reflections. Reflections on the tragedy
of Yamit. No, of the Jewish people.
I think of my arrival last week with a number of Kach members. It is Sunday, February 28. On Friday, just before going to synagogue, twenty minutes before the Sabbath, the radio announced that the Begin-Sharon government had sealed off the Yamit area to all non-residents. The juggernaut had begun its work down the
road of elimination of the Jewish presence in the Sinai and the final retreat. People are shocked. I feel sorry for them, all the deluded (albeit willfully) who kept repeating the litany: Begin will never give up the settlements. He has something up his sleeve . . The Ibn Ezra’s magnificent commentary comes to mind. Pharaoh’s servants come to him and complain, after the seventh plague “Haterem tayda ki avda Mitzrayim?” (Exodus 10:7). The simple translation is “Do you not yet realize that Egypt is lost?” The Ibn Ezra, in a brilliant psychological insight, translates it differently: “Do
you not yet WANT TO UNDERSTAND . . . ?” And, of course, that is the secret of our madness today. No one WANTS to understand. No one WANTS to believe the truth, the bitter truth. Begin, a physically and spiritually sick man, is determined to complete the insanity. In the very week that the Egyptian dictator, Mubarak, slaps Israel’s face by refusing to come to Jerusalem — Begin orders the troops out. To seal the Sinai. To seal it off to Jews . . .
On Sunday, I set off for Yamit with four Kach people. The area is sealed off but one can always get through. A pinch of faith, imagination and ingenuity — that is the time-honored recipe.
We drive through the teritories, past Hebron, into Beersheba. There we rent an Avis car, the better to appear to be tourists. I am armed with a kova temble, the ubiquitous sun cap that covers the upper part of my face; dark sunglasses; an American passport, and a strong American-accented English. For 40 kilometers past Beersheba, the road is clear. We drive swiftly, turning past Netivot, Ofakim, up to the Magen junction where we turn — and there it is. Forty kilometers from Yamit, the first barrier. Tens of soldiers are milling about. I pull up, looking every bit the American tourist. The
soldier asks where I am going. I smile stupidly (hoping to look like a tourist), and say that we are a party of Americans headed for a vacation in the Sinai. He does not understand English. Another soldier is called over. He is an American. He makes it clear that no cars are being allowed through. I smile; implore; threaten; wave the
image of my friendship with the American ambassador — nothing works.
We turn around and pull over. The map shows a road to the left of us, running to Kibbutz Nahal Oz. There, it shows a vague road that clearly warns the traveller of less than first-rate driving. Never mind, we have no choice. We find the road, turn into the
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